Ideal Bite

I grew up in the middle of the Rockies, but I honestly never went hiking until I was about 10 or so. My best friend's dad took us on a hike, and I remember - at first - thinking that it seemed stupid to walk at a slow pace through the woods, no real destination in sight.

But somewhere on that aimless walk, I understood that call to the woods. It made some sort of inexplicable sense to me.

Years later, sweaty Brooklyn summer, I received a heart-wrenching call. My best friend's dad - a dad of sorts to me - had died unexpectedly. My heart broke mainly for my friend. But a little piece of it mourned for me - for that loss of the first person who really showed me the woods.

That first lost Father's Day, I bought a plot of trees from the American Forests in memoriam. To this day, it might be the best money I ever think I spent.

This fall, I'm heading to that best friend's wedding in Italy. And we are doing a hike in honor of her dad.

A little Montana Rockies blending into the Italian peaks, and again, I think it's fitting.

-Heather... off to look at old photo albums...

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