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For 2021, I set a goal of taking 52 different hikes with my family. You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here. 

That brings us to March! The most exciting thing about this month was that we ventured out of the area for a quick road trip. More on that below.

Here are the 7 hikes we did this month.

Keep in mind: 
• I say these hikes are “family-friendly,” meaning they were good for my family. They are not necessarily stroller accessible or toddler-friendly. 
• I’m strategic about when I go. Some popular trails get heavy traffic throughout the day, and I don’t like being on trails with a lot of people.
• Don’t take my distance as gospel. Hiking with a 6-year-old child involves a fair amount of wandering, so your mileage might vary. 
• Do check a website like AllTrails for current trail conditions. I always look the map to get an idea of the terrain, and I read the most recent comments for any relevant info. 
• I always bring a mask along and put it on when I encounter others on the trail.

Indio Badlands, Indio • 5.5 miles

This hike made me thankful for the 52 Hikes challenge, because I never would have done this trail otherwise — and I would have missed out on one of the most stunning areas in the Coachella Valley.

Don’t let the first boring mile fool you. After a bit of mediocre trail, the scenery becomes incredibly dramatic with interesting geological features and some sweeping views of mountains and agricultural areas.

Big Morongo Preserve (combo of four trails), Morongo Valley • 2.5 miles

I’ve been having issues with my lower back, and on this particular day it was acting up. I still wanted to get outside, though, so we patched together portions of four trails that didn’t have a huge elevation gain.

No matter which trail you take here, they’re all winners. Plus the preserve has been recognized as an “important bird area” by many organizations, and I often see deer. Somehow I always *just* miss seeing the bobcats, but someday …

South Lykken (trailhead at Oswit Canyon), Palm Springs • 2.3 miles

The steep climb pays off with great views of Palm Springs and a lot of little hilltops to explore. (We only went as far as the picnic tables at the summit, but the trail links up to other parts of Lykken, so this hike can be much, much longer.)

Also we saw bighorn sheep near the trailhead, which is the first time I’ve ever seen them in the low part of the canyon.

Museum Trail, Palm Springs • 2.1 miles

Challenging and beautiful, but crowded. It had been a long time since I’ve done this one, though, and I was delighted to find a pull-up bar near the picnic tables.

To be clear, I can’t really do a pull-up. I just like surprises.

Bike Trails (East), Cathedral City • 2.1 miles

Not very picturesque or fun. On the plus side, we didn’t encounter any other hikers, so it was nice to be in a quiet, still space.

Fiscalini Ranch Preserve, Cambria • 4.2 miles

Spring break! We took a quick road trip to Cambria and stayed at a motel across the street from Moonstone Beach, where we spent every evening picking up cool rocks and watching the sunset. It was glorious.

One of the best days I’ve had in recent memory was spent at Fiscalini Ranch Preserve. The trail we did had a little bit of everything, from evergreen forest to coastal bluffs, back to evergreens again. Highly recommend.

Boucher Trail, San Simeon • 3.75 miles

If you’re driving the Pacific Coast Highway, carve time out of your schedule for this easy but stunning hike.

It begins at an elephant seal overlook and winds through wetlands, grassland, and fields of wildflowers to the Piedras Blancas lighthouse. All the while, you have the most jaw-dropping views of the Pacific.

The best part is that it offers seal viewing areas that are far from the crowds. So if peering down at fat, funny seals is your thing (it’s definitely my thing), this is the trail for you.

Here’s what I’m NOT doing this year on Election Day: Buying a bottle of champagne for a party. Watching the results. Feeling hopeful.

I did all of those things in 2016, and now they are cursed. Yes, even hope.

This time around, I can’t do it again. I just can’t.

According to my research (that is, tweets from my friends), a lot of us are in this emotional place. Right about now we’re looking for healthy distractions and self-care strategies to cope with Election Day 2020.

Here are some ideas to keep from doomscrolling all Tuesday long:

Meditate. Maybe you’re wondering, “Why in the world would I want to sit with my own thoughts right now?”

Because it’s like the past several months have been the anxiety playoffs, and now it’s The Big Game. This is go time. Your stress just beer-bonged a Gatorade and is in top form.

Meditation helps counteract the stress response in the body, instantly decreasing the heart rate, dropping blood pressure, and quieting the mind. Headspace has a great explanation of this here.

If you’re new to meditation, Dan Harris has an election-themed starter pack here. I’m also a fan of the free app Insight Timer, which has a huge library of guided meditations, as well as a no-frills meditation timer. It’s also great for sleep, which brings me to …

Nap. I’m an emotional sleeper. Maybe you are too.

Sometimes when I feel myself shutting down from the world, the best thing to do is shut everything off and get some rest. Even a quick coffee nap can help. (What? You’ve never heard of coffee naps? Here, allow me to change your life.)

Get physical. Channel all that energy into something that will only makes you stronger. I’ve bookmarked some 90-minute Peloton classes. My friend Kristi is running her own half-marathon. Maybe there’s a mountain you can climb or a new trail to explore.

Snacks. Self-explanatory and entirely your choice. But I’m from the Midwest, so I lean toward anything that involves a potato.

Remind your friends and family to vote. Yeah, a lot of us have already voted, but give a nudge to your pals who haven’t.

Dive into a good book. I’m a fan of transportive nonfiction, so I recommend Catfish and Mandala, Spirit Run, and Welcome to the Goddamn Ice Cube. Also here’s a shameless plug for my own book.

If fiction is more your thing, I was blown away recently by Interior Chinatown and The Vanishing Half.

Vote. I mean, you’ve voted, right?

Scream. Did you know there’s a website where you can record yourself screaming and then someone will release your scream into the vast wilderness in Iceland?

It is precisely what I needed to tide me over until my Anger Barn (um … a barn where I can smash dishes) becomes a reality. Thank you, Internet.

Bathe. This is the day bath bombs were created for. Let those suckers fizz.

Get inspired. Read this letter from Heather Cox Richardson. It did give me a little bit of that h-word that rhymes with “nope.”

Do something. It’s not a total distraction from Election Day, but you can still help get out the vote in key states. Being part of the process is empowering.

Be patient. Remember that we probably won’t have results on Election Night. Don’t contribute to the noise, don’t spread of rumors and unverified news, and don’t panic. Axios has some good tips for navigating this time.

Please for the love of pete, go vote.

Since it’s Halloween, let me tell you the story of the haunted house that wasn’t. 

Two years ago, Everest was 4, and somehow he determined that he desperately wanted to go to a haunted house.

However, this is a child who gets spooked easily — he squeezes his eyes shut and covers his ears during parts of “Moana.” So I knew better than to take him to the Bloody Frightmare Serial Killer Corn Maze or some such thing that would traumatize him for life. 

Then I saw an ad from a restaurant here called Dringk or Drangk, (I can never remember which one), promoting their kid-friendly activities, including a haunted house. 

The ad specifically said, “Come and enjoy our haunted house.” 

I told Everest about it, and he was stoked. For a couple weeks, he talked about the haunted house nonstop and bragged that he was going to be so brave. I smiled and agreed, even though I knew this was a rather vanilla place in a pedestrian mall we were talking about here. I figured this would be a spooky corner with construction paper spiders. Maybe a witch would pop out from behind a screen. BOOM. Haunted house, done.

On Halloween night, we got dressed up and headed out early to beat the crowds. Everest chattered about the haunted house the whole way there. 

We were the first people to arrive at Dringk/Drangk, so I asked the hostess if we could do the haunted house before sitting down to dinner. 

“We don’t have a haunted house,” she said. 

I pulled out the ad. 

“This says you do.” 

“No,” the hostess laughed. “I think they meant, like, enjoy the essence of a haunted house. Like, for a night we have the vibe of a haunted house.”

My son didn’t want a vibe. He wanted an actual haunted house.

I hissed and said something to that effect. And then I think I begged. I didn’t even need a good haunted house. Just something haunted-adjacent. A creepy warehouse. A cobwebby garage. Anything to prevent me from becoming the broken husk of a mom who just ruined Halloween.

“There’s a haunted house around the corner,” the hostess said. 

That’s all I needed to hear. I grabbed Everest’s hand and flew around the corner to another storefront marked with a simple haunted house sign. There was no line, which seemed unusual on Halloween. There was also no obvious sign about ticket prices, so I assumed it would be pricey. If I have to ask, it’s almost always too expensive. 

I pulled out my phone, logged on the wifi of a nearby BBQ place, and started searching for a Groupon. I was still scrolling through the phone when I flung open the door. 

Everest and I stepped inside. 

I thought there’d be a desk or a counter. At the very least, someone taking money. But there wasn’t. 

It was empty. 

The walls were draped with sheets and there were blood splatters everywhere. We saw a few hospital bed-looking things, but nobody was in them. 

“Hello?” I called out.

Nobody answered.

We walked further into the building. 

Silence.

I thought maybe this was part of the thing, so I braced myself for the maniacal, chainsaw-wielding surgeon to come raring out of the shadows. 

Nothing. 

I approached another set of drapes, and my muscles stiffened as I imagined every monster that might leap at us, every gory, unholy thing that I might find. I tugged a sheet back.

Again, nothing. Imagine being on a roller coaster and the drop never comes. 

“Mommy, this is weird.”

I exhaled. He was right. An abandoned fake haunted house in an outdoor mall was very weird. 

“Let’s go, baby.” I tugged on E’s hand and led him out of the building. 

It was genuinely the scariest haunted house I’ve ever been to, because anticipating the worst turned out to be worse than any masked man or howling ghoul. That’s where real terror exists —in everything I conjured and how I held that dread in my body. Not what happened.

As for Everest, he still believes himself to be very brave. But now he also thinks haunted houses are boring.