Around the same time we went to Wildwood, our church youth group went on a backpacking trip. We went up to the little lake near our camp and were served a challenge: jump off a 35- to 40-foot ledge into the waters below.

I was the first to take the plunge–only because I wanted the bragging rights. We were instructed to keep a pencil-like posture until we were underwater. But my body was impatient. I can just remember my mind being impatient and telling my body that it already hit the water. In actuality, I was about 10 feet away. So I bent my legs and hit the water square with my behind. Let’s just say when I climbed back up, the brusies had already formed. And just when I finished thinking “I’m glad I’ll never have to do that again,” my brother informed me that he didn’t get the picture and I had to do it again. So I present to you, my second attempt at pretending to be brave and having fun:

Before temperatures started hitting record lows, I could see across the beautiful bay.

Bay Area born ‘n raised, holla!

A whole new meaning to riding in the short bus. Add the ghost rider who ran himself over to that bus route.

Much of the Bay Area’s November and December are filled with sun and slightly cool breezes. Have I mentioned that I love California?

I used to run here almost every day. For the last two years of my running career, this was home free.

It was quite a change to enjoy the lake from the water’s perspective. Thanks, Robot, for the boat!

I felt right at home with the Chardonnay, Fiscalini Purple Moon cheese, and homemade soup, courtesy Wood Family Vineyards.

I’d take sun over the frosty Firestone any day. I’m a California girl.