Since I try to keep these posts to a readable length, I will not attempt to extoll the assorted virtues of riding your bike to work. Of the money you’ll save on gas, of how a bike and its rider emit far fewer pollutants into the atmosphere than a car, of a wake-up call (the ride in) that’s even more effective than a triple Americano at jump-starting your day, of a great way to shake the “I-can’t-believe-I-work-for-the-guy-Dilbert-is-modeled-after” end-of-day blues, of getting a good workout with great health benefits to boot.

Instead, here’s a quick rundown of Bike to Work events going on statewide this week. If you know of more, let us know. Especially in Charlotte, where we couldn’t find one event.

Triangle

Carrboro & Chapel Hill

Tuesday, 7-10 a.m. – Go Chapel Hill-Carrboro Bike Workshop, municipal parking lot on Roberson Street and S. Greensboro (south of Open Eye Café). Food, giveaways, raffles, bike inspections, tune-ups.

Friday, early evening – Chapel Hill-Carrboro Bicycle Tour & Ride with Elected Officials. Meet at Wallace Parking Deck on Rosemary Street in Chapel Hill for an early evening ride through Chapel Hill and Carrboro, followed by food, beverages and music on the Deck.

In addition …
 bike shops in Chapel Hill and Carrboro are offering certain discounts during Bike to Work Week.

Durham

Wednesday, 5-7 p.m. Cyclists’ Social at Alivia’s Durham Bistro, 900 E. Main St. (corner of Main and Gregson streets). Free food, giveaways.

Thursday, 7-9 a.m. Bike-to-Work Breakfast at Five Points Plaza (corner of Main and Chapel Hill streets in downtown). Free food, coffee, prizes.

Thursday (and every third Thursday of the month though August), 5 p.m., 5 o’clock @ the Nott, parking lot of the Nottingham Building (4505 Emperor Blvd. near RTP, and the intersection of I-40 & 540). Beverages, live music, discussions re:Triangle Commuter Bike Path Initiative.

Sunday, 2-6 p.m., Bull City Summer Streets around Durham Central Park.
One mile of city streets near downtown will be opened to biking, walking and playing.

Raleigh

Tuesday, 6:30 a.m., North Hills. Park ‘n’ Pedal. Meet at North Hills REI to ride to work downtown. Return trip: 5:30 p.m.

Friday, 5:30-7 p.m. Cyclist Social at Porter’s Tavern, 2412 Hillsborough St.

Friday, 7 p.m. “Triplets of Belleville” screening, free. Witherspoon Hall, N.C. State Campus.

RTP

Tuesday, 5-7 p.m.  Bike to Work Week After Hours Get-Together at Serena.

Friday, 7-9 a.m., Bike to Work Week Breakfast at RTP Headquarters.

For more info on Triangle area events, visit GoTriangle.

Triad

Greensboro

Bike Refueling Stations: Greensboro DOT sponsors daily “refueling stations,” at different locations around town. Free coffee, food, other stuff (depending upon location). Dates and locations:

• Tuesday, 7-9 a.m., Total Wine on Battleground Boulevard.
• Wednesday, 7-9 a.m., Bike Refueling Station at MLK & Florida streets.
• Thursday, 7-9 a.m., VF (Wrangler) on Elm St.
Thursday, 7-9 a.m., REI.
Friday, 7-9 a.m., Governmental Plaza.
• Friday, 7-9 a.m., Spring Garden Bakery.

Also:

Thursday, 7-9 p.m., Bicycle Movie Night, Cycles de Oro.
Friday, 4:30 p.m, Bike FROM Work Celebration, Old Town Draught House, 1205 Spring Garden St.

Gibsonville

Saturday, 7 am, Gears and Cheers.

Me? I dove into 15,000 gallons of ice water.

Technically, “ice water” may be pushing it. According to the duck, it was 65 degrees. To put that number in perspective, jump into the ocean during your summer beach vacation, then subtract 20 degrees. It’s a big difference, trust me.

Today was opening day for our backyard pool. As long as I can remember, I have dreamed of having a backyard pool. When we went house hunting a couple years back and found this place in Historic (mid-1970s) Cary with a backyard pool, it was a done deal. At age 51, I decided I was worthy of this perceived extravagance. My wife felt the same: “Give them whatever they want,” she told our Realtor when negotiations reached an impasse.

My reason for wanting a pool hasn’t changed over the years: Water offers the ultimate escape. As a chubby kid, I felt weightless in the pool. As an adult who expects a lot from his body, the pool provides welcome relief for my aging joints. As a kid in an occasionally chaotic household, I savored escaping under water at the neighborhood pool into a world of muffled quiet. As an adult, that same muffled world shields me from the incessant call of the cell phone, the chirping and beeping of email and text messages. As a kid, the water was my chance to escape and regroup. It’s even more so today.

The duck is smiling because it's out of the water.

The pool is the one place where I can make time stop. Or very nearly. From now through late-September, I will make a daily habit of going into the deep (8 feet) end and treading water for 20 minutes. I’m not a natural in the water; staying afloat takes some effort, an awkward collaboration between continuously kicking legs and figure-8ing arms to keep my head above water. Once I slip into that unconscious rhythm, I slip into a meditative reverie. It’s the one time I am assured of giving my brain time to do what it rarely gets to do: think. Really think — about whatever manages to bubble to the surface through the usual muck of day-to-day concerns: work, survival, oil spills. Sometimes my brain can get here on the bike, sometimes during a run. But it always happens during my 20 minutes in the deep end. Twenty minutes to think, 20 minutes of physical rehab: You can’t put a price on that.

Which I think about every time I pay the mortgage.

Earlier on the ride, Alan and I were heading east on Arthur Minnis Road, about to turn left onto Borland Road. We were riding single file, me in front, Alan on my wheel. As the turn approached, Alan looked back, saw a car approaching in the distance, announced there was a car but that we had time to turn. I signaled a left turn, heard a car accelerating, then the horn. Just as quickly as she had sped up to pass us she hit the brakes, rolled down her window and started chewing us out.

“You bikes are always clogging these roads!” she yelled.

“I signaled and I had the right-of-way,” I yelled back. I’m not big on confrontation, but I also don’t like being yelled at for no reason. Or especially for a bad reason.

She yelled about bikes being nuisances, I yelled about cars that don’t pay attention on the road. She called us a name that seemed gender-inappropriate to me but worked for her. I refrained from suggesting she was mad because we were keeping her from responding to the “Hot! Now!” sign flashing in town. We agreed to disagree (in a way) and went our separate ways.

Alan kept quiet during the exchange, realizing that once the yelling started any hope for a meaningful exchange had vanished. When we continued on, Alan, who rides this road much more than I do, pointed out that this woman probably lives in the area and likely has to deal with arrogant bikers on a regular basis. Not that we’re arrogant, he was quick to add, but he sees plenty in the area who are. Cyclists who run stop signs, who pass each other by crossing the double yellow line, who ride three and four abreast, oblivious or worse, indignant, to car traffic. Guilt by association, he suggested.

Now, I’m not a fan of yelling. In fact, I rarely raise my voice, and when I do it’s usually a red flag that I’m overreacting. I didn’t feel like that this time, though. I kept my yelling reasoned, didn’t throw my bike at the car, didn’t challenge the woman to a rumble, didn’t play the Krispy Kreme card. And yet … .

As we rode on I had this vague nagging feeling that I could have handled the situation more … constructively. I felt I’d missed an opportunity.

That’s when the Hare Krishnas came to mind.

Back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, the Krishnas were the picture of evangelical determination. Before they were banned, they were known for their dogged pursuit of travelers in the nation’s airports. At the time, Hertz ran a series of commercials featuring O.J. Simpson running through airports, hurdling chairs and small children. The conceit was that he was late for a plane; I always figured there was a Hare Krishna hot on his heels. Despite their determination, I never saw a person they approached accept their literature, let alone shed their civvies, don an orange robe and shave their hair on the spot.

What keeps them going? I wondered. On Dairyland Road, it dawned on me: A deep, unshakable belief in the Krishna way. They believed, they made their case. If the proselytizee didn’t bite, the Krishnas simply moved on. That was my missed opportunity. This driver’s reaction was less about bikes, more about something out-of-whack in her life. She was stressed and unhappy long before she came upon us. Instead of yelling at her, I should have given her my card and suggested she call and talk about relieving that stress and unhappiness in the best way I know possible: By riding a bike.

And if she called me that genderbending bad name again and suggested where I could ride my bike, so be it. At least I tried.

Just like those Hare Krishna’s hot on O.J.’s heels.

However, as it is wont to do, the forecast that midweek called for rain and cold throughout the weekend has changed. Today is now supposed to be sunny and seasonal. Based on the tinge of early morning sunlight I see over the treetops, it appears to be illuminating a near-cloudless sky: Bravo to the new forecast. And since the forecast still calls for rain tomorrow, it’s imperative that we make the most of today and get out and move. A suggestion or five:

1. Hit the beach. It’s supposed to hit 56 today in Wilmington, not exactly sunning weather, granted, and at 49 degrees at Wrightsville Beach, the water’s a tad cool for a dip. But it’s a perfect day for walking the winter beach, a beach with just a smattering of people, your choice of shells, and crisp, blue skies.
2. Hit the trail. But I live closer to the mountains, you protest? Then take advantage of North Carolina’s abundance of mountain hiking and take a hike. The mountain forecast, according to Ray’s Weather, is a bit less optimistic, calling for clouds and some drizzle (and possible icing at higher elevations). Ideal conditions for hiking. Seems like the lower elevations at South Mountains State Park south of Morganton and the northern portion of the Blue Ridge Parkway are especially good venues for today. (Note that the parkway is closed north of Asheville between mileposts 393.6 and 405.5 conditions due to mudslide concerns. Call 828.298.0398 for the most recent info on parkway closures.)
   

   South Mountains State Park offers some good winter views from on high.

3. Hit the trail, II. You don’t have to go to the mountains to take a hike on a day like this; We’ve got plenty of good state park hiking across the state. Hike the Pinnacle Trail at Crowders Mountain, hike out to Moore’s Knob at Hanging Rock, do the Buckquarter Creek/Holdens Mill figure eight at Eno River, walk through the swamps at Goose Creek. Explore other options here.
4. Hit the park. Why waste time driving when you can simply hit your neighborhood park? Take a soccer ball to kick around, a Frisbee to toss around, a Whiffle ball to smack around or hit the playground’s monkey bars and just hang around. Nothing like a park and playground to make you feel like a kid again.
   

   With helpful directional arrows, it's hard to get lost in a state park.

5. Explore your neighborhood. We tell the kids to pick the wheeled contrivance of their choosing (in our arsenal we have bikes, rollerblades, skateboard, longboard, RipStickTrikke ) and a helmet for a trip through the not-so-mean streets of our suburban neighborhood. There’s usually lots of trading off, usually a scrape or two, always a good story to emerge for years down the line.

Time’s a waistin’, people, the sun is officially up.

Go! Git!

The noise had come from somewhere not at all far behind us. It emanated from a living creature, that much I could tell. And it was by far the loudest, most attention-getting noise I had ever heard emanated by a living creature. The ground shook, it was so loud.

Er, what's the gauge of that fence wire?

“Those,” said Kim Barker, our tour guide, “were the lions.” There was a stunning matter-of-factness in her tone, which continued as she added, “They are still very much in possession of all their wild instincts.” The nine of us on the tour, already sticking close thanks to the sub-freezing weather, huddled closer still.

The Conservator’s Center is about the last thing you’d expect to find in rural Caswell County. NC 119 north from Mebane rides the crest of the Piedmont Plateau, open meadows interspersed with stands of the region’s trademark oak/hickory forests. There’s a slight savanna feel, though nothing to suggest the 20 or so lions, 9 tigers and other assorted critters, mostly cats, who hail mostly from Africa. Nothing to tip you off when you head west down Huffines Road, nothing when you veer down the gravel drive where Huffines Ts into Hughes Mill Road. The handful of old farm buildings suggests an old farm. It’s only when the lions roar, which sometimes sets off the New Guinea Singing Dogs, that you sense that you aren’t in Andy’s North Carolina anymore.

The Conservators’ Center was started in 1999 by Doug Evans and Mindy Stinner as a refuge for wild (mostly) critters that were in bad situations. Many were wild animals that people bought as kittens, pups or cubs under the assumption their wild tendancies would vanish and they’d remain cute and cuddly forever— then they start looking at the children a little too longingly. Others came from legitimate zoos that closed. Roy , for instance, a native eastern bobcat,  came to the center  when a zoo in Maggie Valley closed. Three of the lion prides (11 lions in all) were rescued from a breeding facility in Ohio shuttered by the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

The facility’s emphasis is on giving these displaced animals a home. The notion of opening the facility to the public didn’t occur until 2007, and even then it’s not a prime emphasis. Visits must be arranged in advance and they’re largely restricted to weekends. Perhaps the main sign that the facility isn’t about tourism? The “gift shop” is in a 12-foot-by-15-foot plywood shed.

Before we head into the compound, Kim goes over the rules. Don’t yell or make loud noises; it upsets the animals. Try not to make sudden moves; that doesn’t go over well, either. Don’t run (prey runs) and if a critter appears to be stalking you, don’t playfully stalk back. Stay behind the barrier ropes. (This causes more than one look of concern: “Barrier ropes”? These critters are in cages of some sort, aren’t they?) And perhaps the biggie: If an animal comes to the fence and turns around, move to one side or the other as quickly as possible — you’re about to be sprayed. Properly alert, we enter the compound to face —

Well, aren’t you a sweet kitty! “Taz,” Kim tells us, is a caracal, a cat that can jump six feet in the air, all the better for catching tasty birds. He’s most notable for his long, pointy ears that end in hairy antennas. Caracals, which range from 30 to 50 pounds, have a wide range of tastes, from birds to lizards to goats and sheep. Cute and very carnivorous.

Ditto the servals, of which the Center has 11, the lynx , even the shy Geoffroy’s cats, which may remain kitten size, around 10 pounds, “but don’t let the cute face fool you,” Kim tells us. “She can be pretty intimidating.”

The first half of the tour focuses on small critters, the aforementioned cats, binturongs, kinkajous, and lemurs. Then it’s time to visit where the ground rules really apply.

Up to this point it hasn’t been much of a concern that the only thing separating us from the residents is a chain-link fence that appears to much like the one separating your backyard from the Wilson’s next door. A little higher, with a cover over top. But standard chain link none-the-less. The chain link becomes more noticeable when we pass by the wolves (of whom, Kim tells us, the males are OK with the female visitors on the tour, not so much the males), the New Guinea Singing Dogs, the tigers and, especially, the lions, who had unleased such unearthly loud roars upon our arrival.

(In fact, I’m told by Julia Matson, the center’s director of Fundraising and Outreach, the fencing is 9 gauge steel, “much stronger than typical chain link and material recommended by the USDA for housing these species.” According to fence meister Master Halco, 9 gauge is the second stoutest gauge of the six standard chain link fence gauges.)

The lions are kept in three pens, divided by prides Kim tells us, at the far end of the compound. We walk a dirt path alongside Sam & Company’s pen, stop short of the pen with Mufasa and his pride. Again, a chainlink fence the only thing separating us from perhaps the most feared predator to man. Mufasa’s pride is at ease, lounging about, absorbing the patches of sunlight that take the chill off the 30something temperature. Sam’s group, though, is moving about. Sam lazily walks toward us, turns. Our penchant for listening to directions about how to act around lions causes us to obediently — and very quickly — part like the Red Sea.

As Sam begins to return to his pride, Micah assumes a pounce position and lets out a roar that’s twice as attention-getting when you’re just 10 feet away. We freeze, Kim pauses her narration. One of the other females seems intent on unearthing Micah from her throne, a wooden platform three feet off the ground. More roaring, more pacing, more posturing. A short chase ensues. Sam roars. There’s a tension you don’t have to be part of the predatory animal kingdom to appreciate.

“Should we call someone?” Kim asks fellow guide Mandy Matson. They aren’t sure what’s going on.

More short chases, more posturing, more warning roars. Now Spike’s pride is getting agitated. Mufasa, apparently, is agitated, too. He lets out a series of bellows from his adjoining cage. His intervention appears to dissipate, if not resolve, whatever was going on in Sam’s pen. Slowly, the alert level lessens from red to orange to yellow.

The animals paid us no heed during their spat, but being just feet away from them we were very much a part of whatever was going on. It was visceral, striking a chord that makes you appreciate the essence of being an animal. About the importance of staying on top, of staying sharp, about surviving. Mufasa’s intervention was a show of power, of the true value of strength. Not about one’s ability to start a fight. Rather, to keep one from happening. It doesn’t matter where you are in the animal kingdom, strength, as we’d just been shown by the critters at the top of the food chain, breeds a degree of respect.

Even if you’re a cage away.

Interested in learning more?

To learn more about The Conservators’ Center, go here. To arrange a visit, go here.

The situation felt vaguely familiar: Crushing deadlines keeping me from getting out. Then it hit, the reason it felt familiar. I sped home (not to be confused with “speeding” home), changed into my running gear, set my watch for 30 minutes and ran until the alarm rang. The following two hours behind the keyboard were two of the most productive I’d had in a while.

Years ago, in college, I’d been in a similar situation. It was spring semester of my senior year. I was trying to graduate. I was trying to find a job. I was running the daily student newspaper. And I was getting married a week after graduation.  My running suffered because I didn’t see any way I could break away for an hour and a half and run eight miles. For some reason, though, breaking away for three half-hour runs didn’t seem nearly as indulgent. So every morning for several weeks I’d get up at 6 and run three miles. I’d take a break around 1 in the afternoon, run three more miles. Then, in the early evening, I’d run another three. The thrice-daily runs not only gave me much-needed energy boosts throughout the day, they broke up the monotony of work and studying, they relieved the anxiety of looking for a job, and they mitigated the insanity of getting married. It was my salvation. And I realized it could be again.

At the time, I elected to do three-mile runs because that’s about how far I could run in 30 minutes, including stretching and warmdown. At the time, conventional wisdom held that you needed to do a minimum of 30 minutes of continuous exercise to see any benefit. That thinking has since … evolved. Some say you need 30 minutes, but can do it in three 10-minute increments. The Federal government says you need 60 minutes a day, minimum. And there’s a whole movement now that says 4 minutes a day is plenty. Call me stuck in the past, but I still believe you need 30 minutes of continuous exercise, but that you should get a minimum of 60 minutes a day. Which would mean that I need to fit in two 30-minute workouts a day, regardless of my schedule.

So far, I’m on target. I followed up Thursday’s 30-minute run with 30 minutes of strength training later in the day. Friday, I did 30 minutes of strength training in the morning, in the afternoon Marcy and I took a 30-minute walk. Today, I plan to go all out and do all 60 minutes at once, on a ride on the singlespeed. Best of all? I think I’m going to make my deadline.

And because I believe in coming completely clean on these matters, I should add that while I hope I reap the same short-term rewards that I did 31 years ago — a boost in energy, a rejuvenated focus, the ability to sit still for another 3-hour stint and work — I’m hoping to avoid the long-term effect of that driving pace.

After five weeks, I got mono.

Sure, some fall into the intense category. The Triangle Scuba Group plans to dive the frigid waters at Fantasy Lake at 10 a.m. The North Carolina Bicycle Club plans to get together for a little ride — of 62 miles at an average pace of 19 to 20 miles per hour. And no doubt someone has plans to lead a winter assault on Mt. Mitchell or Clingman’s Dome.

But there are plenty of events aimed at mortals. Here’s a sampling of some I’ve found throughout the state. (If you know of one you don’t see here, fill me in.)

Triangle

Hikes

Eno River New Year’s Day Hike
What: Guided hikes of 2 and 4-5 miles.
When: 2 p.m.
Where: Eno River State Park, Durham. For directions, go here.
The scoop: A Triangle tradition, this Eno River Association-sponsored hike attracts upwards of 500 hikers when the weather’s good, so be sure to arrive early. “Hot chocolate, marshmallows, popcorn and s’mores will be served around the fire at the end of the hike.”
More info: 919.620.9099, association@enoriver.org

Ron Drago’s Annual New Years Day Hike Out at Umstead
What: Three loop hikes totaling 5 miles (the shortest option is 2.8 miles).
When: 1:30 p.m.
Where: Umstead State Park, U.S. 70/Glenwood Avenue entrance, Raleigh. For directions, go here.
The Scoop: Three loop option lets you determine how far you’re up for.
More info: rd4ah@earthlink.net.

Sierra Club Hike at Falls Lake
What: 4.5-mile out-and-back hike on Mountains-to-Sea Trail.
When: 1 p.m.
Where: Shinleaf Recreation of Falls Lake State Recreation Area. To get there: Take New Light Road north from NC 98 north of Raleigh; entrance is on the right.
The Scoop: Hike is from the Shinleaf Recreation Area and group size is limited to 20; reservations required by contacting Jim Avery (below).
More info:  Jim Avery at 919-219-4165 or javery3@nc.rr.com.

Runs

North Carolina Roadrunners Club 9th Annual Resolution Run
What: 5k/fun run;
When: 9 a.m.
Where: NCSU Centennial Campus, 1099 Main Campus Dr., Raleigh.
The Scoop: Predict your time before the race, when a prize if you come close. Awards in 5K to top three male and female overall finishers and the top three male and female finishers in each of the following age divisions: 19-under, 20-29, 30-39, 40-49, 50-59, 60-69, and 70-over. $20 for the 5K, $10 for the Mini-Resolution fun runs (100 meters for ages 6 and under, 1/4-mile for 6- to 10-year-olds.
More info:   joutlaw@nc.rr.com or visit the N.C. Roadrunners Club.

New Year’s Day Run
What: 5-mile cross-country run.
When: 1 p.m.
Where: Duke School for Children, 3716 Erwin Road, Durham.
The Scoop: Part of the Carolina Godiva track club’s Winter Series. $5 fee.
More info: 919.929.8582  pjbruer@gmail.com.

Rides

TORC/Cycling Spoken Here Governor’s Creek New Year’s Ride
What: 6- to 12-mile (your choice) group mountain bike ride.
When: Noon.
Where: Governor’s Creek Trails, 3392 Underwood Road, Sanford. Map here.
The Scoop: Mountain bike ride on fairly mellow trail system, described by organizers as such: Mostly flow trails with some rock and a fairly challenging creek crossing. Helmet required.
More info: Go here.

New Year’s Day Ride at Umstead
What: 10- to 14-mile ride on bike & bridle trails.
When: 2 p.m.
Where: Umstead State Park, Raleigh. Meet at Harrison Avenue entrance. Map here.
The Scoop: If you’re not into singletrack (see Governor’s Creek ride above), this ride will be on the finely crushed, hard-packed bike and bridle trails at Umstead. Generally smooth riding (unless there’s been a hard rain, then watch for ruts) with some good climbs.
More info: Go here.

Triad

Hikes

Yadkin River Day Hike
When: Noon.
Where: Pilot Mountain State Park.
The Scoop: Five-mile, moderately difficult hike in the Yadkin River section. Bring water, snacks, and rain gear.
More info: 336.679.8672 before 9 p.m., joelhike@yahool.com.

Runs

4th Annual Resolution Run
When: 10 a.m.
Where: Bur-Mil Park, Greensboro.
The Scoop: 5K benefit run on greenway requiring 10 cans of food as registration fee. Preregistration requested, by going here.
More info: 336.288.7071 or go here.

Running of the Lights 5K
When: 12 a.m. (Jan. 1)
Where: Tanglewood, Clemmons.
The Scoop: Run through Tanglewood’s Festival of Lights, then watch a fireworks show and a “champaign toast (sparkling grape juice).” Free coffee, too. $25. Runners get a long-sleeve Dry-Fit T-shirt.
More info: Go here.

Rides

13th Annual Polar Bear Ride
When: Noon.
Where: Ride starts from Cycles De Oro, 1410 Mill St., Greensboro.
The Scoop: Routes of 18, 41 and 62 miles. Ride is supported. $15, plus at least two cans of food, benefitting the Second Harvest Food Bank.
More info: 336-274-5959 or go here.

Charlotte

Hikes

Hikin’ in the New Year
When: Two hikes, 10-11:30 a.m.,1:30-3 p.m.
Where: Reedy Creek Nature Center, 2900 Rocky River Road.
The Scoop: Naturalist-led, 2-mile hike. Free, but advanced registration required by calling the number below.
More info: 704.598.8857, or go here.

Girls on the Run 5K
When: 8 a.m.
Where: CMC – East Lincoln Medical Plaza, 1585 Forney Creek Parkway, Denver (northwest of Charlotte in Lincoln County).
The Scoop: 5K is part of the Girls on the Run program. $25.
More info: 704.748-9311 or go here.

Wilmington

Hikes

New Year’s Day Hike
When: 3 p.m.
Where: Lake Waccamaw State Park, 1866 State Park Dr. Lake Waccamaw (west of Wilmington).
The Scoop: Ranger-led hike.
More info: 910.646.4748, or go here.

Photo: Hikers welcome the new year on the Eno River Association’s annual New Year’s Day Hike. Photo by Ed Clayton/Eno River Association.

“C’mon everyone, gear up!” I yelled early last Thursday afternoon. “We’re going exploring.”

Concrete storm drain access or child's canvas?

As Richard Louv notes in 2008’s “Last Child in the Woods,” a look at how our children are becoming increasingly detached from the outside world and the ramifications of this “nature deficit disorder,” kids, especially younger ones, instinctively would rather be outside than indoors fiddling with a joystick. It’s been my experience that whenever I issue the call to head out, the kids are quick to deploy. And so it was Thursday.

This comes naturally in our house. I write about the outdoors, the kids are natural-born explorers. I know this isn’t the case in every household, however, so here’s a quick how-to on exploring your neighborhood wilderness.

What to wear
First, what not to wear: Anything you got for Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Festivus. Rather, wear whatever you — and more importantly the kids — don’t mind getting trashed. It’ll likely be wet out there. And muddy. Tree limbs are likely to poke holes through your sweater, briars may rip at your pant legs (oh yeah, be sure to wear long pants). And be sure to dress for the weather, taking layers for those moments when you may be standing around studying a particularly fascinating — to your 8-year-old, at least — mud hole.

A gorgeous beech cove bumps up to the back of our development.

What to take
Take a daypack with the following: drinks (juice boxes or water bottles), snacks (the fun fades quickly once they start running low on fuel), a small first-aid kit (even just some Band-Aids, Neosporin and some wet wipes tossed into a Ziplock bag), the aforementioned layers (sweatshirt, hoodie, etc.), gloves, hat, camera, compass and a cell phone in case the trip goes awry. Those are mandatory. In addition, consider a field guide (birding, local flora, animal tracks), binoculars, a journal and colored pencils and a sketch pad.

Oh, deer!

Ground rules
Before heading out, establish the ground rules for your expedition. These vary from expedition to expedition, but a good overall rule for any trip into the wild with kids: Never lose eyesight with others in the group. That’ll keep people from getting lost and from getting into trouble without help immediately available. Also: Enforce the No Whine Zone rule. Ardent couch potatoes may be prone to kvetching at first, but that likely will face when they discover their first computer laptop in the woods (this happened to us once; in fact, we found two).

Let the kids have fun
Uber alles, let the kids be kids and don’t get in the way of their fun. They’re going to get dirty, accept that from the get-go. Don’t freak if Johnny sinks into mud a foot deep (unless it looks like he’s going to keep on sinking) or if Suzy walks through the creek rather than taking the dryer rock bridge option. (Though regarding the latter, let the kids know that on a cold day you’ll be heading back early if they get excessively wet; hypothermia is no fun.) Let the kids climb trees (unless poison ivy is snaking up the trunk), let them climb on rocks. A few scrapes and bruises are signs of a successful trip into the wild. Let them explore. A kid’s imagination can go wild outdoors, especially if such an outing is a rarity.

Almost had to call in backup for extraction from this mud hole.

Use that camera
Take pictures of the kids at play, for two reasons. We like to do a computer slide show that evening, our way of reliving a great day. More importantly, the next time you propose a neighborhood expedition and the kids balk, you’ll have evidence to the contrary. “Oh, yeah,” they’ll be forced to acknowledge, “I guess we did have fun, didn’t we.”

Plan on an early bedtime
For you and the kids.

And plan on being pestered into taking a hike in the hood the next time the kids have a day off from school.

For previous suggestions on what to do with the kids on winter break, go here and here.

Then turn ‘em into a salad!

For lunch yesterday, Marcy took leftover turkey, cut it into bite-size pieces, tossed it in with some arugula, walnuts and blue cheese crumbles. She added a dollop of cranberry sauce and topped it with dressing, which we pretended were croutons. Save perhaps for the dressing-as-croutons, it was a healthier use of leftovers than, say, putting a couple slabs of turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, and gravy between two pieces of white bread and calling it a sandwich. It was also mighty tasty, and if you’re into point counting I’m guessing it had about a third the calories of a leftover sandwich.

So, what to read while eating your leftover salad? Well, in the January “O” — hey, it was right there on the dining room table and my latest “Manly Man’s World” was downstairs — is the first of a two-part piece by Paige Williams, an out-of-work magazine editor who is 80 pounds overweight, can’t sleep, has chronic headaches, had to move back in with her mother (in Mississippi!) and is, by her own estimation, a total mess. After hitting rock bottom (that would be the Mississippi/Mom, one-two KO punch), she enrolled in the 60-day Bikram yoga challenge. Her goal: To lose weight, yes, but beyond that to get her entire life — physical, spiritual, emotional, professional — back in order. January’s first installment is about how Williams got where she is and how her first 30 days of the Bikram challenge have gone. She’ll follow up in February with how she fared.

A good, honest read, especially for those of you facing a similar challenge as the new year approaches.