THE AMERICAN TOBACCO TRAIL

My husband and I have been trying to explore our new hometown spending little to no money.  It has been an interesting challenge for sure. We weren't big spenders in Los Angeles, but we did enjoy a meal out a few times a week. We have been Googling like it's going out of style to get the lay of the land.  For anyone that just moved to a new city in the U.S. there's an interesting forum called City Data that you can pose questions to about everything from finding a new yogi to the cheapest farmers market in your area, it's how I found my wood working class. I don't know about other areas of the country but the City Data for our area is really active. We were notified that blueberries are ready to be picked and where to pick them, I love that!  We looked up hiking trails close by (not spending includes gas to get some place).  We found a trail that was relatively close to our house, free parking and miles of walking, biking (or even horseback riding) to be had. I brought my honking camera and promptly regretted it as it was heavy and I was sweating profusely from the moment I stepped out of the vehicle.  I consider myself active, but I don't work out so I figured we would walk a mile and turn around and eat lunch.  Have I mentioned that my husband is obsessed with working out?  After each mile he would request we do, 'just a half mile more'.  I haven't worked out for about 7 years so each additional mile was torture and when we finally stopped I knew we would have to turn around and do more. I ended up walking six miles in oppressive Southern summer heat. I think I sweated the equivalent of my body weight and would like to tell you that I look like a waif now but heat also makes your body parts swell so my hands and feet look like they were incased in sausage casings, my bright red face was a sight as well.  Good thing my husband thinks I am the bee's knees because I would have scared off a lesser man. Another good thing was that I was too pooped to flog my husband for not turning around at the one mile mark.