Seeking and Finding Sun, 11th August, 2013
My family vacation trip to Colorado this week has been an opportunity to relax and rediscover connections with family, friends and the mountains. Hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park was a highlight of the trip,and, as it turns out, a great teacher of truths.
A hike through forests, across meadows and up and down mountain peaks of course is a metaphor for life's journey. And most important for me this past week, the hikes had something important to say about the importance of companions—especially family—on this trek.
Prior to Betsy's late arrival to join our family vacation, the kids and I set out for RMNP to explore the Bierstadt Lake trail near Bear Lake. Owen was eager for the hike and pressed forward with urgency. The shared experience was beautiful, negotiating rocks, occasional mud and tree roots along the trail and sharing observations of animals, trees and mountain vistas encountered along the way. Someone else always notices something I miss, and that is the best reason to share the journey.
I soon realized that this journey is not just about reconnecting with nature and sharing the experience, but about caring for fellow travelers along the way. Did everyone have proper footwear? Did we have enough water? Will the destination be far away enough to please the vigorous hikers, while still close enough as to not discourage the more reluctant ones?
When navigating rocky terrain, I often think of the first serious hike I ever undertook as a young man. A group of us from the university set out for the Lake District of England to climb the perilous Mt. Scafel. Cold, wet weather set in at the top of the mountain and we began descending in the slippery mist. Being an inexperienced flatlander from Central Indiana, I did not have proper hiking boots, which nearly resulted in disaster. We were scrambling across a scree of loose, wet rocks when I lost footing and began to slide down the mountainside. I panicked as I faced the reality that I might actually slide off the cliff to my doom. Suddenly, the hand of a fellow trekker reached down and grabbed mine, pulling me up to safety.
Though nothing that perilous occurred last week, it was present in my mind as Meredith and I realized we had "lost" Owen. He was hiking ahead of us, impatient with our plodding pace and impervious to the relative lack of oxygen at 10,000 feet. We came to a fork in the trail and we didn't know which way he had gone. We searched for a while in one direction, then thought it more likely he had continued towards the lake. We circled the lake, trying everything we could think of to avoid missing him as he turned back to search for us. Meredith and I agreed to divide and conquer, with her sitting in strategic locations while I moved about in active search mode. This would improve our odds of intercepting our wayward son and brother. I was very proud of her bravery as she conquered her own fears.
What was an enjoyable hike had started to turn into a panic. We asked other hikers along the way if they had seen Owen and a few of them had, giving us encouragement. A nice family from New Jersey, who was going another way, offered to keep an eye out for him and tell him where to meet us. It was quickly turning into a communal effort to reunite our family.
When I came back to the "waiting place" where I had left Meredith, I was surprised to find a woman waiting there with her. Her name was Pippa, a teacher from Seville, Spain. She had compassion and concern for poor Meredith sitting there alone, no doubt looking brave but scared. Pippa resolved to wait with her and refused to leave until I had returned. This was a great blessing to us. As it turns out, Pippa was herself lost because of the confusing network of trails surrounding the lake. Expressing concern for others perhaps made her own plight a little easier to bear.
Just then, Owen's phone finally came back into range and we connected by text message. He was already heading back to the trail head, which was the logical thing to do. We helped Pippa find the trail that lead to the car park where she had left her car, thereby returning the favor of her caring for Meredith. All were reunited in the end, and we made some good (if temporary) friends in the process.
May we be grateful for all the fellow travelers in this life who care for each other along the way. Despite the mythology of the rugged individual, we all need each other. May it ever be so.
My family vacation trip to Colorado this week has been an opportunity to relax and rediscover connections with family, friends and the mountains. Hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park was a highlight of the trip,and, as it turns out, a great teacher of truths.
A hike through forests, across meadows and up and down mountain peaks of course is a metaphor for life's journey. And most important for me this past week, the hikes had something important to say about the importance of companions—especially family—on this trek.
Prior to Betsy's late arrival to join our family vacation, the kids and I set out for RMNP to explore the Bierstadt Lake trail near Bear Lake. Owen was eager for the hike and pressed forward with urgency. The shared experience was beautiful, negotiating rocks, occasional mud and tree roots along the trail and sharing observations of animals, trees and mountain vistas encountered along the way. Someone else always notices something I miss, and that is the best reason to share the journey.
I soon realized that this journey is not just about reconnecting with nature and sharing the experience, but about caring for fellow travelers along the way. Did everyone have proper footwear? Did we have enough water? Will the destination be far away enough to please the vigorous hikers, while still close enough as to not discourage the more reluctant ones?
When navigating rocky terrain, I often think of the first serious hike I ever undertook as a young man. A group of us from the university set out for the Lake District of England to climb the perilous Mt. Scafel. Cold, wet weather set in at the top of the mountain and we began descending in the slippery mist. Being an inexperienced flatlander from Central Indiana, I did not have proper hiking boots, which nearly resulted in disaster. We were scrambling across a scree of loose, wet rocks when I lost footing and began to slide down the mountainside. I panicked as I faced the reality that I might actually slide off the cliff to my doom. Suddenly, the hand of a fellow trekker reached down and grabbed mine, pulling me up to safety.
Though nothing that perilous occurred last week, it was present in my mind as Meredith and I realized we had "lost" Owen. He was hiking ahead of us, impatient with our plodding pace and impervious to the relative lack of oxygen at 10,000 feet. We came to a fork in the trail and we didn't know which way he had gone. We searched for a while in one direction, then thought it more likely he had continued towards the lake. We circled the lake, trying everything we could think of to avoid missing him as he turned back to search for us. Meredith and I agreed to divide and conquer, with her sitting in strategic locations while I moved about in active search mode. This would improve our odds of intercepting our wayward son and brother. I was very proud of her bravery as she conquered her own fears.
What was an enjoyable hike had started to turn into a panic. We asked other hikers along the way if they had seen Owen and a few of them had, giving us encouragement. A nice family from New Jersey, who was going another way, offered to keep an eye out for him and tell him where to meet us. It was quickly turning into a communal effort to reunite our family.
When I came back to the "waiting place" where I had left Meredith, I was surprised to find a woman waiting there with her. Her name was Pippa, a teacher from Seville, Spain. She had compassion and concern for poor Meredith sitting there alone, no doubt looking brave but scared. Pippa resolved to wait with her and refused to leave until I had returned. This was a great blessing to us. As it turns out, Pippa was herself lost because of the confusing network of trails surrounding the lake. Expressing concern for others perhaps made her own plight a little easier to bear.
Just then, Owen's phone finally came back into range and we connected by text message. He was already heading back to the trail head, which was the logical thing to do. We helped Pippa find the trail that lead to the car park where she had left her car, thereby returning the favor of her caring for Meredith. All were reunited in the end, and we made some good (if temporary) friends in the process.
May we be grateful for all the fellow travelers in this life who care for each other along the way. Despite the mythology of the rugged individual, we all need each other. May it ever be so.
