As you recall, we have gotten off of the beaten path. We are now following a deer trail (hopefully) back to the main trail. It is an adventure. But first, let me give you an inside picture of what our day looked like. The woollies. The cast of characters.
Our tour (a threeeee hour touuuuur...) guide, also known as, "Dad."
Tree hugger...
Sister hugger...
That would be correct...
Check out my dad's outline at the top of the trail...awesome...
Jurassic Park--little did we know, about an hour later, we'd be climbing back up through the ferns...
Mom smiling, but she's starting to get fussy...
A horse...
So, we made it to the top. We're all starting to delayer, cuz we're hot and sweaty now. We're actually hiking now. True that. We're a little scratched up (well, mom and I are) due to the briers we have just maneuvered through. Mom's looking a little P to the O'ed. Yeah...she did not like that. She let it be known.
Now we're making our way down a path created by deer, or other wild animals that live in the woollies that I'm trying not to think about, trying to find our way back to the main trail. It goes a little something like this--
Dad's confident. That's reassuring, though all these alarms are going off in my head, but no one's listening to me (that'd be dad). We keep trekking. Hubby and I joke that if it were just us and the kiddos we'd be in the car driving home, an hour ago, saying, "Well, that was fun, let's go home and brew beer and blog!" But we're on an adventure. This is fun, and really it still is. We still have five hours of daylight left. It's like Dora the Explorer, except we left our backpack (backpack) in the car.
My dad goes ahead and scouts out a way. He finds a horse trail. We are now more confident that we are on the right track back to civilization. We follow these--
Or what I like to refer to as, "ribbons of hope". So after a very long time, we follow the horse trail, down to the creek.
Mom and I stop to take a breather and document our "adventure". Mom is really doing her best to smile.
However, dad informs us that the horse trail is going west. We need to go east. There is no trail, no sign of trail, going east. Now let me just say, my dad is very good at this. Very good at the whole direction bit--the creek is to the left of us, the sun is behind us, sort of thing. He does this all the time. He goes out into the woollies, gets lost, finds his way out. No biggie. Well now...he's got his whole family trailing behind him. This is a whole other animal. Mom and I suggest to go back from whence we came (again), but that is a loooong way to go now, and dad assures us (and what I mean by this is, ignores us and keeps trekking along). We follow. No path. We could really use a machete. Or a horse. It's thick in there. Thick, I tell you. I'm feeling pretty good. Making jokes. I'm sure we're going to be on the news that night...ha ha...funny stuff, guys...laugh with me...Mom's not laughing.
We're following dad. He's a good distance in front of us, scouting out a way. When I see him coming back to us, my stomach basically takes a leap into my throat. Especially when he says, "It's getting too thick and steep now, we need to go up." Yipes. This is feeling serious now. I start to plan our evening. We'll build a hut out of fern branches, I'll give A-girl my hoodie and we'll take turns sipping my dad's leftover latte. I'm pretty sure it's going to be a good time.
We start climbing. And by climbing, I really do mean climbing. We're pulling ourselves up on roots and branches and digging our fingers in soil, to get a grip. Do not look down. Mom looks down and starts crying. I'm seriously like body blocking my girls as I push them up the side of the mountain. They have no idea how much we could have used Dora's backpack at this point. I'm still joking though, that we are actually very close to the main trail and that there are probably people observing us and wondering why we just don't get back on the trail, which is probably like 10 feet away or something. Cuz you really can't tell. It's that thick in there.
We are really trying to keep it light. To keep our sense of humor. It's a form of defense, survival skills that my family is very good at. But at some point, as we're pushing our way through, I start praying. Please don't let us be on the news. A-girl echoes the prayers going on in my head saying, "We need to get out of here!" In all this, the girls have been excellent. No complaining. No one has had to go to the bathroom. No one has asked for food or water. That just never happens. We could be in Walmart for 0.17 seconds and someone has already made one of those requests. So, I silently thank the Lord for that too. My girls are awesome.
We go on. We just keep going and going. And just as I'm starting to feel the crazy well up inside me. Just as the words are about to come out of my mouth...my dad brings us out. Out of the thick. Onto a path. A real life path. I see actual trail markers. Real life signs that we are back in civilization. I actually, Hallelujah! right then and there. All echo-ey and loud. As you should when you feel like your gonna live again. We all are high five-ing and hugging, no doubt putting on quite the show for those observers I was talking about a couple paragraphs back. My dad is awesome. I look up at him like I'm five years old again, all admiring and such. He would never, never admit that we were lost though. He would get all philosophical and spiritual about it, before he would admit it. But let me tell you...we were lost. I don't even know how we didn't see one snake, a bear, or that monster from LOST. I was really making an effort not to look for any of that too. I could not let myself admit that those things were actually within the vicinity.
On a quick side note--Yesterday I caught the end of one of those real-life survival shows. Well, this couple had been hiking and one of them got attacked by a cougar. I immediately had hubby Google and see if there were cougars in the area where we were hiking. And that would be a big Ol'--YEP. So yeah...Add cougars to that list.
This is what we looked like after--
Still smiling. Can't wait to do it again. Really.
3 comments:
Good think I'm never going hiking with you guys... :)
The joys of a good hike. That was a great story & a great adventure. I wonder if you'll be doing it again soon? ;)
Still smiling after all that, you did well! I am sure all the animals were just laughing at you, silly humans...
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