Howdy,
About camping, What if?—or, If only …
Continued from yesterday: Part 6 (Post B) …
Not-so-idyllic:
Gosh, I’ve already written so much about the good stuff—the idyllic, you might say—because it is a great hike, and I’d do it again for sure. It’s short and fairly easy, really. But it’s got its intensity in places and had my family’s attention, which is just good for safety anyway. Not a bad thing. And they conquered it, which is also good. What was really cool was that after not having cell reception for a couple of days a few texts dinged through as we were on the toughest part, approaching the top, and one was from our friend Larry who had sent the verse 1 Peter 5:7: “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” A thank you and one foot in front of the other, out in God’s wonderful wilderness and wild creation.
The drive from camp to the Fresno Dome trailhead was only like 20-25 minutes (but that was for only like five or six miles—very bumpy and dusty with chunks of dirt road missing). Epa totally getting dusted out on his motorcycle on the drive up; he was very patient and gracious bringing up the rear of the caravan. Thanks, Tom.
Did I mention that we had eight children ages eight and under on the hike?
Honestly, the kids did great and were of course taking them was a big reason for why we’d even want to go, but they did make us nervous. The stakes are so high (literally). Sarah and I hear in a talk once about raising the kids about the difference between hurt and harm with your kids. Meaning, your kids are going to get hurt, it’s going to happen, and they’ll heal—part of the deal—but you want to watch out for harm. Harm can come in different forms—and falling off a granite cliff would qualify. Sickening feeling.
But that’s one to remember: your active kids will get hurt and will recover and you have to let them play, like monsters in a bash and crash destruction derby in tennis shoes, so don’t freak out about hurt as if it’s harm, but be alert for harm—worth the alarm. Neither hurt nor harm is idyllic, but seeking to allow no-hurt would also be not-so-idyllic. Remember the hammock and the face plants? A good hurt. Or, as we rough and tough street-balling basketballers say, “No harm, no foul.”
Doesn’t mean a mother won’t worry a bit (and, okay, a big tough dad, too, if it’s serious enough), but only because those little darling daredevils hustling ahead on life’s hike are so darn cute.
Speaking of cute but no longer in the not-so-idyllic category (the “columns” turned out to be only so effective anyway—I mean, growing and active kids seem to just kind of live, behave, entertain, and experience across both sides of the categories anyway, but babies, babies, those little angels, nothing but idyllic bundles of love and joy—when they’re not barfing, pooping, or screaming for more food to convert to barf and poop, that’s is, you know), another text coming through on the dome was from David with a handsome picture of our newborn nephew, Finnley Michael Hawes, dressed in his going-home-from-the-hospital clothes. Finn was looking like a stud and ready to riggity roll. His own epic adventure being a journey home for the first time, where he will get to live with two great new parents, David and Melanie. Congratulations again, guys!!
Oh, happy campers.
—Billy
Reading. Writing. Living.
Word Count: 144,593 / On Pace: 152,900 / Year’s Goal: 200,000
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