Rescue 911

The last few weekends, I’ve taken either one or both boys on hikes. Two weeks ago, Son #1 and I walked along a path near our house that I had seen but had never taken. It began alongside a cornfield, wound its way through a little woods and ended in a huge clearing that was flanked by marshlands filled with cattails. In the middle of the clearing was a great, blue heron that allowed us to approach and then swooped away. We were amazed; it was huge. Then both of us lay down in the grass for a while looking at the clouds and then made our way home.

Last Sunday evening, the three of us walked through the woods in Tinker Park just before dusk. There were deer all around who just looked up at us as we passed. We played on the playground and walked the labyrinth.

Years ago, my girlfriends and I decided that we would go on a big hike the first warm day of spring every year. One year we climbed the face of Bristol Mountain and, when we got to the top, stripped down to our shorts and bras to bask in the hot sun only to have a group of guys descend on us mere moments later. So much for thinking we had the mountain to ourselves.

Another year we began climbing a steep, rocky path alongside a stream in Naples, NY. At first we were jumping from stone to stone to cross the stream but after a number of misses, we just started trudging straight through the ice cold water. We were soaking wet but it felt exhilarating. When my girlfriend Poo got to the top of the cliff and saw a little rope hanging from a tree presumably to swing us across a fairly large precipice to the next overhang, she stopped and said, “Turn back, we can’t go any farther.” Unfortunately for me, my fingers were at the top of the overhang and my toes were dug into the rock. I was literally hanging off the face of the incline. Me. The girl who cannot open a soda bottle with her bare hands was facing a sheer drop into the abyss.

Much akin to driving to the hospital on my way to give birth to Son #1 trying to figure out if it was too late to outsource, my brain was scrambling. I honestly thought we were going to have to call “Rescue 911.” I needed a helicopter and a basket. Somehow, I mustered up my courage and made my way back down to the ledge below where my friend Patti helped me to safety. I was pretty shaken but, at least for a short while, I felt really confident and empowered.

But not enough to want to repeat it--ever!