A Walk to Remember

I’ve bored you enough talking about not feeling well but if you’re curious—it’s still in my lungs and yes it hurts. I need to cough, but it’s opening a Pandora’s box when I do. One small cough turns into convulsions and I get all weepy and whiney, much like Elisabeth Hasselbeck on The View, who I’m sure is lovely in person, but can be really annoying on the show.

And the soup I made? Rock and Roll it’s fantastic. I kid you not. I had it for breakfast. I like to have soup or broth for breakfast when I’m not feeling well. Hello Food Network. I’m the non-cook and if I can do it anyone can. I suspect they’ll be calling soon to offer me my own show, and for being a non-cook I have an awful lot of food pictures on here. Maybe I’ll become a food stylist.

A girlfriend and I were talking recently and she recommended I tell this (true) story. I hadn't considered it before but she was right. It's worth telling --

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It was 2003 or somewhere around there and I was tired of the northeast angst. Tired of everyone running around saying they wish they had more time and bragging about how busy they always were.

I wondered how much living we were actually doing and considered moving to the Pacific Northwest because I’d been out there once before and it opened my eyes to a way of living that was in synch with my style. It was laid-back and friendly, and the people were intelligent and cultured. They did everything we do, without the frenzy.

I flew to Portland, Oregon, rented a car and let the trip unfold however it was supposed to. No set times to be anywhere, no hotel reservations forcing my schedule and I was alone for the next several days to be with my thoughts and opinions of whatever these days were going to show me.

The night I arrived I spoke with people at the hotel and restaurant where I had dinner, who told me I had to go to Multnomah Falls. Everyone raved about it so that would be my first stop.

It was early morning, in the high 70’s and the sun was bright and warm. It was a 25 minute drive to the falls and there were already people lingering around having coffee and keeping track of their kids. I’d grabbed my backpack that had my camera, tissues, some nuts that I’d packed for the plane and a bottle of water. I bypassed the gift shop and snack area and headed straight for the falls so I could take some pictures and get back on the road.

Of course the Falls were gorgeous. Did you ever see an ugly waterfall? It wasn’t just the water, but everything around it was so lush and green and fresh. And the sound of traffic and commercialism bombarding us from every direction was replaced by the powerful hush of massive amounts of water falling from a high place.

I took pictures from the bottom but it was hard to get a good shot with people in the way so I hiked up the winding trail with its moss covered stone walls and stopped where openings allowed to get the best shot. The further I went up the trail, the more quiet it got, and the people I passed coming down looked all peaceful.

I reached the top of the falls and did a small victory dance (in my head). I couldn’t get a good shot from this angle, so I did what any reasonable, sane person would do-- I proceeded to check out what was further up the trail.

I wondered what was around the next bend and what views would open up. It felt good to be there and I wasn’t ready to turn back yet. I realized how out of shape I was. My thighs were burning and I was out of breath but the peacefulness seduced me to continue on.

The wide path made it easy to follow and the soft ground made walking easier than other trails I'd been on. The trees were huge, like my personal soldiers standing at attention as I passed by. The leaves on the treetops would rustle in the soft wind and I felt small, but significant in this massive place. There was a calm that can only be found in nature, where nothing is forced and beauty is pure.

The aching in my thighs turned to numbness and my breathing fell into a rhythm that allowed me to continue further up the mountain. I passed markers for different trails and did my best to keep my bearings. I knew I'd hiked a good distance by this point and wondered how much further it was to the top.

There were streams with trickling water and hills to climb and then flat areas for relief. My mind slowed to a tempo that that matched the stillness and I was free of cognitive thinking.

I had no idea how long I’d been gone at this point. I had no watch and did not own a cell phone at the time. I watched the sun make its way over my head and off to the other side. I figured I’d been gone a couple hours at this point. Was I scared? No. But it did occur to me at one point that I was on the other side of the country alone, no one knew I was there, there was no sign-in to hike the trail (that I knew of) and the last thing I needed was to break my ankle. So I was careful.

The trail continued and I followed with a peculiar certainty that I was exactly where I needed to be. My thoughts were perfectly clear and ideas flashed in my mind without me thinking of them. Book titles and ideas for inventions were coming at me like billboards you pass on the highway. Everything was perfect, I was perfect and everything was right. I was in Heaven. I’d actually hiked my way into Heaven.

I was connected to something much bigger than myself and I can’t explain it. There are no words because it’s something I’d never experienced before. Pristine clarity without question is the best way I can sum it up. I felt one with nature and God or the Universe or whatever it is to you.

The marker showed it was 1.3 miles to the top. Too close to turn back. The trail was getting steep. I was slowing down and getting tired but I was excited. I’d never hiked to the top of a big mountain before. It was getting cooler and the wind was picking up. I took the light jacket that was tied around my waist and put it on over my t-shirt. The trees were all beneath me now and I was level with tree tops.

Around every bend and every incline I’d hope to see the trail end, and finally, I reached the small peak at the top. The wind was blowing so hard up there you had to crouch down for fear of being blown off the mountain. Everything looked so small. I could see a road and cars that looked like toys. I looked at the trees beneath me in awe that I’d walked through all of them from that spot below.

I snapped a few pictures of myself for proof that I’d made it and was eager to get back to the car before my legs gave out on me. I quickly learned that going up the mountain and coming down use different sets of muscles and I felt every single twinge and pang.

I concentrated, navigating my way back to where I started. Going down the mountain was so much easier than going up but the pain in my legs was setting in and it wasn’t the burning kind of pain I started out with. This felt like a pain that wasn’t going to go away as quickly. I was relieved when I saw I was getting closer to the bottom, but concerned becasue I didn’t see the gift shop and snack area buildings.

I passed another hiker who told me the buildings I was looking for were almost a mile away and pointed towards the trail I should take. It was a big setback after this beautiful experience and I was in agony. I didn’t know if I had it in me, but I had no choice. I think I limped my way back to the starting point and immediately went in search for a bathroom and a clock, and then went into the gift shop where they gave me a map and highlighted the trails I was on.

I’d been gone and in awe for five hours, hiked approx. 11 miles up and down a mountain and connected with a Divine Being. I was in nature's bliss and loved every minute of it. If only I had pen and paper or a way to record everything, but I suspect it doesn’t work that way. It wasn’t meant to be boiled down to a simple sentence, concept or idea. It was much too big, too all-encompassing for that. I carry that day with me, as much as I can hold, and I'm grateful for that beautiful day. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life and one I will never forget.