[Nevertheless] I Was Only Mostly Dead

Sometimes you do things you know you shouldn't. You convince yourself it will be an adventure. And then you get to the point of no return- and then you realize that maybe it wasn't the best idea after all.

We took our fifteenth hike of the year during the seventeenth week of the year. After an exhausting Holy Week and busy days following, I needed to take respite in nature - to do something that wasn't church or mainstage or medical appointments. I needed to go on a hike.

It was fairly last minute, so when I asked my husband where he'd like to go, he suggested a place I'd previously mentioned that was close by. I agreed, recalling that it had sounded like an interesting hike when I'd come across it weeks before. 

It wasn't until we began scaling rock faces that I remembered the concerns I'd had with this particular hike and why we hadn't done it sooner. But how bad could it be? It was rated moderate, after all. 

A mile isn't long until you add ledges, boulders, and crevices to the mix. Mile of Ledges certainly lived up to its name, and navigating it on crutches was definitely a challenge. We scrambled up rocks, lowered ourselves into crevices, climbed up through crevices, and discovered that whomever blazed the trail chose scrambling over boulders and up rock faces over circumventing the obstacles every single time. 

There were streams to cross as well.

About halfway through the hike, we came out of the woods to a small roadside parking area. Next time, I announced, we bring two vehicles, parking one there just in case I don't feel like I can go any further. At that point, I wasn't sure continuing for another two and a half miles was something my body could do. Jim offered to hike the rest himself and come pick me up, but we'd been on the trail for ages and I didn't want to sit and wait. So onward we trekked.

A half mile down the road, we picked up the trail again - and ascent back into the woods...up more rocks to the top of a hill, then up some more.

At last we made it to Tory Den, stopping just long enough to get our bearings before finishing the last three quarters of a mile of the hike. My body was done. My pain blinders were up. I was doing whatever I could just to get back to the van, blind to my surroundings, drowning in exhaustion and pain. 

I stopped to catch my breath, and there it was. A moment of beauty to remind me why I put myself through this. New life springing up after a long winter. I love hiking. I love nature. I love feeling surrounded by God's presence. And I love doing what I can to make sure I'm around for more moments such as these.

The hike was much tougher than planned, nevertheless, it left me only mostly dead. And as Miracle Max says, "mostly dead is slightly alive" ... and even slightly alive one can make it through what the rest of the week has in store. Mostly.