Climbing Mountains

This past Saturday, my husband, girls and I had a rare summer day to ourselves. What’s more, quite out of line with our luck, the weather promised to be perfect for a day outdoors. So what does a camp family wake up and decide to do with such a day?

Let’s hike Maryland Heights!

Now, normal people might not think that tackling arguably the toughest hike up a mountain nearby with small children in tow is fun. What can I say? We were sleep-deprived and not thinking straight. Also, I was still dealing with jet lag from my return flights from my two week stint in Zimbabwe.

Except that’s not really it.

My husband interviews young adults every year to serve as camp staff for the United Methodist camp and retreat center he directs. He’s got a few wonderful folks who help year-round, but the summer camp season always brings a flurry of interviews, decisions, paperwork, etc.

When Chris and I were first married, I often helped with these interviews. One of the last interviews I did, not too long after that, though, was for Steve, now Chris’ assistant director. I hired myself out of a job.

These days I don’t help interview (unless in the rare occasion Steve can’t make an interview—he scheduled them so this rarely happens). I do, however, know things have changed some. They’ve come up with some new questions, though have kept some classics.

One of the new questions is this: Why do people climb mountains?

So I guess that’s the question for this past Saturday. Why did we climb the mountain?

With our 4½ year old trudging along and our nearly 2 year old tucked in a hiking backpack.

The first reason is simple—it was a nice day and what better way to guarantee a peaceful afternoon than to have two tired children (this calculation forgets that the parents will be tired too and the kids get a nap while the parents don’t)?

The other reason is this: there is an awesome view to be seen on a clear day from the top of Maryland Heights, and there is great value in learning that you can push through tough spots and that hard work leads to something pretty awesome.

Chris and I went into the hike preparing ourselves that Anna, our oldest, wouldn’t make it the entire way. No one wants to be the parent forcing your child on a death march up a mountain. But there’s a fine (probably not a very fine one, but a line) between pushing your child to an accomplishment you know what can safely achieve with hard work, and destroying your child pushing them to a goal you have for them which is beyond their reach.

Chris and I have also both hiked that mountain with campers. At the end of the hike, Chris cheerily remarked (cheerily came harder at that point, but still it came) that Anna didn’t complain any more than Senior High campers. So there’s that. J

As it turned out, the hike was tough. We expected it to be, and it was. It was tough for Anna, and for me. I won’t speak for Chris, but it had been a couple years since I’d done that particular hike, and there’s this one stretch—the hill up from the overlook, that is just BRUTAL and I hate it SO MUCH. But we pushed up the mountain. We took breaks when Anna needed them, we encouraged and yes even pushed her a bit. We told her not to run up the mountain (why is this kids’ first instinct when trying to do something?! We explained she’d have to pace herself to make it all the way).

Before we knew it, we were more than half the way there. When Anna asked how much farther and we told her we were more than halfway, she seemed a bit more determined to make it. We sang up the steep parts. Anna had an easier time doing so that I sometimes did. She made up a zillion new verses to “This Little Light of Mine,” and we trudged along.

At the overlook, Anna was amazed, and I loved watching her and her dad plant themselves (safely back from) beside the edge and look out. I didn’t get to watch that too much, because my squirmy toddler was over sitting still, but even so, it was cute.

On the way down, Anna asked if we could hike it again. She also complained she was tired. We were all tired. Seeing the amazing things that come after hard work don’t make you not tired from the journey.

As we got even further down, Mary, our almost two-year-old, decided she’d had enough of the backpack.  She insisted on walking. I thought it would last ten minutes, tops. Nope…she hiked the entire rest of the 2/3 of the way down.

We were all tired by the time we finished. The next day, I felt like a bus had hit me (the jetlag didn’t like the hike). Anna, however, was good. And proud.  She has enjoyed telling people what she did.

Anna will, I am sure, have many more hikes ahead. Maybe she will have more than even Chris or I can imagine. I know, though, that she will have mountains to climb in life. She’ll need to sing her way through the hard parts, and learn to cut herself slack and take breaks when she wants to. I hope we have many more times to hike together as a family.

I learn something new each time I hike.

This time, I learned that my little girls have as much if not more determination than almost anyone I know. I can’t wait to see the mountains they’ll summit and cross.