You Are Here
“If we head this way, we will basically be going back the way we just came,” my husband says when we hit a fork on a trail on South Mountain. “If we head up the ridgeline, it will be more adventurous.”
I know he refers not only to the terrain, but to the fact that darkness is less than one hour away. The hike up the ridgeline trail will probably take more time.
“I don’t think we’ve ever hiked that section of trail before,” my husband says, offering the winning argument in his mind.
“Up the ridgeline it is,” I say, stepping in that direction.
The sun has already slipped behind the Estrellas, the sky a light tangerine, as we climb in elevation. The trail mutes from brown to gray in the decreasing light. We leave the Bursera Trail and continue on the National.
We round a bend and pass a trail marker.
Instead of the usual “You are here” markers with miles traveled and miles left to go, the Park Service has replaced markers on the National Trail with QR codes. A scan with a smart phone gives accurate information about the entire trail system including the current location. Each marker also lists the GPS coordinates, a computer-savvy “You are Here!” If a hiker ever gets in trouble, the information can help rescuers locate them.
We all need reminders of where we are, where we’ve been, and where we are going.
Thirty minutes later we meet another hiker, a gallon water jug dangling from his fingers. When he sees us, he puts down his cell phone. “How long to the trailhead,” he heaves. He looks exhausted.
“The last marker was thirty minutes ago. Then 2.8 miles after that.”
“That far?” His shoulders droop. “I’ve been hiking since 10 a.m.”
I do the math. Eight hours.
“I thought the National was fifteen miles,” he says.
My husband agrees.
“I think the trail markers are wrong,” the hiker complains.
I wonder at the wisdom of a guy who decides to go hiking on a trail he doesn’t know with only a gallon water jug, but I understand his complaint. I’ve had days I’ve wondered about the mileage listed on trail markers too. (Four miles! It had to be at least six!) I also know what it is like to find myself on a journey that is harder, longer, and takes more than I imagined.
Like motherhood. Friendship. Caring for aging parents. Faith.
Haven't I sometimes found myself on a trail that has been more adventurous than I had counted on? That has left me spent and exhausted?
“I heard a pack of coyotes a bit back,” the hiker says. “Glad I’m carrying something.” He pats the pocket of his shirt. Apparently he brought more than his cell phone and water.
We part ways in the waning light. He trudges down the trail as we continue to climb. A few minutes later we pass another trail marker.
On Saturday, I attended a baby shower and a few hours later, an 80th birthday party.
One of the things I love most about being part of a multi-generational community of faith is the span of life we have been privy to witness. I love joining in milestone events – the beginnings in all the pink sweetness and eighty years later, the photos and memories of a life still being well-lived.
My 80-year-old friend has many stories to share about the trails she has traveled. I'm not sure it ever included a pack of coyotes and a water jug, but she has had adventures, none the less. And one day this yet-to-be-born daughter will have her own tales. For now, her parents are the ones saying, "Hey! This path looks adventurous. Let's head up the ridgeline!"
In many ways, baby showers, weddings, birthday parties, and yes, even funerals, are trail markers of our lives. Whether at the beginning of the adventure or wandering the back trails, we all need moments to stop and take note of the journey. We all need occasions to celebrate:
You Are Here.