Before the pitter patter of little feet first echoed in our house we kept a log of our hikes. From Camel's Hump and Mount Mansfield in Vermont to Giant Mountain in the New York Adirondacks, to Mount Washington in New Hampshire to the Athabasca Ice Fields in Alberta and Longs Peak in Colorado. Each time we accomplished an ascent, we would write an entry, usually no more than a page or two, and later post a snapshot or two once our photos were printed. This gave us reminders of the "joys of the journeys" that any hiker knows to well. Most of our hikes were uneventful tours of spectacular beauty, while some were a "foot bath through the wilderness".
Once we had kids, the hiking log took on new meaning. It wasn't just a chronicle of a pair of intrepid explorers. It became a story of a family's commitment to playing outdoors. As I look back through twenty years of our journal now I see it represents a commitment to hard work, an appreciation of nature (and of how good a tuna fish sandwich can taste after a few hours on the trail). And I see joyful experiences.
"9/20/90-- Today was our first hike up Mount Philo as a family. Our little guy got a ride in the snuggly. It was a perfect day for Mom and Dad to get a little extra workout carrying him up and down the mountain. The trudge to the top was well worth it. Light southerly breezes, beautiful farmland and lake below. Snake Mountain and the Mount Marcy beckoning in the misty distance..." It never ceases to amaze me how getting the juices flowing with a hike can inspire prose that would take weeks in front of the computer!"
A few years later another standout hike in Vermont found us heading up Mount Abraham through a wooded trail to the summit at tree line. It was a hard hike and our 8 year old daughter and 10 year old son kept up with us every step of the way. While hiking is always hard on the feet, because of varied conditions, scrambling over rocks, tree roots, sometimes slippery places, the kids didn't complain. One of my enduring memories of all of our hikes was my daughter trudging along, wearing her "Barbie" sneakers, with thin crepe rubber soles, plodding along over rocks and roots and mud! What a trooper! That was one hike with a well-deserved a pizza when we finally returned to the trailhead later on in Bristol.
Another cool hike was on a rugged trail in Mueller State park above Colorado Springs, Colorado. My poor daughter had altitude sickness (headaches and dizziness) most of time we were in the mountainsl The night before our hike, our 10 and 12 year old had participated in a Junior Ranger educational program on wildcats. The ranger program informed us of the danger of big hungry cats and bears on our hiking trail. We hiked down the side of a ravine and I remember paying attention with every step, looking behind and beside the car-sized boulders, knowing that a big cat would see us long before we saw him. Fortunately the only encounter we had that day was with wild turkeys!
Our kids are adults now. One of them often spends time hiking in the mountains and the other is more of suburban hiker. I know that deep down inside they both have a fond appreciation and understanding of nature as a result of our family experiences. They also have self discipline as a result of their hiking experiences, with wholesome memories and stories to tell, and something to pass on to future generations.
