Recently my family visited Grandfather Mountain NC, and after checking the famous Mile High Swinging Bridge off our list, we decided to hike the Grandfather Trail. There was a big warning sign right at the start of the trail, explicitly stating in capital letters that this was for experienced hikers and ended with a grim notice that if our car was still in the parking lot after 6:00 PM, a search party would be sent out. Well, I thought, how bad can it be? It’s just another trail, and we've done a few of others that were quite strenuous. About thirty minutes into the trail, I realized that the sign was put up for a reason!
Up and up we went, over rocks, boulders, and fallen trees. Some ascents were on ladders, others using cables, and some we just had to grab on to whatever nature provided. The air got thinner and while I did OK for most part, it was a harsh reminder of how out of shape I was, especially after being inconsistent with my workout and martial arts routines during the COVID lockdown. My boys, 14 and 12, were eager to go as high as they could and our aim was to reach McCrae's Peak, which stands at 5,844 feet (1,782 meters). To put it in context, Raleigh is at about 315 feet, Albuquerque NM is at 5,315 feet, Mount Denali is 20,308 feet, and Mount Everest is at 29,029 feet. It didn't matter - for a city-slicker beach bum like me, it was way too high. On the other hand, my hillbilly wife who grew up on mountains, felt right at home.
We got to a section where a ladder was nailed precariously on a cliff. Slipping and falling off that ladder meant certain death. It was then that I asked the question - why am I here? Why am I doing this? A (really) big part of me wanted to turn back right then and there. But my boys had already gone up that ladder without any fear or trepidation. Oh, how sad it is that youth is wasted on the young! I said a prayer, telling God that I really wanted to live to see my grandchildren, and took that first step. With all the courage I could muster, came the second step, the third, and so on, until I slowly and carefully got to the top. I peeked to the left and saw the deep gorge. My head started spinning. Forget 6:00 PM - send the search party for me right now!
I finally caught up with the boys who were waiting for me (apparently forever) at the last ladder that would take us up to the peak. My wife, who was just a few minutes behind me, emerged round the bend, smiling away at the joy of being in a high place of God's creation. I was just trying not to throw up and cry like a toddler having a tantrum.
"It’s the last ladder to the top Dad", said one of my boys. "You can't give up now!"
He was right. I'd rather die at the peak than just a few steps shy. It will be easier for the rescue chopper as well. So up I went again, praying, and not looking down. Once we got to the top, the 360-degree panoramic view was magnificent. But honestly, I was not enjoying it as much. The more I looked around, the dizzier I got. And then there was the whole business of getting back down the mountain. Fear gripped my heart. First for myself, but then worse for my wife and kids. What if one of them fell? What if some other person like me dropped off the ladder and took them with him?
Breathe! Breathe in courage, breathe out fear! God is in charge. You can do it. Your family will be fine.
I looked up and saw my beautiful wife and our boys, laughing, standing tall on the peak, eyes wide with open-mouthed joy, excitedly talking about how amazing it was at the top of the world. That was more beautiful than the view around us. I would climb any mountain to see them joyful.
We snacked on that mountain top - mixed nuts, jerky, and coconut water. I savored every bite. If this was going to be my last meal, might as well enjoy it. My dad-joke superpower was still in high gear as I commented on the "gorge"-eous surroundings; my sons almost laughed. In the back of my mind, though, I was still trying to figure out my return trip. And then came my angel. An experienced hiker who was on the peak with us mentioned that he had traversed these trails a few times and that there was another way down. The Underwood Trail, he said, was longer, but less treacherous. Well, I'd rather take a long hike than a long fall. My older son graciously (albeit reluctantly) came with me, while my wife and younger son decided to take the dangerous, life-threatening, sacrilegious way back. Crazy people!!
The descent was less perilous, but still difficult. Glad we had our Keen hiking boots on, and as they touched the man-made concrete footpath, I let out a big Hallelujah! I had never been more excited to see a parking lot.
So, what did I learn from this ordeal, I mean, pleasurable outdoor activity?
Do it different, do it for love. Sometimes you have to come out of your comfort zone and do things you've never done before in order to achieve something that cannot be achieved using methods familiar to you. Let love be your primary motivator.
Don't give up. Climb that mountain one step, one ladder, one rock, one crawl at a time. Getting to your goal is not always easy, but when you put in the hard (and smart) work, you can definitely achieve what you set out to do. Sometimes God makes a way out, other times, He makes a way through.
Its OK to reach out for help. You are not going to be good at everything, and you can't do it all. We need each others' strengths and expertise to move forward. Just as your strengths complement others' weaknesses, their strengths, will complement your shortcomings as well. Don't hesitate to ask others for assistance, especially from those who have gone before, or have a different mindset that is particularly required to achieve your new objective.
Invest in good hiking boots. If you know what's needed to get the job done, make sure you have the right tools and resources to do it. It will be worth the expense and you won't regret it. This hike would have been very hard with any other shoes.
Next time, we're going to the beach!!!
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