On July 16, 2014, I took to the trails with the simple intent of getting exercise. As I began walking, a symbolic turn began to evolve. I decided that I would use the crest of the mountain to be my cliff to relinquish all that had been my 43rd year. While there are positives to be gathered, overall, it was a remarkably difficult, emotionally draining year. Unbeknownst to me at that time, this became a journey sprinkled with wonder and messages.
Prior to my hike, I had made a stop and considered buying an armband to hold my phone and key. Being a cheap-ass, I decided against it, choosing instead to tie the key to my shoe. I had done this before, and I was confident it would be just fine. My feeling was if my shoe untied, I would know the key no longer in place. I kept an eye on the way up, just to ensure it was held securely. The walk was beautiful. The time was about 7:30pm, and I don't think I could have placed an order for more perfect weather. The sun was shining, but beginning to shift in preparation of setting. There was a gentle breeze. The temperature was in the low 80s with no humidity to note. I couldn't have asked for better conditions. I received a call as I parked. It was from someone who generally doesn't call, and I definitely was not expecting this at this time. A nice surprise. I also found this call to open a window of emotion that I didn't anticipate. That came later.
The hike up the trail led me through a fairy village, Girl Scout style. I loved it, as they had left behind their creations, and invited others to share in building their little area. I smiled as I walked through and observed their efforts at creating a land of mystery. Very sweet little detour. From there, I passed a number of other hikers. There is a kind nature about hikers. They tend to be friendly in a passing sort of way. It's nice.
As I began to reach the peak, I was taken by a surge of emotion I did not expect. I was genuinely overwhelmed as I sat on one of the Indian Seats and looked out at the horizon. The sun was beginning to soften, yet was blaringly bright. As I sat, the emotions that took hold did not identify themselves, and to this minute, I cannot put concrete terms to what they represented. But they were ready to leave. I cried. Hard. Snot and tears were pouring down my face. To sum it best, it was a sort of cleansing that left me feeling strong and at peace. The reaction was profound and unanticipated. My emotions tend to be pretty raw and at the surface, but these came from somewhere so deep that I was a bit unnerved. I am so grateful to have had that moment, and to have embraced it rather than try and pretend it didn't exist. The ladies next to me, however, must have felt differently, because they left. Oops.
I spent maybe 10 minutes at the top, but knew dusk would be settling in soon. I started my trek back down the path. I had been thinking for some time about starting to run. I figured with gravity on my side, and short patches of smooth, flat ground, this was as good a time as any. As I started toward my first "burst," I passed a man and woman. As I stepped by, I started off with a runner's gait...and swiftly tripped. I did not fall, but it was certainly comical in my world, as well as typical. They asked if I was okay, and I laughed and said yes. I was off.
When I reached what I now refer to as my bench of peace (close to the trailhead,) I realized I had to pee in the worst possible way. Good news! I was very near the fairy village! So, off I went to have a most satisfying experience in the fairy village. I appreciated using their facilities:) And there is a certain peculiar giddiness that comes with peeing in the woods, so I felt a little burst of energy. Because I was getting close to the trailhead, I reached to take the key off my shoe. To my surprise, the key was gone. Now, it bears repeating that my whole confidence of using this key holder was if my shoe untied, I would know the key was gone. That is where the mystery begins. I don't know that the mystery will ever find an earthly, end. You see, my shoe had not untied. It was still as tied as when I started. And the key ring was not a flimsy one. It was one that would not randomly work its way off and disappear. And I know with certainty I had the key when I began to trek down. I made sure. Just in case. And it was there. And now, my real experience began.
I had only one option at this point. I had to make my way back up the mountain to see if I could find the key. If I was lucky, I could find it and get out before dark. I wasn't lucky...at least in that sense. Instead, this is how the remainder of the evening went...
I encounter a couple, a man, and two women as I started back up the trail:
The couple was very kind. The man asked if I needed a ride (I didn't), and the lady respectfully asked if she could pray for me to find the key (I accepted.) When she concluded her prayer, she looked at me and said with confidence that I needn't worry. I would find the key.
Next came a man, probably in his late 50s or early 60s. He was running...not in the way I would have been, but for-real running. I asked if he had found a key, by chance. By the time the sentence was out of my mouth, he was pretty far past where I stood. He came back and said he would run (not kidding. He just finished his run and he was off again) up the trail to see if he could find it. And he meant it. He asked what he would see, and I described the key, ring, and the little swippy things like you use at CVS and other stores. I wouldn't see him for some time.
Finally came the women. One didn't speak, but the other said she (the silent one) had lost her key before and it was HORRIBLE! Just the worst thing! (She was very emphatic about this being awful.) She said they got the keys back, but not for two days. She also said if she found them, she would put them on the bench.
For these five people, I was very grateful. The runner guy came back without the key. He let me know how far he had gone (I kept going, as there was much more distance to cover.) By this point, it was dusk and I was using the light on my phone. He said if he passed it on the way out, he would put it under my windshield, and he would let the ranger know I was up there. I thanked him profusely. He went on his way, and I on mine.
From the moment I knew the key was missing, I felt nothing but calm. I did not have a sense of worry, fear, anxiety. Nothing. Just calm. It was an adventure with the adreneline. I continued up the trail until I was about 1/3 of a mile to the top. I realized my battery was draining, and I would be in a world of trouble if my phone died. So, I turned around without my key. I called for Pam to pick me up, and let her know my phone might die. I figured at worst, I would have Pam bring me back early in the morning, and I would start the hike again. I walked the trail back in darkness, except for the light from my phone. I felt no urgency or distress. In fact, at one point, I was thinking how I hadn't even seen any animals...not even a squirrel! I did realize there could be coyote, but everything seemed still. Right at that moment, I hear a short but definite howl. I'm not kidding. But I wasn't scared. I actually laughed, as if to acknowledge I knew they were out there, but thanks for the reminder.
With another mile plus to go, I heard a man's voice calling out. I could not understand the words, and if they were not knowingly directed at me, I did not feel it necessary to advertise myself. So, I kept walking. Soon thereafter, I saw what I thought was Pam's car lights in the distance. I smiled at being able to see them. Then I laughed because I realized there was no logistically possible way it was Pam. I called out, "Hello?" I figured at this point I better let it be known I wasn't afraid to confront whoever might be there. The response was that he thought I was who he was looking for. I asked, "Do you have a car key?" To which, he replied, "Yes."
And now, the rest of the crazy story. The man with my key was the ranger. I asked if the man in red had found it. He said he had. This man, whose name I know only to be Chris (he didn't want this to be a deal, so preferred to be anonymous), had gone to ranger with my key and told him I was up on the trail. He was in town from Pennsylvania on business and happened to find the mountain, which suited his running needs. He wasn't in town for long. The key was down the trail, where I had not been since last knowing it was on my shoe. In addition, the second lady also stopped to tell the ranger about me. She told him that she said she would leave the key on the bench, but she was worried a crow would pick it up (???--A crow??) He told me that was funny to him, because his (ranger) last name is Crow. At that point, I needed to go. The number of crazy details to sort out had hit a max. Let me just say, I am SO grateful to each of these people, and deeply appreciative for their interest. And to the universe, who issued me such a deep and amazing kiss-off to 43? Nice job. I liked it. :)
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