Lessons on the trail
There were a few clouds in the sky and when they were able to muster up the energy they threatened rain, but mostly the threats were those of a weary father with little intent to see them through. We were hiking Old Rag in the Shenandoah Valley. My father was not along, but I’m sure he would have enjoyed it. The previous day’s plans had all gone up in flat tires and rain, but a cool breeze sliced the solstice and made Sunday plans look better than advertised.

Previous experience would serve to remind us of several lessons on the brochure-worthy day hike. Getting started is difficult was the first. For a mile or so our hike was spent in a trudging, heavy-breathing, fitness-questioning state. Then, as if our bodies had recognized the futility of fighting on into the nine o’clock hour, hiking became walking in the woods and the early trudge became nature on an incline with rocky footing.

When bike riding faded from view on Saturday, Alan’s gym served up a cardio substitute that had my calves and hamstrings burning. For much of the uphill walk, this was a minor annoyance, but when the scrambling started, my legs gave a little shout with each push off and landing. Even with the pain, I enjoyed scrambling the most. There is satisfaction in making your own way. Scrambling is exercise with puzzle-solving mixed in. There’s no definite trail. Each person looks at the rocks and the gaps and thinks about his/her physical strengths and limitations and then makes a path. It may be a path that many have traveled before, but the rocks don’t show much wear and it feels like blazing a new trail. There are tenuous grasps on hand and footholds and there are slippery sections. There are gaps that look too large to leap and others that seem to have well-shaped launching and landing pads. I find great pleasure in scrambling.

In the section that had challenged us the most last year, we came upon a father and daughter trying to navigate the tricky rocks. We waited for them to find their hold, but they weren’t keen on having an audience and helped us pass. Experience breeds confidence. The section was unchanged as far as we could tell, but instead of struggling for fifteen minutes as the father and daughter must have, we were up in two. It still took some pulling and struggling, but we’d been there before and we attacked with little doubt that we would succeed.

This section and another gap that I jumped reminded me that hesitancy can’t always be the policy. It was only by swinging my leg through and using my momentum that I was able to find my next handhold. If I’d tried to play it safe or creep up to the spot where I could get a grip, I would have slipped and fallen far short of it. Of all the lessons, this was the one that I sensed could be most relevant right now.

The last lesson was the most delicious and needs no explanation. On the way home, stop and eat ice cream.