We parked in the Ralph's parking lot at University Town Center, (where IHop is) walked across the street in front of a busy Strawberry Hill, and hit the bike path. As we walked down the path, dodging cyclists, and paralleling barbed wire fence, I suddenly felt the vulnerablness those who have not prepared adequately for a trip feel. How do we get in there? We decided to keep walking while my husband looked for the Nature Center phone number for instructions on how to enter. We could see trails, yet were seperated by barbed wire. We kept walking when we found a little path right by the large sign advertising new homes. There the barbed wire fence turned into one that wasn't, and we climbed through.
It was surprising how tentative going into the "wilderness" was. We are next to Jeffrey Blvd., cars whizzing by. We would never be out of sight of Jeffrey. We had cell phones, a backpack with water, good shoes, sunblock and hats. And yet we hesitated. Muir said, "I went out for a walk, and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in." What would we find going "in"? What were we afraid of? Presently, it was snakes, so the boys each took a stick to hack at the grass. Mustering our guts while singing the theme song to Indiana Jones, we all ran into the "wilderness." We felt exhilerated because we were, well, just there.
It's soothing leaving the roar of Jeffrey and watching the cars get smaller and quieter as we ascended the hill. We laughed, we joked, the boys fought over sticks, we went off the beaten path and when we reached the top of the hill , looking out over Irvine, my seven year old spontaneously raised his hands and yelled, "Thank you God!" At that moment , I believe God could not have been more pleased . The pinnacle of His creation looked out upon His landscape and pronounced, "It is good". Just as I am pleased when my kids are proud of me for something I do. I believe God is pleased when we express gratitude to him for what He does. Now I know what John Muir meant regarding "glad tidings".
Giddy from our "mountaintop" experience we decided to climb the other hill which had a rocky top. Our trek gave us many surprises like a wild patch of ghourds, wildflowers, cougar tracks, and colors that rival the autumn leaves back east. This hill was a little more challenging as the chapparelle scraped our naked legs, but we were undettered. As we reached the summit, perched precariously on rocks, the boys decided to fight each other. The rocks were the kind they could easily lose their their balance, fall off and basically die. It was a great time to discuss self control and wilderness safety.
I found a geologocial survey marker and while turning excitedly to show the others, I was just in time to watch my daughter lose her balance while using her cell phone. She slipped and gashed her leg on a rock. "Natures peace" was eluding us at that moment (note: rock climbing and texting at the same time can be hazardous.) While she's yelling expletives and crying, a fellow sojourner happened to appear on the top of the hill with us. I wondered if she was a Good Samaritan hearing distress and raced up the hill to help, or an incognito park ranger doing the same thing. We felt compelled to explain our daughters injury to illustrate why our normally sweet girl is spewing expletives all over the valley, but the only thing she was interested in was finding another way down the hill. So much for my romantic notions of a Good Samaritain.
I quickly wrapped my daughter's leg with my sweatshirt (note: take first aid kit on next hike) and negotiated another less rocky way down the hill. Following a path that eventually led us back to our barbed wire fence, we saw a family in the distance walking down the sidewalk. They saw us on the hill as they were driving and were inspired to "climb the mountain and get their glad tidings" too. We met at the fence, gave them tips on how to get in and they generously held up the barbed wire fence while we wriggled under it like army commandos. We bid them happy adventures as we entered civilization again, refreshed. and thrilled with our day. We drove down the street and promptly rewarded ourselves with milkshakes and iced coffees from the nearby McDonalds.
Muir was right, peace did flow into us like sunshine, and for a couple of hours , even with the boys fighting and my daughters gashed leg, our cares dropped like autumn leaves. Going out into nature really is "going in". Into a place where nature surprises at every turn and wonder can make "cares fall off like autumn leaves". Just like John Muir said.
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