Jasmine roughing it at the bottom of the trail.
Self Portraits never turn out as amazing as I imagine them to be. This is me in front of one of the waterfalls at the bottom of the trail just as "sweat fest" kicks in.
One of my favorite spots on the way up
Another favorite near the top
The kids on the hike with Patty
The amazing...Hanging LakeI remember my very first hike in the Rockies with an amazing amount of detail. It was a fairly difficult hike at the time and I remember feeling like I had found the top of the world when I finally made it to the top. There was a gigantic green lake with two waterfalls flowing into it that seemed like a scene from a movie. I was with two other stinky boys at the time, so I remember playing in the water and dreaming that I was a mermaid princess living in a magical land while they annoyingly duked it out with swords and grenades off to the side. I remember a tree had fallen into the lake and I pretended that it was my bridge to the other side of the world. I've always held that picture in my head and I was anxious to return to show it to my own kids.
The magic was a bit different this time around but it was a day I'll remember for a long time. We got to the bottom of the trail and discovered that we could not bring Jasmine with us so I started out enjoying a spot in a shady waterfall at the bottom while Jasmine explored around us. I was sad not to go up but honestly very happy camping out where I was. Mom hiked part way with the kids and then had an attack of the guilty conscience and came back down to get me. She left the kids with "Ms. Patty" who is a wonderful woman blessed with the patience needed to get through a tough hike with my kids.
I started up the trail on a mission to catch them and I immediately started the sweat fest and the heavy breathing that comes with high altitude. I was a bit embarrassed by my condition given that I had recently run a marathon and it didn't help that my young kids were miles ahead of me! I took some deep breaths, kept going, and relaxed to the sound of the waterfalls winding through the trail. I expected to run into the kids about halfway up, but I never did. I knew they were in good hands, so I sat back and enjoyed the hike. It was a full hour of peace in my childhood mountains all to myself and I enjoyed every second of it. I would have liked to share it with them, but I have to admit that it might have been tainted with periodic rantings of "get your hands off your sister!" and "yes...you do have to keep going or I'll feed you to the wolves" had it turned out the way I had planned.
When I reached the top, there they were, sitting quietly on a rock enjoying a snack. The lake was just as I had remembered and I knew why my brain has refused to let go of the experience after all of these years. It was nature, pure and simple. It was beautiful. I know that my kids did not have the same experience I did, but sometimes that's OK. It's still my lake, my memory, my peace, and my story. From time to time, a mom has to remember her own childhood and embrace the experiences that shaped her in order to be a better mom in the end. My kids will likely remember this day because they got to hike with a new friend and they'll remember the beauty when I prompt them mercilessly. For me, it was a lesson. My kids will always love me and I will always love them, but we might not always have the same journey, stories, or dreams, and in the end that's maybe just the way it's supposed to be.
The magic was a bit different this time around but it was a day I'll remember for a long time. We got to the bottom of the trail and discovered that we could not bring Jasmine with us so I started out enjoying a spot in a shady waterfall at the bottom while Jasmine explored around us. I was sad not to go up but honestly very happy camping out where I was. Mom hiked part way with the kids and then had an attack of the guilty conscience and came back down to get me. She left the kids with "Ms. Patty" who is a wonderful woman blessed with the patience needed to get through a tough hike with my kids.
I started up the trail on a mission to catch them and I immediately started the sweat fest and the heavy breathing that comes with high altitude. I was a bit embarrassed by my condition given that I had recently run a marathon and it didn't help that my young kids were miles ahead of me! I took some deep breaths, kept going, and relaxed to the sound of the waterfalls winding through the trail. I expected to run into the kids about halfway up, but I never did. I knew they were in good hands, so I sat back and enjoyed the hike. It was a full hour of peace in my childhood mountains all to myself and I enjoyed every second of it. I would have liked to share it with them, but I have to admit that it might have been tainted with periodic rantings of "get your hands off your sister!" and "yes...you do have to keep going or I'll feed you to the wolves" had it turned out the way I had planned.
When I reached the top, there they were, sitting quietly on a rock enjoying a snack. The lake was just as I had remembered and I knew why my brain has refused to let go of the experience after all of these years. It was nature, pure and simple. It was beautiful. I know that my kids did not have the same experience I did, but sometimes that's OK. It's still my lake, my memory, my peace, and my story. From time to time, a mom has to remember her own childhood and embrace the experiences that shaped her in order to be a better mom in the end. My kids will likely remember this day because they got to hike with a new friend and they'll remember the beauty when I prompt them mercilessly. For me, it was a lesson. My kids will always love me and I will always love them, but we might not always have the same journey, stories, or dreams, and in the end that's maybe just the way it's supposed to be.
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