(all photos above taken in White Oak Canyon, all photos below taken at Big Meadow)
(fog on the drive down the mountain)
Our Fourth of July was so very full in such a good way, that it would take me hours to really tell you all about it.
We met up with another family that has recently moved to Virginia and went hiking in one of our favorite spots, White Oak Canyon.
(I am happy to report that meeting friends online, and then trying things out in person, can be really successful. I never thought I would write something like that, but it’s true! It’s really a very natural process. You read a blog, you feel a connection, you write some emails, talk on the phone a time or two, and then when that “virtual” friend announces that her husband’s job is moving him to your neck of the woods, you say “hooray!” And when you hug each other’s necks for the first time, it feels like you have already known each other for ages. This has happened in my life not once, but twice in the past few months!)
At the end of our hiking day, we parted ways with our friends in the parking lot. It was around 4 p.m. and I was happy, but tired and so ready to head home (about an hour and a half away.) We typically don’t head home until late from our national park adventures and I was glad that we were going to actually make it home in time for dinner this day. I was also anxious to get a juvenile downy woodpecker (that we volunteered to take from another hiker) home and to a wildlife rehabilitator. It was one of those situations where the hiker who picked up the bird should have simply moved it off the trail, but instead she picked it up and carried it all the way down the mountain and then realized she had no idea what to do with it.
As I sat nursing Silas, the boys picked what we learned are wineberries, and Jonny loaded up the van. A hiker approached Jonny with his map of the canyon and (in broken english) asked Jonny to help him understand where on the map he and his three hiking companions were. Jonny pointed to our location, and asked the young man where he began his hike. Evidently he and an elderly man, middle aged woman, and another young man had begun what is an eight mile loop, at the top of the mountain about five miles away, and they were now exhausted. The only way back to their vehicle was to hike back. The return hike is a strenuous 3 miles uphill. We asked the man if they had enough water and food, and he said yes. He asked us if there was a bus back to the top of the mountain, and we explained that there wasn’t, and that it was an hour drive from where we were. He returned to his companions and sat down on the ground next to them. Jonny and I continued to get ready to leave, both I am sure thinking the same thing. A storm was rolling in and we could hear thunder in the distance. Jonny said to me that he just didn’t see how we could leave those four people sitting there, mentioning specifically the elderly man with them. I won’t say I was excited at the prospect of squeezing these people into our van and driving an hour in the opposite direction of home. But in this situation is was easy to forget about that and do what most anyone in our position would have done.
I strapped Silas in his seat and then went to the back of the van to check on the woodpecker before we started driving. When I did so, it flew away. We were really happy about that, and Jonny remarked that the bird’s flight was his sign that we were doing the right thing, taking these strangers back to their car. He walked over and offered the group of hikers a ride, explaining that it would be a tight fit, but we were willing if they were. They didn’t think twice. The four of them squeezed into our back seat, thanking us profusely and we headed to the parking lot where they had left their vehicle.
During that hour long drive up curvy mountain roads my family spoke amongst itself in our language, and our guests in the back spoke to each other in theirs. When we finally arrived at their vehicle, they exited our van, so relieved to be back at their vehicle. It had rained almost the entire time we were driving. The elderly man in the group looked at Jonny who had gotten out to say goodbye, and said, “I will never forget you.” Then one of the younger men asked Jonny if we were heading on up the mountain and Jonny explained that we lived back in the direction we had come from. At this point all four people understood that we had gone out of our way to help them. I thought they would burst into tears. The looks on their faces were so priceless. Jonny got back in the van and we turned around and sat waiting for traffic to clear so we could pull back on the road. When we looked back, those four strangers whom we will never forget were standing in a line waving at us with smiles on their faces. Now who do you think received the greater gift that day? It is making me cry just to write this. It truly is always better to give than to receive. We were so blessed this day.
Since we were already so close, we decided to drive on to Big Meadow one of our favorite places in the world. It was cold and rainy and getting late, but we spent a little time there, letting the kids run around. Then we drove back down the mountain in a thick fog, and got home just in time for my kids, who had missed seeing any fireworks, to see our neighbor setting his off.
So, I am guessing that we will never again have such a special Fourth of July. New friends, strangers that we were profoundly connected to if only for a short time, and a beautiful day spent in our favorite places.
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