The Hike

At the intersection, I could take a right and go home, but left would take me down the road to an unknown trail in the woods. Today, I decided to go left. Home meant sitting down at the kitchen table to do homework, and for some reason I was just not in the mood. The scent of fresh flowers pervaded the air, and the spring sunshine made everything feel more alive. It made me feel more alive.

I pedaled my bike faster, eager to head towards adventure. It had been forever and a day since I had ventured into the woods, and usually I just sauntered through the trees with my handy compass, just in case I lost my sense of direction. Hiking a trail would be different, since there would be no way to get turned around and get hopelessly lost. Exploring the trail had been on my list of things to do, but I had never made the time to do it.

My bike coasted down the final hill before reaching the entrance to the trail head. I enjoyed the feeling of freedom as the bike accelerated to a maximum speed, putting on the brake slowly, and finally coming to a stop.

On my back, I was wearing my trusty knapsack. It had a few handy items such as a flashlight, a rope, some snacks, and a bottle of water. My cellphone was at home, so this would be the perfect excursion to an unknown place. Well, unknown to me at least. My compass was attached to my belt loop, and I pulled it out to look at it, just to verify that I had it. On another belt loop, I had hooked my digital watch. A quick glance told me that the time was four p.m. Perfect. I had at least three hours for exploration.

I hid my bike in the bushes that lined the entrance to the trail. No need to come back to find it gone. Home was about nine miles from here, and there was no way that I could call my mom to come and get me if it got stolen. Taking a deep breath, I took my first steps into the woods. The first thing that came to mind was the scene from Lord of the Rings where Gandalf sends Frodo and Sam away from the shire to protect them from the Nazgul who are hunting for the one ring. A bit dramatic, don’t you think? Well of course it is, but then again, I am a romantic at heart.

The air was dense in the woods. As I got further in, there was a deep sense of quiet. The only sound I could hear was the sound of my shoes crunching the leaves and sticks under my feet. Navigating the path was easy for the first half hour or so. I estimated that I had traveled a couple of miles at least. Then, the trail began to ascend upwards. I looked around for a large stick to offer some support in case I needed to climb over any rocks or slick spots on my ascent. Finding one was no trouble. I was in the woods, after all.

The sun beat down on me as I climbed slowly to the top. There was still a trail, but the way was a bit treacherous as I eased my way around rocks that dotted the hillside. My heart rate had increased, and I had broken out into a sweat. Finally, I reached the top. As I crested the hill, I was taken aback by the vision before me. It was now five o’clock and the sunlight kissed the tall grass, bathing it in an orange glow.

I walked into the open space and opened my arms, spinning around in a circle. This space seemed sacred, and the celebratory dance seemed appropriate. In the center of the open area were the remains of a ruined chapel. Most of the walls were gone, but some of the crumbling stones remained. I walked towards it and sat my knapsack down on the ground.

This was an odd place to have a chapel. I wondered if there had once been people living in community where the trees now stood. It was certainly possible. Maybe with a little research, I could figure it out. I looked back across the space and saw a stone angel smiling sweetly in my direction. Moss and lichens grew over the surface of the angel, so it was easy to miss when I first entered the area.

“Hello, there,” said a voice behind me.

I turned around to see who had spoken to me. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair and olive skin.

“Hi there!”, I said. “Sorry, I didn’t expect to see anyone else out here. My name is Steven.”

“Hi, Steven. The name is Michael,” he said, extending his hand.

As we stood there exchanging pleasantries, my stomach grumbled, reminding me that I was hungry.

“Say, I have some snacks in my backpack. Would you care to join me for a light meal while we continue to talk?”, I asked him.

“That sounds great!”, he said, accepting my invitation.

We sat down on the open grass and shared our food. Michael even had a canteen of juice that we shared to slake our thirst. As we talked, I looked again at the walls of the ruined chapel.

“You know, my dad was always a church go-er,” I said. I went to church every Sunday with my parents. Haven’t been back since my dad passed away.”

“Really?”, Michael asked. “I would think that would be one place that you could find comfort and solace. Maybe you should try going back.”

“Maybe,” I said, ruminating a little.

I looked again at the crumbling walls around me. If, as the expression goes, these walls could talk. I wonder what they would tell me. I would probably hear hymns or smell the smell of incense as it rose to the sky. For a moment, it was almost as if I could see and hear those things. I had been raised a Baptist but had investigated Catholicism before deciding that church was no longer my thing.

I turned to tell Michael about what I was thinking, but he was no longer sitting beside me.

“Michael?”, I said turning around to see if he was still anywhere in the area. I didn’t see him if he was.

I thought of the story in the Bible where the disciples were in the upper room, and Jesus appears to them after his resurrection. Then, without warning he disappears again. My conversation with Michael and the sacredness of this space had opened my heart again to a connection with the divine. I took one last look around, and without thinking, crossed myself as if I were a devout Catholic leaving church at the end of mass.

As I made my way down the trail to where my bike would be waiting for me, I began to sing. I heard the voice of Jesus say come unto me and rest. Lay down oh weary one lay down your head upon my breast…

As I reached the end of the trail, I found my bike and turned it towards home. I pedaled and picked up speed, smiling as I thought about my sacred encounter in the woods.