I'm No Expert - Seven Times
Well...I thought about writing something profound, but I haven't been feeling too profound lately. God has been giving me plenty of great life-lessons lately, don't get me wrong, but one of the biggest lessons is that I'm not an expert. I think He just decided to take away that gift that I was born with--the gift of knowing it all--or at least good at acting like it sometimes. But apparently, even though I'm quite aware of my absent inner-expert, I'm still unconsciously fooling the world. Sigh.
Last weekend I decided to check out Sugarloaf Mountain, a little state park not too far away. Part of what I love about discovering new places is that I have no idea what's ahead, and it gives me a little bit of an adventure-high. It's just never the same the second time I go somewhere. But what was new this time was running into so many other people living the first-time-adventure at the same time as me. But that is what made this first encounter with Sugarloaf Mountain so charming.
It all started when my GPS seemed to drop me off at the base of the mountain in a very small and full parking lot. Looking back, I think the GPS was actually trying to tell me something else, but I was talking on the phone at the same time, and people were behind me, so I just took the path of least resistance--another little road to the right. It looked cute--narrow, kind of gravely. Seemed like something that would lead to a small state park with some hikes and views. But after a little while, I realized the road didn't seem to be heading uphill, so I felt like I should check the map on my GPS. I pulled over, still talking to my mom on the phone. (Maybe that's a lesson in itself: multi-tasking can slow your progress to your goal...) Anyway, that's when the lady behind me pulled up next to me, with a car-full of teenage girls.
"We're looking for a place to hike. Do you know what's up here?" the lady behind the wheel asked. I smiled and told her I was just trying to figure out where I was. We shared our guesses for a little longer before she pulled ahead...and the car behind her stopped next to me. An older gentleman and his wife rolled down their window and asked if I knew where they could hike in this area. I gave him the same apologetic answer, and joked with my mom on the phone that everybody around here was lost.
We all ended up turning around, but I guess I was a little behind them, because they were nowhere in sight when I pulled back into the tiny, crowded parking lot. I spotted a vacant space to park my car, even as I drove past the mysterious road, with the open gate, that led up the mountain. Maybe I could just drive up the mountain on that road...? But no, it seemed like everybody was parking down here, and I didn't see anyone driving up it. So I parked, still talking on the phone, and was once again interrupted as a big SUV came pulling into the parking lot. A lady jumped out and walked over to me, even though I was still in my car. I opened my door and stepped out.
"My GPS says there's seven more minutes, but it seems like everyone is parking down here. Do you know if we can take that road?" Good grief, they were reading my mind!
"You know, that's exactly what I was wondering. I haven't seen anyone drive in, so I just figured I'm supposed to park down here and walk up. I can pull my car over a little more and I think you're car will fit next to mine if you want."
So they squeezed in next to me, and we chatted a little more about our ignorance as we started up the hill, before I attempted to continue my phone conversation. About that time, however, the first lady (without her teenagers) was walking down the road toward us, and told us that we were actually supposed to drive up the mountain, because it was quite a ways to walk. We all shared a nice bonding moment of humor as we returned gratefully to our cars.
At the top of the mountain, I was barely 50 feet from my car, day-pack freshly positioned on my back, when a grandfather with his grandson (or that was my guess) stopped me and asked if I knew where the Blue Trail was. Heck, I didn't even know there was a Blue Trail yet! In fact, I was just starting to wonder how to find a trail. I apologized to Grandpa and told him it was my first time here (and apologized to my mom again on the phone), and continued wandering on my way in peace, with no more questions for a little while.
After resting a bit near an overlook and finishing my phone conversation, I found a map and started up a legit trail. Sure enough: Orange Trail, Red Trail, Green Trail, Blue Trail. (I guess it makes it easy to mark the trails.) I picked one and hiked up toward the summit, past some boulder cliffs decorated with rock climbers (which reminded me of Chattanooga and Signal Mountain), and eventually conquered a decent series of stone steps. Still catching my breath, I looked around and started making guesses as to where the trail went next. Just then, a group of three came by and asked if the trail I had come from led to a parking lot. Finally! A question I could answer confidently! I told them it did, although it was a different one than what they were looking for, but they were satisfied to at least head toward a road, I think. Apparently the trail they were just on (which was one option I was considering) was a trail to nowhere. So I went the other way...and found the summit!
The rest of the hike was fairly uneventful, other than the amazing view at the summit and some good thinking/praying time. But heading down the other side of the summit, toward the end of the trail, there was a really steep area. A wary family at the bottom asked how bad it was, and how long until the trail got better. Thankfully, I was able to answer that one as well, since I'd just conquered it coming down.
Finishing my hike with a quick look at the "East View," I headed back to my car nearby. As I was pulling my keys out of my daypack, nearing my car, a mini-van rolled up with a friendly Indian family asking if I knew how to get down the mountain. I had to laugh again, as I noticed that indeed, the road I had come up was marked with a "Do Not Enter" sign. It was a one-way road.
"Uh...well...I think it might be that way, if you go by the "West View" parking lot, but I don't really know. I'll be figuring it out with you!"
Even as I said those words--"I'll be figuring it out with you!"--they sunk into my mind and heart as if they meant something deeper that I might get later if I had time to think about it. I did think about it. All the way home, and throughout the week. As I said, I'm not an expert, so I don't know that I've got it all, but I think learned a few things:
Last weekend I decided to check out Sugarloaf Mountain, a little state park not too far away. Part of what I love about discovering new places is that I have no idea what's ahead, and it gives me a little bit of an adventure-high. It's just never the same the second time I go somewhere. But what was new this time was running into so many other people living the first-time-adventure at the same time as me. But that is what made this first encounter with Sugarloaf Mountain so charming.
It all started when my GPS seemed to drop me off at the base of the mountain in a very small and full parking lot. Looking back, I think the GPS was actually trying to tell me something else, but I was talking on the phone at the same time, and people were behind me, so I just took the path of least resistance--another little road to the right. It looked cute--narrow, kind of gravely. Seemed like something that would lead to a small state park with some hikes and views. But after a little while, I realized the road didn't seem to be heading uphill, so I felt like I should check the map on my GPS. I pulled over, still talking to my mom on the phone. (Maybe that's a lesson in itself: multi-tasking can slow your progress to your goal...) Anyway, that's when the lady behind me pulled up next to me, with a car-full of teenage girls.
"We're looking for a place to hike. Do you know what's up here?" the lady behind the wheel asked. I smiled and told her I was just trying to figure out where I was. We shared our guesses for a little longer before she pulled ahead...and the car behind her stopped next to me. An older gentleman and his wife rolled down their window and asked if I knew where they could hike in this area. I gave him the same apologetic answer, and joked with my mom on the phone that everybody around here was lost.
We all ended up turning around, but I guess I was a little behind them, because they were nowhere in sight when I pulled back into the tiny, crowded parking lot. I spotted a vacant space to park my car, even as I drove past the mysterious road, with the open gate, that led up the mountain. Maybe I could just drive up the mountain on that road...? But no, it seemed like everybody was parking down here, and I didn't see anyone driving up it. So I parked, still talking on the phone, and was once again interrupted as a big SUV came pulling into the parking lot. A lady jumped out and walked over to me, even though I was still in my car. I opened my door and stepped out.
"My GPS says there's seven more minutes, but it seems like everyone is parking down here. Do you know if we can take that road?" Good grief, they were reading my mind!
"You know, that's exactly what I was wondering. I haven't seen anyone drive in, so I just figured I'm supposed to park down here and walk up. I can pull my car over a little more and I think you're car will fit next to mine if you want."
So they squeezed in next to me, and we chatted a little more about our ignorance as we started up the hill, before I attempted to continue my phone conversation. About that time, however, the first lady (without her teenagers) was walking down the road toward us, and told us that we were actually supposed to drive up the mountain, because it was quite a ways to walk. We all shared a nice bonding moment of humor as we returned gratefully to our cars.
At the top of the mountain, I was barely 50 feet from my car, day-pack freshly positioned on my back, when a grandfather with his grandson (or that was my guess) stopped me and asked if I knew where the Blue Trail was. Heck, I didn't even know there was a Blue Trail yet! In fact, I was just starting to wonder how to find a trail. I apologized to Grandpa and told him it was my first time here (and apologized to my mom again on the phone), and continued wandering on my way in peace, with no more questions for a little while.
After resting a bit near an overlook and finishing my phone conversation, I found a map and started up a legit trail. Sure enough: Orange Trail, Red Trail, Green Trail, Blue Trail. (I guess it makes it easy to mark the trails.) I picked one and hiked up toward the summit, past some boulder cliffs decorated with rock climbers (which reminded me of Chattanooga and Signal Mountain), and eventually conquered a decent series of stone steps. Still catching my breath, I looked around and started making guesses as to where the trail went next. Just then, a group of three came by and asked if the trail I had come from led to a parking lot. Finally! A question I could answer confidently! I told them it did, although it was a different one than what they were looking for, but they were satisfied to at least head toward a road, I think. Apparently the trail they were just on (which was one option I was considering) was a trail to nowhere. So I went the other way...and found the summit!
The rest of the hike was fairly uneventful, other than the amazing view at the summit and some good thinking/praying time. But heading down the other side of the summit, toward the end of the trail, there was a really steep area. A wary family at the bottom asked how bad it was, and how long until the trail got better. Thankfully, I was able to answer that one as well, since I'd just conquered it coming down.
Finishing my hike with a quick look at the "East View," I headed back to my car nearby. As I was pulling my keys out of my daypack, nearing my car, a mini-van rolled up with a friendly Indian family asking if I knew how to get down the mountain. I had to laugh again, as I noticed that indeed, the road I had come up was marked with a "Do Not Enter" sign. It was a one-way road.
"Uh...well...I think it might be that way, if you go by the "West View" parking lot, but I don't really know. I'll be figuring it out with you!"
Even as I said those words--"I'll be figuring it out with you!"--they sunk into my mind and heart as if they meant something deeper that I might get later if I had time to think about it. I did think about it. All the way home, and throughout the week. As I said, I'm not an expert, so I don't know that I've got it all, but I think learned a few things:
- Sometimes it's nice when there are no "experts" around to spoil the mystery and adventure.
- Sometimes we connect better with each other when we can all admit we're a bit lost and need a some help finding our way.
- Sometimes offering what little we know is actually helpful, even if we don't feel like we know enough.
- Sometimes when we're unsure of where we are going, just knowing that we're not alone gives us courage.
- Sometimes, for whatever reason, other people think we know what we're doing. It's always ok to admit that we don't, but to offer whatever we can with a humble spirit, even if it's just the assurance that "I'll be figuring it out with you!"
"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." Luke 19:10 (NLT)
I'm glad we are figuring this out together.
ReplyDeleteMe too.
DeleteBut you are an expert...at least in talking on the phone with your mom! :) Good lesson!
ReplyDeleteI'm not an expert at talking to Mom in the phone while arriving at an unexplored state park apparently. :)
Delete