While on vacation this week, my son, Timothy, and I decided to go on a hike. Actually, the hike was pre-planned, but we adjusted it from two nights to one so that he could get back and do some mission stuff with our Student Ministry.
Continuing my section hiking of the Appalachian Trail, we put in at Unicoi Gap on Monday at around 1:20 to begin a 5.5 mile section that would take us to the Tray Mountain Shelter where we would spend the first night. Upon beginning, the heat and humidity was murderous and we were chugging Power-Aid about as fast as we could get it down. About 4 miles in, it began to cloud over as the weather forecast had predicted–60% chance of scattered thunderstorms.
A few minutes later it began to sprinkle. We were in a heavily wooded part of the trail, each side completely lined with Mountain Laurels and a reasonably thick canopy overhead. The rain began to intensify so we found an area that appeared to provide some protection and waited. No such luck.
As we waited, the rain turned in to a deluge of Noahic proportions. After 7 or 8 minutes of waiting under our “protective canopy” we were drenched. Timothy said, “Well, we might as well go ahead and head up the mountain.” Captain Obvious. We started up the hill, hiking up a trail that had already become a stream that engulfed his shoes and my boots, filling them up. We looked like a couple of drowned rats within five more minutes. Our backpacks were soaked as was every single layer of our clothing.
The higher we ascended, the harder the rain became. Thunder was steady and lightening flashed to the left and to the right. I felt not unlike John Muir.
IT WAS GREAT!!
We got to the shelter (thank God we didn’t have to use the tent), found that the clothes inside our packs had not gotten soaked and thus changed into the driest ones we could find, ate and settled into our sleeping bags for the night…at 6:30 pm.
Since we had removed our second night of camping, today (Tuesday) turned into a 10.5 mile hike to our pick up point, Dick’s Creek Gap and GA Hwy 76. We headed out just before 7:45 am for a several hour trek over another pretty tall peak (Kelly’s Knob) which would be the third of the hike. Most of the rest was steadily downhill. For a non-hiker, this sounds like a dream, but if you’ve ever done it you know it isn’t as easy as it sounds.
Downhill hiking, after the first hour or so, feels like being chased down a mountain by the 35 pound back on your back. The constant downhill motion pushes the toes into the front of your shoes/boots continuously and can cause your toenails to actually cut the next toes, and this is also what causes blisters on the heels of your feet. Timothy and I took turns leading and I quickly realized that he had reached the point that he could outpace me if he desired; he’s 16 and I’m 43. At some point in the last 18 months that young cat developed a climbing gear that this old lion doesn’t have.
At the point where we had three miles left it was about 11:30 am. We had just finished a 15 or so minute break of Clif Bars and Gatorade when I said, “Why don’t you go ahead and set your own pace. See how fast you can get to the end and don’t stop to wait for me.” Famous last words.
Within 3 minutes, he was out of sight. Uphill, downhill, uphill and then two miles of downhill. Brutal stuff after walking 7.5 miles already. For me, it was some of the hardest hiking I’ve done. At 2:00 I finally stepped off the trail, weary and ready for some real food. As I crossed the street, he jumped of the tailgate of the truck and said, “I got here at 1:09.” No stinkin’ way. “How do you know,” I asked. I already knew he’d forgotten his watch. “As soon as I walked over here a lady came off the trail on this side and I asked her.” He’d blistered the last three miles of a 10.5 mile hike in 1:39 and beaten me by 51 minutes. I’m a dead man.
It was wonderful to spend that time with him. But I’m not trying to prove myself against his stamina anymore. That’s too embarrassing.
Man against Wild, huh? Did you eat any grubs?
Seriously, that’s pretty cool. Makes me want to take my son out and whip him down the trail. Ok. So he’s six. But your son will remember that for more than just the fact that he beat you.
BTW, is there any way I can get your blog to load in under 30 minutes outside of getting a T1? ;)
Comment by Paul — July 11, 2007 @ 12:39 am
Marty, given my short time on the internet while here in teh Philippines, I haven’t read more than just the title and a little of the post, but I did want to report, given what you are writing about here, about three days in the City of Iligan with my son, Tanner. Just the two of us went with a larger group while my wife and two younger kids stayed in Cagayan de Oro.
While there Tanner shared his testimony with several of the young filipinos. I also was able to do some preaching on the streets and saw dozens accept Jesus as the personal Lord and Savior for the first time. It was an amazing time together as father and son. We have been overwhelmingly blessed here.
Comment by Bryan Riley — July 11, 2007 @ 7:04 am
Paul-
I think it is some of the large photo wallpaper files that I’ve uploaded. I’m going to have to modify some of them.
It does seem, though, to have slowed down some besides that. Must…call…tech…support…
Comment by Marty Duren — July 11, 2007 @ 7:04 am
Bryan-
That is great, great news.
Paul-
Of course, you could leave a tab devoted to this blog and you’ll only have to refresh instead of load each time ;^)
Comment by Marty Duren — July 11, 2007 @ 7:06 am
Marty,
great story!
Comment by irreverend fox — July 11, 2007 @ 7:13 am
This is a great story. An inspiration. I look forward to having such days with my son. But he’s only three right now. By the time he can enjoy, I’ll be on a walker.
Comment by Benjie — July 11, 2007 @ 9:09 am
Marty – I like to run in the local DFW races, anything between 5K and 10K. At the 2007 MLK Day 5K in Arlington I was passed by NUMEROUS middle school aged girls who did not seem to be working very hard. Even though I finished only two seconds off my personal best, I learned a valuable lesson: Youth trumps age and experience!
I’m 42 and have now resigned myself to being listed in the Masters’ Division on race day.
Happy trails!
Robby
Comment by Robby Partain — July 11, 2007 @ 11:15 am
Marty,
I knew you were old! However, I am not far behind (turn 40 in August). I am looking for some things to do with my boys in the shade or the air conditioning? How about some things I can do while sitting in my Lazy Boy with one hand on the remote? Any suggestions?
Comment by Phil W. — July 11, 2007 @ 11:20 am
Bear Grylls would be very proud.
Comment by Jay — July 11, 2007 @ 11:10 pm
Marty, great story. I enjoyed meeting you in SA, and I appreciate your service to the Lord and his kingdom. Blessings to all!
Please say a prayer for a team of us headed to Peru this weekend.
Comment by Patrick Powell — July 12, 2007 @ 11:51 am
Great story marty. rest well in knowing that he will one day be the 43 year old going “huh?”
Comment by Toby — July 12, 2007 @ 12:06 pm
Great story, Marty. My wife and I took our two oldest with us on a mission trip for the first time last week. It was great. They are getting old enough to begin to do things together. Your story was an inspiration.
I used to hike. Gotta get back to that. Gotta get in decent shape as well.
Comment by Alan Cross — July 15, 2007 @ 7:55 am
Nah – that lady’s watch was just needing a new battery.
Oops – that would make it worse, wouldn’t it??
Fabulous news from the Phillipines!
Comment by Steve Austin — July 21, 2007 @ 11:56 am