Friday, June 13, 2008
Page 15
AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)
Final Wish Brings Out Sense of Adventure
By J’AMY PACHECO
As I’ve mentioned here previously, I’m not exactly an outdoorsy kind of girl. I find tent camping to be rather uncomfortable, and, unlike famed (and deceased, I might point out) outdoorsman Euell Gibbons, I’ve never been tempted to try eating a pine tree, no matter how many parts of them are edible.
So it was with some trepidation that I traveled north with my family on a recent weekend to fulfill my stepfather’s final wish — to have his ashes scattered among the giant sequoias.
It was a reunion of sorts for us, attracting stepbrothers that I haven’t seen for years. We all brought our children, and our group managed to fill nearly every room at the mountain lodge we chose.
My first experience with the Sequoia National Forest took place when we made a late-night trek up the winding mountain road, rising thousands (millions, possibly) of feet in elevation as we navigated hairpin turns with no guardrails and incredibly scary drops. Our lodge was a welcome sight.
Greeting one of my brothers in the dimly-lit parking lot, I noticed something glowing at the edge of the pavement. Based upon the warning fliers sent with our hotel documents, I thought it was a bear. He thought it was my imagination.
It was neither, and we were all surprised when two deer hesitantly stepped briefly into the light. It was a lovely welcome.
After an informal service in the woods the next morning, seven of us decided to hike to a waterfall that our map said was located 1.7 miles from the trailhead. Although my daughter and I wore Skechers instead of hiking boots, we thought it sounded like an easy adventure.
An hour and a half later, having forded three streams, climbed over jagged rocks and walked along cliff edges overhanging whitewater, I started to wonder what we’d gotten ourselves into. But since people on the trail kept telling us “it’s worth it!” we kept going another half hour until we finally reached a breathtaking sight: a stunning, thundering waterfall that couldn’t be done justice with a picture, or the 1,000 words a photo is supposed to be worth. After a round trip of three and a half hours, we staggered out of the woods like the walking dead.
At dinner, we figured out we’d been duped, and that the trail was actually 14 miles in, 17 miles out and uphill both ways. I still believe that.
At breakfast the next day, we saw a bear, and five idiots. As the breakfast crowd lined up along the lodge’s window to watch the bear, we noticed five men trying to sneak up on it with food. Fortunately, the bear had the good sense to run away. We never did figure out where the men went, but if they hiked to the falls, I’m guessing the marmots we saw up there got them.
On our way out Sunday, we decided it would be crazy to drive all the way to the sequoias without visiting the largest tree in the world, dubbed “The Sherman Tree.” After a quick drive from our lodge, we piled out of the car and took a short (thankfully) hike to the tree.
While we waited for the rest of our party to catch up, I photographed the enormous tree. I had strangers take pictures of my husband, daughter and myself in front of it. All told, we probably took about 30 pictures involving the tree behind the “World’s Biggest Tree” sign. But my daughter commented that other trees nearby looked bigger.
When the rest of our party arrived, we showed them the tree. I mentioned that it seemed impossible to photograph the tree from top to bottom — as the sign indicated could be done from that vantage point. That’s when a tourist standing near us pointed out — to the surprise of everyone gathered around the tree — that we were photographing the wrong tree. The Sherman Tree was actually visible across a meadow, another short hike away. I’ve never seen a bunch of tourists laugh so hard. (I’ve also never seen so many things that required hiking.)
Had we not returned, we would have gone home with pictures of the wrong tree.
I’ve often wondered why my stepfather chose the Sequoias for his final resting place. I think I know now. He had an incredible sense of humor, and I suspect he knew how his flatlander children would get by in the woods: with good humor, a sense of adventure, and a renewed feeling of camaraderie.
My siblings want to go again next year; start a new tradition. Who knows — maybe next time, I just might be brave enough to try a pine tree. Many parts are edible, I hear.
Copyright 2008, Metropolitan News Company