Andrew grew up with two waterfalls in his backyard. By back yard I mean the acres upon acres of property that back up to the Chattahoochee National Forest in the landscape of the Appalachian Mountains. Two waterfalls. The first one he took Katie and me to see was 60 feet tall. We could hear it as we got closer to the river. Andrew’s loyal English Lab, Gus, proudly led the way through the quiet woods- the waterfall hidden ahead and our pattering feet the only sounds to be heard. We could hear its power and feel the spray of the mist come from the pounding of the water hitting the river waiting below the fall. Sweet mist. Cool and refreshing even on a cold day.
Cleveland, Georgia is where I found myself after finals on May 9th. Well actually, I got lost. My ‘internal GPS’ couldn’t locate any satellites and I wandered around North Georgia for an hour, calling Andrew every ten minutes to figure out where the heck I was. Even in my frustration, he never lost patience with me or became frustrated with my inability to follow directions or expel my stubbornness to admit I shouldn’t find an alternative route (yet another effort to prove in some small way my independence: listen to directions and then find my own way by altering them slightly… This is NOT a good way to get places). He finally navigated me to a grocery store parking lot where I waited for him and Katie to find me. I have to give him the Medal of Honor-the patience edition to commend him for not being angry with me. And Katie gets an award too for smiling and hugging me when they finally found me, knowing I was angry with me.
After taking in the waterfalls and watching Gus cannonball into the river for sticks and follow them over smaller waterfalls, and after laughing at his unique technique to dive underwater to find sinking sticks, we went to hike up Blood Mountain on the Appalachian Trail. Gus did not attend this outing.
There are times when we are motivated to continue on against better reason. When life may not be perfect or breezing by smoothly but we can’t bring ourselves to complain because it all feels right- those are the moments and the situations we should take note of. There will be times that you’ll find yourself in the moment you’re in, not thinking about anyone but the people you’re with, not daydreaming about another life or scenario that doesn’t exist, but you’ll be right there-with those people, in that memory, and you’ll be happy. I wish for everyone many moments like that, and the ability to appreciate them. Our hike down from Blood Mountain was one of those times for me. At the top we looked out over the mountains from a pile of boulders. Our eyes could barely comprehend the sight and played tricks of zooming in and out, trying to grasp the size of what they were seeing. It was Beautiful up there. It was Quiet. You don’t know quiet until you’ve heard it at it’s loudest.
It started to rain and we climbed around like little kids on a jungle gym. Excited and high from the climb, the view, and the day. I heard Andrew's voice come from a crack between two boulders he was worming his way through. And suddenly Katie appeared above me on a boulder when she had been behind and below me. The rain picked up and the wind blew colder. The view fogged over. If we had been three minutes later showing up, we would have missed the mountain range scene.
We sat in the old stone shelter and read through the guest book. A few people had mentioned recent sightings of a black bear so we planned what we would do if one appeared. We decided we would climb up into the rafters. Andrew’s plan varied slightly; he would feed one of us to the bear. Then if it was still hungry he would feed the other one of us to the bear. “And then if it was STILL hungry….uh…oops. Dangit,” he said with a laugh.
The rain wasn’t letting up so we decided to make a run for it. We were wet and hungry. Katie’s feet started to blister in her Chacos on the way up so on the wet way down she went barefoot. Rain was dripping off our noses and the cold was turning them red. Katie’s feet were going numb in the fifty degree weather. Andrew gave her his socks and shoes, which were double the size of her feet so she instantly got the name Sasquatch as she flopped down the mountain and he looked like a tall mountain man hiking around in his barefeet.
I lead the way for a little while and we ended up sliding down a rockface we weren’t supposed to be on. Katie and I were crying with laughter. And Andrew realized I had led us astray. We remembered his comment at the beginning of our hike, “You’d have to be an idiot to get lost on the Appalachian Trail.” We climbed back up the slippery rock cliff and I wasn't allowed to lead anymore. Fair enough.
So I’m on the path with mountain man and sasquatch and we’re in good spirits even though we’re going to catch pneumonia and die if we don’t get some home made pizza Andrew's dad promised to make for dinner into our stomachs. We talked about making two large pizzas, one to eat and one to wrap our feet in. or maybe one to eat and a GIANT one to use as a blanket to curl up and go to sleep under.
We made it back to Andrew’s but there was no pizza waiting for us like we'd hoped. Though, a change into warm clothes and sweaters fresh out of the dryer were probably more comfortable than being wrapped in a giant pizza anyway.
I share a glass of wine with Andrew’s mom and she talks about her family. She tells me about how different her children are and their school situations: she home schools one daughter and lets the other go to the local high school because she is more of a socialite. Her youngest son transferred colleges after the first year because it wasn’t what he wanted. As she talks, I can hear the pride and understanding she has for all of the decisions they make. The support from his parents is evident in the way they have supported their children's decisions to do what’s best for them, and what makes them happiest. Her children are allowed to pursue their dreams as intensely or cautiously as they are comfortable doing. So, this is the Andrew I know, the mountain man with an incredible support system. His patience makes sense now. He makes a little more sense.
Consider this: if we’re lost and laughing. Are we where we’re supposed to be? How big would a pizza have to be to roll yourself up in it?
