This summer I decided to kick off the 75th anniversary of the park with a trip to the Chimneys. I'd never been there before. Each month I go on a 24 hour silent retreat with other clergy guys in Knoxville and those trips to a Maggie Valley retreat center were suspended for the summer. I really like them and while it may seem strange if you have never practiced silence as a spiritual discipline, I have found they really create space for God to show up. I decided to go alone to spend a night at Elkmont and hike the Chimneys.
Sweet mother of Horace Kephart, that is a trail that just never seems to stop going up! I mean you go around a bend thinking "okay, this has got to be getting close" and then you see what to my fatigued brain looks like another 2 miles of straight up. Now keep in mind that I have taken a self-imposed vow of silence for 24 hours. Not a problem in camp alone, but I like to be a friendly guy on the trail. I keep passing folks and find that I am stretching to find ways of communicating friendliness to other hikers. That in itself was exactly the kind of thing I like about creating new space, but it was a challenge. I found that giving my Davy Crockett grin was the best I could do. As I was close to gasping for breath with every step anyway, I imagine folks thought I was too tuckered out to speak (which was true). I finally reached the top and climbed to about 40 yards of the summit and that was it.I looked at the last stretch and thought getting up the rock face was doable, but getting down was another matter. I was alone too, so who would know where to hunt for my mangled body? Plus I would surely scream as I fell and that would break my vow of silence. A conundrum to be sure. I stared at the last 40 yards and was reminded of the episode of Bonanza where Little Joe was tracking the mountain lion and lost his gun on a mountain top and was frozen with fear, you know the one I'm talking about. He gets down but has to explain to everyone where his rifle is, but he doesn't want to tell about being afraid of heights. That's what i'm thinking as I'm frozen there inching up that rock. What can I say, I'm an only child and I watched a lot of tv as a kid. So I bag it, deciding that today this is as far as I'm going. On the way down I meet a nice couple coming up. They look inquisitive and friendly. "Here we go again, big grin, out of breath, smile and nod." Young man says "been to the top?" I shake my head no. 'Will you take a picture of us?" I make a gesture that I can't speak and they begin to look at me with sympathy. I take the picture grinning away and hand back the camera. That's when they make some kind of sign gestures and ask if that means "thank you". They think I'm deaf. At this point I break my vow , whispering, "I don't know, I just can't talk." Now they're embarrassed and probably thinking I have a bad case of laryngitis. Perhaps I'll get a card that says "I'm an anglican priest who has taken a vow of silence.
SECOND TRIP- FATHER/DAUGHTER HIKE
A week later I took a day to spend with my daughter and one of her friends came too. We set up camp at Elkmont and headed fro the Chimneys. "Okay Little Joe if you can do it, so can I." To the top full speed ahead! The hike has the same effect on them. They are 15 and I'm 48, I figured they would have boundless energy, but not so. This 2 mile hike is a kicker, but I know the payoff is at the end. My daughter is not a camper, nor a hiker, and it took a threat to stop paying her cell phone bill to get her there, but I knew that it could be great. I just don't want to look back in 10 years and not have tried this with my girls. I take UT students every month and they love it, but I really want to share what is out there with my kids. When they got to the top, and it is like being on top of the world, they were amazed. My daughter then gave me the best fathers' day present ever, when she said "thanks for bringing us here dad."
That's when I wanted to go for the top,but she said flat out, if I did this would be our last trip. She doesn't like heights. A storm was coming across the mountains and so retreat seemed the better part of valor. As we got to the base of the rocks it hit and we were soaked to the bone by the time we reached the car, but even that didn't dampen the experience. We'd had an adventure and so it was back to camp for dinner, fireflies and smores.
THIRD TRIP'S A CHARM-FATHER/SON HIKE
I've just returned from my third trip to the Chimney's. This time with my 10 year old son. Camp is set up at Elkmont and back to the Chimney's. Little Joe took 3 times to conquer his mountain too on Bonanza. "Is this going to be hard?, how much further?, How many more minutes?, I'm tired, can we stop?" And so it went. This would not be a silent retreat. I knew that if he would just trust me through 2 miles of straight up, he'd be a different kid. We got to the ridge, you know, the part that looks like it was in the Lord of the Rings with the roots of the tree spreading all over the ground, and then he saw it. We messed around for awhile as I let go of my own fears for him and saw this as one of those moments when a boy steps out and I needed to let him. It comes in different ways at different times, kids are different, but I thought this was his time. He was willing and the odd thing was, so was I. I caught myself starting to tell him to stay put while I did something that I out of reflex I didn't want him to risk. I stopped and I think we both matured a little right then. We made our way to the summit, and looked down the Chimney's big cracks, the hole that I assume is part of the reason they're called the Chimney's. All of the complaints going up were forgotten, in fat he even said it was worth it all. You have to keep in mind, his only other hikes have been Laurel Falls and Kephart Prong trails. I loved the look on his face at the top.
I have one more child to go. My 16 year old daughter has yet to see the top of the Chimney's and soon I hope, we'll create the space for the experience. New driver's license and new job will crowd her schedule, but I still pay the cell phone bill.
If you don't keep a journal of your mountain adventures with your family, I highly encourage you to start. He watched me writing about our day and asked if he could keep one too. Mine reads like this blog more or less, with time and temp thrown in and one day, after I've made my last hike, I bet it will be pulled out and read around the campfire to grandchildren. But that's a little more space than I am ready to create right now.
