In October 2007, Phil and I walked our land for the first time. The next year, we came camping for two weeks with our two-month old. I carried him on my back, as 2-year-old Abraham and I walked 2/3 of the land, while Phil took the older boys all the way to the back. In 2009, we had been here about two months when we again hiked, this time with our temporary fifth child. That one stands in memory as the horrible hike, with bee sting and feather fight. Last year was beautiful, but still despair-inducing for me. So much to do! So overwhelming! So little accomplished! But this year, the hike was fabulous.
Maybe it helped that we had enthusiastic participation. Before we left, Abraham vehemently protested. But once we got started, he made the best of the inevitable, and even apologized as we neared home: "I'm sorry I had such a bad attitude before we left."
For a five-year-old, that's pretty mature. Such a sweet little guy.
Intrepid Joe exclaimed repeatedly, "I love hiking!" And he climbed steep slopes, walked along downed trees, beaming the whole time.
He embraces this life with his whole heart.
We didn't see much of Jadon this hike. He and Isaiah took a different route on the way out, and then while Isaiah stayed closer to us (I think to make sure he would be well-documented in photos), Jadon headed off alone. He is an impressive tree-climber, though, even without branches to cling to.
And though it scared me when he would be out of earshot (I've read too many stories of boys with broken legs and no one to hear their cries), the fact that he found his way through two acres of mostly unfamiliar forest is more than I could do at nine.
Isaiah exudes enthusiasm in the woods. He tried to walk across a slippery, damp, barkless tree, and remained undaunted at his absolute inability to do so.
Run up a large hill? Sure! Cross the creek multiple times just to see what it looks like from a different point of view? Of course! Jump on a downed tree just to see if the force will make it jiggle? No problem.
He's a passionate fellow, and the woods can absorb that passion.
And as for Phil (shown emerging from the back side of our land into the neighbor's clear cut), he carried three water bottles to the far side because one year we all felt completely parched with only one bottle. We must be faster walkers now, because we forced ourselves to drink one bottle, and then Phil dumped the rest when we reached the far side.
He walks the land and sees the future silvipasture (pasture with stately trees intermixed).
In the end, I felt rested and physically at ease. Not carrying any children any of the way makes a big difference.
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