Somebody gave me a framed quote a long time ago: “To share with a friend is to see twice the beauty.” I’m here to tell you that’s not just a schmaltzy poster sentiment; it’s absolutely true. Our good friends, Dave and Julie, came along with us on our latest hike since we were going to be in their neck o’ the woods and they turned out to be wonderful hiking companions. We saw a double dose of beauty through their observant eyes. Come along with us and I’ll show you what I mean.

Photo editing: Rich Doll (again – he’s been infernally kind with my requests to stitch photos together). Dave and Julie came equipped with old ski poles for hiking sticks, clearly demonstrating that this was not their first rodeo. This was another 2.2 mile hike, but appearances, as we were to find out, are deceiving. When the description of the hike contains the phrases “climb to the bluff top” and “hike to the valley floor,” you know you’re going to be in for a workout.

I stopped to get a photo of a lovely flower and Julie said, “Oh, that’s called “Touch Me Not,” or “jewel weed.” She explained how the seed pods become engorged when mature and if you touch them, they explode. It turned out that hiking with Dave and Julie was like being with nature guides sharing actual wood lore. We took more frequent stops to investigate and identify things, but at my age the prospect of more frequent stops is a blessing. Bring it on.

Early on we came to a “bridge.” It looked somewhat unstable and perhaps would have been if the water were high and rushing, but it was a tranquil stream and we crossed over without incident.

I think if I’d been holding a ski pole, however, I would not have been able to resist the temptation to strike the bridge, calling out in stentorian tones “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!”

The path from there led us straight uphill for a time (imagine a lot of heavy breathing and you’ll get a good idea of the sounds above my boots). A bench appeared in the wilderness inviting us to stop for a spell. Dave wandered off through the high grass and found some deer beds – areas of flattened grass.

We entered back into a woodsy area and before long, someone spotted a deer or two. We froze in our tracks, reduced our voices to whispers and Dave got out his binoculars to get a closer look (does it surprise anyone that they brought binoculars?). I had my Nikon with me (finally!) and with the zoom lens managed to get a fairly decent photo of his head. Fauna picture: check.

Someone had built a charming tent out of branches – just my kind of thing. If we’d had time, I would love to have stopped there awhile sitting in the enclosure, reading, praying, thinking, taking photos, drawing… Maybe next time.

We did see a two-legged creature peering out from the branches at us, but he looked fairly harmless.

We came at last to the pinnacle of the hike: Coyote Point, a beautiful place to stand and look over the Whitewater River Valley. Glory to God in the highest!

After a learned discussion between Kris and Dave about different types of oak trees, it was time to start back down to the valley from whence we began. The trip down started with a narrow and steep stairway, one of those that you have to turn around to go down. Why did this make me nervous?

The rest of the downward path wasn’t nearly as steep and had a wooden stairway for much of the way, so let us pause and applaud the Herculean efforts of those who built steps into the side of a hill so that the rest of us could saunter down with relative ease.

As we walk downhill,
Boots clattering on wood,
The present blurs with the past
And I see them alongside us,
Hands from long ago
Cutting trees, moving stones
Digging dirt, placing boards.
And though they see me not,
I make mental salute.
Thank you.

We’d already seen so much on this hike that it hardly seemed possible there could be more, but on our way down, we went by a cave, which definitely needed investigating. Caves are so mysterious, aren’t they? A black, yawning hole whose depths cannot be penetrated with the eye. In my imagination, that blackness is inhabited by either a human skeleton or a wild beast whose eyes glow menacingly at you in the dark. I stayed back and took photos (imagination has made a coward of me more than once).

At the end of the trail, Julie fished a few yummy trail bars out of her pack and shared them, thus establishing herself as a Hiking Companion Extraordinaire. We still had some distance to walk to get back to the cars, but good conversation made the rest of the journey short and sweet. We loved this hike, not only for the beauty and diversity of the trail, but also for the company we kept.

“The works of the Lord are great, studied by all who have pleasure in them.” Psalm 111:2. I am learning how to study with pleasure instead of just plodding through with my eyes on the finish line.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Next Hike: Banning State Park

We pass by this park every Sunday on the way to church, so why not just leave a couple hours early and sneak a hike in? And lo, it came to pass.

We’ve been impressed with the quality of the state park signs. Once again, my esteemed and talented brother-in-law has taken two photos and made them one. He assures me this isn’t rocket science, but as far as I’m concerned it might as well be. Photo editing: Rich Doll.

Things got off to a great start, since the very first thing I saw when we pulled in was a group of wild turkeys. The elusive fauna at last!! No need to rely on photos of beetles or dead animals. What I should have done was rolled down the window verrryyyy quietly and taken the photo. Instead, I got out of the car and they all fled for the brush.

The office was closed, the park quiet and seemingly deserted, although we saw signs saying all the campsites were full. We set out on the Hiking Club trail, which was a Play in Three Acts: Hidden Pond Trail, Oak Tree Trail and Sumac Trail. Kind of gives you an idea of what to expect along the way, doesn’t it? It was overcast and the dense tree coverage made the air very close indeed, yet it was a mild 70 degrees, cloudy with a chance of mosquitos.

After passing several ersatz hidden ponds, we came across the real hidden pond (helpfully designated with a sign).

We tried to imagine what this area was like when the Wahpekuta people were the only ones living here. As we walked, the constant hum of insects lent a musical background to our conversation. Sakatah means “singing hills,” and what few little hills we trod up and down were certainly alive with the sound of music.

In no time at all, we were on the Oak Tree Trail, littered with acorns as a testament to its name.

We crunched along right over them and one of us said, “These acorns remind me of…” and the other one finished “…the skulls from the Paths of the Dead.” Great minds, right? When you’ve been married as long as we have, you no longer have to bother with finishing sentences. Kris thought the idea of acorns being the skulls of oak trees was poetry just waiting to happen, so I offer this up as a possibility:

We walked in heavy hiking boots,
The air was close, but sweet.
Acorns, the skulls of oak trees,
Lay strewn beneath our feet.

Needs work, but let’s not tarry. The transition to the Sumac Trail was subtle; the sumac didn’t jump out at us. By this time, we’d started speculating about why the Hiking Club wasn’t more “club-ish,” with group meetings, snacks and secret handshakes. Kris said, “Maybe there’s some cat poop out there,” which startled me out of my stupor. “Cat poop?” I inquired, vaguely shocked. “I said, ‘chat rooms,‘ not ‘cat poop.'” Well, shoot – that kind of thing also happens when you’ve been married as long as we have. It makes for very confusing (and amusing) conversation sometimes.

And now it’s time for the traditional flora and fauna collage. Ta da!

I’ve been a wee bit lazy about actually identifying the flora. Those brown blobs in the bottom photo are the turkeys. Sigh. Poor quality photos look even worse when cropped and enlarged, don’t they? That’s what I get for depending on my iPhone for every photo. Next time, I’m bringing the Nikon.

We finished the 2.2 mile hike in 45 minutes, record time.

But where was the lake of Sakatah Lake State Park? Hidden ponds will not suffice, and reasoning that there must be a lake, we drove around until we found it. Ahh…

We sat on a bench on the floating dock for awhile; a motor boat had just gone by and the resulting waves made the dock move gently up and down while the rhythmic sound of those waves hitting the shore provided the perfect soundtrack. “Let’s come down here every week before church and have a quiet time on the dock,” said one of us. The other agreed. And our boots made it unanimous.

Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. – Isaiah 40:28

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Next Hike: Whitewater State Park