"To die would be an awfully big adventure!"

Or actually, not! At least not according to Mary Michelle.

She prefers the "To live would be an awfully big adventure" version of that quote.

But she is, without a doubt in my mind, one of the toughest little eight-year-olds I know.

Last Saturday, a few of us (Tim, Richelle, Anna, and M&M) decided we wanted to take advantage of our about-to-expire yearly membership to Parks Quebec - which gives our family all the access we could want to the Jacques Cartier National Park.

Early afternoon, we left home for our first adventure in our Matrix (the Toyota kind... no pill swallowing involved!), en route to the Jacques.

Mountains in the distance as we head towards the park.

Another mountain, names for "Les frères Wright" - thus why we want to climb this one too... someday!

Looking for a decent workout, we decided to give one of the difficult trails a try. Anna has been begging us for over three years now to hike to the summit of one of the mountains in the park. We knew it might be a challenge for M&M, but considering we were three more-or-less adults, we figured we could get her up there. And, if the trail proved too difficult, I'd turn around with the half-pint and we'd let Tim and Anna scale the heights. 

• 6.8 kilometers, one way
• two primary overlooks
• the gal at the Discovery Center's words: "If you make the first overlook, keep on going. It is much easier than the first part of the trail."
• 4:30 in the afternoon
• 3 large water bottles
• 4 Kit Kat bars ("For a bit of trail nourishment," says Tim as he purchases the candy.)

We started up the trail. 

I'm telling you, don't mess with this kid!

This was pretty typical of the rockiness of the trail.

KitKat break

Cooling off

Obligatory "Pride Rock" pose, without a Simba, so the water bottle stood in.

It was steep, there were lots of rocks and roots, but we reached the first overlook by 5:30 in the afternoon.

Then, we decided to continue on. After all, that was what the lady had told us. Bad life decision, but more on that later.

The remainder of the trail wasn't as steep, although there were some trickier rocky places to negotiate, especially for our half-pint. 

We knew we were close here!

We could see all the way back down to the Discovery Center!

Taking in the view.

Anna and I arrived about 5 minutes before Tim and M&M.

But...

No time to rest. It was just after 6 pm, and we had a lot of kilometers to cover before dark.

We didn't make it. Even though the upper part of the trail was less steep and physically demanding, the rocks and trail condition made it tricky and it took us as long to get down that part as it had climbing up. On top of that, M&M's shoes were too small - she hadn't mentioned it and I hadn't thought to check prior to leaving the house. Walking down meant her toes were slamming into the end of her shoes every step, and it hurt. (I think she's going to lose a couple of toenails as a result.) By 7:15, it was getting really hard to see, and Tim turned his cell phone flashlight on. Unfortunately, the battery died within 10 minutes.

We still had over 2 km to go before we'd be back to the parking lot, and it was the hardest, steepest parts of the trail with lots of crevices running across the path, sharp turns, and small rock steps that were about half M&M's height. Speaking of her, she was terrified of the prospect of animals. 

At about this point, we tried to see if we could phone the park rangers and ask someone to bring us a legit flashlight. That was when we discovered that the paper with the number had been left in the car (but the Kit Kats made it!). Even worse, we had no phone service even though we had been able to make a call just a little bit higher up the mountain. 

Anna took the lead. I held/helped/lifted/carried M&M. Tim held my phone with just the LED light up so that we could see... a tiny bit. And little by little, we worked our way down the mountain, in the dark. Anna sang silly songs (she's good at that). Here's our favorite, sung to the tune of Veggie Tales' "Keep Walking," with slightly modified lyrics. 

Keep walking! Better watch out for that rock!

Keep walking! Will this trail ever stop!

It's plain to see that our brains are very small

To go walking down a mountain in the dark!

Amazingly (God is very gracious to us, often in the midst of our stupidity), my phone was at 57% battery when we started using it. When we finally reached the parking lot and our car, it was at 51%. Before we'd driven the 16 km to exit the park, it had crashed to 35%. We saw and heard no animals. No one was seriously hurt... just a few stubbed toes, M&M's poor toenails, a twisted ankle and very sore muscles.

Lessons learned/a few observations made:

1. Always bring a flashlight with fresh batteries when you go hiking, regardless.
2. Matches and a flare gun might not be a bad idea either.
3. Make sure someone knows what trail you are hiking.
4. Realistically assess the situation and don't depend on the information of young gals standing behind desks. In other words, use common sense.
5. All of those Bible verses about blind leading the blind took were much more powerful.
6. The brightness of an LED light reflected off a white metallic trail marker is astonishing.
7. Going down can be much more work than going up.
8. There are strength and security in numbers - I'm so glad we were four and not just one or two.
9. What was scary to me wasn't necessarily scary to others. M&M was terrified of the prospect of animals. Tim was afraid the battery would die on my phone. I was afraid for our kids back home if we would have had to find a place to stay the night because, without the LED light, it would have been impossible to continue down the mountain without serious injury. Anna was afraid she'd run out of songs to sing.

Perhaps the most striking observation... which, interestingly, was more or less echoed the next day at church in one of our discussion groups: When we are surrounded by profound darkness, even the dimmest of lights has great potential to illuminate, encourage and be even more brightly reflected.

Once we reached the parking lot, we found three tracks shoved under the windshield wipers of our car - a clear reminder that while Quebec may seem a spiritually dark place, God's light is present and is making a difference.

Across the Great Divide

As a kid, I vaguely remember watching a movie called Across the Great Divide. I don’t remember a ton of details – essentially two orphan kids have to get across the Rocky Mountains and to the West Coast to get their inheritance. In the process, they meet up with… and end up partnering with… a con man which ends up being key to reaching their goal.

The title of the movie has an obvious meaning. Those orphans had to cross the Continental, or Great, Divide – a hydrological boundary that runs from the Bering Strait in Alaska to the Strait of Magellan, at the tip of South America. This line divides two great watersheds. To the east of the divide, all water drains, ultimately, into the Atlantic Ocean. To the west, it courses to the Pacific.

There is, however, another more symbolic meaning to those words. The Great Divide was not just that place where geologically, water flow separated. It was also the converse – it was the place where, for a moment, those ultimately heading in very different directions actually met. Thus, metaphorically, what could be seen by some only as only a source of division could, conceivably, also become a summit meeting place, a place for conversation and dialogue, a place for challenge, growth and change...

Within Christianity, there are a number of these “great divides,” and missions is no different....

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To read the rest, join me at a life overseas: the missions conversation, where I'm posting today!

Five Minute Friday ~ Reach ~

"When a ball dreams, it dreams it’s a Frisbee."

~ Stancil Johnson ~ 

 

I love to play catch... with footballs and Frisbees. Nothing feels more like fall than tossing a football between friends once the weather is cool enough to demand sporting a sweatshirt. And nothing feels feels more like summer than chasing a Frisbee barefoot across a dandelion inundated grassy field in some random park... 

Likewise, throwing and catching footballs and Frisbees are two completely different animals.

Footballs are pretty predictable and precise - and that's good, because you need that in those "fallish" seasons of life.

Frisbees, on the other hand, are anything but. Unlike a ball, they are characteristically capricious. They glide and float, arc and curve; they fly fast, straight and hard or seem to soar, swoop and bounce along with the wind. If you know what you are doing, a flung Frisbee can impersonate a boomerang.

I love watching kids, little ones especially, learn how to throw and catch a Frisbee. But the catching is conspicuously challenging. One moment, little one is so sure and reaches high in an attempt to clap that disk between their hands. Then the Frisbee sways to the right or left... or it drops suddenly... or it bounces just out of reach. Off goes the child, chasing after escaped plastic, often giggling from surprise, excitement and determination to capture that thing the next time.

They'll do this for hours.

So how does it happen that once I grew up, and God launched a few "Frisbees" my direction... yet when I reached, His carrying wind lifted it up and out of my reach... even when I jumped? Then, instead of seeing fun, adventure and another opportunity... instead of giggling, I stomp away, instead of taking off to chase it down?

Sometimes all it takes is a few more steps, before that Frisbee floats right back within grasp.

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Linking up with Kate. Won't you join us? What stories come to mind when you see the word, "reach?"

Lovably a "Ruffnut" AND Eleven

We had another birthday this week.

Victoria.

She's ELEVEN... going on THIRTY-FIVE, I think.

People say she's the most like me

(which isn't necessarily a complement).

But perhaps that means that if she had to choose a faction, she'd choose Dauntless...

For on good days, she does say and do things that fit with Tris' character ~

“I have a theory that selflessness and bravery aren't all that different.” 

“We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.”

“Politeness is deception in pretty packaging.” 

“Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable.” 

“It reminds me why I chose Dauntless in the first place: not because they are perfect, but because they are alive. Because they are free.”

&

“...there is power in self-sacrifice.”

I often thought "Victoria" as I was reading the book...

It's highly possible that given the opportunity, she'd argue with a fence post, and most likely win!

I now understand why my mom always used to say the same about me...

"And if I were weak and girly, I'd be my brother."

"You know, they say competition is the very essence of life itself."

Tuffnut: Try those songs mom used to sing to us when you were little and afraid of the dark.
Ruffnut: You were afraid of the dark, not me! I was afraid of you!
Tuffnut: Just sing!
Ruffnut: (Sings) Hush little viking, don't you cry...Or the beserkers will come and stab you in the eye...Don't let the enemy see you afraid, or he'll cut you with a rusty blade...

But for all her bravado, she really does have a tender, gentle spirit - when she's willing to share it with others...

That's real bravery instead of mere bravado... and a lot harder to learn in the long run.

Even though she's most like me, 

sometimes I think I understand her the least of all of these Wrightlings...

You know... all those "Why do I do that/say that/act that ways... we're always asking ourselves...

Thus, I find myself asking these well-known questions ~

???????????????????

How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?

???????????????????

But how do you make her stay and listen to all you say?

???????????????????

How do you keep a wave upon the sand?

???????????????????

How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

???????????????????

These oft' sung words describe her, more eloquently than I...

She'd outpester any pest

Drive a hornet from its nest

She could throw a whirling dervish out of whirl

She is gentle! She is wild!

She's a riddle! She's a child!

She's a headache! She's an angel!

She's a girl!

Because that's not just the way we love her...

it's also the way we really like her, as Ruffnut herself would say, 

a whole stinkin' lot!!!

(Yep... there's a whole lot "borrowed" to construct this post... from 

Divergent, The Sound of Music, and How to Train Your Dragon movie/TV series. 

Also a special thanks to Holley VanDenBerg for sharing the better quality and in focus 

Ruffnut and Ruffnut/Tuffnut photos!)

31 days... of dinner chez les Wrightlings... in which I start conniving to figure out something relatively healthy and affordable for us to eat while we travel unexpectedly {day 3}

Late Tuesday night we got word that my grandmother had fallen and broken her hip. We'd also been looking for another opportunity to travel down and see my grandparents. Her accident coincided with a Thursday/Friday off school for the kids... we decided this was the opportunity and Wednesday early evening found us in the van and on our way to SE Missouri to hopefully see them and hug on them and just let them know how precious they are to us.

At first, I'd planned on leaving mid morning and traveling, just the kids and I. 

Then Tim learned he could go if we waited until after 5. And plans changed.

At first, I figured I'd be throwing fast food at the kids on the road.

Then, when I realized I had most of the day to get ready and still fit in a nap, I cleaned the pantry, froze some food so it wouldn't spoil and packed a cooler with sandwiches and other freshness I'd just bought the night before at the store.

Mary Michelle: "Mama, I don't want to eat the Indians! Do I HAVE to?"

Richelle: "You aren't eating Indians. 

You can pull the onions out of your {leftover squirrel} soup."

Mary Michelle: "I don't have to eat the yucky Indians?"

Richelle: "Un- yuns..."

Mary Michelle: "Un-dee-uns?"

Richelle: "There's no "duh" sound in there. Say un-yuns."

Mary Michelle: (with a grin) "Un-DEE-uns?"

Richelle: I think you need to run around the table 3 times saying 

yuns-yuns-yuns the whole time.

(Pause while little feet pound. The only other sound heard are the quiet snickers of older siblings. Then brother Jonathan pops out of his seat to chase her. He promptly receives a reprimand.)

Richelle: "Now say un-yuns."

Mary Michelle: "Un-dee-yuns?... ummm I mean onions!"

I'm sure Indians will be thankful to know that she was actually referring to onions...

...not Indians - and that she might have been probably was pulling my leg the whole time. Of course I had better not tell her that. She'd crawl under the table to grab ahold of my foot and start tugging.

And, for what it is worth, leftover squirrel soup, nacho chips dipped into chimichanga filling, cottage cheese, honey sweetened Greek yogurt, an almost too old to eat cucumber with lots of ranch dip - it makes for an interesting lunch.

The modified-much-cheaper-plan-for-dinner-on-the-road is ham sandwiches (in hot dog buns), carrots and celery with ranch dip, and apple pie cake. We've never tried the cake recipe before. Nadia made it with apples that were sending out invitations to all the fruit flies in Midland. She really is my go-to gal when it comes to baking.

CONCLUSION re THE NEW RECIPE?

None yet...

But it sure looks good. The guardians of the cooler (I wasn't, because I tried to nap a little in the back so I would be able to help drive later when Tim needed to nap) decided the Kit Kats were more convenient. So now the apple pie cake is sitting, waiting in our hotel room and will be consumed sometime today as a snack... and we'll let you know then.

Posts in this Series:

Squirrel Soup {day 1}

Chimichangas {day 2}