When my husband and I married, he made a couple promises to me. Of course there was the usual, “To love and honor, to have and to hold” bit, but there were a few extras he threw in too.
I am a mountain girl. I grew up in a tiny home on the base of Galbraith. Galbraith is world renowned in the mountain biking community and is rated as “difficult” but that didn’t mean squat to a kid who didn’t know any other terrain. Hikes and mountain bike rides meant dodging trees and sometimes creating your own path. The forests back home are thick with evergreens, lots of shade, pines and leaves. The air is fresh and cool, even in summer.
I came to California with my first husband, who had joined the Marines three years into our marriage without so much as talking with me about it. I was a supportive wife, but the move devastated me. I had a young child and was pregnant, without any family, friends, or community. I eventually made friends, I eventually became a part of the community and I did my best to acclimate to the heat as I tried to work on saving my marriage. The “Golden State” was overshadowed by my darkening mental health. I would have never admitted it to anyone back then, I wanted to be strong and push on and talking about it just seemed like a waste of my efforts.
My ex and I gave up on our marriage in 2011 and finally separated early in 2012. I had every intention of leaving California and raising my children in Washington, but my divorce took longer to process than it should have and I was forced to stay until it was finalized. It was during that agonizing time that I met a remarkable man. I didn’t know he was remarkable right away. I certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship, but a couple years later, we were raising our babies together, holding hands, making promises to have and to hold… and to take road trips to the mountains I love so much.
My husband takes his promises seriously, as one should, and we usually take two big mountain trips a year: one with all the kids, and one romantic one with just us. This trip was our annual fall family trip. It was a superb getaway, so relaxing for us all, mixed with the usual hiking adventures and baking. Our cabin was situated right on a cliff, with a perfect view of the popular paragliding/hang-gliding takeoff spot.
Saturday: Hanging out on a cliffside
I was able to teach my boys some basic finger grips (for rock climbing) and beamed with pride as they bouldered with me for nearly an hour.
These amazing adventurists are a part of Crestline Soaring Society. They had an appreciation event the day we happened to be there; free shuttle, free food, free drinks & free flying. That’s one hell of a give-back!
We came back to the cabin for a late lunch. The kids played on their phones and computers and J laid down on the sectional with his head resting comfortably in my lap while I put on ‘Home Alone’. It wasn’t long before a bright orange haze appeared through the window to my right. The colors were so saturated that the sunset stole my attention from the movie. I maneuvered out from under my sleeping husband, grabbed my camera off the table, and tiptoed outside to attempt to capture the gorgeous sunset. My youngest came with and was also in awe of the beautiful color. Silhouetted in the sky, was a lone paraglider, out for one last ride, with the best seat in the house.
Sunday: Hiking to Heart Rock
My oldest sons took the lead, scouting ahead and making funny remarks to one another. My youngest son stayed just ahead of his sisters, making sure to stop and assist them over more difficult terrain. He is such a sweetheart.
The colors were stunning. Perfect fall weather.
One of the kids’ favorite traditions is our final stop coming home from San Bernardino: Inn and Out. The girls always load up on the stickers and hats. Of course, when I ask my boys to put on their hats for a group photo, THIS is the response I get. I laughed, and over-exaggerated an exasperated eye-roll. They giggled over how clever they were and said, “What mom? You asked us to put on our hats, so we put ON our hats!”
“Distance changes utterly when you take the world on foot. A mile becomes a long way, two miles literally considerable, ten miles whopping, fifty miles at the very limits of conception. The world, you realize, is enormous in a way that only you and a small community of fellow hikers know. Planetary scale is your little secret.”
― Bill Bryson,