Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Hiking Words

"I have never heard silence so loud." -Jenna Jimenez
3/24/18 - written at the meadow clearing atop the Syllamore Trail in Arkansas

The work of the pack up the rocky path
The heave of uphill
The wind, the air!
The cool breeze at the tops of mountains.
The sunshine.
Miles and miles the mountains flow on 
and the trees raise praise to You.
The rocks DO cry out in silence to You.  
The wind DOES go where You send it.
And I am here.
ON this mountain.
Trying to take it all in.
But I cannot
It's too wide, too deep
and goes on forever
So I just stand in it

Monday, April 16, 2018

Four Days + Three Nights: Two Gals on a Backpacking Trip

Beginning NSCT  (Tiff left, Jenna right)
Planning a backpacking trip on trails you've never even walked on is quite exciting- and a little bit terrifying.  The trails I chose were practically in the backyard of where I spent my reformative years (middle school through high school) in North Central Arkansas.  My parents still live there, so fortunately it was close enough for Dad to be our "shuttle."  I don't know if these trails existed when I lived there twenty-five years ago, because I didn't get into trail running, hiking, and backpacking until a year ago.  But I do know that two races were held on these trails in the month prior, so I felt confident they existed recently.
The North Sylamore Creek Trail (NSCT) has lots of great information online.  It passes through three campgrounds.  We found the Trail Head in Allison, AR without much trouble, and as we'd been warned online - we had to cross the fairly wide creek right off.  We waved bye to Dad, and trekked on, enthusiastically.
My friend Tiffany had agreed to come with me.  She usually jumps at my plans like this; she likes it as much as I do.  She is 36 and I am 41.  We look years younger, we know...
We both live in Tennessee.  She was born and raised in Alabama
and I was born in Arkansas, raised in Kansas City, KS and then back in AR.  We both love the natural places.
Tiffany crossing stream
We set out for Gunner Pool, a ten mile hike for day one.  It was not hard, but our bodies had to adjust.  We arrived early enough to set up camp in daylight, pay our fees in the envelop box, and find water.  Except the pumps were all dry.  There were lots of people camping... but no filtered water for campers like the website had indicated. Bummer.  I asked the guy walking his dog and he sadly said no, and he'd seen us hike in and felt bad, so come on over after we set up and he'd give us water from his RV to save us from filtering one night.  We had a great conversation with him, his wife, and dog, and enjoyed it quite well!  They were adventure travelers from Wisconsin and were currently keeping South of the cold, and moving around as they liked, in the luxury of their RV.  Their eyes glistened with envy and excitement for us, and respect too.  Making friends, even ones you'll never meet again, is cool.  They highly recommended The Boundary Waters Canoe Trails and some famous Florida trail (that I forget the name of) to us.  Sounded amazing!
Gunner Pool was peaceful, with the (stream) water literally pooling up and flowing over right under our campsite.  I was glad to get back on the trail the next morning though.  That trail changed so often that it never got boring!  We were headed to Barkshed, then on toward Cripple Turkey Trail Head, the end of the NSCT and our connector to the Ozark Highlands Trail (OHT).  We decided to go about 10-12 miles.  Then, we revised the plan to state that at 5:30 we would begin to look for a good spot to camp off the trail.  We had to find camp by 6:30 to set up before it got dark at 7:30.  We thought this was all a good plan.  We had never camped along a trail before in a non-designated or non pre-determined location.  But we figured we could handle it.
Tiffany trekking
Well...I'm not going to say that it was easy.  We stopped at an okay location by the creek and filled up our water container to carry (with the plan to filter it at camp or boil what we needed to cook with), since it was nearly 6pm.  The creek was kind of buggy, so we went looking for a better spot.  Looking back, that may not have been the wisest decision.  We had a hard time finding level ground the further we ascended and went up around the mountain.  Finally, (and long story short) we hiked up and off the trail to the edge of a meadow and camped there.  It was a windy, but a warmer night.  We had to hang our food bag for the first time "for real."  That was hilarious.  We had to filter water and clear out a good spot for the tent that was somewhat level and would hopefully not get punctured by whatever had been harvested there.
We had both been a little frustrated, but a bowl of warm soup, filtered water, and the prospect of sleep put us in better moods.  The fun part about backpacking is when you get to your "camp stop" you don't really get to rest.  There is a LOT of work involved in just unpacking, changing, eating, and setting up camp.  Finally, rest comes.  Tiffany said she felt good about all we'd done and if we decided to leave the trail the next day, she felt satisfied that we'd accomplished what we'd set out to do.
Prairie Camp Night #2
The next morning I awoke as the sun was rising.  I lay there, thinking.  I stirred and Tiff woke too.  The first thing I said was, "I want to stay on the trail."  She was surprised, but said, "okay."
We got up and broke camp and took very literally the Leave No Trace philosophy.  We got back on the trail. I was motivated and felt strong.   About an hour down the trail we met an older guy who was just as surprised to see us as we were to see him!  He asked where we'd started and told us where he was headed.  We wished each other well, and he said we were nearly there now.  I think I took him too literally.
The trail ran along the mountainsides.  It went in and out.  Because it was still early spring, we could usually see the trail across on the other side of the next mountain. It was SO far away always!  The chasm between mountains was WIDE, the gap deep, and the hike into their creases and out back and over each mountain seemed so far- every time.  It seemed to take extra long to get to Cripple Turkey!
Completely Thru-Hiked the NSCT
But we finally arrived!  We had thru-hiked the NSCT!  23.7 miles!  Our first true through hike and two nights of camping!  We cheered for ourselves and had lunch!
We had no idea where the next water source would be, but we found it a half mile down the OHT.  So, we stopped to filter water, because we needed it to drink that day.  Rookie mistake.  We should've pressed on to eat lunch at our next water source and filtered there, even not knowing where it could be.
Filtering water at the creek was very enjoyable.  We splashed our faces with the cool, clear water.  A horse and his rider came out of nowhere to enjoy a drink as well!  That was interesting!
Me filtering water
The OHT was also a horse trail for part of the way and it was very muddy.  We had to navigate carefully for awhile.  It was a beautiful path, but strange too.  There were many times that roads also merged with with the trail.  We had a map (laminated and attached to my pack) but it was useless.  There is not much information about this section of the OHT on the internet.  But it was definitely obvious that we were on a completely different trail than the last one - mostly because we were going UP, UP, UP and OVER mountains instead of walking around them.  It was hard work!  We had no cell signal out there hardly ever.  When we climbed the tallest mountain yet, we stopped to check and signal!  Finally, we were able to let our families know that we were alive and FINE.  They had been wondering...
Most of the OHT had been intentionally burnt on both sides of the trail.  I knew that forest fires were important for the health of the forest because I'd been reading Johnny Molloy's books.  But it still didn't look lovely after miles and miles of it.  We were glad to spot any greenery!  The trail was a rocky strip, single track with a slight angle to the right always.  It was grueling at times. Those trekking poles were worth every cent!
Bluff side Camp #3
Again, we decided to start looking for camp about 5:30.  We didn't find any worthwhile water sources, which was discouraging.
We finally found the "best of a difficult situation" campsite on the side of a burnt bluff.  The ash was thick and lumpy, making the entire area wobbly to navigate- even a few steps.  With difficulty, we found large rocks to open our packs on, set up the tent, and got the cook stove started.  We would inevitably end up covered in black soot.   The wind was very strong and we knew it was going to be cooler that night.  But the sky was finally clear!  We were going to see the stars!  Our camp was a strange place, but we were making the best of it, and it was quite the adventure!
Cooking Station
We hung our food bag, even though there seemed to be no obvious threat on this burnt ashen mountainside.  As we slept, our tent apparently slid.  The tent stakes hadn't really had secure options in the ash.  We tried to shimmy it back up.  I  imagined us rolling off the bluff, in the tent, down the deep mountainside unable to stop.  It was hard to fall back asleep with that thought.  But eventually I did.  We got up and ate our regular oatmeal and broke camp much more quickly this time.  We'd improved a little!  We started out, with the plan to go about six miles until the OHT crossed the Highway.  If we found a water source, we could go on the next six miles then call Dad for a ride back.
If we didn't find water, we weren't sure we could risk the commitment to stay on for those six extra miles.  The views on this side of the trail were like none we'd seen so far.  We could see for miles and miles when we reached mountaintops!  The mountains were blue and stretched out forever.  We had lunch atop a mountain.  It took a mile or two to descend it.  We tried to go slow.  It seemed the road was closer than we wanted it to be.  Since we hadn't seen water, we knew our trip was coming to an end.  The trail was green again with beautiful rocks and switchbacks.  We could still see for miles as we descended.  Eventually, we reached the bottom of the mountain and the  road crossing.  Time to call Dad.

We walked up the road to meet him after we called him.  Even that was a first!  We'd never carried our packs while walking along a highway! I felt like the real deal.  We made a video while we waited. Dad arrived and we had a short ride back, where we spread out all of our gear to air out, ate the BEST TACOS AND FRIES OF OUR LIVES (thanks Mom!), packed back up and prepared to drive back to TN the next morning.
38.8 miles of backpacking Completed!
It was a big accomplishment for us two gals who had just read about these things in books, and had very little prior experience (a few previous easy one-nighters).  But we learned SO MUCH by just being out there.  Concepts that you can't understand when you Pin them.  Knowledge you may not find on blog posts, and videos that could never truly capture the reality of the terrain, or situations.  We learned what we probably already knew:  that we would never really know or understand the challenge or the reward until we GOT OUT THERE and DID IT!

Friday, April 13, 2018

To Drown

My friends don't bring me wine
They know.
I can't.
I'd drink myself
to Drown
And do it again.
I'd never lost a child before 
I've never known a hurt so deep
No one stops by the liquor store
on their way-
or gives me pills.
I would sabatoge
and stop eating
to keep drinking
to stop feeling

Yet I'd fill with regret
and shame
wracked with guilt 
Compounding my grief
and drink more to make it go away
This well 
does not end 
at any rock bottom
but death.
I cannot entertain 
a single thought on it
or I will begin
to descend
upon my own

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Out-pour Poem Day One

The grief is so thick.
I can barely see through it.
I can hardly move in it.
It catches my breath.
And chokes me.
It threatens to engulf me.
In waves so powerful,
I want to let it.
That feels dangerous.
My heart constricts,
and bends and bleeds
Not understanding
nonetheless believing
what I don’t even want
to believe.

God, why would you?
God, how could you?
You know that I will praise you through everything -
And still you allow this suffering.

Place Your hands on me
Guide me through this grief
I cannot see past today
Show me what
You know I don’t know-
when I can know.

I trust You. I trust You. I say it and mean it. I trust You.

I understand nothing,
but by faith,
and prayers,
by Your Hands
I am held.
So I understand something,
and I understand nothing
in a grief this thick.

Out-pour Poem Day Two

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

The new reality:

44 days
That's how long I've spent adjusting to my new reality: pregnant.
Another child.
Really, God?  Wow.  At the age of 41, nonetheless.
I was confused for sure, but soon this sweet new secret of Life, Joy, and Love began to glow within me.
We waited until the 8 week ultrasound (to see the heart beat) before we told family.
Of course, sweet Brielle was ecstatic- and in shock.
She began making plans.  And an announcement sign.
We all began to imagine our new reality, talked about it, dreaming.
Life with a baby!  Now? Our plans continued as normal, but with an anticipation, expectation.

My midwife scheduled an ultrasound for eleven weeks.  She never said "high risk" but rather, "Advanced Maternal Age." I scoffed.  I maybe was a little coy.  I'm healthier now than I've ever been in my entire life.  I've always been fertile and had three healthy pregnancies. No wonder I was pregnant again.
I know I'd thought of it a few times since learning of the pregnancy...
But I was not thinking about it at all when the ultrasound began.
I had brought Brielle!  She was giddy.
Tiffany was there with us too.  We were going to see the baby!
Except we didn't.
The nightmare slowly unfolded in a surreal sort of why.
I can't even explain what I was thinking or feeling.  I hugged Brielle.  I felt SO bad.
I did not see this coming.  No heartbeat.
We went over to the Midwives' Clinic, where they took us to private room.
I called Will, crying.
He couldn't understand what I was saying through my sobs.
He had not seen this coming.
The midwife and intern came in to speak with me.  They believed the baby had stopped growing somewhere around nine weeks gestation.
They asked if they could pray for me, for us.
Yes.  Yes, absolutely.
I bawled.
And I didn't stop crying for three days.
Or maybe four.  Today is day four.  I've cried a little less today.  Allowing myself time to think and process life now.
I won't be delivering a baby in October.
I won't be pregnant through summer.
So...what then? I can give blood.  I can drink coffee.  I can train for and run that Marathon I'd signed up for (last year) in August.  I can backpack in the Fall.
All meaningless.
All completely meaningless.
I wanted the baby.  I wanted my child.  I wanted to feel her kick in my womb.  I wanted to birth her into my arms, and nurse her in the silence of the night.  I wanted to cloth diaper her bum and wrap her to me for Brielle's soccer games. I wanted to listen to Brielle SING to her. I wanted to smell her fresh baby scent.  I wanted to run with her in one of those jogging stroller contraptions, hike mountains with her on my back - and show her everything I love - and all I've learned in my life.  

Will, Brielle (even Josh & Tyler, though they don't live at home any longer), we all wanted her.

4 days.
That's how long I've had to adjust to my new reality.

Out-pour Poem#2 Day Three

today i am stripped of all pride, all dignity
i must to cling to Your promises and Your words
that speak the truth about me
i am exposed and today i do not care
what does it matter?
i would have given it all up, like You asked me to
i was willing and You knew it!
I was, and still am, willing to do whatever You ask of me.
That damn nacre.
i can grow hard, even in loving you
or i can heal
while You protect me
and grieve with me.
today i shed all pretenses of what i thought i knew
when I was shaken and suffering 
You reached in and rescued me
You saved my lifeTo bring me here.  To give me joy.  
To overflow my cup of life abundantly.
Even knowing my heart would sacrifice to this outcome-
and You knew the pain it would bring me
how it would come close to consume me
and how I would question and wrestle the nonsense of it all
Still- You also knew I would know better
than to be tempted to submit to anything other than You.
By now, I know.
Nothing else will satisfy.  No drink.  No food.  No drug.
Not one person can hold me.  
You always do.
I am leaning in.  I am listening.  I am waiting.
I am searching and groping in the dark.
I am desperate.  I care so much less about everything unimportant.
I care so much less about what they'll say or think
If they'll balk or gasp, or whisper, or feel so sorry for me
Or if they'll even care.  
i am stripped of all pride, of all dignity
what You God - what you alone SAY- stands 
in the chasm of this pain
and I believe You will not waste this.

Monday, April 2, 2018

Out-pour Poem Day Three

Today is raw.  It is fresh like an open wound that hasn't even been assessed yet.  Bone and marrow are exposed.  I cannot see it, but I know it is there.  I am wretched with a grief I've never known and do not understand.  I know that I am not alone.  Others have felt this before and someone may feel this one day.  
When in the deep, deep parts of this kind of grief it is like moving blindly, uncertainly, painfully.  Feeling around, grasping for breaths, choked between torrents of tears.

Ask Why.
Reverberating silence will follow.
There are no answers here.  

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Out-pour Poem Day Four

Today all I can do is crawl up into Your lap and rest
I am tired, so tired
Your arms are wide, strong,
but they wrap me gently and securely

You are clean and pure
Everything I am not
But with You I feel new
like fresh mountain air
I feel known
And seen
And heard
even though I have no words today

I am sad, so sad
Your hand moves over my hair
In a sweet caress
And I can rest here

When I learned to grieve

When we began preparing to move last October, and all of the sorting and packing got real - I found myself grieving.  I grieved off and on for about a week.
I recalled all of the memories we'd made in that home.  All of the seasons of life.  Little boys and legos, Christmases, birthdays, game nights, tears and bandages, bike rides, play fights, bringing Brielle home, neighbors, street ball, and even the growing pains.  We'd moved in when they were five and two and had lived there over sixteen years.
It wasn't the home or neighborhood I grieved (though I did love them both).  
I knew they were just places.
It was the season of life I grieved.  It was over.  We'd raised our boys.  They'd both moved out in the past year.  We'd had eighteen full years with each of them.  And it had come to a close.
I knew all of the things: 
 - they were supposed to launch
 - there's a new season on the horizon
 - at least we still have Brielle at home
Let me say this - I knew I needed to grieve.  I don't know how I knew, but I did.  It was important in the process of my moving on.  I did not get stuck there.  But I did allow myself to FEEL it.
And for someone who feels deeply (and was once very skilled at escaping anything that hinted of unpleasant) this was a scary place to be.
So, I asked God to help me process and walk through it - believing there was another side that brought me out, through faith, to a new viewpoint.  And He did.  He said, "Mourn Beloved.  You loved them deeply, dearly, and sacrificed for their lives.  You will move on to the other side and love them still."
And He showed me that He loved them so much more than I did.  He gently taught me to trust them into His care in a newer and deeper way.
I felt alone in my thoughts and feelings, so I didn't share them much.  But God held me right through it all.  I'm so glad I learned this about grieving then. 
Recently, my bible app study explained it like this: