Well, mostly because I had fun writing it, and I want to share it with THE WORLD!
But also, because it is about some students, though not in a student-y context... so I feel it's justified. Enjoy!
THE HIKE OF DEATH
Or
Mothers, Fathers, and the Power of Persuasion
Or
Mothers, Fathers, and the Power of Persuasion
It was a beautiful morning at Belle Cottage in the city formerly known as Eden. I sat at the counter and proofread a friend’s paper while listening to Michael Bublé. Dad came into the kitchen, and began dancing (and singing) with Mom to “Save the Last Dance for Me.” Brother and Brother’s Friend were doing… whatever thirteen year old boys do to entertain themselves, and probably applying copious amounts of AXE deodorants and hair gels.
But a serpent had crept into our cottage—a serpent of discord, known to Acadian rusticators as THE HIKE OF DEATH!
A few pieces of background information before I embark on the tale:
First, THE HIKE: Acadia National Park has many lovely biking trails. It has many lovely hiking trails. But it also has several endangered species, including the Peregrine Falcon. So at times certain trails are closed. I only know of one—The Precipice. The Precipice is, to quote my father,
“The BEST trail ever. It’s really hard, and you climb the whole time. The Beehive is NOTHING! I RAN up the Beehive. None of the other trails are hard. But the Precipice is the BEST!
Next time we come, I’m going to bring my gun and SHOOT THE PEREGRINE FALCONS so that I can climb the Precipice—the BEST TRAIL EVER!”
I’ve heard that speech every year for at least fifteen years. Because every year we come to Acadia, and the trail is closed for the sake of the falcons.
Well, three days ago, we drove by the Precipice and it was OPEN! So the second day of our trip was set aside for Dad, thirteen year old Brother, and thirteen year old Brother’s Friend to climb the BEST TRAIL EVER.
Second, THE CAST:
Dad: You’ve just been introduced.
Mom: By no means a frightened overprotective sort. But definitely a mom.
Brother: A thirteen year old lacrosse player and biker and BOY.
Brother’s Friend: A thirteen year old biker and BOY.
(Me: an easily amused chronicler... for now...)
And now, THE STORY:
Mom decided that the Precipice sounded slightly scary. She and I were not planning to climb, but the child of her old age and his friend were. So she formulated a plan. She would make them see sense.
MOM: Boys, you need to REALLY think about this. This is the Precipice. This is a REALLY hard trail.
[boys do not react]
MOM: Okay, let me look. Here. In this book. [reading from ancient trail guide book] blah blah blah… closed the trail… most popular…. OKAY! “Precipice is also the MOST DIFFICULT”
FRIEND: PERFECT
MOM: “Climbers should expect an experience PHYSICALLY STRENUOUS and MENTALLY STIMULATING”
[BROTHER makes a YES! AWESOME! headbop]
MOM: “Iron ladders and rungs help hikers scale up to twenty feet at a time” You got that, boys TWENTY FEET!
FRIEND: YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MOM [persisting, though I would’ve given up at this point]: Listen to this! “PRECIPITOUS accurately describes the trail” PRECIPITOUS!
BROTHER and FRIEND: AWESOME!
MOM: Here! “The trail cuts across the face of Champlain, climbing in spurts, falling occasionally, and always offering ABSOLUTELY STRAIGHT DOWN VIEWS of the area” STRAIGHT DOWN VIEWS!
BOYS: HAHAHAHAHAAHAH!!!!!!!
MOM: We don’t laugh about this! We THINK about it!
[BOYS continue to giggle as Mom continues]
MOM: “Higher up, irons rungs and ladders assist hikers over the steepest stretches.”
BROTHER: See, Mom, LADDERS!
MOM [ignoring him]: “The upper portions of his hike require serious physical work, not to mention a bit of MENTAL GUMPTION” See? [she has been their teacher, so her glare after this line is presumably based on knowledge] “MENTAL GUMPTION to skirt what basically amounts to in places, a cliff.” Do you understand that, boys, SKIRT a CLIFF. SKIRT [indicates with hands what skirting a cliff is] You will be SKIRTing a CLIFF. Do you understand? SKIRT!
[BOYS continue making faces and giggling]
It turns out, however, that a persistent mom can do anything. Because suddenly the whole tone of the thirteen year old sound effects changed. Perhaps, just perhaps, the words “skirt a cliff” do acquire an eerie quality after a sufficient number of repetitions. But for whatever reason, I was hearing “well... maybe… It’s not really that dangerous… is it… hang on, hang on, no, maybe we shouldn’t… well…”
And Mom jumped on that.
“You should look at pictures. So you know what looking down a cliff is. HON! [to Dad] Show them pictures!”
And as little brother saw the first picture he continued with his less gleeful inarticulate starts of phrase, and brother’s friend clammed up completely.
That was where Dad stepped in.
DAD: Well, no matter what, I’m going up.
[BOYS start making sounds indicative of threatened masculinity.]
DAD: Really, it’s not that hard.
MOM: Ern… Ern… Ernie… you need…
DAD: Seriously, Jen, look. Look at this. There are ladders! It’s easy!
BROTHER: Yeah… yeah… there are ladders.
MOM: But you don’t…
DAD: I looked it up. Only one person died in the past ten years, and he was STUPID!
BROTHER: Yeah… yeah…
[MOM makes unconvinced noises]
DAD: Seriously, Hon, a FIVE YEAR OLD could do it.
MOM: I want you to ask a Park Ranger. It says “strenuous.”
DAD: OLD LADIES hike these trails. You don’t have to…
BROTHER: Yeah, Mom… Mom! We don’t need to ask…
[MOM glares]
[DAD continues to look at pictures]
DAD: See this? Look at this! It’s got ladders!
BROTHER: YEAH! Mom… Mom! WE’ll be fine.
MOM looks fairly defeated, but directs some more glares toward the general vicinity of DAD and the Pictures
BROTHER continues inarticulately convincing MOM and FRIEND, and most likely himself that he wants to go.
DAD continues looking at pictures and muttering “really, Hon…. It’s easy… just… they’ll be FINE…”
FRIEND continues sitting on the couch and smiling, until…
BROTHER: He used to be scared of heights, but he’s fine now, right?
FRIEND: Yeah… yeah, I’m sure I’ll be fine.
BROTHER: He rappelled down a cliff. He’s totally over it now.
FRIEND: Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.
It is an indication of just how defeated Mom was, that she just went up and got ready for our ladylike hike around Jordan Pond, destined to end in Tea and Popovers and Delicious Gourmet Sandwiches, and did not jump on this golden opportunity.
EPILOGUE:
MOM and I enjoyed our walk and our delicious luncheon. MOM only worried about them twice: Once to have a mini debate with herself if she should call, and risk startling anyone to his death with a sudden vibration and/or ring tone. And the other time to say that “of course Daddy is climbing behind them. He’s not stupid.”
All survived the hike.
FRIEND apparently nearly fell off the cliff.
DAD took pictures of BROTHER and FRIEND histrionically falling off the cliff.
BROTHER and FRIEND wanted to climb the Precipice, or HIKE OF DEATH again.
It occurred to MOM about half an hour after seeing the pictures that DAD was climbing ahead of them.
FINIS
DVD EXTRA:
Latin is Important
Me: I’m going to be conducting classes IN Latin. I’ll ONLY speak Latin, so you boys had better brush up on your Latin.
Brother [whispering to Friend]: How do we say “use the bathroom” in Latin?
Brother’s Friend [whispering back]: dumpo, dumpare, dumpavi, dumpatum
