I Thought We Were Lost - Melody Cryns

As we kept climbing further and further up the mountain, my sister Jennifer, Paul and me, I began to wonder where we were and if we’d ever figure out where we were or how to get back down the hill to where Paul parked the big yellow car near Muir Woods.

I could feel sweat pouring down the side of my face and twigs and branches scratched me as I grabbed the next piece of dirt, the next twig, to pull myself up, and I could smell the dirt mingled with evergreen as my sister shouted, “It’s only a little further, c’mon!”

This whole hike thing was Jennifer’s idea – it always was. She had talked our good guy friend Paul into driving across the bridge so that we could go on a nice little hike at Mt. Tamalpias – that’s all. It started off innocent enough.

“It’s Sunday, though, and my mom and dad might not like me to take the car that far,” Paul had fretted. Paul are dependable guy friend who actually had a car – whom we managed to talk into driving us to various places because he liked me, and it’s possible he liked my sister too, but it didn’t really matter, Paul the fisherman who caught huge bass in the San Francisco Bay. He was a good guy, really he was. And he had a car.

“Oh, c’mon,” Jennifer had said. “It would be fun to go on a nice hike!” I should have known better because every hike that Jennifer led turned into something like this, more like a day-long journey up dangerous cliffs or hiking for miles and miles while she cheerfully said, “Oh it’s only a little further.”

“This is pretty crazy!” I grumbled and all Paul could do as he struggled behind me was grunt in agreement.

“It’s only a little further!” my sister Jennifer shouted as she continued to climb upward. We were stupid enough to follow her, and I had begun to think we were lost forever and someone would eventually have to send out a search party for us, stuck on the side of this mountain.
But nobody back in San Francisco knew where we were even – and the only tell-tale sign would be the old yellow car parked in a “safe” hiding place close to Muir Woods.

We climbed and we climbed for what seemed like forever, until finally, we made it to a clearing near the top of the mountain, not just any mountain, Mt. Tamalpias.

“Eureka!” I shouted, catching my breath for a few moments as I looked around and saw a huge chunk of the bay area stretched before me.

“But we’re not done yet! Only a little bit further!” Jennifer said, cheerful as ever. At least we could actually see where we were, why ruin it, I thought? Or at least we had some semblance of where we were.

Jennifer led onward and Paul and I trudged behind her like lost, forlorn little ducklings who had no choice but to follow her Mom. It was her birthday after all – she had just turned 16 and this was what she wanted to do. And so what if it was Easter Sunday – hadn’t we already celebrated with our families with chocolate bunnies and too many colored hard boiled eggs, and a guitar folk mass with people shouting “It’s a long road to freedom!” and guitars and tambourines playing. And Paul went to church with his parents. So what was the big deal anyway, my sister had said.

So we walked up a much simpler gravel path onward to the very top because the clearing just wasn’t quite good enough for Jennifer, and when we finally made it to the top, I gasped because I felt as if we were on top of the world, where the clouds are and we could see so much. If we looked one direction, we could see the Pacific ocean just behind the hills and we could see Muir Woods stretched out, and the green tops of the mighty redwood trees. Another direction we could see just about all the San Francisco Bay Area stretched before us, the bay, San Francisco, Marin County, east bay, all there.

So we sat down on the rocks at the very top of Mt. Tamalpias and we gazed out at the entire world, and for a fleeting moment I wondered if we’d ever find our way back to the yellow car way, way down at the bottom of that hill, and how the heck we’d get down that hill – but for the moment, all was well with the world, as I sat there with my sister Jennifer and Paul the fisherman with the yellow car.

(and happy 49th birthday Jennifer, Friday, April 10, 2009 – Jennifer’s birthday periodically fell on Easter and when that prompt hit today, this is what immediately popped into my head)