Well, the month of May has almost had her way with us. Most of the parties and events are behind us or upon us this weekend. And soon enough we’ll regroup from all the rush to settle into summer and her slower, steamier days.
To be honest, I didn’t wake up this morning ready to tackle another day or feeling particularly optimistic or inspired. I woke up tired and cranky, rushing from the house to a meeting with not enough coffee on hand. I had a checklist in mind, tasks to tick off, and no intentions of reading a devotional this morning. But I don’t think it’s coincidental that when I got back home and was looking for something else I came upon this passage in Eugene Peterson’s poetic translation of the Bible:
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?
Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life.
I’ll show you how to take a real rest.
Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it.
Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.
I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.
Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
Matthew 11:28-30, The Message
Those seem like some especially good words for the {almost} end of May. And I love how The Message version turns the first verse into a series of pointed questions. If our answer is “yes, yes, and yes,” there is hope for us still. What better time to try and “learn the unforced rhythms of grace” than the summer?
Two weeks ago our youngest one learned to ride a bike. She’s been an avid scooter rider for a few years, but something about the thrill of learning to balance herself on a bike has brought her an untold amount of delight. When we get home from school in the afternoons, she cannot wait to hop on her two wheels and take off for a few laps around the driveway.
Biking suits her well. But her passion and fashion {rain boots?!} stress me out to no end. It’s all I can do not to set out traffic cones in the cul-de-sac and wrap her in bubblewrap every time she walks out the door.
The Spouse has to continually remind me that the only way she’ll get better is to give her space to learn and fail a little. So skinned knees are par for the course. I’m hopeful that by mid-summer we might be able to go biking—on a paved trail far from any traffic—as a whole family.
Seeing her take off on a bike reminds me that three short years ago when her sister learned to ride one, I immediately planned a big outing for us. I’m not sure it was restful, but it was memorable. And it reminds me that rest can take on different forms. Sometimes it looks like a nap. Other times it may look like an adventure. Hopefully my summer and yours will be full of both.
A biking story from the archives…
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The Virginia Creeper Trail — May 2016
We are not a particularly adventurous family, largely because I hold us back from being labeled as such. I don’t like to camp or travel to remote locations. I like air-conditioning and plumbing. The backpack I use for outdoor escapades is made by Vera Bradley, and my “rugged” cooler is floral and monogrammed. I’m scared of bees, bugs, and snakes.
Yet I’m determined to create some childhood memories for the girls that involve the great outdoors. So when we had a chance to get away for twenty-four hours this week, I jumped at our chance to do the Virginia Creeper Trail.
We used to bike local greenways quite a bit before we had our third baby. But we have never before done an all-day biking trip with the whole crew. The Creeper is advertised as a good trail for families because it can be done as a 17-mile gradual descent from the top of the mountain to a town called Demascus. So we signed ourselves up and boarded the Creeper Express at the Martha Washington Inn in Abingdon {which is one of many ways to get to the top}.
Loaded up on coffee and doughnuts, we took a curvy, scenic ride up the mountain. Somewhere along our trek to the summit, I realized we had gotten into a bit more of an adventure than I had anticipated. For some reason, I had envisioned biking down a paved trail while occasionally passing through quaint little towns lined with local shops and cafes. I’m not sure that the part about this being on the Appalachian Trail had ever registered with me. It turns out: these are the actual mountains, not the streets of France.
I took a few deep breaths and chewed hard on my gum to keep from feeling nauseous. Soon enough we were saying goodbye to our driver, putting helmets on the big girls, and setting the youngest one up in her tagalong with all the necessary comforts: namely, snacks. {You’ll see we packed her beloved scooter thinking she might ride it on part of the trail. That was not to be.}
We planned on our 1st Grader biking most of the trail since it was “easy.” You may recall me mentioning that she learned to ride her bike a week ago. What could possibly go wrong with this plan? Well, what went wrong is about fifteen minutes into our ride she started complaining that the bumpiness of the trail {which is beat down but not paved} was making her arms itch. Granted her hand-me-down Huffy bike doesn’t have the best shocks. But we have a name for the alter ego that sometimes emerges when our middle one is frustrated or challenged: Pouty Patty. And it sure seemed like Patty had made an appearance and someone was just being dramatic.
About seven miles in we finally stopped long enough to evaluate her complaints and saw that she had broken out in hives all over her arms. So we did what one does with no cell service and no other options. We crammed two girls in the tagalong, leaving the Spouse to carry a child’s bike on his bike while pulling both of them behind him. As usual, I was of great help in this situation by acting as a photojournalist.
There were several optional stops along the trail for bathroom breaks, picnics, or rest. A little playground off to the side of the trail was the girls’ favorite detour:
About two hours into our ride and just before lunch we hit our lowest moment of the day. You can see the scooter now hanging out the back of the tagalong and our surplus of princess helmets and other headgear. At this point we are out of snacks and/or water.
Attitudes and energy levels were much improved after lunch at the Creeper Trail Cafe in a tiny town called Taylor’s Valley. It’s a wonder what a burger and fries will do for one’s spirit.
The second half of the trail seemed to go a lot faster. And the 1st Grader {mainly motivated by the promise of ice cream} hopped back on her bike to finish out the last two miles or so of the trail.
The whole day the 3rd Grader had a sense of determination about finishing the mission she felt she was on. She was annoyed only when we had to stop to tend to one of her sisters’ issues—be that a tiny insect sighting in the tagalong or a mud splatter. For the most part, the 3rd Grader was our fearless leader and quite a trooper.
As it turns out, the Creeper is not an intense trail at all in terms of terrain. It’s a pleasant descent. However, it is still 17 miles, which can feel like a lot of mileage to little legs or to adult legs hauling additional bikes on their handle bars. {Honestly, 17 miles on a moving sidewalk feels like a long way when young, hungry children are in tow}. But, the scenery and the mountain/water views are beautiful.
I’m glad we did it. I think the girls would even say it was worth the effort. Next time we will pack better: more snacks, more bandaids; fewer bikes and scooters and princess helmets. We may even need a double-wide tagalong with a heavy-duty mudguard. But, we’ll go back.
We have a long way to go to earn the status of being “outdoorsy,” but we are at least trying to get outdoors!
** Since this post in 2016, we have been back for a second ride on the Creeper trail in early fall. The colors were beautiful, but we nearly froze at the top of the mountain! Summer is a great time to go! **
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