Tuesday, February 22, 2011

we CAN do hard things

My Brother Joe started harassing us about a month ago about a fantastic, hard hike up the Superstition Mountains to Flat Iron. I kinda blew him off, but he was a persistent one and wouldn't ya know it, Monday morning Jake and I were up bright and early waiting for Joe to pick us up for the adventure (secretly hoping to be the one to find the Lost Dutchman's mine). We started the hike admiring the beauty of the mountain before us. It was a nice gradual incline, not at all intimidating. Then the next thing we knew we were staring at a rock slide of sorts. It was in the crevice of the mountains and Joe says, let's go. I thought that beyond that there was surely a nice trail, but alas, we went straight up from there. We literally rock climbed. I now know what it means to do mountain climbers in gym class. We were hoisting ourselves up huge boulders for the next mile or so.
(This was our destination - the rock that looks like an iron or the front of Titanic. The crack on the left is what we hiked straight up! )

All along the way, Jake kept complaining and I was quietly wondering why in the world I brought the whiner. He continually said, "I can't do it. It's too hard. I'm quitting." At one point he sat his butt down and didn't budge until I told him he could stay there, but he was paying the babysitter who was at home with the girls if I didn't get to go to the top. He was up in a flash and off, but the complaining continued. I even recited poetry:

Somebody said that it couldn't be done
But he with a chuckle replied
That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it!

Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
At least no one ever has done it;”
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat
And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure,
There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

(Jake in front of the rock that I thought looked like the Sorting Hat)

That poem was by Edgar A. Guest. I thought I'd annoy Jake into climbing that mountain. But in the end it came down to sheer bribery. I promised him a treat if he finished without complaining. We decided on 3 donuts. I told him that for every illegitimate complaint, I got to eat a half of his donut. By the end he earned himself 2 1/2 donuts. We deemed a few complaints legit as he fell down a couple of times and earned some scrapes on his legs.

The view from the top was spectacular. I couldn't believe my eyes. I love AZ and all its diversity. Four Peaks was capped in snow. There were some lovely clouds hanging low to the northeast, and the whole valley was crystal clear from all the rain over the weekend that
washed all the pollution away.

The funniest part of the hike was when we were sitting at the top just chillin', taking in the views when Jake sat down and said, "My butt's cold." A few minutes later, still sitting in the same spot, "Am I sitting in water?" He finally stood up and sure enough he was sitting in a puddle of water that probably started out frozen. He had a nice big circle of water on his bum. Then he stuck it out to the sun to try to dry it out, but no luck.

After it was all over, I asked Jake if it was worth it. He still said no and that he will never do that hike again. But I say, I'm proud of my boy and the fact that he did something hard that he was
ready to give up on.


(The whole crew at the top - Jake, Me, Dyan, Cassie, and Joe)