A Short Letter Home

Children and fools

The saying goes: God helps three sorts of people: fools, children and drunkards. I can't vouch for the drunkards, but He was mighty nice to the fools and our children this Saturday. I haven't been writing much about the weekly hikes up the local mountains, but we've been joining in rather faithfully. For the most part they've been scenic but uneventful. So, it was bound to happen that one would get interesting.

This past week we decided to hike up ol' Qi Shan, since we hadn't done that in a number of weeks. Michael suggested the trail along the irrigation ditch. That's a regular jaunt where we head up into a village, turn left and follow the ditch to it's end. Since we're always interested in something different (and were planning on taking my sister-in-law on that easy hike this coming Saturday), Yau Neih suggested we take a right in the village and follow the ditch in the other direction. She and I had done that one on our own a couple of weeks back. It was just as easy, though not as interesting. This would be especially true for the students who, after all, live here and prefer conquering mountains over gawking at Chinese farmers and architecture. Anyway, to overcome that drawback, we suggested exiting onto a prominent trail that headed upwards from the ditch route. The trail started out quite steep but eventually we had a break as it curved around a hill. As we started snaking upwards again, the path became more overgrown. We had a large group of students and a couple of them took the lead, if not blazing the trail, at least flattening the grass and breaking off obstructing branches. We finally took a break in a grove of pine trees and those who brought snacks broke them out.

Our family had planned to turn back early, so that we could get back to the cafeteria by noon. There was still time left to go further, but Ga Dai was tired and Siu Wan was fed up with walking through tall grass. Yau Neih and I decided to let them rest in the grove while we ventured up another ten minutes or so. In this stretch the trail was quite steep and extremely overgrown. I was beginning to suspect that Charles, the student in the lead, was actually blazing this trail for us. Anyway, we eventually reached something that looked more like a trail and after a few minutes, it was time for Yau Neih and I to bid farewell to our companions and turn back.

I had noted when we emerged from the jungle to this stretch of trail that the trail had also gone off in the other direction, so I tried to make sure that I wouldn't miss our exit, so to speak. I did, of course. We left the trail at the spot I thought we should and were soon tramping down grass and pushing aside branches. It soon became obvious that our group had not passed this way. It was about then I started kicking myself mentally. Soon the wrong trail turned into no trail at all, so we turned back. About this time, I stepped onto a pile of grass and my foot kept going down. Kind of like when I stepped on a rotted board in an old hayloft back on the Edecker farm. Except this time I had to work a bit to stay on solid ground. After that I paid closer attention to where I was about to step. Soon we reached a point where we could see the hillside and valley below, so we hollered for the kids. They yelled back and, thank you Lord, I could see them in the grove a number of feet below us. We hollered that we were coming and Yau Neih added that we were lost. At the time, I didn't think it was a good idea, but it was hardly the time for criticism. Anyway, I now had an idea of our relative positions and could walk with some sense of direction. We eventually found ourselves on our original path and made our way along. A couple of times we tired to give a confirming holler. The first time we didn't get any response. The second time we could faintly hear Ga Dai crying. It's bad that the child was upset, but perhaps telling her that we were lost had some value after all. Anyway we were soon reunited and happy again...

...for a while anyway. We ventured downhill into the undergrowth and once again the trail vanished. There was a line of small trees that looked like they had been planted to prevent erosion. I followed them, hoping that there might be some sort of ledge that would serve as a service path. There was, but it ended at the edge of a gully. A few hundred feet further I could see some terraced fields and a downward path. I tried to make my way there, backing up and trying a lower "trail" and then having to back up again. It was quite frustrating as we could see definite trails--some complete with buffalo pies--but then have them peter out on us. Eventually I gave up and tried to retrace our steps back up. This also was fraught with confusion. After much tramping about, I finally recognized a small water hole that I had avoided earlier. I followed the trail past that and, lo and behold, the path kept going.

After that, the hike was boring again. The biggest challenge was where to go for lunch. It was about half past noon when we had found the trail and the cafeteria was sure to be closed by the time we got home. Yau Neih didn't want to cook and I didn't want to try and order food at a restaurant without my phrasebook. Heck, I wasn't too keen on ordering with my phrasebook. I dearly wished that there was a Burger King nearby. There wasn't, of course. But Yesterday Once More, the restaurant with bilingual menus, was. Despite the relative expense, we headed there, picking the burrs off our clothing and trying to make ourselves look somewhat presentable.

Later we learned that the rest of the group also had a challenging time getting home, though nobody got quite as lost as we did. Now all that's left is to tell the tale and figure out what lessons we've learned. I mean, God may help fools, but we don't want to push it.

posted by John @ 6:22 AM