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Take the boat, miss the ride
Colleen McGinness
My dad, Collin,
sometimes wears a bronze belt buckle on which the words "Stehekin
is what America Was" are inscribed.
Stehekin, meaning "the way
through," is a small community set on a river at the head
of a 55-mile long lake in the middle of the North Cascades mountain
range. My parents own a vacation
cabin in the area, which can only be reached via floatplane,
boat or by hiking over the mountain pass. Although bustling
in the tourist season, there are only about 80 people who live
in Stehekin year-round.
One weekend my dad had the novel
idea of hiking over with my oldest sister, Kerry, and me instead
of making the comfortable boat trip up-lake. Although I enjoy
hiking now, at 15 I hadn't had much experience at the sport.
And the introduction didn't help bolster my enthusiasm.
The end of the 10-mile trail is
about 26 miles from our cabin, so a bus picks up hikers, most
who made the trip in two days, each evening at 4:45 p.m.
Understanding the importance of
catching that bus, we knew we'd have to book it. Unfortunately,
we got a late start. We set out with a short-lived vigor that
quickly turned into a question of sanity.
The first three and a half miles
of the trail are perpetual switchbacks at about an 85-degree
angle (or so it seemed). Kerry and I genuinely thought we were
going to die.
One bit of advice to novice hikers:
Break in your boots first.
Despite the intense pain in my
legs and feet, our spirits began to rise as we neared the peak.
But, our ephemeral happiness quickly diminished as we began
down the mountain.
At first I was grateful the last
six miles were downhill, but at such a steep incline, it really
isn't much easier than going straight up. As the day progressed,
our tedious downhill pace became more hurried. At about 3:30
p.m. and a couple more miles left, we were convinced we would
miss the bus.
Well, almost convinced. My dad
instructed us to start running. So, with more blisters than
we could count, we started sprinting down perilous switchbacks.
My dad was right-we made the bus
with a couple minutes to spare.
That evening, the bus dropped
our tired, sweat-soaked bodies off at the Stehekin Valley Ranch,
which is a locally owned home-style restaurant with a huge rock
fireplace, tables made with mammoth logs and a dirt floor covered
in sawdust.
Since my dad generously supplied
us with energy bars for lunch, I don't think I've ever been
so excited to eat. We sat there eating steak and potatoes on
a porch overlooking meadows filled with grazing pack horses,
surrounded by mountains and listening to the rushing river nearby.
I feel like I've been transported
to another world when I go to Stehekin. The community has one
pay phone at the boat landing and a one-lane road that runs
up the valley-that's it. There's a lodge, a ranch, a world-renown
bakery, a small grocery store and a church. The locals are educated
in a one-room schoolhouse that serves grades one through eight.
Families either home school their kids after the eighth grade
or send them down-lake to public high school.
Most of the adults in the community
have eighth-grade educations and are successful independent
business owners. One family owns the famous Stehekin Pastry
Company and a construction company. Another runs the ranch,
river rafting outfit and kayaking and canoe rental company.
They don't own televisions; their
kids don't play video games. They work hard, and they lead simple,
unrivaled lives.
Every time I go to Stehekin, I
feel like I've stepped back in time; I feel like I've stepped
back to what America was.
Today's America is a little like our hike. We rush through life,
and tend to miss the beauty that surrounds us. Our paths are
rocky, sometimes dangerous, and there are always those bumps
and bruises along the way.
In an age where brutal videogames
are blamed for real-life murders and kids plot shootings to
kill their peers, it's important that we take time to step back
and consider what's important. Life's too short to forget.
Despite the fact that I couldn't
walk the day after our hike, I was glad I did it. It seems like
I appreciated God's beauty much more after working so hard to
reach it.
However, I've taken the boat ever
since.
McGinness is the news editor for the Collegian.
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