A Swift Kick in the Ass

Growing up in central BC in the small town of Fraser Lake, I have many memories of what some city folk might refer to as a “redneck” upbringing. I can remember in Grade 12 my friends and I were bored and upon my dad’s suggestion, we took the beater Ford truck out for a spin on the back roads. The problem with this was the road my dad spoke about and the road I thought he was referring to were two different roads. His road safe, lots of traffic, and relatively short. My road, overgrown, steep and kinda dangerous and I knew as soon as we had traveled some time down this road that this was surely not the one my dad would have directed me down. However there was no way to turn around and I knew where we were, as well as I knew where we would end up, so I figured might as well enjoy the adventure. Darkness soon fell and we had yet to crest the mountain. I knew our families would be out looking for us and after descending the mountain in the dark through steep switchbacks and somewhat adrenaline rushing moments of pushing through fear, we finally made it down the mountain with only one problem………. ROAD BLOCK. A tree laying dead across the road. We got out and took a look at it in the dark and decided that the best thing was to try to drive over it…..don’t ask me why? I have no idea! With this perfect plan in place we slowly tried to climb the truck over the tree only to high center it and leave us stranded in the middle of nowhere. My dad had a radio in this truck and I could remember his radio number he used when he was logging. So I pick it up, called the operator and called home….. no one home. I called my aunts and uncles houses….. no one home. I called my church pastor…..no one home. I called my friends parents….. no one home. Finally I called Mr Jake Friesen and got an answer and explained to him what had happened and that if he could get a hold of my parents to let them know we were ok.

Feeling good about the communication we decided to head down the road and meet up with the eventual rescue and besides I knew there was farm houses just up ahead. My great aunt lived up here somewhere and I’m sure it’s not that far. Soon enough the path diverged. One more traveled then the other. So we figured lets go down the bigger one, an obvious logging road where logging trucks will be sure to find us. It wasn’t until after about 5 minutes I had this bad feeling. I cant explain it but I just knew this wasn’t the right way to go so I told the girls that we needed to turn around and head back to the other road, and so we did. A while later we saw the light. That glorious yard light that every farmer has in their yard and we cut from the road across the field running to safety. It wasn’t long that we realized that there was a river separating us from safety and just as we were about to turn around to turn back to the road, I saw my dad drive past in our vehicle looking for us. We were devastated By this time is was late at night and we were beyond scared.

I knew we needed to get to that house so we continued on and not long after we knocked on the a little old grandmas house, Mrs Nickolichuk’s home and she let us in and soon my dad had found us when he stopped in to ask the lady if she had seen us as he had found our truck…..EMPTY. I’m pretty sure he was less than amused lol.

We were safe. It was definitely an adventure and defiantly one I will never forget. I found out later that it was a good thing we didn’t go down that other road as it would have lead us further from civilization and also that God had his hand of protection over us the whole time, as the little old lady had informed my dad that earlier in the day three grizzly bears were seen in the area. Had I known that I wouldn’t have left the truck πŸ˜‰ On an interesting note, I will add that our highlight to this adventure was while passing over the crest of the mountain, we got to see what was what I had thought my dad had been directing to and as to why I took this path. His car from when he was a teen on a hunting trip gone bad. Gas tank empty and stranded he and his friend walked home leaving it forever as monument to these connected moments in life we were to share…… Not until after shooting it full of bullets however either in frustration or male humor….. I don’t honestly know, but lets pause for a moment in appreciation if the irony within the story πŸ˜‰

Pause…..

Pause…..

Pause….

I can remember defining moments in life as an adult where I knew I was choosing between two roads diverged once again, only unlike the poem and just as in the story above, I choose the path well trod. Wisdom comes in knowing the paths and having the faith to choose in the unknown. Wisdom is obviously something I’m learning as here lies before me a path. I
knew it was coming. I saw it mapped out. I was prepared. I packed. I planned. I prevented…… or so I thought. So here I stand still, quiet and in reflection of where I’m about to go. Here I stand 5 minutes down that road with that same feeling. I know I need to turn around and take the other route but yet I’m stuck – neither going forward, nor backward. Prideful denial and emotional attachment paralyze me with fear. Fear of leaving behind the known, and fear of the unknown. I know the answer. It is not by strength alone that I will overcome this fear. I just know one thing and one thing alone……

This path does not take me to my destination.

and,

Unlike before when we continued on foolishly without waiting for my dad to come to me, I need to stop, be still and listen. For in those moments of raw truth and stillness my path will be revealed to me and my destination secure.

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