California IV
The Pacific - Part 4
There is a certain ability, only a few film directors and writers have. The ability to create a scene that ignites a meaningful emotion in their audience. Some of my favorite moments in film are used with scenery coupled with music to capture an emotional scene that benefits the story, main characters, even attaches to your memory.
For example, the scene, I mentioned at the end of Shawshank Redemption. You feel all the struggle of Red and Andy, and (spoiler alert) the joy of their embrace on the beach with the Pacific Ocean in the background as the camera pans away. As a viewer, you feel what the characters are experiencing. To me, this scene incapsulates the purpose and strength of the whole movie without using any lines of dialogue.
Of course, there are many examples in film and books like this, but to describe to you what I saw on this day in July of 2014 as I finally reached the top of this hill and gazed across wide open rolling hills covered in long golden grass reaching far in the distance disappearing into thick green forest of the mighty Redwood National Park. All this set against the Blue California sky. It was like that of a movie, yet better.
Before we began the last leg of our trip, this group of young people were just talking, laughing and hanging out like they’d seen this type of thing thousands of times before. Even in my weakened state, I couldn’t proceed with business as usual by just standing among the group. So I clumsily got back on my bike, sweaty and tired with my helmet unstrapped, holding onto my head for dear life, and I rode to the front of the group where I could find a spot undeterred by loud, unamused teenagers. But as I got to the front, stopping became a challenge. I wasn’t slowing down fast enough, and the rocks on the dirt road made it more difficult by not staying put as I rode over them. I was simultaneously braking and moving to the right side of the road toward my intended viewing spot. The bike began to slide with my body moving closer to the ground at an increasing angle. I put my foot down to brace my fall then I suddenly stopped…with success! Screeching to the front the group, stirring up dirt in front of a group of teenage girls who by the looks of their faces were more annoyed than impressed, to the point one of them asked me with the most ‘eloquent’ of teenage disgust, “wha r u doing?” Responding to her and the group as if I had just pulled into the spot on purpose, “just getting a better look at the view.” I don’t think they bought it, but as the kids say, “Whatever.”
I really didn’t care I was dumbfounded by what I was seeing. I had not seen anything like this in my life. Maybe my emotions were compounded by what I had been through, whatever it was I was immersed in this moment. However, I did begin to wonder if I had quit and come to this point via motorized vehicle, would I be enjoying as much? I stood on this California dirt road amazed, and my eyes analyzed every bit of the landscape. Then far off in the distance across the horizon I could see this darker blue color distinctly different from that of the sky. It was the Pacific Ocean! And that meant one thing: there was more to see.
As the group made their way into this magnificent terrain, I knew I had to stop staring and join the group. We rode through the long dirt road; uphill, downhill, gradual turns and some sharp, some along beautiful straight-a-ways with vast viewpoints and some under the cover of old trees with long branches like straight-out of a fairytale. Drawing closer to our next stopping point, I could see part of the group huddled together looking down off the side of the road toward the grassy valley below. Approaching I heard excitement in their voices and saw what they were looking at. It was a large black bear enjoying his lunch on a berry bush.
We reached our next stop for water and snacks at a high vantage point called Redwood Creek Overlook where the views continued to blow me away. After eating the same thing for what felt like the tenth time in a row, we began our final descent toward the ocean into the Redwood forest. Quickly, a rain storm came on us as we moved through the tall powerful trees, but just as quickly as it came, the rain left. Most of this section was downhill (not that I was complaining), it went faster than I could appreciate. So I pulled my bike off the road and stood underneath one of the massive trees, and lifted my eyes straight up as if to say, “well how big a boy are ya?” Water dripped off the tree and onto my face, and I began to savor these last thirty-six hours to be instrumental in my life and thought process.
While on this adventure, I found out I really enjoyed mountain biking and do regularly to this day. Also, I discovered a renewed excitement for the outdoors, but most of all, I learned a valuable lesson I hold onto still, joy comes through sacrifice.
One of America’s founding fathers, Thomas Paine, said it well, “What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly.” Like the characters in our books and movies, the big moments would not mean as much without our connection to them through their pain and hardships. Erase the pain and effort from my bike trip (or my life), you decrease the joy I felt as my eyes saw what I had attained. There was a cost for me to know and experience joy in discovering something new and carrying its truth with me.
That is why I believe Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.” I carry these moments even the bad ones with me to encourage me to keep growing, keep learning, and most of all, keep experiencing life. To live fully especially when I have to leave the ease of my comfort zone because more times than not, joy is on the other side.
