RDP Friday: HIKE
So this is all about setting out on a quest. I’ll accept that life is a quest, but going for a hike — even as a group — is just exercise. Unless it happens you have Sauron’s One Ring To Rule Them All in your duffel and you’re on your way to Mordor and Mt. Doom where you and your duffel — and The Ring –are planning to leap into the cracks of Doom.
Otherwise, you’re out for a day of good, healthy exercise. It’s not a quest. It might even be a journey, but not a quest. I don’t know anyone who has quested. Long trips to foreign shores? Yes.
Quest? Not really.
Maybe my mother was on a quest. She was always looking for the best prices on some really fine Italian wool and while she was at it, tried to determine what was the best things to buy in which cities of which countries. Maybe, for her, it was a quest … but personally, I think it was a series of great vacations with a lot of shopping.
Call me crazy. Sue Vincent goes on quests. She has a purpose and she is an active seeker. But she’s the only one I can think of offhand who really quests.
What happens when you come to the end of your quest? Because … every trip, journey, high, whatever you choose to call it will come to an end. You come to the top of the mountain, the end of the path. Even if you complete the final leg of your journey to enlightenment, at some point, it ends.
I hope you’ve got plan B set up.
The ship comes into the harbor and ties up at the pier. The passengers depart, taking their gear with them. The hikers come home, put their feet up and start posting pictures on Instagram.
Even if you find ultimate enlightenment, life goes on.
We were on a quest once to find the great Colossus of Rhodes.
Leslie
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Leslie, how did that quest go?
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We thought we could see where the feet of the Colossus would have been.
Leslie
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Did you find it?
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There are piles of stone at the entrance to the harbour on each side. You could just imagine that would have been the footings for it.
Leslie
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That makes sense. I’m surprised that a bunch of eager archaeologists hasn’t descended on it yet.
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There’s so much history there, I’m sure they don’t know where to start….
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Beautifully written. Love this because it’s true, so very true!
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I think it’s always a good idea to have a “plan B” and preferably, a “plan C” too. These days, we don’t … but age steals that long future from you, so at this point, it’s much more day-to-day than it was when we were younger.
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Yes, it is for me too. I’m not good at the day to day, I’m better with planning ahead. I like to know when I’m doing what! so I can prepare properly. It’s become a thing for the last couple of years. Not good timing really! lol but it is what it is.
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True, one has to have another quest or solution on hand. When I served in the Peace Corps, we always knew we needed a Plan B and, usually, a Plan C to boot.
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Patricia, was your Peace Corps stint fulfilling for you?
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Garry, my two years and three months of Peace Corps service were wonderful. I loved every minute of it. Even though volunteers left family,friends, country, customs,and language behind in exchange for a whole new way of life, we were a close group. We also were living in a civilized country. I taught English at a large university in Bratislava, the capital city, and also tutored two doctors in conversational English during the years and ran English workshops in the summer for Slovak teachers. I became very close to the two Slovak women who spoke no English with whom I lived for my first three months of training. We went to the Peace Corps school for those months to learn the Slovak language, politics, customs, and country before leaving for our assigned posts. I am still in touch with some of my fellow volunteers. They had been in their 20s when we first started, and I had been 67, but they always treated me as a one of them. Now, 25 years later, most of them are married, some with children. Three of them I am in frequent contact with now. Also, I am in contact still with the two Slovak women who were my “family” while I was in training. Those years in the Peace Corps are priceless and precious to me.
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Peace Corps was always something in which I was interested, but life got in my way and then my own physical problems got in the way.
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Now you know two people who go on quests, Marilyn, because I’m off on my big Welsh Castle quest next weekend! It’s also a hike as I’m walking most of it. Plan B is a Saxon tour of Northumberland, and C is a wander along the Anglo-Welsh border to visit all the Marcher castles. Beautiful pictures in this post. I love the one of the yacht in the purple sunset. 🙂
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Yet another questor. I’ve always wanted to go on a real quest, but alas, I’ve only been on some really NICE vacations. As close to quests as I’ve gotten were finding a really tiny stone circle in Ireland that apparently nobody remembered (it was really in the middle of nowhere — small and if standing stones can be cute, these were cute) and in Israel diving to find Roman and Greek coins on the ocean bottom where once there had been a Greek (then Roman) pier that washed away with many long tides. Does climbing Mt. Gilboa to see the wild irises in bloom count? It was only half a day, so it doesn’t seem to be an offiicial quest.
I follow your questing with great delight!
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Goodness, yes, I’m certain climbing Mt. Gilboa to see those wild irises counts as a quest, Marilyn. 🙂 I don’t think the length of time matters – if King Arthur and his knights had stumbled across the holy grail on the first day of their quest, they’d have just got lucky. It’s would still have been a quest, just a short one. 🙂 At the end of the day, you set out on an adventure to find something or discover something wonderful, it involved a challenging journey and you were successful. In my book, that’s a quest. As are your other exciting adventures. Not many people would do the things you’ve done, so I’d say you are a true questor. Welcome to the club, and it will be lovely to have you along for the castle quest in North Wales. 🙂 ❤
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refreshing photos
📷🎈🍃
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Ultimate enlightenment is only for the rich and famous. The rest of us trudge along in our delusional splendor of disenchantment. (Happily so!)
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