Part III: The Big Incident

So often I get in a rut. bad things happen or things don't go the way I would like, too many frustrating things happen in one day. I've learned to cope with it thouh. I call it my sour attitude. (those of you who know me well, know what I'm talking about :))Literally, it is a very sour attitude. I get frustrated and let it out on my family. From the little things like, none of my organic peanut butter being left, to mom not buying me a pair of adorable blue suede pumps even though the price was a steal. Though none of these things will affect my life, both spiritually and physically in the long run, they make my day sour. Or rather my attitude. These are the days that satan (yes, a little "s". Mwahahah!!) likes to push my buttons. I let the little things bother me and in the end, I ruin my witness for Christ.

So recently, with Least of These and other events that have the run of my life, I feel like I'm caught in a battle amist what is commonly (amongst Christians) known as Spiritual Warfare. Now, I know that somethings that happen are purely human choice and reaction. (like me not needing those pumps or someone unknowingly eating my peanut butter) But when we went camping, too many things went wrong in one day for it to be anyting other than spiritual warfare.

On our last day of camping, we decided to go for a bike ride and then a hike before heading home. The bike ride was beautiful! The trail was well kept and flowers were blooming all along th way. Mountain Laurel and Flaming Azaelias were everywhere. The air was a nice, cool, refreshing 65* F. The trail went around a lake and the sun finally decided to come out after being cloudy for the last two days. The experience was only slightly hindered by my bruised coxix. :) But overall I had a wonderful time.

So your thinking, "This sounds all lovey dovey! Where's the warfare?!?!?" Don't worry it's coming!

After the ride, we went back to where we were staying and I put on some jeans to prevent ticks for the hike. Ready to go, we set out for the Cable Trail, the shortest, and most strenuous trail in the park. Steep cliffs, boulders, and abundant tree roots made up the trail that was more of a drop than anything else. A thick steel cable ran from top to bottom to serve as a rail, or a repelling rope depending on which part of the trial you were on.

The initial hike down, while difficult, wasn't that bad. When we got to the bottom, (Which ended at a large creek fueled by a waterfall on you left) Daddy, adventurous as always, decided to wade across to the other side.

First of all, there are several things wrong with this idea:

1. The creek had a very strong current and is two to five feet deep depending on where you step.


2. The creek is filled with rocks, covered in moss which the park ranger assured me was over 2 million years old ;). ie, very slippery.


3. We're all wearing tennis shoes.


4. I'm still wearing my jeans, remember!!!!

But Daddy, who could care less, (love you Dad! :)) decided we were all going across anyways. Taking off their shoes and socks, Janessa and Daddy got right in and slowly waded across the haphazard rocks to the other side, taking my little backpack (containing my camera) with them. Daddy also took my shoes (hanging across his neck) with him. I had decided to just dip my feet in the water from the side I was already on. But Dad thought it would be fun if we were all over there.

So, he began searching for a way to get across, where the current was less strong and not as deep. After about twenty minutes, I gave up and crossed father down the creek (don't ask me how I did it, because no one should ever do it at home, at least the way I did it) where the current was even stronger and the creek was deeper!!! What was I thinking!?!?!? Well, I got across with out incedent and was making my way with Daddy back up to the bank where Janessa was waiting for us so we could go over to the waterfall. (This was the whole point. Cross the creek and get a picture while under the waterfall.)Helping me across a rather slippery rock, Dad turned his back for one split second to get Janessa, when, to my utter horror, I slipt and fell, backside first into the creek. In the freezing cold water. In my favorite jeans. That were new. (Yes, this actually happened) I was not a happy camper. Just before this, I had recieved a horrid stomach ache and wasn't feeling too good. Now, I was wet, and cold, and tired, and grumpy. Not a Happy camper at all!!! So I resorted to my sour mood.

When we finally made it to a rock where they had left my backpack, I was throroughly soaked. They decided they would go on a see the waterfall up close. I didn't budge from my rock. I was going to sulk in my own self-pity.

After about twenty minutes, I crawled out of the rock, which was sulkiness, that I was under and noticed that Daddy and Janessa had reached the waterfall. It was beautiful!

(That's Daddy-the tiny person on the rock, by the waterfall)
So after lying on the sun for a while, my mood was starting to get better. (I'll hurry up now.) But when we crossed again, I fell once more. Daddy tried to toss my shoes to Janessa, but they too landed in the water. (I hate wet tennis shoes with a fiery passion!!) So, I had to climb all the way back up the trail and walk back to the bathrooms before I could change and we could go. Not the best way to end a good time. But hey, I got some awesome pictures, huh? :)