Dan Hazen: On our trails, connect with fellow travelers

Published 1:30 am Saturday, October 2, 2021

By Dan Hazen / Herald Forum

You know that low-grade anxiety, like you’re forgetting something, but you don’t know what? I’m feeling that all the time these days. Like there’s a growing darkness threatening to envelope all of us.

Maybe it’s a darkness that makes otherwise dim lights “shine out all the brighter,” as Sam Wise Gamgee would say. I’m thinking about casual, even random relationships. It might sound trite, but when I connect with others in even the most work-a-day ways, it has a dampening impact on the dread.

I noticed this while away on vacation in July. We traveled to Utah with friends and visited four of the five national parks there. The scenery lived up to the hype. We love spending time with our friends. And it was a refreshing break from regular responsibilities. But that unexpected “dim light” shone most brightly in the presence of strangers. Well, not strangers so much as companions on the road. You might even say fellow pilgrims.

While at Arches National Park, craning our necks in awe as we stumbled through the canyon called “Park Avenue,” we found ourselves in the company of a retired couple from Michigan. Moments of wonder were shared, proffers of water made, laughs over footwear and various whispered expressions of reverence were exchanged; in under two minutes. Then we parted.

When we encountered them again, hours later at the North Window Arch, it was like meeting old friends. Inexplicable happiness and irrational surprise ensued: “Hey! It’s you guys again! We know you! What are the odds we’d see you here!” Well, astoundingly high, to be honest. But that’s the point. We were unreasonably delighted at seeing them again. We had established a bond.

It happened with people we met at Delicate Arch, and then again two days later and 250 miles away in Bryce Canyon National Park. It felt like one of those old-time movie reunions when a family has been separated by years of war only to find one another again by chance: “Jedidiah! We had forsaken hope!”

Then there was “Nathan from Minnesota.”

I was hiking Angel’s Landing alone in Zion National Park (a strenuous and frankly dangerous route) when, just before I began a particularly perilous section, someone spoke from behind me. I turned to encounter a lanky, 16-year-old-or-so, young man with a winning smile. He introduced himself as Nathan and initiated some small talk (which, to my later embarrassment, annoyed me mildly as I was enjoying a little solitary time) and stepped in behind me as I continued.

Five minutes later, as we paused between sections of “trail” that required our full attention and precluded any chatter, Nathan suggested with a slight wobble in his voice that, “This would be a good part of the trail for people to hike in pairs.”

I felt that familiar, internal e-brake I’ve come to understand as God’s prompt (sometimes it sounds like a record player scratch) and I turned from my mild annoyance to see the face of a very brave but still scared teenager, who very much wanted, needed to connect, and whom I initially saw only as a hindrance.

As we continue to gain momentum in our escape from The Great Lockdown of 2020, I fear we’re forgetting the lessons we so dearly learned. Our annoyance at having our progress slowed (even a little) lies right beneath the surface and threatens to drive us right back into isolation and over-work.

Or is it just me?

Dan Hazen is community pastor at Allen Creek Community Church in Marysville.