I started school a little early as a child, so I was always the youngest in my classes. Time passed. When I became a new ranger, I looked around at the elder rangers and felt like they were ancient relics. They looked at me and wondered if I should still be in high school. I didn’t even need to shave yet.
Time passed (as it always does). I remember being in a park training session with sixty or eighty of us and realizing I was the oldest one there. I had become one of those ancient relics. It was time for me to retire before someone tried to put me in a museum.
I had stayed in good shape all those working years, and I tried to do that in retirement too, staying active and involved. I would look in the mirror, and in my delusions, see a man in his late forties, maybe early fifties. Then I’d turn on the lights and gasp, “Who is this wrinkled old man?”
Now I go shopping in town or attend a presentation and look around at all the people much younger than me. Well, that’s not true in Anacortes, where it seems half its citizens are older than me. Still, isn’t it amazing how young the store checkout people are, or my grandchild’s schoolteacher, or staff at a restaurant? They should still be in high school.
When my doctor said there might be a problem in my heart, my illusions of youthfulness vanished. He needed to look inside. After the operation on Friday, he said my heart looked pretty good, all things considered. However, he said, for the next few days I should not do any vigorous activity, to let the surgery site heal. I could go hiking, but it had to be short, mostly level, with easy footing.
I chose Hoypus Point, just a mile long, mostly level, mostly pavement or firm gravel. It’s a mellow place to meditate as you walk, surrounded by the immensity of ancient trees, ancient landscapes, and the ever-flowing tides and currents.
This is the dead of winter. Maples and alders are bare. No birds greeted me; silence gripped the air. Frost coated the edges of the roadway. I walked slowly, partly out of obedience to my doctor, but mostly to revel in this natural landscape, to be grounded in the wisdom of the woods.
The messages were clear and concise: "You're old, deal with it." Ancient cedars and firs towered high above, some with burned bark, some angled and broken from injuries and disease, but still standing strong, still casting seeds, creating life-giving oxygen, and protecting the younger generations.
A handful of giants had fallen, opening a patch of sunlight that will quickly be claimed by the next generation.
Looking closer in this deep dark of January, I saw that buds swelled on the branches of elderberry, salmonberry, spruce, and salal. The earth is awakening once again. The circle of life never ceases.
As I walked, I passed and was passed by a dozen other hikers, joggers, and dogwalkers, all of them younger than me except for one, an older woman who strode quickly and deliberately. A young couple held hands the entire way as they strolled along, sharing time and intimacy.
Eventually, I arrived at Hoypus Point, where a parking lot has been replaced with plantings, still infants but soon to be a forest, even mature elders someday. Tidal waters drifted lazily out toward the Pass, nourishing barnacles and limpets on the rocks at this low tide. Baker rose above the foothills, a young mountain rising above older Cascade formations.
Youth and age are merely steps along the path. As long as my ticker keeps on ticking, I will enjoy this amazing planet and cherish the magical moments given each day to give and love, whatever our age, wherever we are, however we can.
Directions
Trail Conditions: The road is wet but paved, so it’s great this time of year. Fallen trees have been removed to the side of the road. The shorter portion of trail that is gravel is firm and free of mud. The beach can be an alternative loop route, but long tree trunks lie across the beach in places, and some of the footing is composed of grapefruit-sized rocks, covered with seaweed and barnacles – not appropriate for me this week. Make sure you check the tides if you choose to take the beach route; there are few access routes up the bluff to the roadway if tidewaters cover the beach.
Directions: On Highway 20 a mile south of the Deception Pass bridge, go east on Cornet Bay Road to the very end of the road. The trail / roadway goes east beyond the closed gate. Parking permit required.
By Bus: The nearest bus stop is about a mile and a half west at the intersection of Highway 20 and Cornet Bay Road.
By Bike: Cornet Bay Road is a delight to ride along, with little traffic, though it has narrow shoulders. Highway 20 can be more of a challenge with high-speed heavy traffic at times, and narrow shoulders in places.
Mobility: The Hoypus Point route is ideal for those with some mobility issues, such as I had this past week. The beach not so much. The road, almost always closed to traffic, is wide and fairly level. It is paved three-quarters of the way, then becomes a gravel trail the last quarter mile.
Republished with permission. Read the original article.