Destination Unknown

The words on the sign were clear. Trails Closed.

“If we get caught, I’ll just start speaking German,” Peter said seeing my hesitation. “Ich vestehe kein English.”

We had been looking forward to hiking Killarney National Park for so long, and now it seemed like we would be restricted to the safety of the main trail. I looked down at my map, and then at my husband who was all decked out in sturdy hiking boots and outdoor apparel. Ready for adventure.

“Come on. We’ll just go for a little bit and turn around,” he said. “Oh, and ditch the map.”

I did a quick scan of the area looking for a park ranger or someone else to stop us; however it looked like I was out of luck. Peter, in fact, had already climbed past the warning sign.

“What do you mean by ditch the map?” I called to him. The entire vacation had been planned more than six months in advance. Guidebooks and maps were ordered and scoured over. I knew exactly where I wanted to go and what I wanted to see.

“Let’s just wander around and see what we see,” he said.

Even though it went against every fiber of my being, I put the map in my backpack.

We began our ascent along a thin dirt trail overrun with thick greenery. In some places it appeared that no one had been on the path for a very long time.

Along the way we discovered clearings that overlooked the scenic Irish countryside. At one point we spotted the majestic Muckross House in the distance, but everything else was simply nature in all her glory.

Scads of irises and foxgloves proudly popped out of the earth. In certain areas purple petals covered the ground, inspiring me to live in the wonder of the moment. I gathered handfuls and threw them over my head, laughing at the fragrant and colorful shower. Water babbled by in streams, sometimes happily skipping and splashing over rocky falls. Even though we had bottled water, we were moved to taste the cool crystal water using our hands as cups. We picnicked atop a slope overlooking the valleys and leading down to the world-famous Killarney lakes.

Modern ears are not used to the serenity of nature. I doubt that I have ever been so far removed from humanity as I was that day. The silence pressed upon my ears. Every so often we would hear the gurgle of the stream, the song of a bird, or the buzzing of an insect, but for the most part the mountain sat in stillness.

Until a shaking bush made us stop in our tracks.

“Come on, let’s see what it is,” Peter said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Maybe it’s a leprechaun or a fairy…”

“Are you crazy? It could be a bear or a serial killer. Whatever it is, it’s big…”

We stood there for a few more minutes before deciding to tiptoe by. As we neared the area, our tiptoeing turned into a full run as the rustling grew louder. We hurried until we were well past the mystery beast. Unscathed, our panic dissolved into peals of out-of-breath laughter.

A short time later the ground leveled out, and we realized that we had reached the top of the mountain. Faded pathways could barely be seen, but we continued across hoping to find a trail leading back down the other side.

We did, but not before the next surprise. Peter’s nose starting bleeding, causing my spare maxi-pad to be used in a completely unique way. For a while it didn’t seem like the blood would ever stop flowing, which left us both somewhat panicked. Eventually it did stop, and we left that area of the forest looking like a crime-scene.

Hours later we reached our hotel room, tired and sore, but as happy as newlyweds. We had memories to share for the rest of our lives. Silly ones, happy ones, and exciting ones that we would use to entertain our relatives when we returned home.

More importantly, I learned the importance of living in the moment. By focusing on my feelings, instead of the map, I was able to delight in facets of splendor that otherwise would have been missed. I also spent the day rejoicing in moments of quiet joy with my husband. This awesome adventure proved to be much more valuable than reaching any planned destination.