We left our friend Paul’s house today and headed south to Mountain Desert Island. This is the home of Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park. We made it here no problem and picked up the kids Junior Ranger books from the visitor center. Then we headed to Cadillac Mountain to do the drive to the summit, which I had previously reserved a spot for during our drive down.
Except due to excessively long restroom breaks and stubborn kids at the visitor center, we missed our time slot. Figuring we could try again the next day I opted to drive the park loop until I saw the sign for Bubble Rock. Paul had mentioned this as a good place to hike with the kids so we pulled into the parking lot and unloaded.
Little One refused to be carried, so I put her down to walk and after a few minutes realized, I’d lost a kid. Mr. Stubborn was nowhere to be seen. I whistled for him (yes, my kids respond to a whistle better than their own names) and there was no reply. Usually, the children come running to me from wherever they are or yell an acknowledgement. This time, nothing from him. #2 ran up ahead a bit and yelled, “I see him Mom,” but he took off running again. I figured no big deal, he’s not far ahead, it’s a tough hike and he’ll tire soon and we’ll catch up.
Then there was a fork in the path – one led to Bubble Rock and the other was closed due to construction. Mr. Stubborn is only learning how to read, would he know which way to go? Now I’m starting to panic more and I start yelling his name. No answer.
We take the path to Bubble Rock and I ask the next people we see if they’ve seen a little boy in a blue Nike sweatshirt. They’ve just come from the summit and not seen him, meaning he could have gone down the other side of the hill towards the lake or taken the fork we just passed.
Now I’ve moved into full blown panic mode. I’m yelling his name and he’s not answering. He could have either gone down the blaze-only, extremely treacherous rock path towards the lake or the closed, under construction path we passed a little earlier.
Another couple of hikers say he ran passed them, but then went around the curve and they’re not sure which way he went after that. It still could have been up the closed path or down the steep trail of boulders.
At this point every possible gone bad scenario is going through my head – wild animals, a fall, broken limbs, unconsciousness – my imagination is going full out. I opt to leave the other three kids at the point of the path where one can either go up to the rock, down to the lake, or back the way we came while I head down the boulder trail. They won’t be able to make it down the boulders easily and this way they might see him on one of the other trails and be able to yell down to me.
After descending several hundred feet and yelling all the while, I hear another hiker yell back. He’s not seen Zachary down that way, but he’s going to alert his wife to go to the Ranger station and then head up to help look. So, I turn to go back up the hill where #2 is yelling for me.
The other three kids are sitting where I left them, but still not seen Mr. Stubborn and a third person has confirmed they didn’t see him on the way to the summit of Bubble Rock. This leaves me thinking he took the closed-to-construction path, but is it even safe to go after him? I yell his name a couple more times in that direction and hear someone yell back they’ve seen him. Praise the Lord!
I race down the path and come across two ladies who say they saw him, but he wouldn’t talk to them. They watched him talk to another couple, but then he took off down the hill running away from them and towards the parking lot. All I can think is at least he remembered not to talk to strangers, but I’m not sure that’s such a good thing at this point.
I leave the older three walking down the hill, while I go sprinting down to make sure he’s actually in the parking lot and not been carted off by strangers. I reach the parking lot and there he is, sitting on top of the truck, laughing and giggling, and talking to someone down on the ground who I can’t see.
My heart is racing, my emotions are a jumble, and this kid is having the time of his life. I make it over with barely restrained tears and thank the kind couple who followed him down the path and stayed next to the truck where he had retreated to wait for me. The lady said, “he climbed up there and wouldn’t come down saying I need to stay here so my mom can find me.”
Of all the rules he could have remembered, he chose the one about going to the truck if you get lost. He didn’t remember the one about acknowledging his name – that’s right, he admitted to hearing me call him over and over, but said he didn’t answer because he wanted to explore. He ignored the rule about staying within eyesight of me or a sibling, also because he wanted to explore. I am thankful he remembered to go to the truck, but I’m also ready to tie him down to keep him from ever exploring anything again for the rest of his life.
It’s been a long emotional day and I’m ready for bed. We picked a peaceful park next to the ocean to boondock for the night. The waves are lulling me to sleep and I’m hoping for clear skies in the morning so I can see the sun rise over the water. Hopefully tomorrow’s hike will go smoother and no one will get lost because I definitely don’t need any more gray hairs.