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"Lauren, we're going to go out to breakfast and then for a hike. Do you want to come?" My immediate answer was no. I hate hikes, especially with my parents. They'll stop to admire everything, including a broken blade of grass, discussing what kind of animal could have done it. It drives me insane when they tell me it will only be about a mile, and it ends up being four. It's not the distance that bothers me, it's the fact that my parents will lie to my face just to get me to go out. I've learned to never go on hikes with them unless it is a FHS (Family Hostage Situation.) It's tough to see that look on their face when I crush their hopes and dreams of having a nice "walk" with their daughter, but the look on my face when they tell me we aren't stopping yet will make them think twice.
This time it was different. Not only did the word breakfast make my ears perk up because I was starving and my stomach had become a beast trying to eat me from the inside out, but it was a gorgeous day. The sky was clear blue, fluffy, white clouds blanketing it. I was tempted to jump off my position on the couch and get dressed in shorts and a tank top. I controlled myself, however, and asked where they were going. "Point Reyes. You went there with Dad a couple years ago," I remembered that day. My dad had packed us a lunch, and we had eaten breakfast at a small diner along the way. We hiked up to the lighthouse, only to find that it wasn't yet opened. It was too early, it opened at 10:00 am. We sat down at a picnic table, and stared at the ocean. He started talking about something, at the time I thought it was useless information. My dad is full of information, and it comes in handy whenever I ask him a question about some random fact, but other than that he rambles on and on about nothing. I spotted a group of penguin like birds sitting on a rock, which struck up a whole other conversation.
The light house finally opened, we were the first people to go in, and my dad made friends with the park ranger who let us in. He told a few stories, all of which I forget. After the lighthouse, we started hiking to find a spot to sit down and have lunch. It didn't take us a long time to find the perfect spot; a grassy area that overlooked the ocean. We settled down and began eating our lunch. We eventually hiked back to the car and drove home, but I will never forget what it was like eating lunch in that perfect spot. I imagined us sitting on the ledge of the cliff, our legs dangling over it while we munched on our sandwiches. I knew it wasn't true, it was just fun to remember it like that.
I still didn't want to go, as much as the memory of that perfect spot called to me. The thought of having to hike to get there put me off the idea almost immediately. I still denied going, and my parents eventually gave up on changing my mind. Then my dad gave me an idea that sounded like heaven. I was in the middle of reading a great book, and I didn't want to leave it behind. He suggested I take the book with me, and he would find me a nice grassy area in the sun where I could read. I imagined myself sitting in that same grassy area the day I went to Point Reyes with my dad. I saw myself splayed out in the grass, soaking up the warm sunshine. I knew I would be so content sitting there, but then my negativity just had to kick him. Who knows how long I would be there, and I was already half way done with my book. My parents got sidetracked with nature extremely easily, making a 2 hour hike a 6 hour hike. They'd get to discussing random things, and my mom would stand there, nodding her head, while my dad gestured wildly with his hands.
The more I thought about the down side to the idea of reading in the sun, the more I was reluctant to go. Strangers would hike by, and I am not good with strangers. They would most likely ask me if I was alright, and then hang out not very far, waiting for my parents to show up. No, I wasn't going to take my chances. My dad was staring at me, wondering if his appealing offer had worked its magic. I shook my head. "Nah, I like it right here." He threw his hands up and turned back to shoving two large water bottles into his backpack.
I felt bad, I really did. I don't like disappointing my parents, but hikes just aren't my thing. I was happy with my memory of my first time at Point Reyes, and I didn't want to ruin it. They left, claiming to be back in a couple of hours. I knew better than that, expecting them to get back hours later than that. They got home later than I expected, around 7:30. I asked how far it was, and my mom informed me it was just under 8 miles there and back. I knew it would be painfully long, so I was happy with my decision. They seemed happy, too. They knew that if I had tagged along I would've been an annoying pest. They told me a story of how a buck was standing about 10 feet away from them, claiming it was an amazing sight. They were happy, I was happy.
All in all, it seemed like it was a good idea that I didn't go.
-PhyscoGrl
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