Dispatches From Overlook Mountain Vol. 3
Letting The Bells Lead Me
A recent hike up to Overlook Mountain Fire Tower in Woodstock, NY, provided fodder for a whole string of stories - honestly it was one of the most adventurous hikes that I can recall in a long time. So, in an effort to give that all to you in bite-sized pieces, this week we’re presenting a series we’re calling Dispatches From Overlook Mountain. Part 3 is today. I hope you enjoy!
By the time I get back to my car after hiking down off Overlook Mountain, I am absolutely parched, literally I feel dizzy. And not because I forgot to bring water, but because I gave my water away.
About a mile below the summit, a young man stopped me in the trail. He was sweating and puffing. He wore sneakers. He had nothing, no backpack, no hat, no bug spray.
“Am I almost there,” he asked me.
“No,” I said. “You have a mile to go before the ruins and then another half mile to get to the summit fire tower.”
“Ruins? Fire tower?” he said between breaths.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Well, I was out for a run,” he said by way of an explanation. “Is there water up top?”
“No.”
He stood there looking at me, wheezing.
“Here.” I handed him my water bottle. “You’re going to need this.”
He greedily took it, mumbled “Thanks” and headed up.
>sigh<
So I was thirsty. I foolishly didn’t have any water in my car, but if I hustled out of there, I thought I had passed a gas station one town over. But as I wobbled toward the parking lot I realized that wasn’t going to happen.
The parking lot was jammed full of emergency vehicles, police cars and an ambulance. Apparently, a woman had taken a spill somewhere up near the fire tower. There was easily a half dozen fire and rescue personnel standing right behind my car. Everyone was speaking rapidly. Lights were flashing. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I sucked down some cold coffee (that had water in it, right?) and considered what to do next, and that’s when I heard it. Temple bells. A sound I’ve heard many times.
Across the street from the trailhead parking, Prayer Flags draped over trees and fencing flapped in the breeze. And bells. Even over the cacophony of the ongoing rescue operation, the bells rang through.
I dumped my backpack, tossed on a new, less sweaty t-shirt, and stumbled toward the bells.
Tomorrow: Sweat and Incense
