Last weekend Bob and I flew out to California and hiked up Mount Tamalpais to that special spot half way up, in a redwood glade, beside Fern Creek where the water trickles or cascades down a stony slip along a switchback.
It takes a little less than an hour to walk up to the spot. When Dad and my brothers Ian and Jim lived on Mt. Tam they would hike to the summit from their house on Throckmorton Ridge. Fern Creek is a pretty, peaceful spot where they would stop and grab some water and a snack.
Jim always ran ahead and hid in this redwood tree.
When Ian and Jim and 2 of their friends
were killed in a tragic car accident along the same winding road on the same mountain, this is where Dad and I brought their ashes.
For the past 11 years we've all suffered in our mourning and grief, but no one more than my Dad and Mom. Especially Dad, who raised the boys in Mill Valley, bringing them to the people and the places they loved with a passion - especially Stinson Beach and Mt. Tam. Every February, when he could physically do it, Dad would hike up to Fern Creek in their memory.
And so last Friday, I put Dad's ashes in my backpack, and Hide, Bob and I headed for Fern Creek. The day was clear, the air was crisp, it was warm in the sun and the air smelled of redwood and eucalyptus. Just another beautiful day in Marin.
It's hard to show how stunning the view is from the trail. It's easy hiking, as you follow a fire road the whole way. The road switches back gently and as you go up you move farther over to the East until you can see the city of San Francisco, the entire Bay and all the way over to Mt. Diablo. Our camera doesn't do it justice. The blue arrow points to the skyline of San Francisco.
As we neared Fern Creek I walked out ahead. The weight of Dad's ashes on my back, the sun's embrace, the gravity of the culmination of these three incredible lives... I cried and walked and cried, unable to see through my tears. I shut my eyes to push out the tears and when I opened them, I looked down at the rocky path and this rock, all in a jumble with the others, was the only thing in focus. I instinctively reached for it.
At Fern Creek, through our tears, we lit the beautiful crystal candle Aunt Peggy sent us, scattered Dad's ashes and built a stone cairn to mark the spot. We left flowers in the stream. We said a prayer and felt them there all around us.
I don't know why we suffer the fates we do. I can only trust in the universe and go forward carrying and giving the love they gave me. And I'll always have the heart they gave me on the mountain.
To do the hike:Take highway 1 out of Mill Valley and follow the signs for Mt. Tamalpais State Park. You'll end up on the winding road called Panoramic Highway. Park across from the Mountain Home Inn and head up the old railroad grade fire road until it intersects with the Fern Creek trail. That's the spot. Here's a
map.
On busy Panoramic Highway, not far from the Mountain Home Inn, there is a stone memorial on the spot where Ian, Jim, Eli and Matt soared off the mountain on that fateful day, February 11, 1995. Ian Duncan was 28. Jim Duncan was 26. Eli Kempf was 24. Matt Perry was 22. To this day people leave things at the memorial - flowers, pictures, poems, beers, stuffed animals, all kinds of things. There is also a memorial in the park at Stinson Beach.
Always love. Never forget.
This year for the first time in I don't know how long - 10 years? - all the Welch's were together for Thanksgiving in Rochester. Well...almost everyone. We were missing Dan and Alicia. But still.
Playing Diplomacy with seven players.
Never taking anything too seriously.
Ever.
Boys, boys, boys!
Girls, girls, girls!
Some of us are thankful for good cleavage.
Blessed. That's us. Goofy, but blessed.
