A cool April breeze brushed my face and the sun felt like fresh laundry out of the dryer on my skin. I stroked my paddle with the fervor of Jean Valjean and I was ready to come home with a story to tell my future grandchildren. I had set off with a handful of my closest friends to a Reservation where you could rent kayaks, canoes, etc. This was a spot we visited often, coming to shirk all responsibilities for a few short hours, to enjoy a taste of the water we were all so desperately homesick for (Note: lakes and the Atlantic--just not even close). Just weeks earlier, two in our group had detoured from the designated trail to discover secret coves. They made it sound like a hop, skip, and a boat ride journey away to Neverland. Naturally, we all had to see this magical cove for ourselves. We began our journey by going to the border of the very last lake of the Reservation. We followed our leader without question and we found ourselves going under some sort of overpass.
Looks harmless enough.
Being on the canoe with my sweet roommate, Jenny (shoutout to my homegirl), we slowed our stroking to a slow coast to drift through the tunnel with ease. As we approached, we noticed that canoes were significantly more elevated than the kayaks. We also noted that the overpass was uncomfortably close to our heads. Still, we persisted. A little claustrophobia didn't bother us. It was a short enough tunnel. And then we looked up. Around every crevice, corner, wall, and ceiling were spiders of all different shapes and sizes. All different. All with eight legs. So many legs. So hairy. Moving so quickly. Scampering in every direction. And we'll just say I had a bit of a Ron-in-the-forbidden-forest moment. Usually, I'm pretty quick on my feet when it comes to unexpected situations, but I was not blessed with such wisdom that day. I'm pretty sure I crawled from my spot, sat in front of Jenny, and started rocking back and forth while she had to pull it together for the both of us long enough to get us out of there. Somehow she did. Once we made it out and regained some self-control (or I did) we saw we had reached our Neverland. A new section of lake that was unexplored. We paddled toward it and celebration ensued. We hooted and hollered, took pictures, and were excited to be (what we thought were) the first to discover this special section of the Reservation. One of our friends gathered a good way to celebrate our discovery would be to abandon his kayak and climb a tree (don't ask me why - it's just what happened that day). Trying to keep everyone and our gear intact, Jenny and I paddled over to make sure our friend's kayak didn't escape us. That's when I saw it again. Spiders. Everywhere. In the Spanish moss. On the tree he was climbing. And well.... I'll let the video here explain the rest. Spiders fell on us, in our boat, we flipped, and got the whole event on camera. The trek back was equally as horrifying. (There was a water moccasin involved.) It all sounds so silly (and it is hilarious - we still laugh about it often), but I genuinely didn't know if we'd make it back that day. At the time, it seemed like an impossible obstacle, and safety was as unimaginable as Harry Potter and Lord V skipping down Privet Drive together. And alone? It would've been. You know what's pretty neat, though? I wasn't alone. When things look bleakest and you can scarcely lift your head, it is essential to have friends that will pick it up for you. The kind that see the ugliest parts of you and choose you anyway. That drag you out of bed when you can't get up and rejoice with you when you've reached a sweet victory. We weren't made to do life alone, friends (Heb 10:24-25; Psa 133:1; 1 John 4:11). Find those people. Be vulnerable. Hold close to them. And go through some tunnels together.
1 Comment
Charlotte
2/3/2016 01:10:17 pm
I "greatly dislike" (as hate is such a strong word) SPIDERS so to this story I could totally relate. Thank you for sharing your story to include that you are never alone when confronted with spiders or any of life's scary moments we encounter.
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AuthorStephanie is wrapping up her final year of her Bachelor's in English. She can be found curled up with a good book, playing her ukulele, or enjoying the occasional (everyday) taco. Archives
September 2016
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