Entry #68

Entry #68

Monday, May 14

11:00 a.m. Mother’s Day was indeed a memorable one, starting with David's unexpected wake-up announcement: “There’s smoke coming from that house." He ran over to climb the fence and alert the family living there. Needless to say, I flew out of bed.

Turns out the neighbors were just using an outdoor smoker. David realized this when he got close enough to see (and smell) the source of the smoke. “After all this, I’m going to go over and ask them for some meat,” he joked.

While I’m very thankful that the smoke was a result of charring meat and not an ignited kitchen, I can’t say that Mother’s Day began on the most relaxing note.

Still, it was a lovely morning, with beautiful cards from the kids, orchids from David and breakfast, too. Aidan wrote me a great letter and included some handmade coupons, including, “This is a coupon for however many hugs and kisses for the rest of your life you could ever want.” I told him, “You know, when you’re a 16-year-old hanging out with your friends, I’m definitely going to show up with this coupon. Just so you know...” 

Noah thanked me, among other things, for having “a good attitude about being here and encouraging me to do the same.” On the back of the card was a beautiful drawing of a tree (not in any way resembling the prop he made at school).

Since I get to decide what we'll do on Mother's Day (without the usual hemming and hawing), I thought it would be fun to go explore the Lone Star Trail in Sam Houston National Forest. I figured the hike would take about an hour or so, and then we’d go blueberry picking at a farm about 20 minutes away.

The drive out to Montgomery County began with suburban strip malls, then slowly transitioned to sprawling ranches and farmland. The first town we passed included a remarkable number of businesses spelled with the letter K. In the span of just a few miles, we spotted the Kwik Kar Wash, Kajun Kitchen, Kuntry Bar-B-Q, Party Kraft, Kwik Mart, Kountry Katfish and the KOA Kampground. Ironically, these kooky establishments were all located in Conroe (with a capital C).

Unlike The Woodlands, billboards are permitted in Conroe, and many of them carry religious messages. David spotted an advertisement for 89.5 FM, “God Listens.” Just down the road was another ad, “The way others drive should drive you to pray.”

As we turned onto the farm road leading to the park, we passed a gas station offering “check cashing, tacos, minnows and worms.” It's nice to know that if you go fishing and don't catch anything, you can always come back and have a taco.

We drove through a very poor area with ramshackle shacks and makeshift fences. But there was something beautiful about this area, too—farm animals, neatly tended gardens and vibrant wildflowers. We passed a goat farm, all shaded by mature trees, and happened upon some kids that must’ve been only a few weeks old. 

The hike we embarked on was supposed to be a 3.3 mile loop. We didn’t notice that Noah was wearing flip flops—not ideal hiking shoes—and all of us were wearing long shorts. Within the first ten minutes of the hike, Noah and I managed to get “stung” by a nettle bush that left stinging, swollen marks. 


We continued hiking through this heavily wooded trail until we happened upon a pond. Izzie jumped right in and swam around, chasing dragonflies. “It looks like she’s swimming in teryaki sauce,” said Noah.

We walked for quite awhile and didn’t seem to be looping. But we didn’t turn around, since we didn't want to revisit that stinging nettle bush and simply hoped that the trail would eventually loop around and take us back to where we started. Little did we know that we would've sooner reached Louisiana than our van in the direction we were headed.

When the trail crossed a dirt road, we hoped it would lead us back to the parking lot. No such luck. We did, however, see a blue pick-up coming our way, so David flagged it down and asked the driver, a white-haired man in a cowboy hat, which direction we needed to go. After learning that we were completely lost (but not completely insane), this kind man offered to drive us to our van. David and Aidan went inside the truck while Noah, Izzie and I rode in the bed.


We drove down the main road for what seemed to be at least five miles, at which time I figured we were driving way too far. Moments later, we turned left and there was our van—a glorious sight. I had no idea we'd walked that far.

As we expressed our overwhelming gratitude, the man said, “I’ve lived here all my life and know my way around the park, but [the rangers] don’t mark the trails so good. You’re not the first folks I’ve driven back.” We asked if we could pay for the ride or do something for rescuing us, but he just smiled, bid us good-bye, and drove off.

When we got home, I got to relax for a spell while David and the boys made dinner—a rare event. They cleaned up, too, making the meal all the more decadent.

While bidding Aidan goodnight, he said “This is one Mother’s Day that we’ll definitely remember. I don’t really remember other Mother’s Days, except that we made you cards and breakfast in bed...but this one we’ll never forget. I do wish I got to ride in the back of the truck with you and Noah though. That looked like a lot of fun.”