Phil and I gaze at the Hollywood sign. We are in complete and utter awe of this symbol that has meant so much for thousands upon thousands of people, especially the ones migrating to Los Angeles to pursue a dream. After taking the time to honor such symbol and the path we have chosen, we start our descent. Phil eventually finds a path to follow, and I immediately walk right behind him. The path starts getting narrow and we end up sliding down in bits and pieces. We also hear others’ voices and realize we are not alone. Adults and their children come sliding down the path as well.
Phil takes my hand during the times I had the most difficulty. Unlike Phil’s all-terrain mountain boots, my shoes happen to be my Saucony vintage running shoes, thus, the constant sliding on my part. At least mine have the words “Courageous” embroidered on the side of each shoe. As we progress further down the hill, the incline becomes steeper. We reach a point where the cliff seemed to just drop off. “Oh no,” I thought. “I’m not going down that way.” I turn to my side and tiny rocks tumble down to the bottom of the cliff. However, at the bottom, lay the paved tourist path that meant we’d be back to safety and eventually home.
Proving to be more risky, Phil takes off his backpack and throws it down to the pavement. CRASH, BOOM! There goes his backpack. He signals for me to follow. Though hesitant at first, I inch a little bit closer. Then I slide and stop. Looking down, it seemed too vertical to climb down safely. All of a sudden, a man below shouts at us, saying that we can do it. He mentions that if his kids were able to do it just recently, then we could definitely do it too. Instantly, Phil spots a narrow path, almost a walkway, next to him. Funny, because we didn’t see that before. We go down these stair-like steps with ease down to the normal pavement.
As we rejoice for a moment, we both realize that this trail is not yet over. So we follow the paved way for a while. Somehow we find ourselves down a dirt path. At the end of this dirt path was a main road to the park where cars were driving by. But before we stepped onto the main road, I spot an orange laying at our feet. I pick it up and inspect it to see if it was still intact. Indeed, the orange was ripe and good to go, so I take it with me.
Phil and I traverse the road and see a tunnel ahead. Was it safe to enter the tunnel? Will cars even see us? But we notice others walking through it so we walk through it as well. As we make it to the other side of the tunnel, we locate a giant rock to rest upon. We take a seat and share the orange we just found. Smiling and laughing, we reap the fruit of our labor.
As we near the end of the walkway, we find a shortcut to get to the lower part of the park by cutting through some brush and rocks. So the steep rocks appear again, but we just go through it with ease. Phil helps me once again since my lovely vintage shoes make me slide. He takes my hand, and finally we make it down to the main part of the park. As we reminisce on our the amazing adventure we just ensued, we acknowledge how this whole day represents our journey and that a new beginning awaits. It is as if we were reborn. And then I mention to Philip, “What better day to experience all of this than on Easter.”
