It’s about Tom Ryan who had a very special friend, his dog, Atticus M. Finch, who loved to hike and climb mountains. The man struggled up the mountains but the little miniature schnauzer just plowed ahead, leaping over obstacles, jumping up on ledges and reaching the top before Tom ever did. Tom always followed Atticus. They hiked all year long and then a friend died and to honor her began a quest for charity: they would climb all 48 4000’ mountains in the White Mountains in New Hampshire TWICE in 90 days - during winter when wind howls around snow-capped peaks, snow obscures trails and barren trees limbs are silhouetted against steel grey skies.
That’s a short synopsis of the plot line of the book. I’m not going to tell you any more of the plot but I did want to put in a little bit of the book, a description of a hike they took after Atticus had been diagnosed with cataracts in both eyes, so bad that one eye was infected and draining so badly that his eyes were glued shut one morning. Now, I realize that this is copyrighted material but I’m including it here to entice you to read this book.
‘It would be like no other hike we’d ever been on.
Although it was spring, the forest was still sleeping. Nothing was green, and the underbrush, in various shades of gray and brown, was hard for Atticus to see. This made it difficult for him to know where the trail went, and he continuously stumbled to the side or bumped into rocks and trees. I could feel his frustration grow each time he got tangled in the brush and had to work to free himself. On one occasion he misjudged a little ledge he would have climbed nimbly in the past and stood helplessly in front of it. I lifted him up.
Watching him struggle, there were several times I wanted to stop and prayed he would, but he knew what he needed. Form the beginning I had wanted Atticus to be what ever he wanted to be. To find his own way. And that was what he was doing.
In that forest my heart broke time and again watching the little dog who used to trot along without a worry. I felt he’d been betrayed by the very powers that put him on earth. It didn’t seem fair that one so pure and true should be robbed of so much he loved when others took for granted what they had. By the time we got through the forest and out onto the first ledge, he had collided with or tripped over so many rocks and sticks that I suggested we turn back. ‘Let’s go home, Atti,’ I said hopefully, and started walking back the way we’d come. But he’d have none of it. Instead he sat and refused to move.
We were going on. ...
There were times he had to follow me, times I was certain he was going to turn back, times I thought I couldn’t go another step myself. And the more he struggled, the more I wanted to scream out for him to stop. Under my sunglasses, tears filled my eyes, and I cried until there were no more tears to shed. How could I not, seeing my friend striving with everything he had to get to a place he loved, doing something that used to be effortless but was now nearly impossible?
I believe he would have crawled up that mountain if he had to.
I have often stopped short when watching Atticus on the trails, seized by a moment of awe or wonder. There were times I’ve felt honored to be able to do that, as if I were watching something truly special and unique, for I have never felt as comfortable anywhere as he felt on a mountain. He was made for it as a bird is made to fly and a fish to swim. Even though so much had been robbed from him, he refused to think about anything else but getting to where he wanted to be. Or maybe it was where he needed to be.
When we finally reached the nub of rock on the summit of Dickey, he slowly pulled himself up to the very top. And then he sat. He sat and cast his unseeing eyes to the wind and looked like a blind king sensing his kingdom below. From our vantage point, I could see several four-thousand-footers, and I imagined that somehow he knew they were there calling to him. Eventually I heard his sigh and saw the Little Buddha settle in. And, I’d been wrong - all my tears were not spent. We sat there for more than an hour - I watched the little dog and he did his soul work. Paige had been right. There was something about that day that recharged Atticus, and me. He seemed more at peace after that and ready for the eye surgery. I was stronger and ready for the fight.’
What a wonderful book. I loved reading it and slowed towards the end so it would last longer. Would you enjoy it? I think that almost everyone could enjoy this book and I’m recommending it to you to read. It’s part Atticus’ story, it’s part philosophy, it’s part hiking, it’s part poetry, it’s part New Hampshire and it’s part how Tom Ryan found purpose and meaning in his life by Following Atticus.
Me, I will remember Atticus when we still have miles to go on the trail and it’s heading towards dusk. Rather than wishing we were at this spot at 2 p.m., not 4 p.m. I will now relish every moment and, if we get caught in the dark, I will turn on my headlamp, slow down and continue on. I will remember Atticus when we summit. Rather than merely eating lunch and heading back down, I will take time to relish having met the challenge and being on the top with a 360 degree view of the natural world. I will remember Atticus on a particularly difficult trail and rather than being annoyed, I will put my head down, shake off the irritation and move forward, remembering why I hike. The elation I feel at the top is worth all the upward climb.
By the way you can also follow Tom and Atticus yourself in their blog: http://tomandatticus.blogspot.com
Teacher Ms Nancy--I now have "following atticus" since your homework assignment!
ReplyDeleteIf I'm crying across Texas, it's your fault. I'll pass the book along when I'm done.
Remember, as you drive across TEXAS, 'there is no crying in baseball.'
ReplyDeleteHave a great time visiting the Presidential Libraries. Should be interesting. We've seen the Johnson but not the Bushs' since we've not been in the area yet. Maybe next time.