Spring Break offers a final respite from the grind of a long academic calendar. With classes ending just prior to Memorial Day, a week off in early April gives the over-taxed Kindergarten student an opportunity to sleep past 6:30 AM and forgo daily homework assignments. It’s a tough job, but every six year old has to do it. Add to this the exhausting project that Meridith agreed to tackle, a few days away offered the prospects of focused conversation and the hope of unhurried activity. But the question remained, “Where would we go?”

Most people we surveyed proudly reported that they planned to go “to the beach” for spring break. Some of you might ask, “Which beach?” Well, in our small corner of the world, the phrase “the beach” only means one place – the panhandle of Florida. Whether one enjoys the pristine environs of 30-A (a small highway along the Gulf of Mexico) or the adolescent insanity of MTV-frenzied Panama City Beach, the Florida panhandle will accommodate the tastes of most who prefer a few days of sun, sand and seafood. Like few around us, we chose to move in the opposite direction. More like Abraham in Genesis 12, we heard God say, “Leave your country . . . and go to a land that I will show you.”  So we packed a few pairs of clean underwear, several water bottles, hiking boots, a map, and our handy Priceline App.

Contrary to what you might think, there is great clarity when you leave home with no agenda and a vague understanding of where you’re going. Since we didn’t leave until late afternoon, our first stop was in Knoxville. Though we found little to appreciate about our surroundings that first night, we did manage to stumble upon an unheralded gem the following morning. Knoxville is home to the Ijams Nature Center, an urban wildlife habitat and natural area with hiking and biking trails extending throughout the city and along the Tennessee River. After this surprisingly enjoyable diversion, we headed north toward Kentucky, rather than driving east toward North Carolina. We progressed through unfamiliar territory but found a room available in the lodge at Cumberland Falls State Park. Not only did we enjoy the breathtaking scenery at the falls, we also hiked Eagle Falls Trail, rated by several outfitters as Kentucky’s “Best Trail” last year.

After a restless night in the lodge, due mainly to the sounds of live bluegrass music reverberating from the lobby, we headed east and south toward Middlesboro, Kentucky. “What’s in Middlesboro?” you may wonder. Other than the local Dairy Queen which dispenses an unrivaled banana split, Middlesboro is nestled along the northwestern border of Cumberland Gap National Historic Park. We hiked to the top of Tri-State Peak, where one can literally stand at the intersection of three states: Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia. We also transected the historic Cumberland Gap saddle, where countless settlers, including Daniel Boone, traversed the Appalachian Mountains on their way to westward destinations. The following morning, we participated in a Ranger-led hike through Gap Cave and enjoyed watching Jackson earn yet another Junior Ranger badge.

Though our adventure seems less glamorous than a week at the beach, we enjoyed the roar of mountain waterfalls, the peace of the Appalachian Trail (later in Georgia), and the satisfaction of an ascent to elevations where the only sound you hear is the shuffling of your feet along an empty trail . . . unless you count the persistent declarations of thirst and fatigue from the six-year old that follows on your heels. When his Kindergarten teacher asked for a report on his activities during Spring Break, Jackson recalled the unparalleled moments he enjoyed consuming his first banana split. That’s perspective, I guess. Our common experiences are endowed with elevated satisfaction when enjoyed in unfamiliar territory. That’s the essence of faith – of moving toward a land that you’ve never seen and experiencing life from an unknown and uncrowded vista.