On the edge: A father’s lessons on a hike can span a lifetime for his children

I was hiking with my teenager and a few of his friends not long ago when we decided to take a break about an hour down the trail.

There was plenty of ground still left to cover that day, but all of us were carrying at least 30 pounds in our backpacks and we’d found an inviting spot where we could rest on soft grass with our legs dangling lazily over a steep bluff above a stream. It was too tempting to pass by

All our other stops that day were filled with lessons — using a compass, hoisting a heavy pack off the ground, that sort of thing. This beautiful patch of land we’d come across called out for a more leisurely stop, a little time to fill our heads just with the warmth of early spring sunshine rather than outdoors skills.

So we all sat down for some relaxation, most of us shrugging off our packs.

The adults on the outing soon saw the hazard of taking a break so early into a long hike. Our boys aren’t inclined to sit quietly for long unless they’re worn out, and a one-hour hike doesn’t do the trick.

They started goofing around, tossing clumps of dirt into the creek below and then — because a dusty clod thrown into a creek isn’t nearly as interesting as a dusty clod thrown at a boy — hurling them at each other.

The first rule of horseplay is that it escalates, and this particular bit of horseplay was taking place on the edge of a drop that could easily bring the hike to an early and painful end.

“Don’t goof around so close to the edge!” another dad barked. And with that, this stop, too, turned into a lesson.

There are few things teens like more than goofing around on the edge of something risky. One of my biggest jobs as a dad for the next few years is going to be following my teenager, and his little brother when he gets a little older, up to those edges so I can show them how to navigate risky landscapes safely.

My own dad did that.

Dad keeps a pistol at home. He taught my brother and me gun safety, but the gun-related message that stood out to us when we were young was that if we felt like going target shooting, he’d drop whatever he was doing and take us the minute we asked. That way, we wouldn’t be tempted to sneak off with the gun on our own.

Handling a machine designed specifically to kill a human being is inherently risky, so Dad made sure he was with us out on that dangerous edge with plenty of lessons. The one that made the biggest impression was his repeated line that the gun most likely to kill me or a friend is one that I’m positive is unloaded, because that’s the only one I’d even think about goofing around with.

A family friend drove the point home dramatically one summer when, as a joke, he almost shot my uncle with a bullet from a gun that he had been positive was unloaded. I was thankful that day for my dad’s lessons on the dangerous edge he was worried we’d goof around on.

Now I try to follow his footsteps.

I don’t keep a gun, but since I’m raising my kids in a country that has more guns than people, I’ve taken them shooting with borrowed weapons to make sure they learn how to navigate that dangerous edge.

It won’t be long before I have to sit beside them in a car to teach them how to handle the dangers of the road. And then in later years I’ll probably need to be beside them at the dinner table to prepare them to navigate another common danger by pouring a beer and helping them understand when to say when.

I know I can’t keep my kids away from peril. But if they remember the lesson of that hike when they’re tempted to goof around and do something dumb on the various edges of danger they find themselves on, they’ll be all right.

Richard Espinoza is a former editor of the Johnson County Neighborhood News. You can reach him at respinozakc@yahoo.com. And follow him on Twitter at @respinozakc.