Everyone has a story.  What’s yours?  Roads Diverged is still accepting submissions to our first-ever Holiday Story Showcase!

Here are the basic rules:

– Each submission must be your original work.  Please include at the top of your submission (email only): 1) Your name; 2) A word count; 3) “Holiday Story Showcase” in the subject line, followed by your title.

– Length: between 300 and 1,500 words

– Any genre. Stories may be inspirational, fiction, non-fiction, memoir, or humorous.  Just make sure they’re G-rated.  (I reserve the right to reject any submission, for any reason.)

– I’m looking for clean, uplifting, family-friendly stories that have been thoroughly proof-read.

– First-person narratives are preferred, but not mandatory.

– Stories can be on any winter holiday.

– You may submit more than one story.

– Posting is up to the sole discretion of the blog owner (yours truly), and there is no monetary remuneration for any submission.  This is simply an opportunity to share your gifts and stories with the rest of our loyal readers!

– No anonymous submissions.  Please include your name.

So, pour yourself a steaming mug of hot apple cider, plop in a cinnamon stick or two and let your creative juices go to work!  Be sure the spread the word about our Holiday Story Showcase.  The more stories, the merrier!

Please send submissions in the body of an email (NOT as an attachment) to: HolidayStoryShowcase@gmail.com.  Last day to submit is December 10.

The Huckleberry Creek Trail to Forest Lake Camp may be one of the best kept secrets in Washington State’s Mount Rainier National Park.  That’s because you have to be part mountain goat to hike out.  Yep, the return trip is almost entirely uphill.  Think Empire State Building without an elevator.  But this is one trail that’s worth every grunt, groan and creaking knee.

You’d never guess that a world-class wildflower meadow, gurgling creek and glassy tarn are tucked into the conifer-clad valley below Sourdough Ridge at Sunrise on the eastern flank of Mount Rainier.  Their secrets are revealed only to the truly intrepid or utterly clueless.  Consequently, we had the entire hike to ourselves on a beautiful Thursday in late September, save for one other couple from Holland.  And they were lost.  See?  Everyone with brains headed toward Frozen Lake or Mount Fremont.  We, on the other hand, opted for “the road less travelled” and were rewarded with one of the most beautiful alpine settings in the park.  And aching knees.   But I digress.

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Dog-legging off Sourdough Ridge, the Huckleberry Creek trail narrows and turns treacherous as it juts into Huckleberry Basin, especially through a rock-strewn avalanche chute below the basin.  Past the chute, the trail slims further to ribbon-width as you dip into a riotous romp of Renoir pastels cleverly disguised as a serene alpine meadow.  While the wildflowers aren’t as plentiful on this higher, more exposed side of the Mountain as they are in Paradise, they still paint the landscape in rich floral hues where  yellow mountain daisies, purple aster, lupine, fire-engine red Indian paintbrush and white-tufted bear grass splash the landscape like a Louvre-worthy canvas.

Huckleberry Creek winds through tall, thick grass and plays hide and seek with the trail as it skips around gentle knolls and ridges bristling with evergreens.   Once you’ve reached the valley, cross a couple split-log foot bridges and elbow the creek on your left.  It’s a short walk to Forest Lake Camp.

While its shores are lined with the sun-bleached bones of fallen trees, Forest Lake is as still as the Sphinx.  If you’re part polar bear, go for a swim.  We lunched at the camp for about an hour, listening to warbling wrens and varied thrushes.  Chipmunks scurried nearby as gray jays, those shameless panhandlers, thought we were opening a traveling cafeteria.  We left reluctantly as afternoon faded and snow-scrubbed breezes began whining off the Emmons Glacier.

As for the return hike, well, be sure to fuel up the after-burners. Both creek and camp are well worth the hamstring-hollerin’ climb out.   Just don’t tell anyone.

The best stories are often book-ended by Once upon a time and They lived happily ever after.  Once upon a time there were Three Bears, who lived together in a house of their own, in a wood.  Once upon a time there was an old sow with three little pigs…. A vain emperor who loved beautiful clothes … an east wind blew through Number Seventeen Cherry-Tree Lane.  Once upon a time Gepetto found a piece of wood, Tom and Huck a robber’s treasure, Aladdin a lamp.  A wisp of a happy ending waltzes in the wind.

That’s it, isn’t it?  What most of us want, deep-down inside?  Isn’t that why something stirs within us when a great and noble struggle winds up with a superlative conclusion in which Good triumphs over Evil?  Aslan vanquishes the White Witch.  Kidnapped through the machinations of his Uncle Ebenezer, David Balfour claims his inheritance with the help Alan Breck Stewart.  Dorothy Gale discovers “there’s no place like home.”

Don’t such endings make you want to pump your fist in the air, stand up and cheer?  “All is well” endings to wonderful stories bring sighs of satisfaction.  Where does that come from?  And what about the stories that end with “all is not so well”?  Capulets and Montagues take pot shots at each other from opposite sides of the Verona tracks; Romeo and Juliet are caught in the cross-hairs.  Anna Karenina leaves her husband for the dashing Count Vronsky and a train.   Quasimodo grieves himself to death, clinging to the dead body of his beloved gypsy girl, La Esmeralda.  Don’t they leave us feeling a little… bereft?  Like our map has been misplaced, or we wandered into the wrong tale?

What is it within you and me that sighs when we read or hear these stories?   It’s almost as if “happily ever after” is a yearning etched into the wet cement of our souls at birth.  And maybe it is.  Have you ever wondered why?  Have you gone ahead of your story?

***

Excerpted from chapter 1 of Once Upon a Story, by yours truly.

Read a book recently that’s too good to keep to yourself?  Found a story, author or series that’s simply amazing?  Maybe you stumbled onto a literary “stinker” that rates a red light?

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