In the footsteps of very short giants

Mount Ngauruhoe (aka Mount Doom)

The only good thing that came out of the university course I took entitled “Forms of Fantasy in Literature” was the addition of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy to my bookshelf.  Not that I read it during the class.  Nope.  I bought the Coles notes, grabbed a few quotes from various parts of the books, and submitted a very mediocre essay about the “eternal battle that is waged between good and evil”.  I aced the course with very little effort, which was my whole reason for taking it in the first place, but I sure didn’t learn anything, except perhaps that Coles notes were created for lazy butts like me.

Several years later, in a moment of boredom, I picked up the first book and began reading.   How had I ever found these books boring?  I plowed through the trilogy over the Christmas holidays, unable to put it down and missing numerous family dinners and events in my quest to find out whether Frodo made it to the fires of Mount Doom and saved the world.

Since then, we have all been introduced, and reintroduced to that magical world, thanks to Peter Jackson’s immensely popular movies.  If you haven’t seen them, you must get off your computer and GO WATCH THEM RIGHT NOW.  I’m serious.  You have no business sitting here reading my silly blog if you haven’t yet taken the time to explore Middle Earth.

Bag End

So imagine my delight when my best friend decided to spend a year living and working in New Zealand.  What an opportunity!  Work was sending me off to a conference in Sydney, Australia anyway, so it made perfect sense for me to add a couple of weeks and tour New Zealand.   Of course, my friend envisioned our New Zealand tour a bit differently.  She was considering which mountains to hike, ocean cliffs to explore, restaurants in which to dine.  I was tracing a route that would allow me to see as much of Middle Earth as possible. 

To her credit, my friend was quite tolerant! 

Remember the scene where the Nazgul
is silhouetted on the path?  This is the
spot (thank you bike guy!)

We wandered around Mount Doom, which actually is a very strange and creepy looking place… we visited Hobbiton where we actually got to stand inside Bag-End… we cowered under the road in the spot where Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin hid while the Dark Rider sniffed their trail… we dipped our hands in the water where Aragorn washed ashore… we wandered around Rivendell…  we visited Saruman’s estate…  

The thing is, I relate to Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin - those hobbits who left the Shire without knowing what was ahead of them, only knowing what they were leaving behind.  Frodo is like the prototype for every high school grad who straps on a backpack and heads off to see the world.  In some ways he reminds me of me - I grew up in a place very much like the Shire - a small, friendly, out-of-the way town with endless forests, rolling hills and shiny lakes.  When I left that small town for the big cities of the world, I had no idea what to expect.  It was terrifying, it was exhilarating, it was soul-changing.

Like the hobbits, I owe my own small town a great deal of gratitude for providing me with the roots I’d need to discover my own wings.  So thanks small town.  Thanks hobbits.  You might be called small, but your impact is huge!

So you've come to a bridge, in an unfamiliar land
And you know it's a bridge that you're going to walk on
And the only thing you know, is everything you know
Will do you no good from here on
The day that you spin from your little cocoon
Well you can't be prepared for the beauty you'll find there
You'll find beauty, in the toughest of places
And I will be thinking of you
One day you will come back, with wrinkled hands and grey hair
And there you will stand on this spot and you'll marvel
How the place is still the same - though you are somebody else now
Fly on butterfly...