COLORADO TRIP – OCTOBER 10-17 2010
SCOTT’S TRIP JOURNAL
Monday, October 11, 2010
YESTERDAY:
Yesterday was pretty much a travel day. I - along with my Bro-in-law, Scott Henry (hereafter referred to as “Hank”) departed Detroit Metro Airport on time; wheels-up on flight DL 1085 at 9:35am. After a short layover in Minneapolis, we landed in Denver just a few minutes past noon (local time).
We left the airport with a light rain shower falling outside but the patches of blue sky appearing to the west over the mountains promised us something more to our liking. After picking out our rental car; deciding on an up-grade from a 4-cylinder compact to a 6-cylinder SUV (definitely a wise move as we were to learn later as we drove up into the mountains), we made our way towards Fort Collins. There, we picked up the keys to the cabin and visited a while with an old friend – Pastor Tom. We made a stop at the local Walmart for provisions before finally pointing our vehicle; a 4-wheel drive Jeep Patriot toward the Colorado Rockies. As we motored out of Fort Collins on County Road 38E, the sun was just setting over the mountains – beckoning us; enticing us to drive up the mountain-pass and onward toward our destination. The rays of light breaking through the rain clouds were bathing the upper peaks with a hazy warm glow as if to say, “just wait ‘til you see us tomorrow!”
About five minutes after climbing the first mountain grade and meandering our way through mountainside cuts and sharp switch-backs, we lost our cell-phone signal. From there on, we were to be accessible only through a land-line at the cabin or carrier pigeon – whichever one prefers. The sun set behind the higher peaks and the mountain pass grew dark rather quickly. We arrived at the cabin about an hour and some change later and quickly set-up our base of operation. The darkness had already enveloped the area and all we could see was what our headlights had illuminated as we drove in. We’d have to wait for the morning light to reveal the splendor of our temporary home.
We were told to keep an eye out for a bear that had been hanging around the cabin of late; having recently broke into the tool shed out back. So as we settled in for the night, I took more than a few curious looks out the back window to see if there was anything lurking in the shadows beyond the porch light but all remained quiet – Smokey the Bear apparently had other mischief to tend to.
We relaxed in the living room after unpacking – turned on the TV and entertained ourselves with a few old episodes of Police Squad. I still laugh at those goofy ol’ spoofs. About half way through episode #3, my eyelids started to get very heavy. It was around 10pm but my body was insisting it was midnight – still living in the Eastern Time zone. There was no use fighting it so I finally gave in to the call of my pillow and drug myself up the stairs to the dormer and fell into bed. Though my body was exhausted, it was fighting with another symptom; one which made sleep very difficult – even impossible. These old lungs of mine aren’t used to breathing the thin air up here somewhere north of 8,500 feet! All night long, my body was fighting this battle between the need to sleep and the need for air – I felt like I was suffocating at times. However, somewhere in the early morning hours – maybe around 3am, I finally started to settle into a sound sleep.
It may have been my continued oxygen-deprived symptoms or just my eagerness to see the first rays of sun on the surrounding mountains – whatever the reason; I couldn’t sleep much past 6am and swung my feet out of bed around 6:30. I eagerly pulled open the drapes. The view took the breath away from my already over-taxed lungs! Tired or not, there would be no more sleeping this morning – too much stimulus for the senses. I was like a kid on Christmas morning.
THE VIEW FROM OUR CABIN
MORNING UPDATE:
We made a breakfast of coffee, scrambled eggs, sausage & toast while deciding what we might do with this spectacularly beautiful day. As we cleared away the dishes, we had our first glimpse of the local wild life. I’d like to say it was a moose or an elk or even Smokey but it was nothing on that scale - just a pair of blue jays hanging around on the deck railing outside the dining room window. Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t large game but neither were they the variety of jay I’ve grown accustomed to back home. These were much larger than the bluejays common where I grew up; with a very pronounced crest on the back of their heads and a brilliant blue hue on their posterior feathers – otherwise, they’re blackish in color. Their continued presence suggests that they’re used to filling their beaks here at the cabin as the variety of empty bird feeders hanging about outside would seem to suggest. Hank broke-up a couple of pieces of bread and lined the railing outside with the pieces and sure enough; our feathered visitors made short work of the morsels.
While Hank finished washing the dishes I took a shower & got ready for the day’s adventures. While I was lathering up, we got our second wildlife visitor – a family of moose; a cow w/young and a bull passed about 50 yards from the cabin. I can’t believe I missed that for a shower! Oh well, I’m sure we’ll see more of the same.
After getting dressed, I wasted little time in lacing-up my hiking boots and immersing myself in this setting. I walked a sweeping arc of several hundred yards around the cabin – snapping my first pictures and trying to drink it all in. Since I can remember, I’ve wanted to go out west and see the Rockies. Now that I’m here, I feel like a man who’s been dying of thirst – standing before a barrel of cold water; unable to drink it fast enough. Though his entire being wishes for all world he could just take it in at once, quenching his thirst is done one sip at a time.
This place is spectacular! I can only imagine what else is in store for us as we explore the region. Up here, “moose tracks” isn’t an ice cream flavor – they’re found in the ground all around us. As I stood on a nearby rise; overlooking the meadow below me, the aspens were in all their autumn glory with their golden leaves against the backdrop of snow-capped peaks and an azure-blue sky. Just beyond that meadow, in the tree-line of the pine forests I could hear the grunts of another bull moose. Bullwinkle or one of his rivals was still lingering within earshot so my prospects of seeing him would seem very likely as we’ll be staying here all week.
EVENING UPDATE:(We found a bird-book in the cabin this afternoon and discovered the proper name for our feathered visitors this morning: They’re called Steller’s Jays and are common in the conifer woodlands here in the Rockies.)By mid-morning, our plans for the day firmed-up. Just a few miles up the road from us is the Colorado State University Pingree Park Campus – a conference/retreat facility used part of the year for forestry students. It also serves as a retreat for school groups, corporate entities, religious groups & the like. We weren’t there for a conference, seminar or a Buddhist convention – no, of course not. The ropes course looked like a riot but that wasn’t our goal for the day either. We wanted to put a few miles on our hiking boots and see what sort of amazing vistas we might discover beyond the next rise. The campus is situated on some 1,300 acres surrounded by snow-capped peaks – some topping over 13,000 feet. The views there are nothing short of spectacular. The sheer scale of the mountains spread out before my eyes just made me stand there like a soldier at attention as I found myself repeating my favorite word of the day, “WOW!” Okay, so now I understand why John Denver wrote that song, Rocky Mountain High – Yep, I totally get it!
Not knowing much at all about the area, we first sought-out some guidance from the main office on campus. Before we even set foot in the front door we were greeted by a very friendly lady approaching us on a bicycle. Deborah was her name and as it turns out; she’s the conference coordinator and was more than happy to assist a couple of visitors from Michigan. She gave us a handful of trail maps & brochures and took the time to tell us of the various points of interest along the trails and how to get there. We were also pleased to learn that we could avail ourselves of the wireless internet access there.After considering a few options, we selected the Stormy Peaks Trail which would eventually take us to an old B-17 crash site where a crew of eight men lost their lives while training for World War 2. The trail head was right near where we parked – just outside the main gate of the campus. The hike began at an elevation of 9,000 feet and the B-17 site is situated at 10,200 feet. The rocky trail is a rugged climb up some steep grades. Along the way, there are a number of places where the splendor of the mountainous view all but requires you to stop and satisfy your need to gaze while uttering yet another “WOW!” Such points of interest along with the steady ascent into increasingly thin air made our progress slow. Furthermore, we had gotten a bit of a late start so we began to reassess our goal of reaching the crash site. The shadows were growing longer and our topographical map showed that we still had some 600 feet to climb over perhaps another mile or so. Not wanting to be groping our way back down in the dark, we decided the crash site would have to wait.
Another point of interest noted along the trail: we discovered a few bear-scars on some of the pines – where the bear rips a chunk of bark off the tree; his claw-marks clearly seen in the sappy wood underneath. I’ve read that bears, particularly males, apparently do this to mark their territory – I’m not sure if that’s true. They were all old – in most cases, the tree appeared to have been healing over the wound for a year or two. One I’d guess to be just a few month old from the fairly fresh sap still present.
The hike left me feeling tired but I’m pleased to report that I do seem to be acclimating to the altitude. There were a few stretches where my lungs were burning as if I’d just completed a long run. We returned to our vehicle with less than an hour remaining ‘til sundown.
HANK EXAMINES A BEAR-SCARRED TREE
We baked some pizzas in the oven for dinner and are now relaxing at the table; preparing to work on our novels. So with that, I’ll close my journal for now. Day one being a full one; I have nothing but eager anticipation for tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll manage some better quality sleep tonight.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
MORNING UPDATE:
As the sun was setting over the mountain peaks above us last evening, I remember noting that the clouds were steadily building-in from the north. I wondered if that might not be a sign of some weather changes in store for Tuesday. The last forecast I saw, back on Saturday was calling for the chance for some rain on Tuesday – but that was for the nearest town. Up here in the mountains, it’s been some 20-30° cooler so yesterday I mentioned to Hank that those rain showers may very well be snow showers at the cabin were we’re staying.
I looked out the window at about 5:00 this morning and sure-enough; we had about an inch of snow on the ground! It’s now around 8:00 and I’ve had a bowl of cereal and spent some quiet time upstairs with my Lord – reading scripture and praying for His continued guidance and providence. I’m now sitting here at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee and a whole new landscape to view outside. The pines all look like they’ve been brushed with white frosting. Looking out across the meadow I see the pines that cover the mountainside beyond and they look like thousands of
miniature trees from one of those ceramic Christmas villages. Occasionally, the high peaks reveal themselves from behind their wintry veil. I can’t tell for sure from here but it’s either still snowing up there or the clouds are hanging low enough to obscure the mountain tops. Here at the cabin, the snow seems to be finished with a total of about 1 ½” but then again, we are in the mountains and the weather can turn on a dime.
I think we’ll probably stick with our rainy-day contingency plan which will include spending some time up at the Pingree Park campus. There, we can access the internet and use that opportunity to research our books, check e-mail or whatever. It’s just about time to get ready & dressed for the day and yet I’m hesitant to move away from my picture-window vigil and risk missing Bullwinkle & his family again as they take their morning stroll. Meanwhile, our pair of Stellar’s Jays has grown into a crowd since the Scott-N-Hank birdie café’ opened for business – apparently the word’s gotten out and word-of-mouth advertising is the best way to grow your clientele. Today’s menu includes hot dog buns and the Tuesday special: Quaker Oatmeal Squares – Cinnamon Flavored. Business has been good but immediate seating is still available.
1:00pm
This morning’s snow is quickly melting off. I don’t recall for sure but today may have been the first time I’ve ever shoveled snow in early October. No sign of Bullwinkle the moose yet today but Rocky the squirrel was hanging around while we were feeding the jays - trying to get in on that action. We had a quick & simple lunch, lounged around the cabin a bit and now were at the Pingree Park Campus a few miles up the road – writing, checking e-mails, & writing some more. I’m glad we were able to find a wifi connection so close to the cabin ‘cause I do need to do a little on-line research for one of the chapters I’m working on. As I sit here in this student lounge, I’m just amazed by this venue – I’m looking out a large window at the other end of the room and I’m eye-level with some cumulus clouds drifting by on the other side of the valley from us. I figure we’ll stay here & work for a few hours and if the weather breaks in our favor, maybe a quick hike before we lose the Sun.
10:00pm
We stayed at the Pingree Park Campus ‘til Deborah had to lock up the building. I managed to get some very useful research accomplished – stuff I need to write the chapter I’m working on this week. Deborah was such a good host and we thanked her for all she’d done to help us get the most from our visit. Hank & I chatted with her for several minutes as we packed-up our computers. She asked us about our books and we talked about the plans we’ve been making for the rest of our stay in the area. Looking out the window at the sun shinning on the peaks above us, I asked her, “Do you know how spoiled you are to have this view every day?” “Yes I do!” She replied with a gleam in her eyes. We decided to forego any hiking this afternoon and just headed back to the cabin for dinner and more work on our books. I did take a short stroll for a bout 45 minutes as darkness was settling in. Tomorrow, we’ll need to leave early to get to Pike’s Peak and back in a reasonable time.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Last night, I found an alarm-clock in my bedroom so I set it to wake me at 5am. And sure enough; just like clock-work…It started off slowly and before I could throw off the covers and stumble over to is perch on the dresser, the tempo had increased and could swear the blasted thing had gotten louder too – as if to say, “Hey Bub, let’s get a move on. You’ve got a mountain to climb and only a day to do it!”
I wasted no time in getting ready; a quick shower, bowl of cereal & then packed a few provisions for our day-trip. Our plan was to get on the road early and head to Colorado Springs – a 3 ½ hour drive from the cabin. From there, we’d set our sights on Pike’s Peak and the 19-mile drive up to the summit. Also in our plans was a little detour; a visit to the Focus on the Family Welcome Center. If we had time, the plan was to wrap up the sight seeing tour with a stop at a place called The Garden of the Gods – a park which features some incredible rock formations.
We managed to get ourselves under way by 7:00 with the first light of dawn illuminating to mountain peaks above. About five minutes into our drive down the mountain pass, I finally got my first-ever encounter with a moose – a couple of ‘em actually. The two cows were trotting down the dirt road right in front of us. Frantically I found my camera and turned it on. I rolled down the passenger seat window and leaned out as Hank tried to close the gap. We were driving on one of the many switch-backs and were rounding a sharp curve. They weren’t the least bit interested in striking a pose for me and bounded up the steep bank to our left. The only photo I managed to snap was a dark, blurry image of a very large hind-quarter as the animals disappeared into the thick pine forest. Maybe I’ll just claim it was a Sasquatch and post the picture on the internet for laughs. Photos notwithstanding, I was none the less exhilarated by the experience; having seen those majestic creatures up close like that.
A few miles down the road, we were forced to stop. Not by rush hour traffic or a construction zone (Smiling as I wrote that - resisting the urge to say, “na, na, nana-na!”); no, rather it was our irresistible need to photograph the big red sphere rising above the mountain peaks to our east which stopped us in our tracks. We managed to get a number of great shots of that amazing sunrise but they fall well short of capturing the full beauty which was unfolding before us. Standing there; gazing at that scenery, a whole herd of moose AND a Sasquatch could’ve passed right behind me and I never would’ve noticed! As we climbed back into the Jeep, I looked down and saw that my footprints in the soft shoulder of the road were mingled with dozens of elk footprints. I don’t know; it just struck me as profound so now it’s recorded here in my journal.
I’m only guessing here but somewhere around 30 miles outside of Colorado Springs, we first noticed a massive, snow-covered mountain towering above all the other peaks. As a man who grew up in Michigan, my first inclination was to say, “Hey, look at those clouds over there.” I’m just not used to seeing something touch the sky like that. As we drew closer, I found myself captivated by the thought that we were actually going to be driving up there – it’s just not something a guy with my background and experience can immediately get his mind around.
We spent about 45 minutes at Focus on the Family. I enjoyed the various displays; reading of the history of their ministry and learning about their vision for reaching out to this generation. I also enjoyed the gallery where they display original paintings and sculptures; some of which were done by Dr. James Dobson’s father. I found our brief visit there to a valuable reinforcement and inspiration – demonstrating what God can do through the simple obedience of one man to His calling.
PIKE'S PEAK
Before midday, we headed to the foot of Pike’s Peak where visitors pay a $12/person admission and pass through a toll gate. There, we learned from the old fella manning the booth that the summit was closed due to the snow which had fallen yesterday morning. Apparently, their crews were still clearing the access road up there. He informed us that we could drive up to the 13-mile marker (the summit is at the end of a 19 mile drive up). He suggested that we may want to come back the next day as there was no plan to re-open the pass to the summit ‘til then. We decided to go ahead and drive up as far as we could because we didn’t want to burn another travel day tomorrow (almost an eight hour round-trip.
No other way to put it, I was very disappointed that the summit was off the table. Nevertheless, with eager anticipation, I sat staring out the auto-glass view screen as Hank began the white-knuckle drive up the highest road I’ve ever been on. Every bend in the road seemed to reveal another awe-inspiring view. The higher we climbed, the more the road took my breath away – either because of the increasingly thin air or the increasingly spectacular vistas spread out before my eyes. Earlier this week, my favorite word was “WOW”. Today, I added “AWESOME” to my lexicon of incessantly repeated expressions!
I would’ve been much more comfortable as a driver than a passenger. That’s not to say I don’t trust Hank’s driving – I certainly do. It’s just that when you’re driving up a mountain pass with little or no guard rails as your vehicle is guided through numerous switch-backs cut into the mountain side, it adds a little extra measure of stress when you have no control of the situation. What if Hank has been hiding his suicidal tendencies all these years and THIS is the moment he decides to end it all by taking the express lane to the bottom. Or what if he’s still really tired
from getting up so early this morning and falls asleep and…. Sometimes I hate having such a fertile imagination and I ALWAYS hate not being in control so the drive up Pike’s Peak was actually a very good exercise for me; stretching my faith just a little beyond my comfort zone is a good thing…I guess.
As we passed Mile marker 13, we began to wonder if they had opened the road all the way to the summit after all but as we made our way around another switch-back, we caught up with about a dozen other vehicles which had been stopped just short of mile 14 where the park rangers had set up their pick-up as a barrier. We were maybe a few hundred feet higher than the alpine zone – the point where trees can no longer grow. We were almost 2,000 feet lower than the summit but the views there, well above the tree-line and higher than eye-level with any pilot in a small airplane; we were still treated to some spectacular scenery.
We figured we’d linger there a while and eat our lunch. Who knew, maybe the summit would open before we finished. This morning, we’d packed a loaf of bread, some lunchmeat and a bottle of mustard and this was the perfect place to make a sandwich and relax a bit…well, almost perfect. As you increase in altitude, the air pressure decreases. Our ears popped numerous times as we made our ascent; equalizing the pressure inside our ear canals. Mustard bottles don’t have ears to relieve internal pressure. I spread my slices of bread on the dashboard and reached into the cooler for my favorite condiment. That’s when I discovered how mustard bottles relieve their internal pressure…they simply wait for the first dufus to pop their top open. Mustard everywhere! I had mustard all over my hands and it was sprayed inside our cooler not to mention most of the cooler’s contents. Making matters worse we didn’t have any paper towels – not even a couple of napkins. We did have a small travel-pack of Kleenex tissue and a large snow drift next to the Jeep. The park rangers sitting in their truck must’ve been wondering why someone would be rubbing packages of cheese & lunch meat against the snow bank. After getting the cooler’s contents reasonably mustard free, I used a couple of snow balls and a few way too small wads of Kleenex to wash out the cooler as best I could. They say to be careful not to eat yellow snow but the drift next to our vehicle would’ve been the one rare exception – that is if you’d fancy a mustard-flavored snow cone. Besides learning my lesson about atmospheric pressure and condiments, I can also report with full authority on the subject that mustard smell does not wash off ones hands very easily.
Having been told by our ranger friends in the pickup truck that the summit would definitely NOT open today, we made a three-point turn to aim our noses in the down-hill direction; nearly forgetting the cooler that I’d left in the road. The adventures of Pike’s Peak continued as we retraced the white-knuckle ride; stopping several times along the way to snap a few photos. After the better part of an hour since the mustard fiasco, we reached the base of the mountain; rolling up to the toll booth with that same old fella (or as Hank dubbed him, “Old man Jenkins”) still manning his post. A sign caught Hank’s eye as we approached the exit gate, “The Summit is now open” it read. Without hesitation we did a U-turn to see if we’d read the sign correctly. Mr. Jenkins confirmed that he had indeed just put the sign out a few minutes earlier and of course we could drive back up if we wanted too.
Well now, that was welcome news. The annoyance of getting bad information from Mr. Ranger was more than compensated by the joy of learning that I would indeed get to the summit today. So without further delay, we made our second trip up the mountain. As we rolled past our previous stopping point, I chuckled as I looked out my window at the yellow snow along the road. Some of the symptoms of altitude sickness include coughing,disorientation, feeling
lightheaded, or fainting. As we exited our Jeep, I was feeling just a touch of some of those temporary maladies.
My lungs were burning a bit – like I’d just run the 100-yard dash and my knees felt like they might buckle. I ignored those minor discomforts and walked beyond the parking lot to get the best view. It was incredible – to be standing on solid ground yet the earth was spread out before me as though I was already on my return flight home to Michigan. Speaking of airplanes, we saw one fly by – I’d guess it was at least a couple thousand feet below us! I wondered if I might find a cellular signal up there and sure enough, my Blackberry had a couple of bars showing on the signal graph. So I called home and said hi to Mellie from the roof of the world – sent her a couple of pictures from up there too.
We weren’t able to linger up there for much more than a half hour as they chase everyone off by 5:00pm this time of the year – I presume to make sure no one is driving down after dark. We both snapped some pictures and stood there a while just appreciating the view. On a clear day, you can see five states from up there: Wyoming, Nebraska, Texas, New Mexico, and of course Colorado. I couldn’t tell you which states I actually saw but I really didn’t care anyhow – what I saw was…well…AWESOME! We also had coffee and donuts in the visitor center/tourist-trap building. The donuts are touted as something special and unique due to the high altitude. Apparently the oil reacts differently with the donut batter up there – or so their story goes. We’re told it’s the only place on earth where you can get such donuts. Nice story…tasty donuts! 
Before our descent back down the mountain, I made a point to stand on the actual summit which is 14,110 feet above sea level and so happens to be in the center of a field of shattered chunks of stone. I left my perch on top of the world with a little memento: a little piece of the summit in my pocket in the form of a palm-sized chunk of Pike’s Peak. I hope that doesn’t break some sort of rule. If it does, I’m not taking it back up there – sorry. Oh, and I forgot to mention that I accidentally toppled a twelve inch tall chunk of rock off the summit – again, sorry. I guess they’ll have to change all their signs & brochures because Pike’s Peak is now only 14,109 feet tall! The ride back down was like replaying some of your favorite scenes on a movie DVD as we got to see all of those indescribable views all over again.
We did manage to spend about an hour at Garden of the Gods.
The red rocks were formed in layers which at some point in the past, were thrust upward into a nearly vertical position. Some of these rock formations were quite tall (I’m guessing a couple hundred feet) and attract many technical climbers. There was even a local fire department there training for extreme rescue situations. The rock formations are extremely photogenic and were quite willing to stand still while I snapped dozens of pictures. We stayed there ‘til sundown; driving away from the park with Pikes Peak casting its shadow over us.
On the way back to our cabin, we stopped for a quick bite to eat at a Chic-Fil-A and later a visit to Walmart to grab a few provisions for the rest of the week. By the time we finally headed back into the mountains and toward our lodging, we were both exhausted. Today was as full as a day can be and our bodies were saying, “ENOUGH!” As we made our way up the pass, it was my job to keep the conversation lively (or as lively as I could with a fried brain) so Hank didn’t fall asleep and escort us toward the exit door from this life via a plunge into a dark mountain ravine. Obviously, I’m writing this so I must’ve done alright. Somewhere along our route we had another wildlife sighting. This time, it was a fleeting glimpse of an animal as it crossed the road somewhere just inside the effective range of our headlights. Tan in color and way larger than a fox. It could’ve been a coyote except that we were both struck by the fact that it had a more cat-like gate as it slinked into the brush and disappeared. Another coyote-like feature that was absent was a bushy tail. So our conclusion: it was an animal previously unknown to modern man and we’re co-discoverers – I suspect we’ll soon be famous. Yes, you're right - I'm just kidding but we do wonder if it might’ve been a mountain lion – seems plausible but since we were both still suffering from overexposure to high altitudes and underexposure to our pillows; for all we know it could’ve been a golden retriever answering to the name Molly. Nevertheless, I’m sticking with mountain lion as it makes my journal more colorful.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I did not set the alarm clock last night. In fact, I spent the first half of the night sleeping in the recliner chair in front of the TV. For me, our attempt to watch a movie when we returned to the cabin; American Treasure w/Nicholas Cage, ended early. I think the last thing I remember is the stolen Declaration of Independence scene. Actually, that’s the only scene I remember. I must’ve dozed off somewhere during the opening credits. Anyhow, the next thing I knew; the TV was off and Hank was asleep over on the sofa and I’m dragging myself up the stairs and into bed.
I got up at 7:00 without the alarm and set about to get breakfast going. Hank was still trying to cling to last available minutes of sleep. In spite my bet efforts to keep the place quiet, the various kitchen gadgets and food packaging are just impossible to mute. By the time I was half-way through my stack of generic waffles and glass of OJ; Hank had given up on that sleep thing and rolled off the sofa to join me in our day’s activity.
After breakfast, I took my morning stroll down into the grassy meadow to spend some quiet time in prayer and meditation. I mention quiet and I must say that (the previously-mentioned kitchen notwithstanding) quiet here is profoundly quiet. As I stood at the edge of the meadow; leaning against an aspen tree, I was overwhelmed by the quietness – it surrounds you here like a blanket. If not for the occasional bird song or squirrel chatter, you hear just about nothing. It’s like plugging your ears and the only sounds you hear are your own internal biological noises. Well, this morning as I was praying out there I could hear a distant sound – the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the pines on the yonder mountain side. Where I stood, the air was absolutely still; the breeze hadn’t yet arrived though I could hear it making its way; slowly moving down the mountain as if intent on delivering me a warm morning greeting. Sometimes something as subtle as a distant sound is enough to evoke an inspiration in me and this was one of those times. I yearn to know my Heavenly Father more intimately and I long for His guidance as I press on with the life He’s blessed me with. Sometimes, when I quiet myself I can make out the gentle breezes of God on a distant hillside. What I mean to say is I’m overwhelmed with the expectation that God’s plans for me and my family are going to be fulfilled as surely as the approaching wind will soon be blowing across the dry grasses of that mountain meadow.
Hank and I were both dragging a bit this morning, we packed a lot into yesterday; we’ve packed a lot into the whole week thus far. So we relaxed our tempo a just a bit as we readied ourselves for our next adventure. Tired or not, our plan was to make another attempt at reaching that B-17 crash site this afternoon so we did need to get underway before too long or we’d miss our window of opportunity. We packed our backpack with some fruit, trail mix and the all-important H₂0 bottles. Oh-and the trail maps. We were told by Deborah the other day that the site could be a bit difficult to find so I wanted every scrap of info available regarding the trails and land marks we’d need to negotiate.
We set foot on the Stormy Peaks trail head just a little before 1:00 and tried to establish a quicker pace than we had on our previous hike up there. That pace lasted maybe 15 minutes before our bodies expressed other intentions. Some of the hike involves moderately difficult grades and terrain and so I kept a close eye on our progress – following our route on the topographical map we picked up back on Monday and using a timer to plot our position/progress. After about 2 hours and twenty minutes, we finally stepped from the pines and onto a large boulder field; maybe a thousand feet shy of the top of the 12,148 foot mountain we were on.
All afternoon I had been concentrating on navigating to the crash site and hadn’t given much thought about our destination or how it might affect me once we saw it. So I wasn’t really prepared for the overwhelmingly solemn feeling I had as I saw the first piece of wreckage – knowing that those eight young men died there in the effort to keep us free from the tyranny threatening our nation during WW II. The literature that Deborah gave us said that the oldest airman on that ill-fated flight was only 25. The flight had originated from Rapid City SD on October 18, 1943 and was on a night training mission when for some reason it failed to clear the mountain.
Today is nearly 67 years to the day since the plane crashed and I regret that we hadn’t thought to take some sort of memorial with us – perhaps eight flags might’ve been appropriate. Walking out into the crash site, we measured our steps carefully as the terrain was very difficult – a steep mountainside covered with jagged metal pieces strewn over perhaps an acre or so and mingled with sharp, snow-covered stones ranging from tennis ball to refrigerator size. Some of the pieces of wreckage were identifiable: a main landing gear, part of a wing/engine mount, and an engine. We explored the area for at least a half hour and then began our hike back down to the Jeep. Thankfully, the Stormy Peaks Trail wasn’t uphill in both directions like the ones my Dad used to hike when he was young!
Well, a couple of tired old fellas walked off the trail and toward their vehicle; just as the sun was setting behind Comanche Peak. We’re now back in the cabin; having finished dinner and our writing for the day – that is, once I’ve typed the final period for this journal entry. Hank has made our movie selection for this evening’s entertainment: Grumpy Old Men. There’s probably something profoundly witty I could write about that if I sit here a moment and give it some thought but I think I’ll just proceed on to that fore-mentioned period. (That was it)
Friday, October 16, 2010
I slept in just a bit today; woke up a little after 7:00 and finally rolled out of bed just before 8 – still at bit tired from yesterday’s hike. I did some work on my novel ‘til mid day; aided by the dial-up internet access that Hank managed to rig for us. I needed to do a little research for the chapter I’m currently writing. Then after lunch we embarked on another day- trip – this time, to Estes Park. Funny thing is, Estes Park is only about thirteen miles from our lodging – that is, as the crow flies – assuming of course that a crow can clear a 13,000 foot mountain or two. Unfortunately, there aren’t any roads directly from here to there and I can say without hesitation that our little rental jeep can’t clear a 13,000 mountain – not even in four wheel drive! So, our destination - which back home would be equivalent to a trip to Walmart & back - here is a four-hour round trip down the mountain pass and back-up another. The trade-off is worth it though; some of the most jaw-dropping scenery God has put together on Earth.
It was another beautiful, cloudless day. In fact, we haven’t seen a cloud in the sky since Wednesday. Well – okay, to be truthful, I did see a small cloud hovering over a mountain top. It lingered there for a while but got lonely - couldn’t find any friends to hang with so it left without even saying goodbye. The people who live in Estes Park are so spoiled; I wonder if they even know it. I mean the scenery there – it’s indescribably beautiful and those folks just live out their daily lives surrounded by it – probably oblivious to it. Normal for them is what so many folks travel for thousands of miles to gaze at – trying to soak-up as much as they can before returning home to their own brand of “normal”.
To some degree, I myself have become normalized to the scenery here in the Rockies of Colorado. We’ve seen a lot of indescribable beauty here this past week and so Estes Park looks somewhat like just more of the same to me. Yet, I’ve not gotten to point where each new mountain peak or deep ravine or unique rock out-cropping fails to turn my head and cause me to stare. I doubt I’d ever get so spoiled that I didn’t notice such things any more but I wouldn’t mind staying here long enough to prove that theory.
Among the things we saw in Estes Park: More Elk than you can shake a stick at and Bear Lake – a Chrystal-clear body of water set against the backdrop of the snow-capped mountain peaks of Rocky Mountain National Park. We didn’t have a lot of time to explore the area due to our late start today but we managed see quite a bit before dark. After a few hours, the sun hid itself behind a high peak so we decided to give chase as the lower elevations in the shadow of the mountains were already embracing the darkness of nightfall.
Route 34, A.K.A. Trail Ridge Road cuts its way up into the mountains of the Mummy Range to the west of Estes Park. According to the Nation Audubon Society’s field guide I had with me, Trail Ridge Road is the “highest paved through-route in the nation; reaches elevations of 12,183 feet and traverses about 11 miles of tundra along its 44 mile length”. Tundra – schmundra; we just wanted to see the sunset over the western Rockies. We managed to drive up out of the darkness that had already settled into the valley below; our ears popping all the way, finally catching a glimpse of what we were chasing. The high peaks to our west silhouetted against a purple/pink sky. No, we didn’t quite catch up with the sun before it bade the area a warm farewell, but it was still worth the effort as we were rewarded with a view of those lingering hues as they faded into the cloudless horizon. It was cold up there and we were only wearing light clothing. Nevertheless, we stopped at a couple of overlooks to enjoy our lofty vista. To our east, we could see the lights of the village of Estes Park nestled between the mountains below and beyond; spread our before us were lights of other towns or cities – perhaps Fort Collins; we weren’t really sure which.
We didn’t linger there too long. Hank wasn’t looking forward to yet another white-knuckled ride down a mountain road – this time in the dark. Just like at Pike’s Peak the other day, your stomach gets all fluttery as you peer over the edge of the road and into the seemingly bottomless void just beyond the edge of the pavement. If I were to spit out my window, some poor fella 4,000 feet below might think rain’s-a-commin’. Hank hugged the center line all the way back down and I really didn’t mind that at all. Once we landed safely in the valley below, I assisted him in prying his fingers from the steering wheel. As we made our way back though the park, we were nearly run off the road by a small herd of elk convinced of greener grass on the other side. One of the bulls in that bunch was HUGE! One other wildlife honorable mention: I saw a number of interesting black & white birds hanging around us while walking the trail to Bear Lake. Later, I looked them up in our trusty cabin coffee table bird-book and identified them as Black-Billed Magpies. I’m not sure what I’ll ever do with that piece of trivia but if the subject of Black-Billed Magpies ever comes up during a casual conversation, I’ll be prepared.
We stopped-off for a drive-through dinner, refueled the Jeep with some over-priced gasoline and reset the GPS to guide us back to our home away from home. Good ‘ol Garmin knew the way and we rolled up to the cabin just before 10:00; deciding to relax the rest of the evening…which we did. I’m in a bit of a reflective mood as this is our last night sleeping here. Tomorrow, we’ll spend the night in the home of an old friend – Pastor Tom Elliot & his family invited us to bed down at their place. This will give us a chance to visit with them and it’ll be an easier morning for us as we’ll only be an hour from Denver and our flight home to Michigan.
What a week this been – my words written here and the hundreds of photos Hank & I took fail to truly capture what can only be experienced first-hand. Nevertheless, I’m glad I’ve made the effort to document the trip as best I could. For one thing, it’s good exercise for me as I’m trying to hone my writing skills and I’m also sure it’ll help me relive the experience for years to come as my account will surely pry-up some memories that otherwise would get lost somewhere in my aging cranium.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
MORNING:
I slept in ‘til 8:00 again today – just because I could. I left the drapes drawn with the window open all night. The cool mountain air was a welcome companion as I fell asleep. The morning sun lit up the snowy top of Comanche Peak and the light reflecting our way filled my room – that was my alarm clock today.
We cleared away our breakfast dishes a while ago and have begun some of our packing. We’ve got a couple of loads of laundry out of the way and I’m now working on my journal (in case you hadn’t figured that on your own). After this brief update, I’m going outside to take a stroll with the One who created all this natural splendor and then I’ll get back to working on my novel. Chapter one is going quite well and I hope to have it at least outlined if not completely rough-drafted before heading home tomorrow.
AFTERNOON:
We had set a goal to be on the road and headed out of the mountains toward the Elliot’s home by 4:00. At half-past four we were still waiting for the last load of laundry to dry. We went through the checklist for closing down the cabin and finally; the laundry dried & folded, we bade farewell to the cabin that we’d been calling home all week. It was a little past 5:00 when I locked the gate at the driveway for the last time and we began our drive down the mountain pass which by now has become a familiar route. Along the way I saw one more example of wildlife worth a mention; a mule deer – the doe was grazing along the roadway and paid no attention to the muddy Jeep rolling past her. All way down from the mountains, I kept hoping for a glimpse of one remaining hold-out; a big horned sheep. I scanned the rocky hillsides rolling by but never did see one – well, maybe next time.
We arrived at the Elliot home a little after six just in time for the Ohio State vs. Wisconsin half-time – Tom’s a big OSU fan. As we walked through the front door, he looked like someone had just run over the family dog or maybe was suffering with a bout of acute appendicitis so I quickly deduced that things weren’t going well for the Buckeyes. Indeed not – the Badgers had a 21 – 3 lead going into the locker room. Hank & I resisted our deep inner urges to sing Hail to the Victors as we set our luggage down. That would just be too cruel and probably not in our best interests anyway. So as we all gathered in the Elliot’s living room, for the first (and likely only) time ever, I was rooting for the Ohio State Buckeyes – or at least pretending to for the sake our gracious hosts. Not that it mattered; OSU eventually lost the game so Hank & I did our best to console Tom with some good fellowship. We had a nice dinner and enjoyed our visit with the Elliots. It’s now around 11:30 and I’m settling-in for the night. I’ll be sleeping in their finished basement; on an inflatable bed with an Ohio State comforter on top. Well, I suppose I can tolerate it for one night!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Denver Airport:
We said our goodbyes and departed the Elliot’s home at 8:00 this morning. I enjoyed the opportunity to reconnect with them last night. It’s been quite a while since I talked with Pastor Tom and I don’t recall ever having the occasion to have an in-depth conversation with him before as we only attended his church for a brief time. That was back a few years when we first moved to Howell. It was good to get to know him a little better and it was also encouraging to learn of the Elliot’s story regarding their move out to Colorado last year. God has blessed them and carried them through some difficult times.
On our way to the airport, we had to turn-in the rental car. Our little Jeep probably weighed an extra 100 pounds due to the dried mud that clung to its body panels. After that snow back on Tuesday, some of those mountain roads we drove got pretty sloppy. The Thrifty Rental check-in dude walked around the vehicle with his handy-dandy little electronic vehicle check-in gadget. He reminded me of Geordi Laforge from Star Trek with his tricorder (for all you non-trekkies, he looked like the Fedex guy with his package-tracking doohickey). I could imagine him reviewing the gadget’s display screen, “Hmm, we’ve got soil-matches from Pikes Peak, the mountains west of Fort Collins and Estes Park…some lingering fast-food residue and…What’s this – an unusually high reading for the presence of mustard?..Fascinating!” After Geordi had had a good look at the mess we’d just drove through the gate, I half-expected him to set his phaser on ‘stun’ and blast us both. Apparently he’s seen worse – didn’t even bat an eye as we grabbed our luggage and made a b-line for the shuttle bus to the airport which was just about to roll away from the curb.
The security line at the Denver Airport was quite long but we had left early enough to give us a decent time-cushion between those homeland security folks and our boarding gate. It’s now about 10:30 Mountain Time and we’ll begin boarding in about 20 minutes. We’re expecting a 3-hour lay-over in Minneapolis before our connecting flight takes us the rest of the way. I’m missing Melanie & the kids very much and can hardly wait for their embraces and to hear the word, “DADDY!” again. This has been the longest I’ve ever been away from my family and Mel told me that some of the kids have been crying for me at bed-time the past few nights. That’s enough to melt this daddy’s heart and compel me home no matter how many miles there are between us.
Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport:
It’s nearly 3:00pm (central time) and we’ve got a few hours to kill. We’re spending some of our Twin Cities lay-over at an airport restaurant – Chili’s. We’re due to start boarding our flight to Detroit at 5:05 local time. If Melanie knew where we were eating, she’d also know what I just ordered: Fajitas – combo w/steak & chicken. I should really try to stop being so predictable. While we wait for our dinners, we’re just sittin’ here at our table; munching chips & salsa while making a journal entry.
Delta flight 1708 departed on time this morning and as the wheels of our plane left the runway back in Denver, I couldn’t help but think about the view from the top of Pike’s Peak. Judging from how the houses and pastures looked from my seat in row 33C, I’d say it took a full three or four minutes before our Boeing 757 had climbed higher than that muddy rental jeep had a few days ago when we drove it to the summit.
Final Thoughts from Home:
As we boarded our flight to Detroit, we learned that they had reassigned our seats. Originally, Hank & I were seated across the Isle from each other – 29C & D but for some reason, our original plane – another 757 – was substituted with a wide-body Airbus A330 so we were split-up for the final leg of our journey. As I boarded the plane, I saw the pilot with a copy of Airbus A330 for Dummies tucked under his arm. The flight crew seemed a bit out of their element as the lead flight attendant had trouble figuring out how to work the video screen announcements. Each seat back had a video screen so we could watch the looping useless information in multiple languages. Okay, you’re right -- I was kidding about the pilot and the flight attendants did eventually manage to get those video screens to function properly – although I couldn’t figure out why mine was a blank screen while everyone else was watching an in-flight movie or tracking our plane’s progress on a cool map of our flight. Finally, about ten minutes before we landed, I noticed the little hand-held remote for my video screen tucked into my arm-rest. That little ‘aha’-moment came about an hour too late to be of any use to me. The last time I flew in a commercial airliner, we didn’t have such wonderful gadgets to amuse ourselves in-flight.
We landed on time at Detroit Metro Airport and had our much anticipated reunion with our wives. By the time I was parking the van in our driveway an hour or so later, most of our kids were already asleep. Becky & Brad ran to greet me in the driveway so I’d have to settle for my family reunion in measured doses. The remaining “DADDYs!” will have to wait ‘till morning. Meanwhile, I spent a couple of hours showing Melanie, Becky & Brad some of my photos and relating a few of the highlights of the trip. Eventually, they too headed up to bed and the house was quiet - just me & my thoughts.
Reflecting back on the past week; I breathed a big sigh of contentment. We had managed to pack a lot into seven days and I would be understating if I failed to say that there was a measure of divine providence in that. Among the things that were accomplished: Work on my novel is now well underway as chapter one has been sketched-out in my mind and a partial first draft has been written. I saw some of the most incredible natural beauty on earth; seeing a part of our country I’ve always wanted to behold. Above all, it was a time of real refreshing as I was able to tune my ears to hear with greater clarity that voice – that still, small voice we who love God long to hear. Those are the things that reach the ears of God’s people which may otherwise be drowned-out by all the ambient noise and distractions that usually surrounds our lives. Even Jesus; longing to spend time with the Father, occasionally withdrew into the wilderness and away from the gathering throngs to seek solitude, rest and to commune with His Father in Heaven.
Seeing the Rocky Mountains and beholding their immense scale inspired me to try and imagine the unfathomable forces which pushed those peaks high enough to touch the sky. I’ve come to believe through scripture, reading scientific publications and other sources, or simply studying the evidence for myself that the great mountain ranges of the earth were heaped up very quickly as the earth was recovering from the great deluge; the flood recorded in Genesis. As the continents rose, the waters of the great deep were gathered into the oceans we know today; washing across the newly deposited sediments and soils; the retreating waters carved the great river systems of the world – in some cases so violently that features such as the Grand Canyon were rapidly carved deep into those freshly laid sedimentary layers.
If one is willing to set aside all the things they’ve been taught by un-objective curriculum and secular zealots with no room to give God’s word even a toe into the door of their world-view – if one is willing to look beyond all that, the veil might just be lifted from their eyes to open up a vast body of evidence for a view contrary to the prevailing winds of man’s contrived story of how we came into being. When I stand before such incredible topography as I did last week, I see in the evidence so clearly; God stayed His wrath just short of completely blotting-out mankind. If you’re inclined to see it, the signs of the wrath of the holy God of all creation are right there. How awesome; how sobering it is to behold this world through the lens of God’s word.
In closing, I want to say that I am so thankful to God for the blessing of this trip. I feel that He met me there in the quiet solitude of a wilderness adventure. He restored to me the strength I need as I go forward and I have full intention of learning His purpose & will for me and seeing to it that I’m diligent to do all I can to fulfill His good and perfect plan. I’m a husband & father and a citizen of the Kingdom of God and by faith I can also move mountains to accomplish whatever He calls me to do!
The hike left me feeling tired but I’m pleased to report that I do seem to be acclimating to the altitude. There were a few stretches where my lungs were burning as if I’d just completed a long run. We returned to our vehicle with less than an hour remaining ‘til sundown.
HANK EXAMINES A BEAR-SCARRED TREE
We baked some pizzas in the oven for dinner and are now relaxing at the table; preparing to work on our novels. So with that, I’ll close my journal for now. Day one being a full one; I have nothing but eager anticipation for tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll manage some better quality sleep tonight.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
MORNING UPDATE:
As the sun was setting over the mountain peaks above us last evening, I remember noting that the clouds were steadily building-in from the north. I wondered if that might not be a sign of some weather changes in store for Tuesday. The last forecast I saw, back on Saturday was calling for the chance for some rain on Tuesday – but that was for the nearest town. Up here in the mountains, it’s been some 20-30° cooler so yesterday I mentioned to Hank that those rain showers may very well be snow showers at the cabin were we’re staying.
I looked out the window at about 5:00 this morning and sure-enough; we had about an inch of snow on the ground! It’s now around 8:00 and I’ve had a bowl of cereal and spent some quiet time upstairs with my Lord – reading scripture and praying for His continued guidance and providence. I’m now sitting here at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee and a whole new landscape to view outside. The pines all look like they’ve been brushed with white frosting. Looking out across the meadow I see the pines that cover the mountainside beyond and they look like thousands of
miniature trees from one of those ceramic Christmas villages. Occasionally, the high peaks reveal themselves from behind their wintry veil. I can’t tell for sure from here but it’s either still snowing up there or the clouds are hanging low enough to obscure the mountain tops. Here at the cabin, the snow seems to be finished with a total of about 1 ½” but then again, we are in the mountains and the weather can turn on a dime.
1:00pm
This morning’s snow is quickly melting off. I don’t recall for sure but today may have been the first time I’ve ever shoveled snow in early October. No sign of Bullwinkle the moose yet today but Rocky the squirrel was hanging around while we were feeding the jays - trying to get in on that action. We had a quick & simple lunch, lounged around the cabin a bit and now were at the Pingree Park Campus a few miles up the road – writing, checking e-mails, & writing some more. I’m glad we were able to find a wifi connection so close to the cabin ‘cause I do need to do a little on-line research for one of the chapters I’m working on. As I sit here in this student lounge, I’m just amazed by this venue – I’m looking out a large window at the other end of the room and I’m eye-level with some cumulus clouds drifting by on the other side of the valley from us. I figure we’ll stay here & work for a few hours and if the weather breaks in our favor, maybe a quick hike before we lose the Sun.
10:00pm
We stayed at the Pingree Park Campus ‘til Deborah had to lock up the building. I managed to get some very useful research accomplished – stuff I need to write the chapter I’m working on this week. Deborah was such a good host and we thanked her for all she’d done to help us get the most from our visit. Hank & I chatted with her for several minutes as we packed-up our computers. She asked us about our books and we talked about the plans we’ve been making for the rest of our stay in the area. Looking out the window at the sun shinning on the peaks above us, I asked her, “Do you know how spoiled you are to have this view every day?” “Yes I do!” She replied with a gleam in her eyes. We decided to forego any hiking this afternoon and just headed back to the cabin for dinner and more work on our books. I did take a short stroll for a bout 45 minutes as darkness was settling in. Tomorrow, we’ll need to leave early to get to Pike’s Peak and back in a reasonable time.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Last night, I found an alarm-clock in my bedroom so I set it to wake me at 5am. And sure enough; just like clock-work…It started off slowly and before I could throw off the covers and stumble over to is perch on the dresser, the tempo had increased and could swear the blasted thing had gotten louder too – as if to say, “Hey Bub, let’s get a move on. You’ve got a mountain to climb and only a day to do it!”
I wasted no time in getting ready; a quick shower, bowl of cereal & then packed a few provisions for our day-trip. Our plan was to get on the road early and head to Colorado Springs – a 3 ½ hour drive from the cabin. From there, we’d set our sights on Pike’s Peak and the 19-mile drive up to the summit. Also in our plans was a little detour; a visit to the Focus on the Family Welcome Center. If we had time, the plan was to wrap up the sight seeing tour with a stop at a place called The Garden of the Gods – a park which features some incredible rock formations.
We managed to get ourselves under way by 7:00 with the first light of dawn illuminating to mountain peaks above. About five minutes into our drive down the mountain pass, I finally got my first-ever encounter with a moose – a couple of ‘em actually. The two cows were trotting down the dirt road right in front of us. Frantically I found my camera and turned it on. I rolled down the passenger seat window and leaned out as Hank tried to close the gap. We were driving on one of the many switch-backs and were rounding a sharp curve. They weren’t the least bit interested in striking a pose for me and bounded up the steep bank to our left. The only photo I managed to snap was a dark, blurry image of a very large hind-quarter as the animals disappeared into the thick pine forest. Maybe I’ll just claim it was a Sasquatch and post the picture on the internet for laughs. Photos notwithstanding, I was none the less exhilarated by the experience; having seen those majestic creatures up close like that.
A few miles down the road, we were forced to stop. Not by rush hour traffic or a construction zone (Smiling as I wrote that - resisting the urge to say, “na, na, nana-na!”); no, rather it was our irresistible need to photograph the big red sphere rising above the mountain peaks to our east which stopped us in our tracks. We managed to get a number of great shots of that amazing sunrise but they fall well short of capturing the full beauty which was unfolding before us. Standing there; gazing at that scenery, a whole herd of moose AND a Sasquatch could’ve passed right behind me and I never would’ve noticed! As we climbed back into the Jeep, I looked down and saw that my footprints in the soft shoulder of the road were mingled with dozens of elk footprints. I don’t know; it just struck me as profound so now it’s recorded here in my journal.
I’m only guessing here but somewhere around 30 miles outside of Colorado Springs, we first noticed a massive, snow-covered mountain towering above all the other peaks. As a man who grew up in Michigan, my first inclination was to say, “Hey, look at those clouds over there.” I’m just not used to seeing something touch the sky like that. As we drew closer, I found myself captivated by the thought that we were actually going to be driving up there – it’s just not something a guy with my background and experience can immediately get his mind around.
We spent about 45 minutes at Focus on the Family. I enjoyed the various displays; reading of the history of their ministry and learning about their vision for reaching out to this generation. I also enjoyed the gallery where they display original paintings and sculptures; some of which were done by Dr. James Dobson’s father. I found our brief visit there to a valuable reinforcement and inspiration – demonstrating what God can do through the simple obedience of one man to His calling.
PIKE'S PEAKNo other way to put it, I was very disappointed that the summit was off the table. Nevertheless, with eager anticipation, I sat staring out the auto-glass view screen as Hank began the white-knuckle drive up the highest road I’ve ever been on. Every bend in the road seemed to reveal another awe-inspiring view. The higher we climbed, the more the road took my breath away – either because of the increasingly thin air or the increasingly spectacular vistas spread out before my eyes. Earlier this week, my favorite word was “WOW”. Today, I added “AWESOME” to my lexicon of incessantly repeated expressions!
I would’ve been much more comfortable as a driver than a passenger. That’s not to say I don’t trust Hank’s driving – I certainly do. It’s just that when you’re driving up a mountain pass with little or no guard rails as your vehicle is guided through numerous switch-backs cut into the mountain side, it adds a little extra measure of stress when you have no control of the situation. What if Hank has been hiding his suicidal tendencies all these years and THIS is the moment he decides to end it all by taking the express lane to the bottom. Or what if he’s still really tired
from getting up so early this morning and falls asleep and…. Sometimes I hate having such a fertile imagination and I ALWAYS hate not being in control so the drive up Pike’s Peak was actually a very good exercise for me; stretching my faith just a little beyond my comfort zone is a good thing…I guess.As we passed Mile marker 13, we began to wonder if they had opened the road all the way to the summit after all but as we made our way around another switch-back, we caught up with about a dozen other vehicles which had been stopped just short of mile 14 where the park rangers had set up their pick-up as a barrier. We were maybe a few hundred feet higher than the alpine zone – the point where trees can no longer grow. We were almost 2,000 feet lower than the summit but the views there, well above the tree-line and higher than eye-level with any pilot in a small airplane; we were still treated to some spectacular scenery.
We figured we’d linger there a while and eat our lunch. Who knew, maybe the summit would open before we finished. This morning, we’d packed a loaf of bread, some lunchmeat and a bottle of mustard and this was the perfect place to make a sandwich and relax a bit…well, almost perfect. As you increase in altitude, the air pressure decreases. Our ears popped numerous times as we made our ascent; equalizing the pressure inside our ear canals. Mustard bottles don’t have ears to relieve internal pressure. I spread my slices of bread on the dashboard and reached into the cooler for my favorite condiment. That’s when I discovered how mustard bottles relieve their internal pressure…they simply wait for the first dufus to pop their top open. Mustard everywhere! I had mustard all over my hands and it was sprayed inside our cooler not to mention most of the cooler’s contents. Making matters worse we didn’t have any paper towels – not even a couple of napkins. We did have a small travel-pack of Kleenex tissue and a large snow drift next to the Jeep. The park rangers sitting in their truck must’ve been wondering why someone would be rubbing packages of cheese & lunch meat against the snow bank. After getting the cooler’s contents reasonably mustard free, I used a couple of snow balls and a few way too small wads of Kleenex to wash out the cooler as best I could. They say to be careful not to eat yellow snow but the drift next to our vehicle would’ve been the one rare exception – that is if you’d fancy a mustard-flavored snow cone. Besides learning my lesson about atmospheric pressure and condiments, I can also report with full authority on the subject that mustard smell does not wash off ones hands very easily.
Having been told by our ranger friends in the pickup truck that the summit would definitely NOT open today, we made a three-point turn to aim our noses in the down-hill direction; nearly forgetting the cooler that I’d left in the road. The adventures of Pike’s Peak continued as we retraced the white-knuckle ride; stopping several times along the way to snap a few photos. After the better part of an hour since the mustard fiasco, we reached the base of the mountain; rolling up to the toll booth with that same old fella (or as Hank dubbed him, “Old man Jenkins”) still manning his post. A sign caught Hank’s eye as we approached the exit gate, “The Summit is now open” it read. Without hesitation we did a U-turn to see if we’d read the sign correctly. Mr. Jenkins confirmed that he had indeed just put the sign out a few minutes earlier and of course we could drive back up if we wanted too.
Well now, that was welcome news. The annoyance of getting bad information from Mr. Ranger was more than compensated by the joy of learning that I would indeed get to the summit today. So without further delay, we made our second trip up the mountain. As we rolled past our previous stopping point, I chuckled as I looked out my window at the yellow snow along the road. Some of the symptoms of altitude sickness include coughing,disorientation, feeling
lightheaded, or fainting. As we exited our Jeep, I was feeling just a touch of some of those temporary maladies.
My lungs were burning a bit – like I’d just run the 100-yard dash and my knees felt like they might buckle. I ignored those minor discomforts and walked beyond the parking lot to get the best view. It was incredible – to be standing on solid ground yet the earth was spread out before me as though I was already on my return flight home to Michigan. Speaking of airplanes, we saw one fly by – I’d guess it was at least a couple thousand feet below us! I wondered if I might find a cellular signal up there and sure enough, my Blackberry had a couple of bars showing on the signal graph. So I called home and said hi to Mellie from the roof of the world – sent her a couple of pictures from up there too.
Before our descent back down the mountain, I made a point to stand on the actual summit which is 14,110 feet above sea level and so happens to be in the center of a field of shattered chunks of stone. I left my perch on top of the world with a little memento: a little piece of the summit in my pocket in the form of a palm-sized chunk of Pike’s Peak. I hope that doesn’t break some sort of rule. If it does, I’m not taking it back up there – sorry. Oh, and I forgot to mention that I accidentally toppled a twelve inch tall chunk of rock off the summit – again, sorry. I guess they’ll have to change all their signs & brochures because Pike’s Peak is now only 14,109 feet tall! The ride back down was like replaying some of your favorite scenes on a movie DVD as we got to see all of those indescribable views all over again.We did manage to spend about an hour at Garden of the Gods.
The red rocks were formed in layers which at some point in the past, were thrust upward into a nearly vertical position. Some of these rock formations were quite tall (I’m guessing a couple hundred feet) and attract many technical climbers. There was even a local fire department there training for extreme rescue situations. The rock formations are extremely photogenic and were quite willing to stand still while I snapped dozens of pictures. We stayed there ‘til sundown; driving away from the park with Pikes Peak casting its shadow over us.On the way back to our cabin, we stopped for a quick bite to eat at a Chic-Fil-A and later a visit to Walmart to grab a few provisions for the rest of the week. By the time we finally headed back into the mountains and toward our lodging, we were both exhausted. Today was as full as a day can be and our bodies were saying, “ENOUGH!” As we made our way up the pass, it was my job to keep the conversation lively (or as lively as I could with a fried brain) so Hank didn’t fall asleep and escort us toward the exit door from this life via a plunge into a dark mountain ravine. Obviously, I’m writing this so I must’ve done alright. Somewhere along our route we had another wildlife sighting. This time, it was a fleeting glimpse of an animal as it crossed the road somewhere just inside the effective range of our headlights. Tan in color and way larger than a fox. It could’ve been a coyote except that we were both struck by the fact that it had a more cat-like gate as it slinked into the brush and disappeared. Another coyote-like feature that was absent was a bushy tail. So our conclusion: it was an animal previously unknown to modern man and we’re co-discoverers – I suspect we’ll soon be famous. Yes, you're right - I'm just kidding but we do wonder if it might’ve been a mountain lion – seems plausible but since we were both still suffering from overexposure to high altitudes and underexposure to our pillows; for all we know it could’ve been a golden retriever answering to the name Molly. Nevertheless, I’m sticking with mountain lion as it makes my journal more colorful.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I did not set the alarm clock last night. In fact, I spent the first half of the night sleeping in the recliner chair in front of the TV. For me, our attempt to watch a movie when we returned to the cabin; American Treasure w/Nicholas Cage, ended early. I think the last thing I remember is the stolen Declaration of Independence scene. Actually, that’s the only scene I remember. I must’ve dozed off somewhere during the opening credits. Anyhow, the next thing I knew; the TV was off and Hank was asleep over on the sofa and I’m dragging myself up the stairs and into bed.
I got up at 7:00 without the alarm and set about to get breakfast going. Hank was still trying to cling to last available minutes of sleep. In spite my bet efforts to keep the place quiet, the various kitchen gadgets and food packaging are just impossible to mute. By the time I was half-way through my stack of generic waffles and glass of OJ; Hank had given up on that sleep thing and rolled off the sofa to join me in our day’s activity.
After breakfast, I took my morning stroll down into the grassy meadow to spend some quiet time in prayer and meditation. I mention quiet and I must say that (the previously-mentioned kitchen notwithstanding) quiet here is profoundly quiet. As I stood at the edge of the meadow; leaning against an aspen tree, I was overwhelmed by the quietness – it surrounds you here like a blanket. If not for the occasional bird song or squirrel chatter, you hear just about nothing. It’s like plugging your ears and the only sounds you hear are your own internal biological noises. Well, this morning as I was praying out there I could hear a distant sound – the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through the pines on the yonder mountain side. Where I stood, the air was absolutely still; the breeze hadn’t yet arrived though I could hear it making its way; slowly moving down the mountain as if intent on delivering me a warm morning greeting. Sometimes something as subtle as a distant sound is enough to evoke an inspiration in me and this was one of those times. I yearn to know my Heavenly Father more intimately and I long for His guidance as I press on with the life He’s blessed me with. Sometimes, when I quiet myself I can make out the gentle breezes of God on a distant hillside. What I mean to say is I’m overwhelmed with the expectation that God’s plans for me and my family are going to be fulfilled as surely as the approaching wind will soon be blowing across the dry grasses of that mountain meadow.
Hank and I were both dragging a bit this morning, we packed a lot into yesterday; we’ve packed a lot into the whole week thus far. So we relaxed our tempo a just a bit as we readied ourselves for our next adventure. Tired or not, our plan was to make another attempt at reaching that B-17 crash site this afternoon so we did need to get underway before too long or we’d miss our window of opportunity. We packed our backpack with some fruit, trail mix and the all-important H₂0 bottles. Oh-and the trail maps. We were told by Deborah the other day that the site could be a bit difficult to find so I wanted every scrap of info available regarding the trails and land marks we’d need to negotiate.
We set foot on the Stormy Peaks trail head just a little before 1:00 and tried to establish a quicker pace than we had on our previous hike up there. That pace lasted maybe 15 minutes before our bodies expressed other intentions. Some of the hike involves moderately difficult grades and terrain and so I kept a close eye on our progress – following our route on the topographical map we picked up back on Monday and using a timer to plot our position/progress. After about 2 hours and twenty minutes, we finally stepped from the pines and onto a large boulder field; maybe a thousand feet shy of the top of the 12,148 foot mountain we were on.
All afternoon I had been concentrating on navigating to the crash site and hadn’t given much thought about our destination or how it might affect me once we saw it. So I wasn’t really prepared for the overwhelmingly solemn feeling I had as I saw the first piece of wreckage – knowing that those eight young men died there in the effort to keep us free from the tyranny threatening our nation during WW II. The literature that Deborah gave us said that the oldest airman on that ill-fated flight was only 25. The flight had originated from Rapid City SD on October 18, 1943 and was on a night training mission when for some reason it failed to clear the mountain.
Today is nearly 67 years to the day since the plane crashed and I regret that we hadn’t thought to take some sort of memorial with us – perhaps eight flags might’ve been appropriate. Walking out into the crash site, we measured our steps carefully as the terrain was very difficult – a steep mountainside covered with jagged metal pieces strewn over perhaps an acre or so and mingled with sharp, snow-covered stones ranging from tennis ball to refrigerator size. Some of the pieces of wreckage were identifiable: a main landing gear, part of a wing/engine mount, and an engine. We explored the area for at least a half hour and then began our hike back down to the Jeep. Thankfully, the Stormy Peaks Trail wasn’t uphill in both directions like the ones my Dad used to hike when he was young!Well, a couple of tired old fellas walked off the trail and toward their vehicle; just as the sun was setting behind Comanche Peak. We’re now back in the cabin; having finished dinner and our writing for the day – that is, once I’ve typed the final period for this journal entry. Hank has made our movie selection for this evening’s entertainment: Grumpy Old Men. There’s probably something profoundly witty I could write about that if I sit here a moment and give it some thought but I think I’ll just proceed on to that fore-mentioned period. (That was it)
Friday, October 16, 2010
I slept in just a bit today; woke up a little after 7:00 and finally rolled out of bed just before 8 – still at bit tired from yesterday’s hike. I did some work on my novel ‘til mid day; aided by the dial-up internet access that Hank managed to rig for us. I needed to do a little research for the chapter I’m currently writing. Then after lunch we embarked on another day- trip – this time, to Estes Park. Funny thing is, Estes Park is only about thirteen miles from our lodging – that is, as the crow flies – assuming of course that a crow can clear a 13,000 foot mountain or two. Unfortunately, there aren’t any roads directly from here to there and I can say without hesitation that our little rental jeep can’t clear a 13,000 mountain – not even in four wheel drive! So, our destination - which back home would be equivalent to a trip to Walmart & back - here is a four-hour round trip down the mountain pass and back-up another. The trade-off is worth it though; some of the most jaw-dropping scenery God has put together on Earth.
It was another beautiful, cloudless day. In fact, we haven’t seen a cloud in the sky since Wednesday. Well – okay, to be truthful, I did see a small cloud hovering over a mountain top. It lingered there for a while but got lonely - couldn’t find any friends to hang with so it left without even saying goodbye. The people who live in Estes Park are so spoiled; I wonder if they even know it. I mean the scenery there – it’s indescribably beautiful and those folks just live out their daily lives surrounded by it – probably oblivious to it. Normal for them is what so many folks travel for thousands of miles to gaze at – trying to soak-up as much as they can before returning home to their own brand of “normal”.
To some degree, I myself have become normalized to the scenery here in the Rockies of Colorado. We’ve seen a lot of indescribable beauty here this past week and so Estes Park looks somewhat like just more of the same to me. Yet, I’ve not gotten to point where each new mountain peak or deep ravine or unique rock out-cropping fails to turn my head and cause me to stare. I doubt I’d ever get so spoiled that I didn’t notice such things any more but I wouldn’t mind staying here long enough to prove that theory.
Among the things we saw in Estes Park: More Elk than you can shake a stick at and Bear Lake – a Chrystal-clear body of water set against the backdrop of the snow-capped mountain peaks of Rocky Mountain National Park. We didn’t have a lot of time to explore the area due to our late start today but we managed see quite a bit before dark. After a few hours, the sun hid itself behind a high peak so we decided to give chase as the lower elevations in the shadow of the mountains were already embracing the darkness of nightfall.
Route 34, A.K.A. Trail Ridge Road cuts its way up into the mountains of the Mummy Range to the west of Estes Park. According to the Nation Audubon Society’s field guide I had with me, Trail Ridge Road is the “highest paved through-route in the nation; reaches elevations of 12,183 feet and traverses about 11 miles of tundra along its 44 mile length”. Tundra – schmundra; we just wanted to see the sunset over the western Rockies. We managed to drive up out of the darkness that had already settled into the valley below; our ears popping all the way, finally catching a glimpse of what we were chasing. The high peaks to our west silhouetted against a purple/pink sky. No, we didn’t quite catch up with the sun before it bade the area a warm farewell, but it was still worth the effort as we were rewarded with a view of those lingering hues as they faded into the cloudless horizon. It was cold up there and we were only wearing light clothing. Nevertheless, we stopped at a couple of overlooks to enjoy our lofty vista. To our east, we could see the lights of the village of Estes Park nestled between the mountains below and beyond; spread our before us were lights of other towns or cities – perhaps Fort Collins; we weren’t really sure which.
We didn’t linger there too long. Hank wasn’t looking forward to yet another white-knuckled ride down a mountain road – this time in the dark. Just like at Pike’s Peak the other day, your stomach gets all fluttery as you peer over the edge of the road and into the seemingly bottomless void just beyond the edge of the pavement. If I were to spit out my window, some poor fella 4,000 feet below might think rain’s-a-commin’. Hank hugged the center line all the way back down and I really didn’t mind that at all. Once we landed safely in the valley below, I assisted him in prying his fingers from the steering wheel. As we made our way back though the park, we were nearly run off the road by a small herd of elk convinced of greener grass on the other side. One of the bulls in that bunch was HUGE! One other wildlife honorable mention: I saw a number of interesting black & white birds hanging around us while walking the trail to Bear Lake. Later, I looked them up in our trusty cabin coffee table bird-book and identified them as Black-Billed Magpies. I’m not sure what I’ll ever do with that piece of trivia but if the subject of Black-Billed Magpies ever comes up during a casual conversation, I’ll be prepared.
We stopped-off for a drive-through dinner, refueled the Jeep with some over-priced gasoline and reset the GPS to guide us back to our home away from home. Good ‘ol Garmin knew the way and we rolled up to the cabin just before 10:00; deciding to relax the rest of the evening…which we did. I’m in a bit of a reflective mood as this is our last night sleeping here. Tomorrow, we’ll spend the night in the home of an old friend – Pastor Tom Elliot & his family invited us to bed down at their place. This will give us a chance to visit with them and it’ll be an easier morning for us as we’ll only be an hour from Denver and our flight home to Michigan.
What a week this been – my words written here and the hundreds of photos Hank & I took fail to truly capture what can only be experienced first-hand. Nevertheless, I’m glad I’ve made the effort to document the trip as best I could. For one thing, it’s good exercise for me as I’m trying to hone my writing skills and I’m also sure it’ll help me relive the experience for years to come as my account will surely pry-up some memories that otherwise would get lost somewhere in my aging cranium.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
MORNING:
I slept in ‘til 8:00 again today – just because I could. I left the drapes drawn with the window open all night. The cool mountain air was a welcome companion as I fell asleep. The morning sun lit up the snowy top of Comanche Peak and the light reflecting our way filled my room – that was my alarm clock today.
We cleared away our breakfast dishes a while ago and have begun some of our packing. We’ve got a couple of loads of laundry out of the way and I’m now working on my journal (in case you hadn’t figured that on your own). After this brief update, I’m going outside to take a stroll with the One who created all this natural splendor and then I’ll get back to working on my novel. Chapter one is going quite well and I hope to have it at least outlined if not completely rough-drafted before heading home tomorrow.
AFTERNOON:
We had set a goal to be on the road and headed out of the mountains toward the Elliot’s home by 4:00. At half-past four we were still waiting for the last load of laundry to dry. We went through the checklist for closing down the cabin and finally; the laundry dried & folded, we bade farewell to the cabin that we’d been calling home all week. It was a little past 5:00 when I locked the gate at the driveway for the last time and we began our drive down the mountain pass which by now has become a familiar route. Along the way I saw one more example of wildlife worth a mention; a mule deer – the doe was grazing along the roadway and paid no attention to the muddy Jeep rolling past her. All way down from the mountains, I kept hoping for a glimpse of one remaining hold-out; a big horned sheep. I scanned the rocky hillsides rolling by but never did see one – well, maybe next time.
We arrived at the Elliot home a little after six just in time for the Ohio State vs. Wisconsin half-time – Tom’s a big OSU fan. As we walked through the front door, he looked like someone had just run over the family dog or maybe was suffering with a bout of acute appendicitis so I quickly deduced that things weren’t going well for the Buckeyes. Indeed not – the Badgers had a 21 – 3 lead going into the locker room. Hank & I resisted our deep inner urges to sing Hail to the Victors as we set our luggage down. That would just be too cruel and probably not in our best interests anyway. So as we all gathered in the Elliot’s living room, for the first (and likely only) time ever, I was rooting for the Ohio State Buckeyes – or at least pretending to for the sake our gracious hosts. Not that it mattered; OSU eventually lost the game so Hank & I did our best to console Tom with some good fellowship. We had a nice dinner and enjoyed our visit with the Elliots. It’s now around 11:30 and I’m settling-in for the night. I’ll be sleeping in their finished basement; on an inflatable bed with an Ohio State comforter on top. Well, I suppose I can tolerate it for one night!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Denver Airport:
We said our goodbyes and departed the Elliot’s home at 8:00 this morning. I enjoyed the opportunity to reconnect with them last night. It’s been quite a while since I talked with Pastor Tom and I don’t recall ever having the occasion to have an in-depth conversation with him before as we only attended his church for a brief time. That was back a few years when we first moved to Howell. It was good to get to know him a little better and it was also encouraging to learn of the Elliot’s story regarding their move out to Colorado last year. God has blessed them and carried them through some difficult times.
On our way to the airport, we had to turn-in the rental car. Our little Jeep probably weighed an extra 100 pounds due to the dried mud that clung to its body panels. After that snow back on Tuesday, some of those mountain roads we drove got pretty sloppy. The Thrifty Rental check-in dude walked around the vehicle with his handy-dandy little electronic vehicle check-in gadget. He reminded me of Geordi Laforge from Star Trek with his tricorder (for all you non-trekkies, he looked like the Fedex guy with his package-tracking doohickey). I could imagine him reviewing the gadget’s display screen, “Hmm, we’ve got soil-matches from Pikes Peak, the mountains west of Fort Collins and Estes Park…some lingering fast-food residue and…What’s this – an unusually high reading for the presence of mustard?..Fascinating!” After Geordi had had a good look at the mess we’d just drove through the gate, I half-expected him to set his phaser on ‘stun’ and blast us both. Apparently he’s seen worse – didn’t even bat an eye as we grabbed our luggage and made a b-line for the shuttle bus to the airport which was just about to roll away from the curb.
The security line at the Denver Airport was quite long but we had left early enough to give us a decent time-cushion between those homeland security folks and our boarding gate. It’s now about 10:30 Mountain Time and we’ll begin boarding in about 20 minutes. We’re expecting a 3-hour lay-over in Minneapolis before our connecting flight takes us the rest of the way. I’m missing Melanie & the kids very much and can hardly wait for their embraces and to hear the word, “DADDY!” again. This has been the longest I’ve ever been away from my family and Mel told me that some of the kids have been crying for me at bed-time the past few nights. That’s enough to melt this daddy’s heart and compel me home no matter how many miles there are between us.
Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport:
It’s nearly 3:00pm (central time) and we’ve got a few hours to kill. We’re spending some of our Twin Cities lay-over at an airport restaurant – Chili’s. We’re due to start boarding our flight to Detroit at 5:05 local time. If Melanie knew where we were eating, she’d also know what I just ordered: Fajitas – combo w/steak & chicken. I should really try to stop being so predictable. While we wait for our dinners, we’re just sittin’ here at our table; munching chips & salsa while making a journal entry.
Delta flight 1708 departed on time this morning and as the wheels of our plane left the runway back in Denver, I couldn’t help but think about the view from the top of Pike’s Peak. Judging from how the houses and pastures looked from my seat in row 33C, I’d say it took a full three or four minutes before our Boeing 757 had climbed higher than that muddy rental jeep had a few days ago when we drove it to the summit.
Final Thoughts from Home:
As we boarded our flight to Detroit, we learned that they had reassigned our seats. Originally, Hank & I were seated across the Isle from each other – 29C & D but for some reason, our original plane – another 757 – was substituted with a wide-body Airbus A330 so we were split-up for the final leg of our journey. As I boarded the plane, I saw the pilot with a copy of Airbus A330 for Dummies tucked under his arm. The flight crew seemed a bit out of their element as the lead flight attendant had trouble figuring out how to work the video screen announcements. Each seat back had a video screen so we could watch the looping useless information in multiple languages. Okay, you’re right -- I was kidding about the pilot and the flight attendants did eventually manage to get those video screens to function properly – although I couldn’t figure out why mine was a blank screen while everyone else was watching an in-flight movie or tracking our plane’s progress on a cool map of our flight. Finally, about ten minutes before we landed, I noticed the little hand-held remote for my video screen tucked into my arm-rest. That little ‘aha’-moment came about an hour too late to be of any use to me. The last time I flew in a commercial airliner, we didn’t have such wonderful gadgets to amuse ourselves in-flight.
We landed on time at Detroit Metro Airport and had our much anticipated reunion with our wives. By the time I was parking the van in our driveway an hour or so later, most of our kids were already asleep. Becky & Brad ran to greet me in the driveway so I’d have to settle for my family reunion in measured doses. The remaining “DADDYs!” will have to wait ‘till morning. Meanwhile, I spent a couple of hours showing Melanie, Becky & Brad some of my photos and relating a few of the highlights of the trip. Eventually, they too headed up to bed and the house was quiet - just me & my thoughts.
Reflecting back on the past week; I breathed a big sigh of contentment. We had managed to pack a lot into seven days and I would be understating if I failed to say that there was a measure of divine providence in that. Among the things that were accomplished: Work on my novel is now well underway as chapter one has been sketched-out in my mind and a partial first draft has been written. I saw some of the most incredible natural beauty on earth; seeing a part of our country I’ve always wanted to behold. Above all, it was a time of real refreshing as I was able to tune my ears to hear with greater clarity that voice – that still, small voice we who love God long to hear. Those are the things that reach the ears of God’s people which may otherwise be drowned-out by all the ambient noise and distractions that usually surrounds our lives. Even Jesus; longing to spend time with the Father, occasionally withdrew into the wilderness and away from the gathering throngs to seek solitude, rest and to commune with His Father in Heaven.
Seeing the Rocky Mountains and beholding their immense scale inspired me to try and imagine the unfathomable forces which pushed those peaks high enough to touch the sky. I’ve come to believe through scripture, reading scientific publications and other sources, or simply studying the evidence for myself that the great mountain ranges of the earth were heaped up very quickly as the earth was recovering from the great deluge; the flood recorded in Genesis. As the continents rose, the waters of the great deep were gathered into the oceans we know today; washing across the newly deposited sediments and soils; the retreating waters carved the great river systems of the world – in some cases so violently that features such as the Grand Canyon were rapidly carved deep into those freshly laid sedimentary layers.
If one is willing to set aside all the things they’ve been taught by un-objective curriculum and secular zealots with no room to give God’s word even a toe into the door of their world-view – if one is willing to look beyond all that, the veil might just be lifted from their eyes to open up a vast body of evidence for a view contrary to the prevailing winds of man’s contrived story of how we came into being. When I stand before such incredible topography as I did last week, I see in the evidence so clearly; God stayed His wrath just short of completely blotting-out mankind. If you’re inclined to see it, the signs of the wrath of the holy God of all creation are right there. How awesome; how sobering it is to behold this world through the lens of God’s word.
In closing, I want to say that I am so thankful to God for the blessing of this trip. I feel that He met me there in the quiet solitude of a wilderness adventure. He restored to me the strength I need as I go forward and I have full intention of learning His purpose & will for me and seeing to it that I’m diligent to do all I can to fulfill His good and perfect plan. I’m a husband & father and a citizen of the Kingdom of God and by faith I can also move mountains to accomplish whatever He calls me to do!
