Hidden in the Mists

Just getting to Yosemite National Park was an adventure. I had to cross a couple of passes in the Sierra Nevadas which were covered with snow and ice. Even in 4WD and with chains on the tires at one point I simply started sliding down the road totally out of control. After a couple of slow almost graceful pirouettes I lodged in the snow drifts on the side of the road. Deciding it was better to continue than go back I just powered out and kept going. Eventually getting to the main valley I didn't realize I was there because everything above 100 feet was shrouded by clouds. Standing in the Ansel Adams Gallery it was hard to believe that I was actually surrounded by such creations as El Capitan and Half Dome. The next morning the valley was covered in the same conditions, but I decided to hike up Yosemite Falls.
It was incredibly peaceful because I could tell from the amount of snow and lack of prints that no one had been on the trail in a few days. The climb from the valley floor up a couple thousand feet in elevation was surreal. I was traveling in a 50 meter bubble that moved with me along the trail outside of the snow pouring down that was all that I could see. Moreover, I had to be cautious avoiding the flak bursts of snow falling off the tree branches sagging and oppressed by days of snow. When finally one more snowflake broke the camel's back they would shed their load in a miniature avalanche which if it hit you would almost knock you down. You might imagine my surprise and pleasure when I rounded a bend and the clouds had momentarily cleared displaying the highest waterfall on the continent in all its glory. At this point I went off the trail across a snow covered boulder field to get closer to this raging monster. After a few minutes of wonder the clouds closed back in and we were hidden from each other once again.

Angels Landing

For some reason Zion National Park is relatively unknown in the south. In fact, I probably have to tell you that it is in Southern Utah. It is breathtaking. Most of the park centers around a canyon guarded on all sides by gigantic red rock monoliths. It was there that I found just about the best hike I've ever done. Called Angel's landing it consists of a steep climb up an almost sheer rock face culminating in a 1/2 mile scramble over a brittle sandstone ridge three feet wide in some places with a sheer drop of 1,500 feet on either side. If the journey wasn't enough, the destination (which is aptly named) is a rock outcropping thrust out into the canyon giving you a 360 view of multicolored cliffs spiked with shadows leaning over the winding river far below; a sight that leaves you breathless (or it could be the vertigo).
God almost seems wasteful in the amount of magnificent beauty that He has created.

Arches

After spending the night in Moab, UT, the early morning sun found me on a trail in Arches National Park. This place is truly beautiful. There are large formations of red sandstone clustered together throughout the desert grouped as if they were outposts protecting each other against the flat vagueness of the desert around them.
I hiked to the most famous arch in the world, Delicate Arch, and it was certainly impressive. Standing alone for no apparent reason it stretches over 50 feet in the air and then back down defying gravity and time. The landscape of this desert with its petrified sand dunes can't be that distant from Mars.

Lost in the Vastness

Long distance driving could be, if one were in the mood to view it as such, the most frustrating thing on earth. Where else can you go screaming over the asphalt for hours and only move a couple of inches? Yet it can also be a wondrous thing when driving through some of the most beautiful country on earth. My favorite road to have ever driven is I-70 between Vail and Glenwood Springs, CO. It is carved straight through the Rocky Mountains. The road sluices along next to the Colorado River with sheer rock on either side which comes alive with color in the afternoon light.
If there is one thing we have an abundance of in this country it is Space. Driving through the Midwest I am overwhelmed by the simple emptiness. There are actually places where over 100 miles separate interstate exits. It is a vastness so great that it seems to take on its own personality, to be reaching out to us begging to be filled. Or maybe these are just the crazy thoughts of a man feeling the weight of his own smallness surrounded by so much yet unable to see beyond the glow of his headlights and the little yellow fuel light on his dashboard.

Rocky Mountain High

This afternoon I went up to Rocky Mountains National Park. One of my favorite things is that first moment of astonishment; driving around a turn and suddenly here are these amazing mountains towering into the clouds. To get into the park I had to get through the gate guarded by the highway robbers calling themselves Park Rangers and charging $20 just to enjoy something they had nothing to do with creating. Like most of you understand I wasn't content to just look at this image of beauty but I wanted to get close and enjoy it.
I started out on a hike to an alpine lake that I thought would be beautiful. It was a little interesting though since there was over 3 feet of snow on the ground and I had no snowshoes. It kind of worked to step in the packed down footprints left from other travelers, but everynow and then I would suddenly sink down thigh deep in the snow. Soon I lost the trail but didn't want to give up so I went trudging up this ridge from where I thought I would be able to see the lake. I made it up but no view so I started following the ridge line. Before long I was having visions of myself getting stuck up there and I began to look for places where I could build a shelter or start a fire. I finally decided to turn back as the sun began to sink below the white peaks in the distance. I was pretty frustrated at not finding my lake, but I knew the smart thing was to turn around. As I started down the slope I looked out and there was a different yet very beautiful lake waiting for me.
Maybe that doesn't sound that interesting, but to me it was significant as I thought about how my path and God's path are often different, yet...

Always a surprise

I'm in Denver now, which is a very cool city. Imagine all the perks of a big city, set against the backdrop of some of the most majestic mountains in the world.
I decided to try and capture the hostel experience here in the US to see how it compared to abroad. I was not disappointed. It seems that in a hostel you pay about $10 for your bed and all the extra surprises are free.
This time, I woke up at 1:48 to the sound of somebody groaning and crying out loudly in pain. Once it was clear that he wasn't going to be quiet, I got out from under all my blankets (the heat didn't work) and padded across the floor (stepping over the holes) and found this guy writhing on his bunk. Turned out he had some kind of broken rib that kept spasming and tried to o.d. on Ibuprofen. I asked him if he wanted to go the hospital and went to wake up the manager. Soon there were 4 firemen and a couple of paramedics crowding into the room and they hauled him off. You never know what's going to happen, but it will always be interesting.
Today is off to explore the rockies

Life on the Road

Well, I've set off on my trip across the country to my new duty station in Klamath Falls, Oregon. I don't have to be there for a couple of weeks so I am taking my time, checking out interesting sights and people, and pursuing new adventures. Right now I'm in Wichita, Kansas. A couple of nights ago I stayed with some of my awesome family in Birmingham, AL and last night I caught some blues on Beale St. in Memphis. I wouldn't say no to a few prayers that the Jeep would make the trip safely as it has given some startling lurches and all the dashboard gauges died again (I try to just pace myself with other cars that hopefully are going somewhat near the speed limit).

There is probably no environment more conducive to good solid introspection than a long straight highway, a gray overcast sky and a CD player that doesn't work. I am often caught up in the wonder that all these people I'm passing have their own separate and compelling lives going on that are just as rich as mine. The woman on her cellphone dodging bridge impediments just closed the deal of the year and now it's time to hustle a child off to dinner and homework. The guy driving the Nissan like he's Dale Earnhardt (the first one) is speeding home to the woman he loves and their children. Not to even mention the myriads who aren't even on the road right now. Their dramas continue to unfold having barely brushed against mine and the soft yellow of my headlights continues its unending pursuit of the elusive white line.

Water Survival in Pensacola

Five hundred feet below I see someone wave a red flag from a boat (it's hard to see what color from so high above though). I cut myself away from the tow rope and begin to fall towards the ocean below. I look up and see a nicely inflated parachute canopy. Then I pull a lever near my waist and with a thump a life raft unfolds and falls to dangle beneath me. I make sure my life vest is inflated, then grab the steering toggles and do a quick circle scanning the water. Fifty feet above the waves I make sure I'm steering into the wind and prepare to splashdown. Before I know it I'm in the water and the canopy drifts down to land on top of me.

This parasailing was the best part of the Water Survival school. It was a three day program down in Pensacola, FL to prepare us for landing in the middle of the ocean and being able to survive and signal a rescue. It was actually a lot of fun despite the 49 degree water. We had some decent wetsuits that made it only somewhat miserable to be in the water for a long period. The idea behind the parasail was to tow you up to five hundred feet in the air to get a taste of parachuting into the ocean. After landing we blew up our life rafts and climbed in to await our rescue several hours later. Another highlight was practicing a helicopter pickup. We bobbed around in the water as a helo came overhead (spraying water everywhere) and dropped a little strap. After hooking that around our body they winched us up - it was pretty cool. Probably the crappiest thing was getting dragged behind the boat in our parachute harness practicing something constructive I'm sure. But overall it was great training and a good time.

SERE (Part II)

So the second part of SERE is the Resistance Training. That basically means that they train you how to deal with being captured, interrogated, and held as a prisoner. This four days of training sucked. Well actually the training program itself was very well run, that's why it sucked. Most of what happened is classified so all I will say is that it was very realistic and very unpleasant. Many people come out of that experience emotionally disturbed; I came through alright even though I was certainly demoralized at times. It's hard to imagine the sorts of things that human beings are capable of doing to each other. It was unforgettable to see the American flag when I finished, and to have a small idea what some POWs have been through for our country; and the fact that those in the military put their own freedom on the line to secure it for the rest.
Here's something I was thinking about and wrote in my journal when I finished: I love so much the last part of Romans 8. What can men do to us who belong to the God of the Universe; other than make us uncomfortable? The enemy can accuse us of the most heinous war crime - it is God who justifies. They can convict us of anything - it is Christ who condemns. They can separate us from everything and everyone we know - we cannot be separated from Christ's love. They can confine us to the tiniest of cells - God cannot be confined. They can strip us of all dignity - that which is in us cannot be taken away. Believing this is the heart of true FREEDOM.