PILGRIMAGE TO SINAI

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

After a nice breakfast at the Queen of Sheba Hotel in Eilat, Israel, we got in a taxi with a representative from International Tours. We thought we would spend the next two days with her, but it turned out to be only ten minutes. She took us to the Egyptian border, and told us we would need to take our luggage and an Egyptian tour company rep would be waiting on the other side. We went through passport control, out the building, trailing our luggage behind. There was nothing to do but keep walking. It was a deserted area—there were no other travelers, the place was just devoid of people—the DMZ?? Finally we went through another gate where a man was waiting—when he saw us he stuck out his hand. Brian reached out to shake it, saying, "I’m Brian Zahnd." The man said, "I’m happy to shake your hand, but what I want is your passport!" ha—just another checkpoint, a precursor of things to come. And we kept walking.

We went on down the brick walkway, our luggage clattering behind us. We soon came to another building—I would have walked around it, but Brian went on in. Turned out we were supposed to—I’m not sure what would have happened if we had bypassed it. We were told to put our luggage on the belt to be x-rayed. Still there was no one around, and we waited for someone to come x-ray it. In a few minutes, three men showed up, and scanned our belongings. They went quickly through the x-ray, and then the hand search began. They didn’t look at our big bags, but scrutinized the hand luggage. I had a magazine in my bag, and they began to turn every page. Another man approached, and explained they were looking for "erotica". Whew, I’m glad I didn’t have a Victoria’s Secret catalog! They looked through Brian’s bible too, and finally said we needed to follow them. I didn’t know if we were in trouble or not. We went into an office where four men were sitting and talking—they didn’t seem to pay us any attention until they had finished their conversation, but finally just gave us the stamps in our passport we needed. I stood in the doorway and kept our eyes on our bags.

So we walked a while longer, and finally came to a Land Cruiser waiting for us. We piled in the back with our bags—two benches facing one a nother. The man who gave us the "erotica" information turned out to be our guide, Mina. We had a driver, Ahkmed, a Bedouin with a scarf on his head, and a security guard, Mohammed, wearing a suit and tie, with a machine gun protruding from under his jacket. They weren’t in any hurry to leave, seemed to have things to do, but finally we were ready, and Ahkmed turned the key in the ignition. We were afraid for a minute the battery might be dead, but finally it roared to life, and we took off down the highway. He had to baby that battery the rest of our trip.

"" ""

We drove right along the Red Sea for quite some time, there were many beautiful resorts and beaches all along the way, but they all looked deserted, no signs of life. We were told the parking was underground, and it was too early for people to be out on the beach. 9:30? They’d be out in the US! It was kinda spooky, like all the people had evacuated, and here we were traveling with a personal security guard….what’s up?

After some time driving with the sea on the left and mountains on the right, and passing through numerous military checkpoints, we left the road and began to go cross-country through the desert, through a valley with mountains on both sides. It was the roughest ride I’ve ever taken, for miles and miles and miles. That Bedouin drove that Land Rover HARD, but I was glad he didn’t go any slower. I wanted to get there and get out. After a while Brian leaned forward and began to look intently out the front window. After a while, I asked him what was so interesting. He said he needed to focus out the front to keep from being sick. In 26 years of marriage, I’ve never known him to have motion sickness. I had also noticed Mena grimacing and holding his stomach. For some reason, that has never seemed to affect me. THANK GOD!! Finally we arrived at our destination, the Colored Canyon.

I had no clue what the Colored Canyon was, or what we would do there. There was a phrase on the itinerary I had been e-mailed, "drive through the Colored Canyon." Turns out we drove to a spot where we could HIKE the Colored Canyon. That’s right up our alley! We used the toilets–Egyptian style! (When in Egypt, do as the Egyptians!) I was standing around looking at a trail that went snaking down into the canyon below us. I thought it might be fun to walk down a few minutes, and asked if we could go. Mena said, "Of course." Turns out that was part of the plan all along. We went down into a beautiful canyon, and did a circuit. The "colored" part was mineral deposits in the rock, very pretty. The hike was probably an hour and a half, and some of it was real climbing. There was a very thin spot where you had to climb down through a hole under a rock—some tricky climbing, a real bottleneck, and the only way to get through. I said to Mena, "There are some people who couldn’t get down that." He told me about a woman who did get stuck in there. When he had gone to a local hotel to pick up his group that morning, he told that particular woman she couldn’t do it, that she was too big. She told him, "If my friends are going, I’m going." She got STUCK in the rocks, and sobbed in fear for two hours. He said he finally got her calmed down, and they worked her through, pulling on her legs from below. Poor woman!!! There was quite a line of people that had formed behind her, as this is a popular place to visit for tourists.

We climbed up a fairly steep hill with switchbacks to get back to where the Land Cruiser had moved—there was a tea house, a Bedouin place to buy cokes, and more Egyptian toilets, which were in this case outhouses. There were several guides and drivers waiting there, they were discussing that a guide had taken three people down quite early that morning and had not returned. His driver was concerned they were lost. I can imagine that would be quite disastrous! There would be no place to get water, and a seemingly endless maze of corridors.

We then took off—more bouncing and swerving—it was even difficult to have much of a conversation in the back of that Land Rover. There was no road, just ruts in the sand. After about 10-15 minutes of driving, we could see a man waving us down. We stopped, they had a conversation in Arabic, and finally turned to us.

"He is the guide that was missing—his client had a bad knee and couldn’t go any farther, and they looked for a way out that was not so difficult. They found their way to this Bedouin camp (yes, there was a "camp" in sight, if that’s what you want to call it. A tent, a truck, a fenced enclosure, maybe for sheep?) He asked the Bedouin to take them to the driver in his truck, but the truck had no fuel. They were asking for a ride back, but our driver would only agree with our permission, as he was working for us. Brian said, "Sure, I would be happy to help, but we’re not riding back there…we’ll just get out and wait!" So we did—we climbed out of the Land Rover in the middle of the Sinai Desert, Mena and Mohammed got out too, the Land Rover sped off, Brian sat down on a rock under the only tree around, and fired up his computer! When worlds collide! He showed the guys some pictures he had on his computer.

Half an hour later, they were back. We went on down through the valley, slowing down several times, Ahkmed downshifting as we got stalled in deep sand. Another hour, we arrived at Ein Hudra, a desert oasis and a Bedouin encampment. I had noticed some groceries in a bag under our seat, vegetables and some tuna. Ahkmed took them in to the Bedouin women who prepared a great meal for us—Bedouin bread (a cross between a tortilla and a pita), tuna, chopped tomatoes and cucumbers, another dish of the same except with mayo added, and orange slices for dessert. We had Bedouin tea while we waited for them to prepare it—tea boiled with sugar and water (like sweet tea in the South—boiling the sugar gives it a syrupy taste) and then some spice added. It tasted like cardamom to me, but the guys said no—they knew cardamom but this was something else. We were becoming great friends with Mena and Ahkmed and Mohammed.

Lunch was served Bedouin style—blankets were laid out like rugs in the sand in an open enclosure under a roof. We sat on the ground around a low table. It’s quite comfortable, but pretty messy—you just pile some stuff on a piece of bread and wrap it up burrito style, but since you’re just sitting on the ground it drips all over your legs—there are no napkins or plates.

We didn’t finish lunch until around 3, drove back the same way we went in, and finally reached a good road and continued on to St. Catherine’s Village. It was dark when we finally arrived. We checked in to St. Catherine’s Village guesthouse. The village has grown up as a result of the monastery. Everyone who goes there goes to visit the monastery or climb the mountain—there is no other reason to go there. The guesthouses are awesome—very quaint, comfortable, REAL—no sterile Holiday Inn Express! We got checked in—supper was provided. We had a wonderful meal–onion soup, then a stuffed potato appetizer—very different but delicious, followed by shish taouk, rice, vegetables, and finally, a coconut dessert with oranges. Since we were planning to get up at 1:30 to climb Mount Sinai, we went to bed right after supper.

DIVINE APPOINTMENT!

The day was a surprise from start to finish. We didn’t expect the unusual border crossing, we didn’t expect a crew of three to take care of us, we didn’t expect the wild ride through the desert or the hike or the visit to the oasis and Bedouin camp. Sometimes God just cooks up fun things for you! How grateful I am that I like those kind of things. Lots of people wouldn’t have liked the hike—it was the very thing we love most to do. I’m glad I was dressed for it, wore my Keen hiking shoes—led of the Spirit! I know lots of people would have HATED the drive, especially those who are inclined to have motion sickness, but we considered it a real adventure, and we LOVE adventures.

But the biggest surprise at all was finding about the spiritual journey Mena, our guide, is on. We were meant to meet him, and I know we’ll continue to keep in touch. Who knows what God will do?

As we were hiking through the canyon, he told us about falling 20 meters when his rope broke as he was doing some technical climbing there a few years ago. He had broken legs, but survived, which is a miracle. Then he showed us the place where he has a metal plate in his head, a souvenir of a bus accident of which he was the only survivor. I told him God had kept him alive for a purpose. I was assuming Mena was a Muslim, as both the others were. He was quiet for a few minutes and then said, "I will tell you something I don’t usually tell my clients." He told us about having been raised in the Egyptian Orthodox Church, but ceasing to believe in God as a teenager. He said that after experiencing several miracles in his life, he came to believe once again. I said, "So you believe Jesus is God?" "Yes, and I love Him."

We were thrilled to hear that! Brian told him about being a pastor, and began a discussion about the things of God that lasted for the next two days. Mena is part of a group "that is like a church but not a church" that meets regularly for prayer and worship, bringing together Orthodox, Catholics, and Protestants together—something that I’ve not heard the likes of in any Moslem country. God is doing bigger things than CNN knows, that’s for sure.

What an awesome thing to walk in the Spirit, to go to Sinai to climb a mountain, but to become a part of something even bigger.

JETLAGGED!!!

It’s a sort of sick feeling. You just have to keep moving. Lying down is very dangerous. Newark to Tel Aviv was ten hours and twenty minutes. It’s longer going home! We arrived about 10 in the morning, but that’s 2 am St. Joe time. We got through immigration quickly, and then were driven thirty minutes to another airport, Sde Dov. (You Americans just try and pronounce that.) It was a tiny airport, essentially one room, very old, a snack bar/souvenir/cigarette shop, a desk for security, a check-in counter, and three gates, in sharp contrast to the ultramodern, huge facility we had just arrived in, Ben Gurion Airport. The three gates were three doors all in a row, with the numbers above them. Go through any of those doors, and you’re still just three feet apart.

We approached the security desk first, we were essentially the only ones there, but there were at least four security people working there. Security in Israel has always been far more real than what we experience at home, and these (always young) agents are well-trained. We knew we would be questioned about our trip, what we planned to do, but this time we had a hard time convincing these very nice, polite folks we weren’t up to no good.

They asked the same questions over and over—why we were going to Eilat, what we planned to do there, were we going to cross over to Egypt, why such a short visit, why did we not fly out of Ben Gurion where we had just arrived (the flight left from THIS airport!) Why were we going to Greece? Who did we know there? What did we plan to do? Why? Why were we coming back to Tel Aviv again next week? Why were we leading a tour group? Did we personally know the people in our group? How did we know them? You’re a pastor in America? What is your other job? ("Uh, that one’s pretty much full time.") Do you have any documentation to prove you’re a pastor in America? Brian had a business card. It didn’t seem to impress them. They wanted something else. He looked through his briefcase, and didn’t’ find anything, and finally in desperation showed them his Bible and flipped through the pages, explaining all the notes and underlining ought to prove he was legitimate. It didn’t impress them either. We didn’t have any literature from the church, and they thought that was strange. I hadn’t figured I would need an announcement sheet while I was away. They kept stepping away, with much apologies, and conferring among themselves. Then another of the four would begin the questioning process over again.

After about 45 minutes with no progress, we decided we would call our Israeli travel agent—we had a cell phone. The agent said he would like to talk to him, and we were happy to oblige. I’m not sure what Gadi told them, but finally we got the papers we needed to enable us to approach the ticket counter. WHEW!

We finally got on the bus that would take us to our plane, and I slept most of the hour flight. I awoke as we were making our descent, looked out the window, and was awed by the stark mountains and cliffs of the Sinai desert. We landed, got our luggage, hailed a taxi, and went to the QUEEN OF SHEBA hotel. Our room wasn’t ready, and we sat by the pool, Brian checked his e-mail, and I nearly fell asleep again.

We finally ordered some Greek salads—they were huge, big enough for a family! (Wished we’d split one.) There was no lettuce, just lots of cucumbers, chunks of feta cheese, red onion, tomatoes, and ZATAR sprinkled on top. Zatar is a spice I’ve bought here but never found at home—great with olive oil for dipping bread in.

Now we’re checked in, have had wonderful hot showers, and are getting ready to go walk outside. (Must stay awake, must stay awake.)

It’s just 4:50 pm. The goal is to stay up until 8!

Another Urban Legend Debunked!

Can a woman really pack everything she needs for a 17 day trip to three countries in one medium-sized suitcase? NO!! Another urban legend bites the dust. I had my bag all packed an hour ago…except I didn’t have everything in it. I had to UNPACK it and start over with a bigger suitcase….oh well, who wants to go on a 17 day trip without your stuff? ha

We’re leaving early in the morning to lead our group of Christians making a pilgrimage to the holy land. No matter how many times I do this, I’m thrilled to once again experience it for the first time through their eyes. We’re going to have great adventures, AND the two of US are leaving a week early! We’re going to climb Mount Sinai and meet with God there at sunrise. Then we’re going to fly to Athens and visit the biblical sites there and in Corinth, and also visit Meteora , a mountainous region where a thousand years ago many monasteries were built into the sides of the cliffs, and are still in use. I’d love to see the Greek isles too, but we had to make a choice, and decided to go forhistory and the Bible.

Thank you Jesus for this awesome blessing!

Keaggy concert

Phil Keaggy did a concert tonight for Word of Life’s 25th anniversary celebration. We’ve had Casey Treat, Reinhard Bohnnke, and Brian Houston three nights in a row. It’s been awesome beyond words.

Keaggy did a song I used to know but hadn’t thought of in years. It’s a CS Lewis poem set to music, and totally beautiful, brutally honest.

AS THE RUINS FALL

by C. S. Lewis

All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you.

I never had a selfless thought since I was born.

I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through:

I want God, you, all friends merely to serve my turn.

Peace, reassurance, pleasure, are the goals I seek,

I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin:

I talk of love—a scholar’s parrot may talk Greek—

But, self-imprisoned, always end where I begin.

Only that now you have taught me (but how late) my lack.

I see the chasm. And everything You are was making

My heart into a bridge by which I might get back

From exile, and grow man. And now the bridge is breaking.

For this I bless You as the ruin falls. The pains

You give me are more precious than all other gains.

Lord, I give myself to you again. Take me, mold me, break me. Be the potter, and I’ll be the clay. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done. Amen and amen.

Our good buddy Oswald

God frequently uses Oswald Chamber’s daily devotional to shake me and wake me. This is today’s selection from his classic My Utmost for His Highest.

You Are Not Your Own


"Do you not know that you are not your own?" (1 Corinthians 6:19).

"There is no such thing as a private life, or a place to hide in this world, for a man or woman who is intimately aware of and shares in the sufferings of Jesus Christ. God divides the private life of His saints and makes it a highway for the world on one hand and for Himself on the other. No human being can stand that unless he is identified with Jesus Christ. We are not sanctified for ourselves. We are called into intimacy with the gospel, and things happen that appear to have nothing to do with us. But God is getting us into fellowship with Himself. Let Him have His way. If you refuse, you will be of no value to God in His redemptive work in the world, but will be a hindrance and a stumbling block.

"The first thing God does is get us grounded on strong reality and truth. He does this until our cares for ourselves individually have been brought into submission to His way for the purpose of His redemption. Why shouldn’t we experience heartbreak? Through those doorways God is opening up ways of fellowship with His Son. Most of us collapse at the first grip of pain. We sit down at the door of God’s purpose and enter a slow death through self-pity. And all the so-called Christian sympathy of others helps us to our deathbed. But God will not. He comes with the grip of the pierced hand of His Son, as if to say, "Enter into fellowship with Me; arise and shine." If God can accomplish His purposes in this world through a broken heart, then why not thank Him for breaking yours?"

GOD HELP US!!!!!!!!!!!

a few moments of graphic honesty….quick before the mood passes!

i was going through the mail….there was a card from someone in the church, expressing her deep appreciation for the deep transformation that had gone on in her life and family as a result of the ministry they received here…..she mentioned the date she first walked through the doors of this church, and explained that on that day Jesus had CRASHED into her life, forever changing it. I can’t tell you how good it made me feel. We do frequently receive notes like that, but it’s never enough, or I should say never too many, because each one makes a real impact on me, each one is a REAL LIFE and I am in AWE of the goodness of God in allowing me to be a part of that…..

i ended up reading part of the note aloud to the person who happened to be in closest proximity, just had to share it with someone, adding that I knew this gal’s life was a wreck beforehand, and had seen with my own eyes the transformation that had taken place, and how it had been ongoing and longlasting…the person I shared with said that even though their family’s life hadn’t been anything near as messed up, that the positive effects of becoming part of this church and learning the truths of the word of God had been just as profound…..whew! I was doubly humbled, touched, moved, and blessed–running out of descriptive words!

pastoring a church is HARD!!! pastoring THIS church is frequently painful!!!! I told a group of pastors a few years ago that the pain people cause you in your church is a good sign you’re really a pastor, and not a hireling, because a hireling wouldn’t love them enough to really care that much. i had a pastor’s wife who heard that remind me of it just a few weeks ago….she still remembered and it had ministered to her immensely.

We’re celebrating the TWENTY-FIFTH anniversary of Word of Life Church this Sunday. I still remember November 1, 1981. What a long, long way we’ve come!!!! We’ve worked so hard, prayed so much, cried a lot, loved people incredibly. And God has been so very, very faithful, so very, very good. It’s all been worth it a hundred times over.

What’s it all about?

This world is full of religions—all makes, models, varieties, derivations. Many teachers have come, teaching ways of living. Buddha, Confucious, Mohammed all brought a new message which was embraced as wisdom by many. Jesus is often included in that list, but his message was vastly different—he didn’t claim to know a way of living, he claimed to BE the way.

Most people around the world would say that Jesus started the religion of Christianity. But much of what is commonly recognized as Christianity is far from what he taught. Jesus clearly taught that we must individually make the choice to follow him, that it has nothing to do with the family or nation we are born into. We must each come to the realization that HE is the way to life, and, as he put it, be "born again" as we make that amazing discovery! Being born in the West doesn’t make you a true Christian, but there are millions who think so. This is a horrible distortion of the message that Jesus brought.

What does it mean to be "born again"? It is to understand that everything we have known and thought must be reexamined and, if necessary, discarded in the light of his teachings. It is to start life all over in the biggest way possible. It is to acknowledge that we have sinned, that we have done everything wrong, that our way is wrong, that we can only experience REAL life if we, so to speak, let him live through us.

The Bible is God’s message to the world. It’s opening line—"In the beginning GOD". He has always existed, and is the creator of everything. He created the entire universe, the world we live in—mountains, deserts, oceans, forests, animals, and finally, people.

The Bible says people were his last creation, his crowning achievement, and he created them "in his image"—in some way like himself.

The opening chapters of the Bible tell a beautiful story of God and man interacting together in the garden where he created man, a paradise far removed from the world we live in today. And then the chilling tale of man rebelling and disobeying God, causing a rift that destroyed the wonderful friendship they had enjoyed.

Why would God, if he really is the creator of all and possesses all power, let everything go so wrong? The answer is amazing, although rarely understood. God made man in his image, which means he had a free will, and could make the choice to rebel. God intentionally placed in his masterpiece, man, the ability to choose to rebel against him!

God’s master plan went far beyond merely creating man. His master plan would create beings who had made the choice to serve him, far superior to beings who merely served him out of compulsion. And in order to do so, God himself had to become a man, to come to earth to die for the sins of man, and to redeem men back to himself! Jesus was God in the flesh, and the amazing truth is that God knew even before he created man that all this would transpire.

And so Jesus came in the most humble way, born to a poor teenage Jewish mother, born, it was rumored, illegitimately. He was raised in obscurity and became a carpenter. But all the while, he was overcoming all the temptations humans face on earth, and made the choice to fulfill the purposes for which he’d been sent. He became a sort of prophet at the age of thirty, teaching a new way of life, teaching there was another kingdom, a spiritual kingdom that could be entered and experienced through faith.

Many followed him, but hardly any understood him. He traveled and taught in the land of Israel for three years, and then, shockingly, unexpectedly, was crucified by the Romans. His followers were grieved, broken, and scattered.

And then the astonishing news—he wasn’t dead, he had risen from the dead! He had conquered death and thereby provided a way for us to do the same. He was seen by hundreds of people many, many times over the next forty days—this is extremely well documented historically as well as being in the Bible, and then departed to go back to heaven, with the promise he would return.

For two thousand years, the message has been shared. Four different accounts written on the life and teachings of Jesus are recorded in the Bible. His message has often been misunderstood and distorted. But there is a kingdom here on earth which he established, a spiritual kingdom that has no political or physical boundaries. That kingdom is huge, comprised of every nationality, and that kingdom is growing. It consists of those individuals who have made the choice to obey God by making Jesus their king. They have understood that Jesus didn’t just teach a way to live, but that he himself is the way. Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, Jews—there are people from every religion who have found that Jesus is the way.

Jesus said he would return and set up his kingdom on the earth. Those who follow him now are waiting for him to do that. His kingdom is here now, in a spiritual sense, but will become known to all when he returns in bodily form to heal the world by ruling the world.

That will be the greatest time the world has ever known! The Bible says the knowledge of the Lord will cover the earth like the waters cover the seas! Imagine a world—this earth!—free from war, from poverty, from oppression. We can all live and enjoy life the way God originally intended. It will be like being back in the garden he created for us once again, but even better.

This time we are living in right now is not just "sit around and wait time". It is time to share the good news with others everywhere, to let them know that this kingdom is real, that this way of life is the truth, and that NOW is the time for people to choose to be a part of that kingdom—to use the free will he has given us to decide to make him our king.

I guess I just don’t get it….

ok, pals, the only sports I like is the ones my kids play….I’m hopeless, I know, but I only have so much leisure time and no lack of things to fill it with….don’t try to convert me. BZ’s given up on it.

So today the Chiefs pulled it off in a real nailbiter. Lunch was sitting there getting cold but the boys were too absorbed to care, and I didn’t either. But after lunch, BZ said, "Now I can watch some football and actually enjoy it–those kind of games are just torturous." Weird. Quit torturing yourself. There are so many things I get worked up about, and disturbed about, I kind of like to just relax sometimes and not feel so tense and stressed and then unhappy if they do lose, which statistically happens about half the time. (Clue: it’s all designed to break your heart.)

I did watch the bottom of the ninth of the Cardinals last game in the division series…winner goes to the Super Bowl…it was really close, and BZ hollered at me to come watch. I sat through three outs and enjoyed watching the jubilation of the winners–what fun! Then they interviewed the manager of the losing team…his eyes were full of pain and disappointment. Dang. I hate that. The thrill of victory is overshadowed by the agony of defeat.

Would I rather watch mindless drivel? NO NEVER!!!! I cannot abide watch stupid sitcoms, stupid TV. Those things are never never on in our house, nobody watches them. American Idol? Never seen it. I did watch half of one episode of some country music version of American Idol, because someone was at the house and wanted to watch it. Sheesh. Yuck.

I do occasionally watch Discovery Channel things, or History Channel, or some things Aaron tapes–Dirty Jobs, the Deadliest Catch (crab fisherman!). I saw an interesting show recently about making cheese–HA! I guess I’m really hopeless.

And I love to watch a really good movie, usually something dramatic, the problem is there really aren’t too many good movies. The Lord of the Rings series was probably the best thing made in the last several years, and it was a hit because JRR Tolkien wrote such a fabulous story and they were faithful in adapting it to film.

Give me a book anytime! I love books. In my leisure time, when I’m not reading one, I’m browsing Amazon.com, always looking for something else to read. I love reading people’s booklists, seeing what appeals to certain people. I read lots of reviews. Books rock.

Mountain Climbing Stories….

There is a Rocky Mountain climbers forum I’m part of….I go by Miss Lucy there. This is an account of a day in the mountains I wrote for that site:

CCY is one of our favorite hikes. I didn’t find anything much here on them, however. We access them via the Chapin Creek TH at the 7 mile marker on Old Fall River Road. That trail is high, and gets you even higher in a hurry. I love the trail to the peaks–I call it my "sound of music" trail. (Dorky, but just humor me.) It’s a beautiful trail with awesome views almost from the very beginning.

We’ve done all three consecutively a few times–it takes me, my husband Jinks, and our 14 year old son Jinks Jr. about 8 hours. But we can be on top of the first, Chapin, in an hour if we hoof it. The kid could be up there a lot faster if it weren’t for mom and dad slowing him down, he’s a billy goat. I remember what a big deal it was making it to Chapin my first time, maybe six years ago, as a newbie. I’m in so much better shape now than then, that’s for sure! I like to take other newbies up there and give them the thrill of a big peak without a long approach.

In 2004, we were trying to get all five summits for the first time (Chapin and Ypsilon each have two.) The clouds started coming in early, maybe 10:30. We decided to skirt Chiquita and aim for Ypsilon which I had never summitted. Maybe 20 minutes from the summit, we made the decision to turn around, a decision we loathe making, but hopefully have the brains to do so when necessary. I took a picture of the guys putting on their rain gear, a picture I later entitled, "Right before all Hell broke loose".

The storm came on with a vengeance. We were being pelted hard with rain and sleet, which wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the LIGHTNING BOLTS all around us. We knew we had to get down as quick as we could, and we started running through the boulders. I slipped and fell twice, once on a knee and once on my butt. The noise of the thunder and the storm was deafening. We were descending as quick as we could, not the same way we had come up, but just trying to get to lower ground. We were way above treeline, near the summit which is 13,514 feet.

We got into a bad place on the mountain. We were on some cliffs that were impossible to descend (now immortalized as the CLIFFS OF INSANITY.) Jinks was on a ledge about chest height above me and pointed to a talus slope about 20 feet higher. He said we needed to climb up to it, so that we could climb down it. I realized just then how exposed I was–it was a sheer dropoff below me. I felt a wave of panic come over me, and know that it was the grace of God that helped me climb up that 20 feet. I then crabwalked down that 200 feet or so of talus, and when I got to the bottom, I cried real tears of relief as I realized we were now safe on the tundra. All we had to do now was find the trail, and hike on out (still probably 3-4 hours).

We had a brief respite from the lightning, but the rain continued steadily. And then the thunder returned, and we realized we needed to get lower yet, below the treeline into the forest. And we still hadn’t found the trail….

An hour later, we STILL hadn’t found the trail. And now the entire area was totally socked in by clouds. We couldn’t see the peaks, we couldn’t even tell what mountain we were on. There were no landmarks. We didn’t have a GPS. All we had were a map and compass, and we had no real idea WHERE on that map we were!

We poured over the map, while the rain poured over us. (Thank God for waterproof maps!) The entire side of the mountain had turned into a stream, and my gore-tex boots were full of water–I could feel it squish with every step. At one point, I sat down, took off one boot, and wrung out my sock. I never did get around to doing the second one….

We charted our course, determined what direction we needed to be going, and didn’t deviate. We would look at the compass, and find a tree or a rock we needed to aim for, and get there. We climbed over trees, slushed through streams, and kept going. It was cold, but I was dressed for it. I knew, however, that moving was keeping me warm, and if we had to stop or even bivouac for the night, we would be really cold. And I hadn’t packed dry socks that day! We each had cell phones, but of course, exasperatingly, no tower. I at one point suggested to Jinks that we reclimb a peak to see if we could get coverage. "Who are you going to call?" he asked me. "A ranger!" I said. "I’d rather get eaten by a bear!" was his reply.

We kept on this course then for some time, and it rained on us the entire time. Maybe another hour went by, and we did some hard hiking. We finally topped out after a hard steep push, expecting to see the trail or at least some familiar landscape, but were disappointed again. At that point, we stopped and I prayed aloud for God to help us find that STUPID TRAIL–we went twenty feet farther, and were suddenly standing on it!

We rejoiced LOUDLY for just a second, and then started hoofing it on out! We were back to the truck in 30 minutes, having wandered for hours and covering lots of territory through the forest.

We got in the truck and turned the heat up as high as it would go. I took off my soggy boots and socks, and had a good cry. I’m not sure why, it was just pretty emotional. I thought for a while my hiking days were over, what I had enjoyed so much I would never enjoy again. What I needed was a hot meal, a hot bath, and a good nights sleep.

The next morning, as expected, climbers amnesia had set in. Jinks has a saying, "There’s never a bad day in the mountains." I guess he’s right.

What had seemed so bad wasn’t anymore. We got out of there, had a great story to tell, and a little more experience to draw upon. It’s funny, I don’t look back upon that day as a bad experience, but a good one. It was a good day in the mountains. CCY has become a favorite hike of ours. We went back the next year, and did all five peaks–we nailed them!

16-Oct-2006

OK, I just figured out this "currently reading" function. And I have been CURRENTLY READING this book way too long….but it’s a LLLOOOONNNGGGGG book, 732 pages. I hope to finish it soon! In fact, I hoped to finish it today, but had less reading time than hoped for. The story of my life!

We went to see Pip’s freshman football game today–they won 16-0, and are now 6-0 for the season. Pip recovered a fumble, awesome! Enjoy it kid, because life ain’t always that good to ya!!