defacing respect

if my father had ever caught me spray painting a statue, a picnic table, or even a rock, i would have been punished, and humbled…reminding me of how small i was on this grand sphere we call earth. and that would not have been a bad thing. because i needed to learn to respect not just the planet, but also the people hanging on to the big blue ball in orbit. 

sure i did some dumb things in my childhood, but i never defaced anything with spray paint. i had common sense, which does not seem to be too common anymore.

this morning, since it was the coolest morning in a month, i headed out onto a popular rail trail to hike for awhile. parking along a one lane gravel road, i hiked in to one of the more remote sections, which was covered in a canopy of trees, until i came to the entrance to a half mile tunnel…

twenty years ago, there was no graffiti on the front walls, and certainly not  on the rocks nearby…

  

the magnificent tunnel, arching high above me, stretched forward, into the dark. but even into the darkness, graffiti on the walls, and empty spray paint cans on the graveled floor, assaulted my senses. thankfully no one appeared to be tall enough  to insult the upper walls and ceiling high above me…

 

years ago, there were a few random pronouncements, mainly from some machoistic boys bragging about their sexual conquests with various girls. now, all manner of garbage defaced the walls of this historic tunnel.

what i want to know is who are these idiots disrespecting America’s natural and historic treasures? are these the masses who were never disciplined, who were never taught the meaning of respect, who never saw value or worth in human beings, nor in anything God created?

surely, these are the signs of a perverse and wicked generation, one destined for self-destruction…unless they are confronted with reality.

 

between a rock and a hard place

how does…a series…well, maybe it was three, no four…times of nightly trips to the cupboard to eat peanut butter….only by the spoonful…effect a wee walk on the wild side?

throaty breathing and slight dizziness….have I walked too far for the state of my body type?

• should I phone the doctor after I get back to the land of network service?
• is that a pain in my side, or a sadistic side of pain?
• should my fundamental plan of action blame it on “old age?”
• didn’t my grandmother suffer from the same thing at this age?

if you go too far into the woods, you have gone too far.

I know. I went too far. ever have a washing machine in your stomach?  the agitator is active…your innards swirling around. but the worst sensation in middle age is build-up in the muffin gut. I have heard of this malady…and it sounds terrifying. almost as frightening as eating the wrong kind of moss, succumbing to a vegetative breakdown, while armed with a “Foraging In The Wild” Guidebook in the deep, dark woods, too far from the parking lot.

they say there is nothing like vacating your colon in the woods. it is part science, and about 3/4 art. one must be careful not to fall into the….

…butt first. green leaves work better than spotted ones. or ones with that burnt-toast look. and, in light of certain Quranic references, small pebbles are really not a good idea…

but…a clean colon is a happy colon. and a happy colon abruptly ends prolonged sentences…of…

so forget about the body type…you can morph after a simple vacation. a walk in the woods can expand into a session long enough for a youtube series on “survival in the wilderness within two miles of your vehicle.” just carry plenty of hand sanitizer, soap and water, or other essentials necessary for your vacation…

back out on the trail…the weight that so easily pulled me down was gone. the trail ahead opened to new possibilities. the topography that once seemed so strenuous became a joy, and I danced up the trail like a young buck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No turning back

where coal trucks once rumbled, the land resembles more jungle than park…and the trail underfoot dusty- the gravel gone and only stripped, bare earth remaining beneath your feet. but it is not a lone trail…birds hiding in the bush sing to you. and as you walk, a distinct croaking sound…off at an angle…reveals a hidden pond or wetland, behind a wall of dark-faded green. this trail is like a run-on sentence; the end-sight from here will become just another tail added to another tail…yet more of the same.

it is not a trail for the weak willed. it is like a life commitment, a covenant made; for once you have traveled far enough in, there is no turning back. no turning back of any kind.

but…you will reach a destination, something worth walking for. and that will make all the difference…just as it does in the walk of life…

 

a walk by the river

out this morning for a walk in the high mountains…with this beside me as I went. 

a hike back into history

if you are like so many people in North America, you are tired of the bitter cold. So- I decided to take you back to a short hike I did one day into the woods near a historic late 1800’s/early 1900’s oil field area. 

This is a photo journey…

It was a beautiful sunny day, but chilly. As I hiked deeper into the woodland, more rock outcropping revealed ice…

...and shelter for small animals…

…and trails crossing small streams, as shadows formed in the wood….

and up hills…

...the trail  bringing me to history hidden beneath the tree canopy…

remnants remaining of an oil field more than a hundred years old…

...for a pleasant hike back into the pages of history…

My peace and The Presence

along my walk today, i stopped to sit awhile and listened to the sounds of creation…a flow of melody by an orchestra of pebbles and stones washed over by an unrelenting stream…

…it was music to me, and to the two deer stalled along the other side of the trail…

…but others heard it, and ignored it, as they passed by on bicycles, their mission indifferent, aloof from the sound and sight of an intimate moment with The Presence.

still others worship the gentleness or fury of what they term “nature,” without understanding that their longing is not for the Creator, but rather His raincoat. but nothing could mistake The Presence if one would just sit awhile…

A Peaceful Place

After reading a recent post online, I thought of this place…one of the most peaceful places I can remember…well, with the caveat that it was also in bear country, near wild huckleberries, a treat for bears.

But I did not encounter bears, I encountered this. I can imagine a region in Heaven being like this- a place so magnificent, so relaxing, you have to sit down and drink it all in…which is what I did here.

A Hiking Adventure

I have created a new blog for those of you who would like to follow my hiking adventures…while you watch or read from your device, laptop, or whatever.

It is at-

ahikingadventure.wordpress.com

PS There seems to be some kind of error right now on the page. Hopefully, they fix it.

the road to the top of nowhere?

i have a headache the size of a mountain this evening…and it does not come from scaling heights to glimpse a fantastic view, like this one above Lost River, deep in Nowhere, West Virginia. No, it is a problematic headache, the kind that Jacob had before he wrestled with the angel, or the kind that Moses had as he looked up at the peak  they called “the mountain of God.” I admit, sometimes in this walk of faith, I feel like a Sontaran in a candy shop- not quite knowing how to respond tactically to something that currently makes no logical sense. Still, I cling to what has always worked- to wait expectantly for the Lord…as He is the God of my salvation. (Micah 7:7)

This picture- from the past- reminds me of the time I climbed this mountain- not alone then. It reminds me that people, in their selfishness, can choose the wrong road, the wrong mountain height, only to find themselves so waylaid and so far from home. I do not want to go there…so I will continue to trust in the Lord, even when my thoughts are so much smaller than those of the Lord.

Hillbilly Bart and Someday

Last Saturday I was driving back to town when I encountered a couple of weathered-looking backpackers walking along the two-lane highway. A long-bearded fellow introduced himself as “Hillbilly Bart,” and his athletic sidekick introduced herself as “Someday.” With names like that, and packs like they had, they had to be serious thru-hikers…

Hillbilly Bart and someday are hiking the Great Eastern Trail, a concept put together awhile back that is intended to be a more westerly alternative to the Appalachian Trail. It runs from Alabama to New York and these two hikers have already covered more than 1,000 miles on their journey. 

Meeting these two adventurers was a real blessing, especially since they are the first “official” thru-hiking couple to attempt the entire trail. You can follow their travels at www.gethiking.net.