Where the Air is Thin

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but if we look hard enough we can witness splendor in ALL of God's creation. However, in some places it seems the Almighty took extra care to get it just right. You know, those places that enliven our spirits, excite our senses and convict us of the sacred. Lots of places come to mind, but in the United States I think the four corners states — Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico top the list. Just thinking about the mountains, mesas and majesty stir my soul. And when looking at pictures from there—well, I'm downright giddy.

It's too bad I grew up in New Jersey.

But as you faithful readers know, these are the very places Dan's been working these last two weeks. On his day off today, he's off on another adventure. His challenge: hike to the top of Pike's Peak (elevation 14, 110). (I've spent my entire life near sea level. Is there even any oxygen that high?!)

All day I've been worried he might perish on the trails or flat out run out of air to breathe. Thanks to his nifty iPhone, I have proof he's not only alive and but quite well, albeit extremely tired. Since the scenery is so awesome, I thought you might enjoy taking the journey with me. So, strap on your boots, fill up your canteen and grab your walking stick. Let's go!

Trail head. 6:08 am. Lots of people here, perfect day should be fun.

6:22...sunrise!

1 hour in...first sight of the summit — way far away!

2 hours in...I hear the mountain taunting me.

4.5 hours in...approaching treeline...11,500 ft. 3 miles to go according to the guy we just passed. Running an hour ahead of schedule. Not sure if that means I'm a stud or need to slow down. Forget it, I know the answer...definitely beginning to feel the climb and the altitude. Quick rest, some fig newtons and Gatorade and then back on the trail. And what a beautiful day!

5.5 hours in. The sign says it all...a little low on water but otherwise all systems go!

The view the other way at 13,300. See the trail?

Victory is mine!!!

No matter where you encounter God's creation this weekend, be blessed.


"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." (Romans 1:20)

"Buck Up Little Camper!"--Part Two

Continued from Friday’s “Buck Up Little Camper!– Part One.” Read that entry before reading today’s.

We sat at our picnic spot in Indians Gardens, 3,000 feet into the Grand Canyon. With the canyon’s rock stratifications clearly marking geological divisions, it was as if we rested inside a gigantic prehistoric urn. The massive canyon walls stretched skyward. Ahead several more miles lay the Colorado River, the genesis of it all. It was tempting to stay in on our lush little oasis and savor the sights, but we had to hike out before sunset.

By now the morning’s shade and chilly temperatures had been replaced by plentiful sunshine and temps in the mid-80s. We began the long journey up and within hiking a few hundred feet I realized this was going to be more difficult that I expected. The sun's powerful rays sapped my strength. Sweat dripped off my brow. The ominous warning of an experienced guide we'd met rang in my ears, “Be careful of the sun.” Tales my husband shared from the book he'd been reading, “Death in the Grand Canyon” filled my thoughts. The Grand Canyon presents unique dangers to visitors and hikers. Every year people die here. I felt weak thinking about it.

My son and I usually pull up the rear of our hiking quartet. He wasn’t feeling great that day and lagged more than normal. I turned to see what was keeping him. He sat on a rock with body language that proclaimed, “I don’t want to do it!”

I set my misgivings aside and focused on the task at hand. “Buddy, we don’t have a choice. You can do it. Let’s keep going,” I gently encouraged—with little effect. So Mr. “Buck Up Little Camper” delivered his own version of a pep talk. Upward progress continued, albeit slowly.

Step by dusty step we moved forward. Little Bear and I in the rear and my daughter and husband ahead. My daughter's turning into an excellent hiker. Clad in her cute hiking outfit (of course!) she traveled steadily with little complaint. She and her dad chatted away, playing games and sharing observations. Snippets of their conversations drifted down to my ears like music. (Any meaningful conversation taking place between a teenage girl and her dad are rare treasures indeed. You just never know when the “moment” is right!)

We reached the first rest stop much sooner than anticipated and were encouraged to press on. Up. Up. Up. We reached the second rest stop. We were making progress. Up. Up. Up. The rim was getting closer. Promises of extra-large ice cream cones were offered as motivation. Soon the goal was in sight. We had less than an hour to go. The path didn’t get any easier, but knowing the end was near made the journey so much more bearable.

Eight hours after we started we climbed out of the Grand Canyon tired, dusty, hungry and so proud of our accomplishment! We did it. (And we only hiked half-way. Imagine what a feat it would be to go all the way to the bottom!)

Half-expecting congratulatory well-wishers to welcome us back, Grand Canyon Village bustled with tourists thoroughly unaware of our absence and nonplussed by our emergence. They scurried about taking in the sights, buying souvenirs and snapping obligatory pictures before their buses departed.

As we sat on the rim wall eating our ice cream rewards, I watched the passersby and pondered, You came here, but did you really see? And experience? Do you realize how much more there is to this place than this?

I think this is what Jesus meant when He said, “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14)

Jesus’ dusty sandals brought Him to a gate so small only He could find—and enter. By doing so He revealed a path for the faithful to follow. For those early disciples who did—Paul, Peter, Barnabus, Stephen, Timothy and so on—the journey challenged them in ways they had never imagined. They experienced scorn, ridicule, danger, suffering, discomfort, uncertainty, loneliness and rejection.

Did they ever plop down on a rock and cry out, “I can’t do this, it’s too hard!” Probably. But they encouraged one another and pressed on step by dusty step with the end goal in sight. Why? Were they nuts or gluttons for punishment? No. As hard as their journey was the Spirit sustained and guided them.

And they knew the promised reward at the end made it all worth it.

What does our path look like? If it’s crowed, comfortable, clean and carefree chances are it’s pretty wide too. It may lead to success in the eyes of the world, but it leads to destruction in the eyes of our Father.

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’” (Matthew 7:21-23)

It’s easy to miss the small gate. The narrow road is often overlooked, ignored or rebuffed. It’s dirty and difficult. It challenges us and makes us uncomfortable. It might be risky or dangerous. It’s unpopular and often lonely.

But Jesus promises it’s worth it. Plus He's sent the Holy Spirit to guide and sustain us. And an occasional oasis to delight and refresh us.

I am so eager to take the narrow road when it comes to life’s adventures. But am I so bold when it comes to following Jesus? Are my boots dirty? Or am I riding a tour bus, enjoying the sights, collecting snapshots and souvenirs but missing the real experience? Does Jesus look at me and say, "You came to me, but do you really see—and experience? Do you realize how much more there is to Me than this?"

Lord, I want to be bold in my faith. Show me the way and give me the courage to follow.

"Buck up Little Camper!" -- Part One

We had so much fun in Arizona I could write and write (and maybe I will). I know this story's going to be long so I broke it into two parts. Stop back on Monday for part two.


After years of dreaming we were finally here. My family and I “oohed” and “aahed” along with the hundreds of other sightseers taking in the view. Spread out before us was one of the most amazing sights in the world—the Grand Canyon. Over a billion years of geological history appeared as a breathtaking sculpture. We followed the masses along the South Rim, soaking in sights from different viewpoints, but the sheer grandeur made it impossible to fully comprehend.

By late afternoon the crowds had dispersed. Most of them returned to their tour buses and were on their way to the next stop on their itineraries. They came, they saw, they photographed, they left. We were lucky enough to stay a few days and experience the Canyon more fully. We witnessed the first light of day awaken the slumbering giant; we viewed the setting sun paint the canyon walls; we gazed at the dreamlike vista gently illuminated by moonlight. We even saw elk grazing on the lawn of El Tovar, a coyote sneak out of view, a condor soar below and other desert fauna scurry and flitter about. It was all incredible—especially the view of the canyon from our hotel room!

Of the 5 million annual visitors to the Grand Canyon most arrive at the South Rim and experience its beauty from the many overlooks along the canyon edge. Only about 250,000 descend below the rim and hike the inner canyon. And less than one percent makes it all the way to the river. If the view looking down from the rim is so spectacular, can you imagine what it’s like to stand at the bottom and look up?

My husband was an experienced hiker when we met. To win his approval (and because I considered myself outdoors-y) we backpacked together. Not car camping and hiking with a knapsack mind you, but carrying a fully-loaded backpack up a mountain, to sleep in the wilderness, with no running water or facilities…for fun.

Part way into one of our first trips my foot started to hurt, the weight of the backpack burdened me and I was just plain tired. It was too hard. I wanted to quit and go home. With tears in my eyes I sat down on a rock waiting for the love of my life to rescue this damsel in distress and whisk her off to somewhere more comfortable. Instead, he returned to where I sat, stood right in front of me, gently tapped my chin with his fist and said, “Aw, buck up little camper!”

It was not the response I wanted—at all. Certainly I could have stormed off in a huff, angry I wasn’t coddled as I hoped. But I didn’t. While I wasn’t particularly happy about it, I gathered my inner resources, picked up my gear and continued up the mountain.

That day I learned a valuable lesson that has served me incredibly well over the years. I can do far more than I ever imagined and character is built on the path less traveled.

So when we visited the Grand Canyon there was no question. We were going in. For the sake of our kids (and my no longer twenty-something body) we planned a day hike and not a multi-day trek to the river and back. Starting at the break of day we hit the trail, loaded with food and water. Compared to the views from the rim we were astounded by the ever-changing and dramatic scenery of the inner canyon. Rock layers stratified before eyes. 20,000 years passed with each step.

Inside the canyon we met a community of hikers invisible from the rim. We chatted with fellow day hikers on their way down and overnight hikers on their way up. How long did it take you? Where did you stay? How much further until the next rest stop? We even met fellow Penn State fans! Despite the adamant warnings against it, we met a young guy who was finishing up a one-day round trip to the bottom and back. But most memorable of all was a group of middle-aged women from Iowa. They were close to finishing a rim-to-rim hike that started two days prior. And they were still smiling! I thought to myself, if they can do it, I can too!

Within several hours we reached our destination 4.5 miles below the rim—Indian Gardens. This small oasis of cottonwood trees, fed by an underground stream, was an unexpected lush surprise and a wonderful place to break for lunch.
But, as they say at the Grand Canyon: Hiking down is optional. Hiking up is mandatory. So, after a brief rest we began the journey back to the rim.

To be continued...