The first day was a climb of about 3,000 ft, but on pavement, and though the sun was intense, my low gears and the smooth road made it easy; 29 miles accomplished in about 5 hours including stops. A spring provided a cool down for my head, Sam's camper provided haven from the sun for lunch, and we were rewarded in the afternoon with a cool dip in Lolo Creek. Beauty. The fresh smell of the cedars was invigorating; we celebrated how wonderful to be in the mountains.
The second day was gravel, and another 3,000 ft of climb, but again the road was graded fairly well, and with my heavy gear riding with Sam rather than on my bike frame, the going wasn't fast but not too strenuous. We entered the official National Historic Trail corridor. My body felt the strain of the climb, but my spirit was so invigorated by the environment that it didn't matter. Being a berry-lover, I was a little dismayed there was not a huckleberry to be found. We saw others looking for berries; it's the right time, but the abundant bushes that I passed were barren the whole day. Sam thought perhaps the year had been too dry. The barrenness continued all the way to our goal 27 more miles in, Rocky Ridge Lake.
The lake was stunning, my body was tired, the smooth road made me (overly) confident, and we decided a layover day at the lake was in order. "Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted in the nations; I will be exalted in the earth." This is my life verse.
Be still and know. Stopping, breathing deeply, taking time to reflect; we need to do this. A need for rest is built into the very fabric of nature. Day & night. Summer & winter. A time of work, a time of rest. It was a day to savor being alive. Life itself. What a gift. We were entertained by a chipmunk feeding on bear grass bloom stalks; his weight so much, the whole thing bent nearly to the ground. We saw sign of bear, elk, mule deer, wolf (didn't see the animals themselves though). We enjoyed a dip in the lake, that was warmer than I'd thought it would be. We prayed and celebrated Jesus, creator & sustainer of life by sharing communion before we departed. When was the last time you had an opportunity to stop and contemplate life? Maybe you can't spare days in the mountains, but how about a few moments in morning or evening, a few hours on a day off; a day given for sabbath rest. What restores your soul? We certainly were refreshed by the majesty of the scenery, the song of the stars in the night sky, the fragrance of the forest.
Good thing we'd gathered strength in being still that day, because the next day was a killer. Up, down, up, down, up, down; crossing old granite buttes then descending the valleys between them. But not without reward; on the cool northern slopes we found our berries. How delightful to find bushes loaded with fruit when I thought there would be none. We enjoyed a second breakfast. Then we struggled with the ruggedness we were warned about. In places there were so many rocks in the road, Sam hardly gained much distance on me in his truck. The uphills were gruelling; the views at the top stunning. It took about 10 hours to make 24 miles, which meant we were still out there during the height of the hot afternoon. Boy did we feel whooped at the end of the day!
When Lewis & Clark did this trail they had snow and cold to battle rather than heat. Roughly 70 years later 750 men, women & children, with horses and what possessions they could take, fled along this ridge. Treaty had been broken. Desiring lives of peace and freedom, four bands of Nez Perce and one band of Palouse chose to run rather than go to a reservation. Hurry to get ahead of the soldiers, and grief for the warriors lost in battle and heavy hearts for the homeland they were leaving behind must have been their greatest struggle.
It was clear we couldn't make the remaining miles in the time allotted. A similar pace was needed, and two more days of this without aslow down or rest were not in me. More alarming, however, was the truck's use of half tank of gas in a single day. We didn't have the range to make the goal. It was only a few miles to a road that led back down to the highway; fuel supply (or lack of it) dictated the decision.
The next morning after Sam had headed down the mountain, I tarried as I felt the grief of leaving. I'd looked forward to doing this trail for about a year. Now the sights ahead would go unseen; the miles not ridden because of our circumstances: lack of time & lack of gas. Will I ever have the chance to come here again? Disappointment. I wasn't ready to leave. And just when I connected with this thought "I'm not ready to leave" and felt the emotion of it, the Spirit whispered to me: how do you think they felt, when circumstances forced the people to leave a treasured homeland that gave life not only to their family but also to their ancestors for centuries before. And I was overcome with compassion for their pain. I can't imagine it. It was a 9 mile descent, and at first I had to go ever so slowly to see the road through the tears. Sam parked part way down and road his bike back up to meet me, as he had done many times the past few days. This time, in addition to sharing the ride he shared my tears and prayed for the restoration of the people. How fitting that God brought a man who served the US military for years to pray for restoration of the damage done by unjust actions of the US government. God IS a God of justice who desires restoration for all.
We descended to the Lochsa river valley into a veil of smoke from nearby forest fires. Later, I read an exhibit that said the women had sung songs of sorrow as they walked the ridge line trail. I had sung songs of joy. I hope and pray for ashes to be turned to beauty, mourning into dancing, tears into laughter, death into new life; this is the promise of the Creator for his people and his creation. A new heavens. A new earth.
No comments:
Post a Comment