Perseverance
The hike to Vernal Falls turned out to be a little too much for us. When we set off that morning, we were undecided about whether we would take the shorter path, retracing our steps, or continue onto the John Muir Trail, making a seven-mile loop. Much of the ascent is along a steep, rocky path, made slippery by mists coming off of the falls. About halfway up, I began to realize that the terrain would not be conducive to a safe descent. There would be no turning back.
Unfortunately, by the time we reached the falls, everyone was feeling pretty worn out. To make matters worse, we had no time to rest, because we were due to check out of our room at the Awahnee Lodge by eleven o’clock. As the John Muir Trail continued to lead us higher into the mountains, I began to fear we weren’t going to make it back in time. What a relief it was when we finally made it to the summit and began our downward trek.
We were somewhere near the six-mile-mark—with only one mile left to go—when we came around a switchback and found ourselves face-to-face with a bear. I grabbed our youngest son’s hand to keep him from running and began to slowly back up the trail. When the bear didn’t immediately attack, my thoughts began to focus on our options. We would either have to walk past the bear or retrace an impossible six miles.
While we were deliberating, two young guys came hiking up the trail toward us. They had to remove their earbuds in order hear my panicked question, “Is the bear still on the trail?”
No. They had not seen a bear. But they were pretty excited about the prospect of it.
It was the assurance we needed. We picked up rocks and branches, as some means of defense. And then we marched, singing, down the trail. Making it back to the lodge with time to spare.
Meditation:
Consider a time when you felt like you couldn’t go any further because of fatigue or fear. How did you go further?
Refuge
“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.” (Psalm 46:1-3)
We have a bit of a bad track record with our national parks trips and natural disasters. Luckily for us, the disasters always seem to follow behind us.
Several of the places we have visited over the past couple of years are now inaccessible to other tourists. Floods washed away sections of road through the Lamar Valley the spring after we visited Yellowstone National Park. The suspension bridge leading to the Grove of the Patriarchs in Mt. Rainier was impassable by flooding. And, more recently, sections of the Pacific Coastal Highway have been destroyed by mudslides.
But our nearest brush with danger involved fire rather than flood. On our last day in Yosemite National Park, we visited the Marisposa Grove, home to a collection of giant sequoias. Conditions had been extremely dry inside the park. Everywhere we went, we saw warnings posted about fire risks and restrictions. Apparently, someone decided not to heed the warnings.
We were safely on our way to Sequoia National Park the following day when we started hearing stories about a wildfire in the Mariposa Grove. Hundreds of tourists had to be evacuated by shuttle bus, down stretches of road lined by burning forest. If we had delayed our departure from Yosemite by 24-hours, we would have been on those buses.
It was a reminder of a difficult reality—Our lives are predictably unpredictable. But regardless of what is happening around us, we never walk alone. We have an ever-present Help in times of trouble.