The Start of a New Mecca

Over the years, Christianity has taught me many things. One of those being the importance of personal reflection for a troubled soul: an open conversation between you and God. I couldn't think of a better place to spend the weekend than in an area that reflected his majesty the greatest. I spent my trip to Shenandoah National Park thinking about a lot of things. One of those being how badly I need to get in shape for the summer. Even though I only managed to squeeze out 3 miles out of yesterday afternoon/evening, I was still pretty wore out after toting 40 lbs up a talus-covered 50-60% grade (Any trail that has the words "Devil's" and "Staircase" in them usually is anything but easy). However, if there's one thing about backpacking I love, it would be the emotions and the heightened sensations you start to experience. Nestled in a fold of a mountain side, devoid of any of the urban sounds that cloud our aural world on a daily basis, I retreat to a world with a more somber tone: a barren landscape whose land tells the story of a harsh winter and a scorching fire season. The few opportunities I had to gaze pass this surreal world into the valley, I managed to steal a glimpse of the canyon and valley below me. Now, I've always said I would like to travel the world over and work wherever I could, but if I choose one place to retire to and live it would definitely be in the Shenandoah Valley. The views I'm exposed to as hike are the main reasons why. As I hike, I find myself doing a lot of things in my mind. I find myself first thanking and praising God for the land he created for us; for the Appalachian and everything painted on them. I found myself thinking about other places to travel to backpack. I thought about working out west, I thought about Thru-hiking the AT, I thought about my father, I thought about wildland firefighting, I even thought about Antarctica. One thing that never crossed my mind was anything may have been plaguing my consciense before I left for the hills. Now, anyone that has been backpacking, and I'm mean truly backpacking...5 or 10 miles or more, can tell you how much of a retreat it is from normal everyday life. When I finally set up camp and as night fell, I started to relax more and really got to pondering as to what I want to do with my life. After dinner, I crawled into my tent, wrote in another journal I have, read part of the book I'm reading (Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Anne Dillard) and the shut my eyes only to wake up in the morning, slightly stuffed up but otherwise refresehd, to hike the 7 odd miles back to my car. Now, I haven't done a hike like this (by myself) in years. Well before my dad died, well before I had any direction as to what I wanted to do in my life, and well before my current relationship with God. Maybe I started a new personal trend, maybe I started my own mecca. One thing's for sure is that I walked out of those woods with more than the gear on my back.