My Winter Adventure and the Arrogance of Man

7,500 vertical feet in 12.6 miles. Overnight stay at timberline in subzero temperatures. 26 total miles for a winter adventure to remember! I was going to the top of Pikes Peak and back... Solo (all by myself). It was supposed to be the ultimate in manly winter adventures. I had been preparing for this trip for about a week and finally all the preparations were done. The alarm clock goes off a little while after 3 am. It's just me and the mountain. The trailhead was eerie with only a faint glow from the city below and the heavens above. I could hear the enormity of the wind as it muscled through the valley near the trail. The hills and mountains in front of me were absolutely sinister. No turning back though, too much planning, too much effort. Swallowing my fears I started off into the dark at 4:15 am with my huge pack and headlamp. I wasn’t to make it all the way. I turned around a little over three miles in after meeting my match and seeing some things in a new light.

The first four miles of the trail are a pretty steep climb so it doesn’t take long to get above the city and into real wilderness territory. It was still in the predawn hours when I looked East to see the city snuggled into it’s warm self, comforted by it’s power plants and police force. I was jealous of its safety compared to my danger but wouldn’t admit it since I had put myself in this situation. Here I was alone in the wilderness, exposed. No safety net here. I was in mountain lion territory in the freezing darkness with ice, snow, and rocks surrounding me. I realized that I had long since abandoned all reasonable safety and was entirely exposed. Despite my layers of clothing I felt naked. As I overlooked the city where just hours before I slept so soundly, thinking that I was safe, I saw the arrogance of man in light of the fierceness of the wilderness. The city stretched for miles and miles, but in the end, its glory couldn’t overcome the terror of the backwoods that I now found myself in.

The city wasn’t that big from my perspective. In contrast the mountains and wilderness were on a scale that swallowed and spit back out the toughest of men. The woods are scary. When you are out there in the predawn hours the wind isn’t pleasant, but instead it's eerie, haunting you to the core. Storms kill people when they are out in the wilderness. (note: ask Justin about his lightning experience, or Brian about the guy on Long’s Peak) People get lost and never come home. Avalanches consume proud adventurers and rocks fall with power we can’t match; the dangers are countless. As a guy I want to conquer these things and the fear that comes with them. However, as right as I think that feeling is, I cannot fail to give to the wilderness the respect it commands.

I have been trying to paint the picture for you of what I felt that morning, but the best thing to do is go sit in the woods at night by yourself for a long time. That will give you a perspective of what a terrifying place we live in and how arrogant man is to build cities and think that he is safe. A beach umbrella doesn’t conquer the sun. A roof has not beaten the storm. You are not conquering Mother Nature, you are barely surviving! Where would you be, proud man, without your gas powered heat and warm bed? As I looked out from my fearful position in the trees on Pike’s Peak Barr Trail I felt the truth of the verse “For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.” (Revelation 3:17) The city did not rest peacefully that night because of it’s doing, but because of the mercy of God. “In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety.” (Psalm 4:8) It isn’t four-wheel drive or layers of sheetrock and siding that keep us from disaster, but the sovereign hand of the Almighty. That predawn morning I saw the arrogance of myself and the city of Colorado Springs who would both, without a doubt, cower before the waves of the ocean if they came upon us, and yet had disregard for the one who calms the raging sea. “Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help, who rely on horses, who trust in the multitude of their chariots and in the great strength of their horsemen, but do not look to the Holy One of Israel, or seek help from the LORD.” (Isaiah 31:1) As I hiked I kept praying that God would keep me safe… a prayer that I have never pray behind a locked door in my warm bed. How arrogant.

A Plea from 18-Year-Old Photoghraphs

Home for Christmas. A couple of years ago, after I went to college, my parents moved which for me meant a frantic "pack and move" on a quick trip home. I just threw everything in boxes since I already had everything important with me up in Fort Collins. The move didn't bother me, I had neutral feeling about the whole thing. Retrospectively I do miss our old house, but oh well... at this one there is a 7/11 just around the corner. Since I'm home for awhile with nothing to do I asked my dad if he could dig up a couple of those boxes from storage so I could properly go through them and trim down on things I no longer have use for.
My journey through the past years in these boxes brought me almost to tears. Aren't memories interesting in that way? Nothing sad or happy about the past, the old days weren't any better than these. Yet nonetheless I felt the tears welling up as I sorted through the old baseball trophies and toys from my younger days. I came across some photos in one of the boxes, an assortment of all kinds of pictures from my childhood through my teenage years. There were pictures of friends, graduation parties, people I didn't know and I even found a few of my dad in an f-4 from when he was a fighter pilot. (I found one picture of me around 4 years old playing the piano with no pants and a flannel shirt on... I guess you never grow out of some things.) As I gazed at the faces, at my own young face, I felt the past staring at me with the questions of what have I done since then and who have I become?
My work is God's work. If I die and few people know, and the ripples of my life extend no farther than an occasional warm memory for a few people, that's okay. To God be the glory, not me. I don't have to be an Augustine or a Luther or a Piper; God appoints who those men shall be. (Just a note: I do sometimes crave the immortal attention that men like that get, and so I have to be careful) However, may my influences in this world be limited by God's infinite wisdom and power, not by my own apathetic, easily amused heart that so often craves ease and instant gratification rather than the riches of the glory of God.
I heard a thought once that said something to the effect that the best type of propaganda is the type that does not allow itself to be recognized as propaganda. I believe the converse is true when it comes to matters of truth. The truth in the most danger is the truth that does allows itself to be recognized as truth. Think about it; how many times have you heard the phrase "I know that's true, but...?" How many times have you said it? I know a lot of true things, and yet my life often lacks the signs of the value which that truth carries with it. For me, one of the most constant battles is to continually feel the weight of the preciousness of what we are about. As I looked into the grainy faces on those old photographs the truth and weight of these words came flooding back to me... "Only one life, twill soon be past. Only what's done for Christ will last."
Most people reading my blog know that phrase and agree that it is a true statement. Oh please don't agree so easily! Let your heart wrestle with that thought as you plan out your day and who you will pray for before you go to bed tonight. Let it hit you! "Only one life, twill soon be past. Only what's done for Christ will last."