Tag Archives: Hiking

Desideratum

17 Monday Oct 2022

Posted by in Poetry, Writing

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View From the Top of Knob Hill in Edwards, CO

This week’s post is a poem inspired by various musings. The study I’ve been conducting on Isaiah 45:7 has been foremorst in my mind and I was recently blessed with the opportunity to spend some time in nature. I had expected it would be a time to more deeply experience the Holy Spirit and, while it was, it didn’t happen the way I thought it would. I’ve been thinking on that experience as well and then remembered 1 Kings 19:11-13. The result of all of that is this poem. 

Desideratum
I had a great gift given me
To seek a place I could be still
I had come to the trail's head
And I started up the hill
I felt myself battered & crushed
Convinced all Man touches he destroys
And I needed time to be away
Escape from all the noise.

I wanted time alone with You
Without my mind being swarmed
By all the screeching clamoring
I wished a deeper connection formed
With no more concrete underfoot
I was sure I'd hear the sound
Of Your voice-but though I listened close
I heard nothing from the ground.

A storm was brewing in the mountains
And though it wouldn't reach me for some time
A breeze arose which refreshed and cooled
Soothed me during my climb
I was sure as I ascended
And the air around me thinned
I'd hear You speaking loud and clear
But You were not in the wind.

At last I reached the hilltop
There was no one else around
I sat down to rest a bit
On a small bench I had found
I wondered if I'd hear You now
That I sat still on my own
But all I had was certainty
I was not sitting there alone.

Your Presence was there with me
And at once I began to sing
A song of Your lovingkindness
I felt my soul within take wing
Buoyed by no strength of mine
But a stirring deep inside
I heard You sing along with me
From that place where You abide.

Nature is all well and good
It is important to take rest
But I need not ever search for You
I remember how I'm blessed
In You I live and have my being
Your Spirit lives inside of me
And I do not need to look elsewhere
We exist in seamless unity.

I rise and begin my descent
In a very different mood
Than the one I had started in
I am healed and renewed
This truth I have I must declare
Perhaps I will write a poem
And tell all Your Love Purpose
Is to make each heart Your home.



Gaining Strength As I Go

01 Friday May 2020

Posted by in Writing

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After a two year hiatus, I am back to blogging!  Before I made Renaissance Woman public again I went through all of my old posts updating, checking links, deleting (a lot of deleting) and I found it apropos that my final blog post in April of 2018 was about making forward progress even if it’s at a turtle’s pace.  Two years later and the theme of that post is still valid.

The last two years have been fraught with difficulty.  My biggest obstacle occurred at the end of 2018: a major surgery I spent what felt like all of 2019 recovering from.  My neighbor described his wife’s last surgery to me and said it is a fight to come back from such a thing.  I agree: it felt like a battle and it became obvious early on it wasn’t one I was going to win in a day.  My first post-surgery walk went no further than the mailbox on the corner of my block which is an embarrassingly short distance.  I’d love to say I made more progress the next day but I didn’t.  My recovery was one of two steps forward, three steps back, and then at last four steps forward.

It took months but I finally walked a full mile.  I even took a trip to the mountains with a friend in July of 2019.  I admit I was grateful for late snow storms that kept hiking to a minimum as I had overestimated my ability.  Still, I’m never one to turn down a chance to be in God’s Creation and I didn’t collapse during our hike at Fish Creek Falls. I call that victory!

Falls Two

I had to learn to be gentle with myself.  I am still learning to be gentle with myself because I have found that six weeks might be enough for incisions to heal but the rest of me is on my own clock.  I can do nothing to alter the speed of this passage of time.  All I can do is surrender and take one day at a time one step at a time.  I still wear the turtle pendant I mentioned in the last post and it has been a tangible reminder to me that any forward movement, even if it is just one step, is better than stagnation.

Stagnation is a terrible thing.  When I think of stagnation in a physical sense, I think of my lymphatic system.  This amazing system running through my body is so important for my health and yet it has no ability to move itself.  What do I mean?  The lymph has no heart to aid it as it moves upward through my body to my subclavian veins and thus relies on the motions of the muscles and joint pumps.  I must move or my lymphatic system is unable to do its job and my immune system suffers.  This pumping of my lymphatic system doesn’t require insanely difficult exercises. (I always think of Tae Bo.  Is that still something exercise lovers do?)  All I have to do is move a little bit throughout my day.

I found this quote:

“Life is never stagnation. It is constant movement, un-rhythmic movement, as we as constant change. Things live by moving and gain strength as they go.” ~ Bruce Lee

I think that’s beautiful.  “Things live by moving and gain strength as they go”.  There isn’t an aspect of my life I can’t apply that to: especially writing.  Writer’s speak of the flow of words and so I write to keep that flow constant.  I will write here on this blog, in my journal, in my notebooks, in my manuscript (manuscripts now-I had to put my series aside to conduct research on a few things and I’ve been working on a stand alone book since April of last year).  I write, I walk, I move to keep stagnation at bay.  I seek merely to gain strength as I go.

River

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Good Old Wintertime

11 Saturday Mar 2017

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Snow

It’s still winter according to the calendar but snowy days have been few and far between here in Colorado.  I need some cold days because my cookie recipes are stacking up but I can’t complain too much: cold weather makes me feel old and creaky.  On really cold days I entertain myself by thinking of seeking warmer climes, however; I’d miss winter.

I like snowy days.  Every sound is muffled and the world is quieter, stiller, than usual.  At least, I like them when I’m inside and warm.  I remember one time when I wasn’t much of a fan of cold and winter.

My dad had taken a job as foreman on a ranch and moved us north.  My brother and I were excited to be living on a ranch and were sure we’d each be able to have a horse.  It was the dead of winter and, practically the moment we arrived, the pipes in the house froze.  I don’t remember much of that time other than the bitter cold.  I do remember being put to bed with so many blankets and coats I could barely move.  I woke up on the third morning after our arrival to the sound of my mother packing our boxes and we were gone.  That was the coldest I ever remember being and the shortest I ever lived in one place.

Usually though, I like snow.  I like watching the flakes fall, I like the feeling of isolation.  I used to like hiking in the snow, though I don’t do much of that now.  All other sounds are muffled and the crunch of snow under my boots, the creaking of branches, and the occasional drop of snow to the ground all are inordinately loud.  Even when with other people, hiking in the snow made me feel alone.  I always felt more in touch with my own breath outdoors in the snow-perhaps the act of drawing the cold into my lungs-and even my thoughts seem to move more slowly.

I once tried to capture this feeling in poetry.  I wrote the included poem for my English class while at University and it’s one of my earliest attempts at word painting.  It’s been years but I remember my classmates liked it.  I hope you’ll feel the same.

One With Winter

It was a moment I will always remember

I stepped out of the trees

And a magnificent sight lay before me

A fresh snowfall covered the meadow

Beautiful, unmarred, soft, covered in a thin shell

The light from the moon sparkled like diamonds

All around me was silence-no movement for miles

There was only the fog I created as I breathed.

The coldness of Winter was in the air

It caressed my face, my lips

Winter found a kindred spirit in me

It entered my skin, my blood, my bones

And we were one.

As Winter I felt such peace-such nothingness

I was the ice in the air and the snow expansive before me

Beautiful, still, cold

I let myself sink into the heart of Winter

Until I was becoming lost in the cold

And had to fight my way back to myself

I took care as I walked around the meadow

Reluctant to mar the beauty I had enjoyed.

I returned the next day

To see my snow covered meadow but the snow was no longer there

It had melted-submitted-to the loving warmth of the sun.

 

 

A Walk in the Park

26 Wednesday Oct 2016

Posted by in RW Out and About

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falls-2

A friend came out for a visit a few weeks ago and we celebrated beautiful weather in Colorado by spending the day in Rocky Mountain National Park.  This day, we turned left rather than heading straight into the park and visited Bear Lake.

My friend is a low lander and made some comments about my state not having enough air.  My family and I plied her with water and warnings not to ignore any feelings of dizziness then, as my friend was game for hiking, headed to the lake.

Bear Lake was well worth the stop.  It’s a beautiful place.  When my friend and I visited, the sun sparkled on the water, the sky was clear overhead, and a pair of ducks sought sustenance.  My friend asked if Bear Lake was called “Bear Lake” because it was shaped like a bear’s paw and I had to tell her I didn’t know.  A bit of research on Google led me to this blog post where I learned that the grandfather of a woman named Sally Ferguson shot at and missed a bear while hunting in the area in 1912 and that’s how the lake earned it’s name.  Now I know.  There’s a great deal of information on the History of Bear Lake in the post: I encourage you to check it out.

bear-lake

Bear Lake

Bear Lake isn’t far from the parking lot so my friend felt up for a hike.  I’ll hike whenever I get the chance so I was chomping at the proverbial bit to get onto a trail.  There’s a lovely walk around the lake but we weren’t far from the trail to Alberta Falls.  My friend said she’d never seen a waterfall before and thought she was up for the hike.  My family was content to entertain themselves and the two of us started off.

Hiking with my friend was an experience I’ll ever forget and probably the most fun hiking I’ve ever had.  The two of us giggled over the fact she was hiking in designer jeans, Pumas and carrying a Coach bag slung over her shoulder.  I looked like I’d crawled out of the bushes by comparison.  We laughed, snapped photos, and took breathing breaks all the way to Alberta Falls.

I resorted to Google again to satisfy  my own curiosity about the naming of Alberta Falls and found I liked this website best.  The hike isn’t difficult.  There is an increase in elevation once Bear Lake is left but the incline isn’t ever too intense and the trail is well maintained.  There are bridges that add some fun to a basic trail and stones to prevent tumbling head long into a ravine.  (I had to be kept from falling to my death in search of a photo; my friend is much more level-headed)  The hike up to the falls took about an hour and, when we finally reached them, my friend said the hike was well worth it.  She rested for a bit while I had a grand time crawling around on rocks in search of the best waterfall picture.

alberta-falls

Alberta Falls

It was a glorious day.  Not only did we see two beautiful spots but my friend got a stamp in her National Parks book and I purchased a book of my own: a history of women settlers in the area now in my stack to read.  I’ll be hard pressed to top it when next my friend visits.

It isn’t possible to find a bad view in Rocky Mountain National Park but, if you get a chance to visit, check out Bear Lake and take the time to hike to the Falls.  Both places are beautiful and not difficult to reach.  I found them both to be accessible by all fitness levels.  Come to Colorado and decide for yourself!

The Anniversary of My Life

19 Monday Oct 2015

Posted by in Challenges, RW Out and About

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October 4th was the 17 year anniversary of my car accident. In two more years, I’ll have lived exactly half my life “normal” and half as a disabled person; a fact that feels meaningful to my pattern-loving brain. Perhaps it it, perhaps it isn’t.

I don’t actually celebrate my new life anniversary. There are times I intend to: it’s a good excuse to eat cake (as if I needed one!), but the 4th of October usually passes by and it’s only a few days later that I go; Hey! Another year of life! This year, I spent the 4th at Arches National Park in Utah. I didn’t wake up that morning planning to celebrate an anniversary. I’m not even sure I remembered what day it was. But, since I had my Hey! moment ON the 4th, I’m going to tell all of you about it.

My family and I planned to spend a week touring as many state and national parks as possible. My focus was to get as much hiking in as my body could withstand. I used to be quite the hiker: 9 miles round trip with a night spent sleeping on the ground was nothing to my younger self. Now, half that distance seems insurmountable. I physically can’t do it and my brain injury comes with some oxygen processing/breathing problems. Still, I do what I can and I’m lucky to have family that is willing to wait for me as I start up a trail. Bless my mother: I know she has visions of my passing out and my carcass sliding into a ravine but she never says a word beyond “be careful” and so, I start off.

There are several trails at Arches and I could have spent a week in that park alone, still not seeing all of it. I hiked around the North and South Turrets and considered hiking the Primitive Trail but, as I hadn’t established that plan with my family, I had visions of emerging miles down the road with no way of telling them where I was. I passed on that trail and, instead, hiked to Delicate Arch. I’d misread the distance and thought the distance was a mile round trip. How bad could it be?

The answer? Bad. Delicate Arch is a difficult hike up a rock face with no trail to speak of. The way to the arch is marked out by little cairns and, believe me, those little pile of stones became my best friends. And, the round trip distance is 3 miles. Note to self: make sure to thoroughly read the description before setting foot on a trail. At least I had plenty of water.

Trail? What Trail?

Trail? What Trail?

The first time I considered turning back was when the clearly outlined trail disappeared and I stood staring up at people scaling a rock face. “Don’t do it”, a voice warned.  I turned and stared down at the parking lot. My family wouldn’t care if I turned back. Sure, they wanted a picture of Delicate Arch but no one had any expectation of me pushing my body beyond its limits. Really, the only one with that expectation was me. I knew that if I gave up, I would regret it. I would feel like I failed. I wanted to see Delicate Arch. I wasn’t giving up. I’d take my time, stop and breathe when I needed to, take some sips of water. I didn’t need to compete with anyone. I didn’t have to feel embarrassed at needing to stop and breathe. I started up.

Suck it up, Kate!

Suck it up, Kate!

I don’t have words to express how difficult this hike was. I feel a little ridiculous: there were people who breezed passed me like it was nothing. But then, I passed people who were also dragging themselves up to the arch, red-faced and wheezing. Solidarity, my hiking peeps. I did stop, frequently, and there were many times when I considered turning back. Those considerations flooded my mind more and more as the pain in my back, neck, and shoulder set in and it became more and more difficult to stand upright. Still, I persevered. Like an idiot, I’m sure.

It's wider than it looks...

It’s wider than it looks…

The hike to the arch ends with a series of stone steps and then a ledge that wraps around a cliff wall. I recommend hugging the wall as much as possible. On the day of my hike, the wind was rather strong and the drop off from the ledge is significant. But, it’s worth it. I rounded the cliff wall and the rocks dropped from my sight. There was Delicate Arch. It stands alone in this vista of rocks and sky and was worth every ounce of energy it took to see it.

Delicate Arch

Delicate Arch

There were several intrepid souls who hiked down to the arch and took pictures with, under, and through it but I could not. I still had to hike back the way I came so I found a seat, caught my breath, drank more water, and enjoyed the view. I tried to take a selfie with the arch but my selfie skills are non-existent. My thanks to the stranger who offered to take my photo.

Proof I make it!

Proof I make it!

Down was, of course, easier but I admit I dragged myself into the parking lot. I laughed and told my family I was probably done with hiking for a day or two but I really wanted to burst into tears and stick my body in a hot bath. I had a picture of the arch and, in my seat in the van, I asked myself if all the pain and exhaustion I felt was, indeed, worth it. It was then I had my Hey! moment: today was my life anniversary day and I was out hiking!

17 years. I must, after all this time, accept I’ve made all the progress I’m going to make. I’m not going to get any better. I’ll never hike another 9 miles with two days of supplies, a tent, and a sleeping bag strapped to my back. I’ll never work a full time job. That person did-for lack of a better word-die in that car. Now, I must learn to live as this person. I must accept that every day is going to be a fight to push the boundaries of my limitations as far as I can. It’s going to be hard. I’m going to want to give up. But, if I press on, there will be moments of breath-taking beauty waiting for me at the end of difficult trails.

It is worth it.