Maybe it was slightly impulsive.
Okay. Definitely impulsive. I'm not sure what possessed us to want to hike almost 30 miles in one day. I believe it was the challenge, the thrill, and the pure curiosity of what that would feel like.
On Monday, friends from my ministry team Chris and Kara and I embarked on a wonderful journey around Shoshone Lake which would include a great 29 miles of hiking. Beginning our trip by 8:15am, we were able to complete the trip by 7:20 pm, putting us at about 11 hours including breaks.
I remember the beginning somewhat. We were astounded by the glory of the lake which is so pristine and calm mainly for the fact that no motorized boats can be used in it and the length of the trails calls for only the most serious of hikers and backpackers to enter into its presence.
From mile 5 to mile 12 to mile 23 the terrain changed so often. From grueling hills which we thought would never end to geyser basins where we could easily have touched the hot springs, I am confident these changes in the trail made it more enjoyable. Of course, having flat ground for the last 7 miles made it much easier than it could have been.
I cannot lie. I am sure I almost reached dehydration. Yes, we had iodine pills to clean our water, but I feel like I almost drank the lake's amount of water in the past two days trying to make up for my lack of it before. As far as making it....we did. And within the last 10 miles I recall not even being phased by the ridges we had to climb. We kept a steady pace...and laughed at Chris when twenty five mosquitoes swarmed him constantly.
Finally, I remember hearing Kara say.."It's less than five minutes guys! I promise. No more." Then, around the corner, we saw the trail head. Then the car. I think we were all in shock during the drive home. We wondered why we had done it. If anything, we were glad it was over.
Metaphor after metaphor, we couldn't stop being reminded of the ways the physical correlates so much with the spiritual. I won't take the time to name every one of them which we came up with (you run out of things to talk about after a while), but I can tell you one that was stuck in my head for at least fifteen miles..At this point we were halfway and there was no turning back on the loop...especially after I knew what kind of ridges I would have to climb if I did.
"Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you. Make level paths for your feet and take only ways that are firm. do not swerve to the right or the left, keep your foot from evil." Proverbs 4:26-27.
Sometimes walking forward is absolutely all you can do.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Pitch Black Kitchen Wars
After each morning of enjoying the sun, going on a hike, or journalling a bit, I find myself entering the kitchen door once again. Following this ever so usual action, I begin my shift by preparing roasted garlic, throwing a pan of beef tenderloins, osso bucco, and baked potatoes in the oven, and hydrating myself with a big glass of water of course. I always get distracted by brief interactions with the AM line cooks headed out or chatting with my friends from pantry, but if anything, the work gets done.
I will not lie. It has simply been one of those weeks, clear blue skied and intensely sunny, during which every day at about 2:30pm I try to convince myself that calling in would be worth-it, just this once. Of course, I have as much success calling in as I had skipping classes in high-school. (For those of you who didnt know me then, know that I never really ever skipped class.) So, if anything, I throw on my black and white checkered pants, proudly put on my chef jacket, and cover my bunned hair with my black chef hat. Complete with my name tag, I travel on to work.
This week began with a series of events that proved work in the kitchen to be unpredictable and vitally requiring flexibility. On my Monday (code word for first day after my weekend. This is different for everyone and can be quite confusing. Of course, when it is someone else's Monday, you give them sympathy. When it is yours, you have no choice but to drain others of their sympathy.) The night began like any other night. Yet, within 45 minutes, two shortages of power sent a thrill throughout the kitchen. However, this wasnt our usual two minute power outage. The blackout menus came out after 20 minutes of losing power. I quickly began to realize the effects of no power on broiler. My ovens were off, my garlic mashed potatoes and sauces were getting cold, and eventually my eyes were playing tricks on me so I could barely see the beef tenderloin I was cutting. "Hmm, I think this is Medium." I am confident the green glow sticks and scarce amount of headlamps did the trick.
After two hours, the lights came on and life was slightly normal again. I must admit, there was a quick burst of adrenaline sent through my spine when I realized I was working in the pitch black serving bison and lobster tails.
And then, never fails, I was ready to start my weekend when I walked in yesterday. Within the first 30 minutes of serving I had at least 20 large medium bison on my grill. Whew. To top that, I was slightly frustrated that my "hot spots" had moved, and every bison that looked mid well on the outside was definitely rare inside. Clearly, I found out at the end of the night that half of my grill wasnt even set up right. Hmm. There are practical mechanics to everything I presume.
I really do love my job. I cannot complain as these random turns of events creates an atmosphere of wonder and new expectation. When all else fails, we just start singing random songs on the line, calling out our usual quotes, and if anything, pulling out the floor mats to start the cleaning process and go home. To do it all again the next day.
I will not lie. It has simply been one of those weeks, clear blue skied and intensely sunny, during which every day at about 2:30pm I try to convince myself that calling in would be worth-it, just this once. Of course, I have as much success calling in as I had skipping classes in high-school. (For those of you who didnt know me then, know that I never really ever skipped class.) So, if anything, I throw on my black and white checkered pants, proudly put on my chef jacket, and cover my bunned hair with my black chef hat. Complete with my name tag, I travel on to work.
This week began with a series of events that proved work in the kitchen to be unpredictable and vitally requiring flexibility. On my Monday (code word for first day after my weekend. This is different for everyone and can be quite confusing. Of course, when it is someone else's Monday, you give them sympathy. When it is yours, you have no choice but to drain others of their sympathy.) The night began like any other night. Yet, within 45 minutes, two shortages of power sent a thrill throughout the kitchen. However, this wasnt our usual two minute power outage. The blackout menus came out after 20 minutes of losing power. I quickly began to realize the effects of no power on broiler. My ovens were off, my garlic mashed potatoes and sauces were getting cold, and eventually my eyes were playing tricks on me so I could barely see the beef tenderloin I was cutting. "Hmm, I think this is Medium." I am confident the green glow sticks and scarce amount of headlamps did the trick.
After two hours, the lights came on and life was slightly normal again. I must admit, there was a quick burst of adrenaline sent through my spine when I realized I was working in the pitch black serving bison and lobster tails.
And then, never fails, I was ready to start my weekend when I walked in yesterday. Within the first 30 minutes of serving I had at least 20 large medium bison on my grill. Whew. To top that, I was slightly frustrated that my "hot spots" had moved, and every bison that looked mid well on the outside was definitely rare inside. Clearly, I found out at the end of the night that half of my grill wasnt even set up right. Hmm. There are practical mechanics to everything I presume.
I really do love my job. I cannot complain as these random turns of events creates an atmosphere of wonder and new expectation. When all else fails, we just start singing random songs on the line, calling out our usual quotes, and if anything, pulling out the floor mats to start the cleaning process and go home. To do it all again the next day.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Water. Water. Water.
It never fails. There is always someone who runs out of water on every hike we take...no matter how strenuous. Thankfully this has not yet resulted in real danger due to others carrying plenty of water, but the thought of it challenges each one of us to throw an extra bottle of water in our pack before we hit the trail.
This past weekend, we hiked up Avalanche Peak. Yes, it's as hard as it sounds. People say that the mountain once had a series of switchbacks which would steadily guide you up the mountain. But of course, in our American way, people became impatient with the trail and started scaling it straight up. The peak rises 2600 feet in just over 2 miles. So, knowing the feat ahead of us, with breathe heavy and tired calves, we all grew silent no more than a half a mile up the mountain. I kept repeating in my head, "Walk slow but don't stop moving. And drink water whether you think you will be able to breathe or not." (I must remind you of the challenge it takes to breathe and drink from a camelback and continue hiking all at the same time. It's a skill I am convinced.)
I realize on a trail such as this one, running out of water would be absolutely devastating to the possible success of reaching the top...alive. Dehydration is not something to be messed with. I've been there before and never want to return.
In John 4, Jesus talks about being the Living Water. I was reminded this week in a devotional about the effects spiritual dehydration has on our daily life. Irritability. Selfishness. Lack of focus. Envy. I'm sure you can name a few things that have overflowed out of your heart from depleted time with the Lord. I've known for so long, but it doesnt take much to forget how vital filling my mind with truth and sitting before the Lord is to my ability to face the emotional, mental, and spiritual struggles I face each and every day here in Yellowstone.
Someone once told me that when we start actually feeling thirsty, we are pretty close to dehydration. My thought today is...drink up. Allow your heart to be flooded with the unfailing love of Jesus.
This past weekend, we hiked up Avalanche Peak. Yes, it's as hard as it sounds. People say that the mountain once had a series of switchbacks which would steadily guide you up the mountain. But of course, in our American way, people became impatient with the trail and started scaling it straight up. The peak rises 2600 feet in just over 2 miles. So, knowing the feat ahead of us, with breathe heavy and tired calves, we all grew silent no more than a half a mile up the mountain. I kept repeating in my head, "Walk slow but don't stop moving. And drink water whether you think you will be able to breathe or not." (I must remind you of the challenge it takes to breathe and drink from a camelback and continue hiking all at the same time. It's a skill I am convinced.)
I realize on a trail such as this one, running out of water would be absolutely devastating to the possible success of reaching the top...alive. Dehydration is not something to be messed with. I've been there before and never want to return.
In John 4, Jesus talks about being the Living Water. I was reminded this week in a devotional about the effects spiritual dehydration has on our daily life. Irritability. Selfishness. Lack of focus. Envy. I'm sure you can name a few things that have overflowed out of your heart from depleted time with the Lord. I've known for so long, but it doesnt take much to forget how vital filling my mind with truth and sitting before the Lord is to my ability to face the emotional, mental, and spiritual struggles I face each and every day here in Yellowstone.
Someone once told me that when we start actually feeling thirsty, we are pretty close to dehydration. My thought today is...drink up. Allow your heart to be flooded with the unfailing love of Jesus.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Joyous lobster tails
You might have wondered whether or not I had disappeared into the wilderness. Although this may not necessarily be true, the amount of communication I currently have with the outside world definitely makes it seem that way.
I continue to feel like I'm in a surreal dream, constantly romanced by the mountains and lake around me, and thrown into a small world so unexpecting of what will come this summer.
We just returned yesterday from an incredible weekend in Gardiner, Montana with a ministry support family where we went white water rafting down 18 miles of the Yellowstone River, played beach volleyball in their backyard, ate great food, and danced the western swing for hours (which is something I could continue to do for hours on end). There is always such encouragement in actually hanging out with my team and a few others as it is very uncommon for us to all be together due to schedules.
Ministry has been good, but as I shared with a curious camper on Sunday, alot more of my challenge to love and pour into people is about 5% services of worship we lead and 95% living life with people. I shouldn't be surprised, but I have been overwhelmed by the number of people who have their own stories about who Jesus is to them, some which thrill me and others which sadden me. Of course, most of my interactions now are during work...the 3pm to close shift 5 nights a week.
To my surprise a few weeks ago, I was moved to PM Line cook (which means I am a part of a five guy team who serve hot food for the hotel guests in our Lake Hotel dining room) and then have been trained and thrown into the "Grill Chick" position of grilling bison, searing duck breast,and steaming lobster tails.Whew.It has yet to cease to be an adventure day after day. and a challenge.
I could say so much more. And the "more" is what holds me back from even trying to write. I struggle to put into words what I walk through here, and I feel like "falling behind" in my stories makes it worse, but I can try to relay some. Or at least enough to satisfy a slight curiosity that may exist in you. But if all else fails, know that Jesus has been working and challenging me every day as I face what I like to call "the seasonal employee life at Lake Yellowstone Hotel."
Love and Peace.
I continue to feel like I'm in a surreal dream, constantly romanced by the mountains and lake around me, and thrown into a small world so unexpecting of what will come this summer.
We just returned yesterday from an incredible weekend in Gardiner, Montana with a ministry support family where we went white water rafting down 18 miles of the Yellowstone River, played beach volleyball in their backyard, ate great food, and danced the western swing for hours (which is something I could continue to do for hours on end). There is always such encouragement in actually hanging out with my team and a few others as it is very uncommon for us to all be together due to schedules.
Ministry has been good, but as I shared with a curious camper on Sunday, alot more of my challenge to love and pour into people is about 5% services of worship we lead and 95% living life with people. I shouldn't be surprised, but I have been overwhelmed by the number of people who have their own stories about who Jesus is to them, some which thrill me and others which sadden me. Of course, most of my interactions now are during work...the 3pm to close shift 5 nights a week.
To my surprise a few weeks ago, I was moved to PM Line cook (which means I am a part of a five guy team who serve hot food for the hotel guests in our Lake Hotel dining room) and then have been trained and thrown into the "Grill Chick" position of grilling bison, searing duck breast,and steaming lobster tails.Whew.It has yet to cease to be an adventure day after day. and a challenge.
I could say so much more. And the "more" is what holds me back from even trying to write. I struggle to put into words what I walk through here, and I feel like "falling behind" in my stories makes it worse, but I can try to relay some. Or at least enough to satisfy a slight curiosity that may exist in you. But if all else fails, know that Jesus has been working and challenging me every day as I face what I like to call "the seasonal employee life at Lake Yellowstone Hotel."
Love and Peace.
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