ls it not God’s design that men should obtain assurance in any other way than by mortifying corruption, and increasing in grace, and obtaining the lively exercises of it. And although self-examination be a duty of great use and importance, and by no means to be neglected, yet it not to be the principal by which the saints do get satisfaction of their good estate. Assurance is not to be obtained so much by self-examination as by action. The Apostle Paul sought assurance chiefly this way, even by “forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus; tf by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of the dead” (Phil. 3:13-14,11). And it was by this chief means that he obtained assurance: 1 Corinthians 9:26 “Therefore I run thus, not with uncertainty.” He obtained assurance of winning the prize more by running than by considering. The swiftness of his pace did more towards his assurance of a conquest than the strictness of his examination. Giving all diligence to grow in grace, by adding faith, virtue, and so on, is the direction the Apostle Peter gives for “making our calling and election sure, and for so an entrance will be supplied to you abundantly into Christ’s everlasting kingdom;” signifying to us, that withouth this, our eyes will be dim, and we shall be as men in the dark, that cannot plainly see things past or to come, either the forgiveness of our sins past, or our heavenly inheritance that is future and far off, 2 Peter 1:5-11.

Day 2

Studying the map the previous day, we concluded that we should alter our course and head up the river avoiding gaining anymore elevation. The idea sounded great and the first mile confirmed our hypothesis. And then we reached the first river crossing. It’s one thing to cross a stream in without a backpack. Strapping 35+ lbs to your back and it’s little surprise that 8 straight river crossings slowed up the trip.

Flight of fancy

Spotting a nice campsite, the decision was made to make camp here and launch an early afternoon dayhike. Optimism swell, and we firmly believed that the 5000 feet of elevation gain to Mongollon Baldy was within reach. Prepared to hike back in the dark if need be, we started out with water, snacks, and a flashlight. 6 more river crossings and more ambiguous trail markers lead us to a “wilder” section of the river. Scrambling over and under the rocky riverbed, we were having a glorious time, despite our “lostness”. Soon the river narrowed, the rocks grew to boulders, and all signs of the trail had been lost.

So where’s the trail, again?

Seeing a steep washout on the eastern side of the river, we decided to climb up to get a better look. Eventually, our adventurousness lead to idea that we could actually summit the mountain. In our earnest, we never considered the chance of loose rocks further ahead. About half-way up, I took a gamble on climbing up a steeper route. Within 10 minutes, the ground below me suddenly began to give way. Scrapping for anything to secure a good hold, I found a rock just as my feet slide out from underneath me. A large rock rolled over my exposed big toe (one of the rare moments I wished I wasn’t wearing Chaco sandals). Light rain started dusting the valley and clasps of thunder were within earshot. It was time to come down. Not wanting to give up on climbing this without a single good picture, I gingerly slipped though several thorny bushes, stepping into a clearing. Beautiful

What’s a trip without an infamous “foot-foto”

The climb down was worse than the climb up. Several moments I held threw myself at the mercy of the mountain after a couple poor steps caused mini-rock avalanches. But as you would expect, Jeremy and I made it down without injury. I immediately found the largest boulder and gave it a big hug as a sign of my thankfulness to be back on solid ground. The walk back to camp was relatively uneventful, and we enjoyed a good night’s rest.

Day 3

Not wanting to push much farther with packs, we decided to return to the previous night’s campsite. Arriving around lunchtime, we unpacked and took to reading along the riverbank for the afternoon. The beauty of the area induces worship and gladness that God in all His majesty still desires to meet me. The night was equally relaxing.

Peace like a river attendeth my way

Day 4

With only a half day of hiking between car and campsite, we were on the trail by 7:30AM. The beginning of the day would be the most difficult, climbing 1200 feet in 2 miles. Keeping a slow even pace, the burning sensation in our calves finally subsided as the elevation flatten out. Proud to be moving so quickly, we kept pushing past the places that the trail once seemed unclear. Soon we were spotting the same mountains we had seen three days earlier. The difference was that today the clouds lingered overhead.

Day 4, Cloudy

And my preference - Sunny

The final 2 miles were uphill back to the trailhead and I decided to increase the pace from a leisurely stroll to a brisk walk. I had finally reached that “hiking groove” where miles peel off by the minute. When we reached the car, Jeremy asked why I had quickened the pace. It was only then I think I fully realized how heavy his pack had been. Considering he had been carrying ~15-20 more lbs than I had been, it was amazing that we had ever gone as far as we did. Thanks Jeremy for reminding me it’s not always about the hiking. Instead it’s about friendship, time shared together, and the encouragement that comes through godly fellowship. For that, I am most thankful. ]]> http://www.thetinymite.com/2008/05/26/gila-wilderness-part-ii/feed http://www.thetinymite.com/2008/05/26/gila-wilderness-part-i http://www.thetinymite.com/2008/05/26/gila-wilderness-part-i#comments Mon, 26 May 2008 15:49:44 +0000 reese http://www.thetinymite.com/2008/05/26/gila-wilderness-part-i/ It was only a matter of time before I raced back out the mountains. This time, Jeremy North joined me for a week in the Gila Wilderness in Southwest New Mexico. We met in College Station immediately after Nathan & Laura’s wedding, departing early Sunday and returning Friday afternoon.

The 900-mile drive

Leaving from College Station, the first few hours went quickly and it wasn’t too long before we had reached Sonora. Still less than half way to the Gilas, we kept trucking along I-10, passing windmills, dust storms, and a strange SPQR car.

Obviously, Senātus Populusque Rōmānus, but why 15?

Eventually we reached El Paso, and we ate at Rudy’s BBQ. FYI, this Rudy’s had a gas station with very reasonable prices! An oasis, to say the least. Still we knew that knew New Mexico would be slow going. At the border, a signed warned of our entrance into a “safety corridor” with double fines for speeding. Completely baffled at it’s meaning, we excused it - after all, this is New Mexico - the 3rd most dangerous state. The signage continued warning of drinking & driving, dust storms, driving without a seatbelt, and I’m sure there was a sign demonstrating how to hold the steering wheel properly at “10 & 2″ that we missed.

Nevertheless, we trudged on further in New Mexico, very pessimistic that a hill, much less a mountain range, existed. Actually, we passed several ghost towns and wondering how anything/anyone could live out hear. Land of Shatment seemed more accurate. Suddenly, mountains towered out from ground, and similarly our attitude grew taller. As the sun set, Jeremy’s Volkswagen approached the road leading to the trailhead, and it wasn’t long before we setup camp in anticipation of the journey.

Rain Creek Trailhead

Day 1

As morning broke, Jeremy and I woke early to load our gear before saying goodbye to civilization. With a little uncertainty as to location of the trailhead, we were soon hiking down the Rain Creek Trail. This momentary confusion was foreshadowing. Once hiking, the weather so pleasant and the mountains so majestic that it caused us to forget the hefty backpacks slung across our backs.

Desert meets forest

Eventually, the irony of walking downhill and moving closer to mountain peaks corrected itself as the trail sharply climbed out of the creek. Now, gravity started bearing down on those once-feather-weight backpacks. Jeremy was carrying an especially heavy pack, making the 1000+ foot elevation gain even more difficult. Not to be deterred we reached a lookout point and feasted on the panoramic vistas.

Is this really New Mexico?!

Eventually, the trail meandered through yet another ecosystem and lead us past an abandoned horse stable. Within 200 yards, the trail became unclear. Checking our position against the GPS revealed that we somehow had gone off the trail 0.2 miles back. Logic concluded that we had followed a spur trail to the horse stable. So we tried bushwhacking back to the trail and had no success. Frustrated, we ate lunch in hope that time would help sort out the confusion. Backtracking our steps we eventually found the trail and discovered an inaccuracy with the GPS map (In my defense, I was merely using the vector data provided by the US Forestry website).

Day 1 looking South from our campsite to the trailhead

Clearly, the first day was off to a rough start, but with most of the uphill behind us, it seemed the worst was behind us. And then we started downhill. Descending the 1000+ feet from the morning proved to be more tedious than originally thought, mostly due to lack of footing. At 2pm, we reached Mongollon Creek to filter water. A few minutes later we both agreed to call it a day and hope for better luck the next day. The afternoon was spent reading by the river’s side. Despite being several miles from our original destination, we declared victory. The day ended with good conversation over an open campfire.

The simple life

We woke up today with no real agenda, except to knock out a couple long portages before the end of the day. So we enjoyed a leisurely morning and solidify our goals before giving one last halfhearted attempt at catching a fish. No sooner were we on the water, than we reached “Hell Portage”. It was aptly named for the 200+ rods (or ~2/3 miles) portage through thick forest and rocky terrain. All this was manageable - it was the mosquitoes who made the portage truly hellish. Just look at how they assaulted Nathan’s back!!

Mosquitoes bite!

Low canoe crossing

Honestly, I think it took over 2.5 hours to paddle less than 2 miles and to portage a single mile. With the toughest part of the trip now finished, we both grew more aware that the trip was reaching its end. Not satisfied with calling it a day, we pushed on through Fraser Lake and after couple miles later we reached Thomas. Here was the only time we purposefully deviated from the GPS. While plotting the route in Google Earth, I wasn’t sure if a shortcut through the lake was too shallow to transverse. While paddling, we still weren’t sure until we came upon the inlet. What a nice find! It saved tons of time and brought relief from the headwinds that seemed to follow us everyday.

We setup camp and ate a backcountry version of Sweet and Sour chicken. As we began to eat, we noticed a few drops of rain falling. Not wanting to chance it, we threw all our equipment under the tarp and raced into the tent. It wasn’t but a moment later that the skies opened. For an hour the rain fell intermittently, giving us ample time to eat our dinner. Arising from the tents, we noticed the rain had stilled waters. It had also energized the mosquitoes, and to avoid their fangs, we paddled to the middle of the lake with a rod and a camera. I’ll let the pictures do the talking…

Our last sunset in the BWCA

The Boundary Waters

This is the Boundary Waters. Nothing can compare.

Day 6 - Lake Thomas to Snowbank Lake (13.6 miles)

In the morning I suggested that if we worked hard that we could finish the whole trip around dinnertime. Nathan heartily agreed and after our morning chores (filling the water, taking down the tent, etc.) we pushed our to the seas. The first 2.5 hours went like this: paddle 20 minutes, portage, repeat 6x. When reached the first big lake of the day (Ima), we noticed the strength of the winds.

Nathan studies the waves on Ima

Ima, with a severe crosswind, was the first test of our fortitude. When traveling 3 miles across a lake, it seems as if you are not moving. Still, we averaged around 2mph even with the wind. On the other side of the lake, the solitude that we had known for the last 60 hours vanished. For now on we would deal with more traffic that we had seen cumulatively over the last 3 days. Thankfully, we darted south after a couple lakes, leaving two groups of Boy Scouts behind. With the waters to ourselves we truly felt that we could finish our journey by the end of the day. In fact, by lunch we had reached the 2nd to last lake - Disappointment Lake.

As aside, it was disappointing to find that there wasn’t anything disappointing about Lake Disappointment. We ate our piecemeal lunch on the shore hoping the wind would eventually die down. Mother Nature had other plans. For the remaining 4+ miles of canoing we would be facing crosswinds or headwinds of ~20 mph. What joy to wind-n-water-weary sailors. But the taste of home was too close to back out now.

Snowbank

Disappointment had it’s testy moments, but it was hardly comparable to the challenge Snowbank posed for us. We had a long 1/3 mile portage to forget about the wind and think about how good a hot shower would feel.  Once put our canoe down, our attitude changed from joyful anticipation to fearful concern. The wind was howling across the lake, and we could see the whitecaps not far in the distance.  This was just in a small cove!! We still couldn’t see the lake itself. So we said a prayer hoping God might calm the waters (or at least let us walk on water if the canoe flipped).

Going straight through the waves, we battled to the edge of the cove when the wind began to grow noticeably stronger. Hearing each other talk became more difficult and soon the canoe drifted perpendicular to the waves, causing the canoe to be in a very vulnerable position. We retreated back to a small outpost, sheltered from the winds. We gathered our whits, and Nathan wisely suggested that we hug the shoreline. We prayed again and set off for home.

The wind was blowing hard against our starboard side pushing us dreadfully close to the rocky shoreline. I was very uncertain that we could make the run, and I tried to get Nathan to retreat back to the cove. He never heard me, and I later yelled “I trust you” as we paddled full strength. The shoreline soon receded, and we were safe from the rocks. Feeling confident that we could power through the headwinds and reach the other shoreline, we made a “line” for home. You can see how we had to maneuver through the waves to reach the finish.

See the entire trip on Google Maps

Once we hit the other bank, I soon broke out into an Irish accent, which later became turned Indian. Don’t ask for an impression unless you stick me back on the high seas. On shore, we were elated to be on solid ground. Can’t you tell?

Back on solid ground

With only a half day of canoing ahead of us, we thought our weary muscles could rest. The first couple hours agreed with this assumption.  It wasn’t long before we were on Lake Adams, only one lake away from our stopping point. Casually paddling along the river gave us multiple opportunities to enjoy the pristine islands and trees. Suddenly, the lake narrowed into a swampy marsh that we refered to as “the bogg” or “the mucky muck”. Whatever the name, it brought all paddling to a halt as we tried to pry the canoe through the shallow mud. Why not just walk the canoe through it? If you could only smell the stench coming from the much, then you would understand our reluctance to leave the canoe.

The “easy” section of the bogg

Obviously, the discussion centered on navigational inaccuracies. Luckily, our GPS cleared any potential disagreements, and we trudged along. Eventually, we found the portage and crossed over to Boulder Lake. What a sight, especially after the previous “lake”. It wasn’t but 30 minutes before we reached our island to setup camp for the next 48 hours. Yes, we really did have our very own island for 3 days and 2 nights.

Island living is the life for me

That night we took to the waters again in search of dinner. Armed with a bright lure, a nice walleye bite the line on Nathan’s first cast. Sadly, just as we were about to land it, the fish had other ideas and got off the line, taking our prized lure with it. Not to be discouraged, we threw out another line with a new lure. After 4 casts, we had another strong bite. This time we had a huge smallmouth bass one the line! As Nathan brought the fish to the boat, the weight of the fish ripped the lure out of it’s mouth. Lesson: Bring a net if you want to fish!!

Day 4 - Boulder Lake (0 miles)

Today’s journey? No where, absolutely no where! What a treat to just enjoy the wind and waves, to read a book, and to reflect on the upcoming semester.  Basically, it was just another day playing Tom Sawyer. One of the main purposes for the trip was to come up with a list of goals for the semester and to reflect about where we wanted our lives to go over the next few years. We had also hoped to catch a fish or two, but our interest in fishing declined precipitously after the previous night’s failed attempts.

Still, we had a great time just with our feet in the air and a good book. God has His way of bringing so much healing through quiet moments in the wilderness. This was one of those days.