We get an early start on Friday, armed with a bear canister to protect our food. The back country will be home for the next three days. Two minutes into the trail we come across a doe and fawn feeding in a field. Creeping closer and closer, we get within ten feet of them. They are not use to being hunted by humans, so they have no fear of us.
Our trail takes us along a beautiful creek about 20 feet wide with small rapids and still pools. One spot tempts us to stop and swim, but we keep moving. It's a nice level path, a good trail for talking as we walk along. About four miles in we notice Ireland creek flowing down from off the mountain to our right. Our trail follows the flow of that creek as it steers us steeply upward on switchback trails through the forest. The sound of water rushing over rocks is constant, even when we can't see the stream. No more talking now, just concentrate on breathing. One step after another. Keep moving upward. Higher and higher.
At dusk we get off the trail to find a camp site, not an easy task on the side of a mountain. In our search we follow two deer up the mountain, almost as if they are trying to lead us to the perfect campsite. Finally we find a fairly level spot. We fix a tasty meal, keeping our eyes pealed for a bear. We were told that their sense of smell is better than any creature in the world, 2000 times greater than a human. After dinner we stash our food cannister 100 feet from our tent.
Stars shine brightly, even through this canopy of pines over our heads. The sound of the creek nearby is like a sweet song, but still I lay awake. It's so easy to feel God's presence in a place like this. I feel close to my son too. Finally weariness wins out. Sleep comes.
Posted on
Fri, August 21, 2009
by Chris Spitters