Climb Every Mountain: My Week On Wilderness Expedition

            Last week, I had the privilege of traveling on a Wilderness Expedition with members of our high school youth group. Our goal was to climb Mount Silverheels near Denver, Colorado.

            Colorado has been dry this summer, and many know that there have been a number of fires that have taken place throughout the state. Although we saw the smog from the smoke, we were blessed and did not personally encounter any fires on our expedition.

            Three guides led us, two young men and one young woman. The first two days, I was convinced that they considered their mission to kill us. We arrived on Saturday, were issued our gear, packed our backpacks, and practiced setting up our tents, which we slept in on Saturday night.

            On Sunday, the guides trained us to get ready for climbing the mountain. First, they took us rappelling, an exercise in which you, by faith, throw yourself over the side of a mountain and hope that the cables, which the guides had attached to you, keep you from falling over 100 feet to your death.

            After that, we loaded up our backpacks and marched up another mountain to establish what they called “low camp.” I found myself sweating profusely. Part of the reason was that I was carrying a fully loaded backpack that felt like it weighed 300 pounds. Another reason was that I was wearing a long sleeved Under Armor shirt, which I thought had been designed to help you feel cool in the summer. 

            I was mistaken; it was designed for the cold of winter.

            Seeing as how the temperature was still in the 90s at that low level of elevation, I might as well had been hiking in a wool jacket.

            The next day, Monday, we hiked to “high camp.” If you want to simulate this, find yourself an exercise vest that weighs about 80 pounds and walk up the stairs of a building about the height of the Empire State Building.

            All of this exercise, mind you, was designed to break us down. Boy, did they succeed. Upon arrival at “high camp”, I wanted to kiss the ground like Pope John Paul II used to do. Instead, I luxuriated in the intense pain I felt in my back and shoulders.

            This was definitely a good news/bad news scenario. The good news was that I felt like I was seventeen again; the bad news was that I felt like I was seventeen again… after my first day of two-a-days in August for the start Fall football.

            For years, I have told Timothy and Annie that I would accompany them on one Wilderness Expedition when they were in high school. Last Monday night, I began rehearsing my speech explaining to them why I was too old to ever climb another mountain.

            One thing about all of my muscular exhaustion: it did lend itself to a good night sleep.             Amazingly enough I awoke Tuesday morning feeling physically much better than deserved. All of us were sent out by our guides into the woods of our “high camp” mountain in order to enjoy three hours of solitude with God.

            All we took with us were our Bibles, a pencil, and a Journal. This was the best time of the week for me. Our guides had prepared us well to spend time with God. Indeed, nothing grooms you for meeting with God like having somebody try to kill you.

            Those three hours flew by quickly. By the time our solo time was over, I felt like I had experienced a spiritual “reboot.”

            We spent the rest of the day resting and getting ready for our trip to the summit.

            On Wednesday we left around 5:30 AM local time to begin our trek to the summit of Mount Silverheels. This time, we only carried a daypack instead of a backpack—a tremendous moral victory for me. Consequently, I felt like I’d actually prepared well physically for this endeavor. We reached the summit near noon, after traveling over several smaller peaks. The terrain for the last half mile to a mile consisted only of rocks that were typically around ten inches by five inches and weighed a few pounds. Walking on those rocks was challenging, especially because they afforded many opportunities for twisted ankles. Fortunately, we escaped that trial.

            Standing on the summit of this mountain that was over 13,000 feet tall was truly satisfying. What made it more so was making the trip with my middle daughter, Abby. Abby was in fantastic shape, and was always at the front of the line. I felt proud to hear one of the guides, and one of the other trekkers, say that Abby really encouraged them with her singing and joyful attitude.

            Most of us considered the trip down from the summit to be the more difficult one. With the pressure of gravity, trying to walk carefully and slowly down such a steep incline was difficult; it was as if someone were standing behind us constantly pushing us.

            No story is a good one without adversity. In our case, it was the thunderstorm, which struck shortly after we started down from the summit. Extremely high winds blew rain sideways as we tried to stay dry while walking as quickly as possible… before lightning struck us. All of us had safely arrived to “high camp” by 3 PM. Overall, our hike lasted a little over nine hours albeit time seemed to pass by much more quickly.

            The rest of the week was anti-climactic. On Thursday, we hiked down the mountain from our “high camp” and returned to the base of wilderness expedition in Salida for a well-deserved shower and closing banquet. Friday, we traveled 17 hours by van to return home about midnight Saturday.

            I read where it is estimated that only 1% of the world has ever climbed to the summit of a mountain. I feel a special kinship with the group I accompanied on this experience–particularly with my daughter, Abby.

            There was a moment that was very special to me on Wednesday when we were on the summit of Mount Silverheels. I was talking to some of the other hikers when I looked up and saw Abby off in the distance at the edge of the summit, by herself, looking intently at the vista before her, which stretched for 50 or 60 miles. She seemed especially beautiful in that moment

            When she headed back toward our group, I strode over to meet her. I invited her to go back over with me to the spot where she had stood, and I put my arm around her. I rehearsed with her our journey up until that point. I then prayed with her as we thanked God for the blessings of that expedition.

            Wednesday, I repented of my Monday night thoughts of retiring from trek forever. I think I still have one more trip in me. I’m marking the first week of July 2017, on my calendar. My appointment will be with Timothy and Annie; we are going to climb a mountain.