What mountain top?

Bridge of Orchy to Kinlochhleven. 

Monday September 5, 2016

Today was my longest day. 34km according to my maps. 39km once you add in the distances to and from my accommodation to the trail. This was a long long day. That included beautiful scenery across the moors, the devil's staircase (seriously that's what it's called, not what I named it), mountain top vistas and mountain pass views. 

It was by far my favorite day for scenery. 

And so so long. The first part (22km) it rained. And was misty or foggy. So not a lot of pictures of the stunning scenery - some of which I could see. 

 

After a quick lunch break and a visit with some deer came the climb. The climb that seemed to never end. 

 

As I was climbing what is known as the devil's staircase (because it is so steep) all those mountain top stories kept coming back to me. 

Moses up on a mountain talking to God. 

Jesus and the sermon on the mount. 

And especially the transfiguration. 

When we talk about these stories we talk about what happens at the top. Somehow we never seem to talk about the climb. As I was climbing and climbing and climbing I kept asking myself if it was worth it? And I began to wonder what the disciples had been saying to each other as they climbed. "Where are we going?" "Why are we still climbing?" "What, exactly is the point of climbing this giant hill?"

I could imagine them expecting something important and life transforming once they reached the top. And perhaps, even answers. Clarity. So they climbed on. 

When I finally reached the top. The view was indeed stunning (despite the fact that it was still raining). But the clarity and clear concise answers I had hoped for did not magically appear.  Mostly I was wet and tired. 

And suddenly I had way more sympathy for those disciples at the transfiguration.  It was a hard climb and then they got there and experienced the transfiguration. A powerful moment.  But one with more questions than answers.  The climb, so long. So hard. Get to the top. Now what? This is it? 

Just as the climb surely takes longer than we want - so to do answers. And clarity. They're never as quick in coming as we want. And it seems, they rarely arrive in the big grand mountain top moments we want. Instead we find ourselves at the top of the mountain going "ok, so now I just go back down?" 

But the view sure is amazing. 

 

Follow your instincts... not the crowd

Crainlarich-Bridge of Orchy

Sunday September 4,2016

Today started out well. The sun was shining (not always the reality here) and despite the pain in my feet I felt otherwise good. The short day the day before had served me well. I was ready to walk! 

The scenery was lovely, and I passed some interesting historical sights including the ruin of an old monastery. 

 

But that's when things went off the rails. There was a fork in the road. And rather than looking for sign posts or checking my map. I followed the two groups ahead of me. 

At first this seemed like no big deal. But before long I'd climbed a hill for about 1.5-2km and the path I was following was gone.  All that was left was field. And more field. And a lot of mud. And some water puddles. And did I mention the mud and field. 

I looked at the groups ahead of me. Still doggedly trying to climb the hill. But I turned and looked down.  Bellow me was a farm house. I figured there at least I could get directions! So I trekked down the hill. Through more mud and water. Climbed a fence and found my way to a path. 

Turns out this was the nice level path I should have been following all along. 

I thought it felt off but I trusted the people ahead of me more than myself. 

How often does something just not quite fit for us be we continue on because it's what everyone is doing?  It seems to me this is the life of faith. Knowing when to follow the crowd and when to say no, that's not quite right.  It's just a little off. We can do better. If we lean a little more toward Christ and a little away from the pack, that, I think, is where we find our sign posts, our path, our way through the wilderness. 

There's always a way if we're willing to trust the one leading us. 

 

It's ok to say no.

Inverarnan-Crainlarich

Saturday September 3, 2016

 

Today was day 4. And a break day for me. Only walking 10km I reached my destination by lunch (all while walking with someone else and a bit slower than my normal pace). And I thought about going onward to make the next day shorter. But I reconsidered. And am so glad I did. I can sit with my feet up for a few hours. Catch up on some writing. Maybe even get some of these posted!! 

And take care of the cold that is threatening me. 

Sometimes it's ok to say that's enough for today. To take a break. To relax. To stop and appreciate what you've accomplished already. 

Today I am at the unofficial halfway point. 

3 long days left (or 4 more reasonable days but more about that later once I decide). 

So here. Halfway across the West Highland Way. I will relax. And rest my poor sore toes. And rejoice in hot tea and some biscuits.  And maybe even find some soup for supper!

 

The theme of the day is mud and rocks

Today is sponsored by Advil. 

Rowardenan-Inverarnan 

Friday September 2, 2016

 

Day 3 was hard. And long. And I was tired. But then a bit of Advil. A whole lotta well here we go. And off again...

 

Today was muddy. And and so many rocks. All the rocks really. Some large ones helping you to cross streams or rivers. Others to cross mud pits. Some to form alms or staircases up and down parts of the hills (surely designed for people much taller than me). And some just to be in the way. 

It got me thinking about obstacles. Those we put in our own way, making our journeys more difficult and those we see as obstacles but are actually there to help us. We encounter both all the time. And some of the way obstacles give way to he coolest things (like finding Rob Roy's cave) and some ease our passage (like crossing some of those streams) and some we make out the be worse than they would have been. 

I was trying to avoid a bit of mud (although by that point there was no reason to. I was very very muddy). And so I stepped to the side on a large rock. Turns out the rain that had made the mud also made the rock slippery. And I fell. Not far or particularity hard (which is lucky as I was walking near a very large drop off down to Loch Lomond) but fall I did. Into a thorn bush. All trying to avoid the simplest of obstacles. A little bit of mud. Scratched up I learned that lesson but wondered about all the other times I (and I'm sure others) make things harder on ourselves then we really need to. 

Somedays you just gotta go through some mud. 

 

The voices in our heads

Drymen-Rowardenan

Thursday September 1, 2016

 

One of the things they don't warn you about on long distance walks is the voices in your head. Who will be speaking to you today? What will they be saying? Will it change moment to moment?

Here, for me, it changes constantly.

Sometimes I found myself singing hymns. Especially the old ones. How great thou art especially. But many others. 

Other times it was Dory (from finding Nemo) she showed up when my feet hurt the worst. Just keep swimming just keep swimming. 

Sometimes it was a drill Sargent. Especially on the large hills. Get yourself up that hill!!

And other times it was actual people! I've met several folks along the way. There was a group of us that all stayed at the first place together in Drymen. And we've kind of been looking out for one another. Some walk quicker than others so you pass each other and then meet again at the end of the day. But when we meet on the trail the faster (sometimes me, sometimes not me) will slow down and chat for a bit. How are things? Etc. 

One couple also from Canada that I've seen a lot of I walked with for a longer period of time on my second day. And it was hilarious how we would all groan at the sight of another hill at the same time. And now I hear their voices too. Just one step at a time. You can make it. One step at a time. 

 

They've joined my cloud of witnesses. They've been my cheerleaders as I've been theirs. 

The voices we hear that support us, offer us guidance and help. Ground us spiritually and give us so much room to do things we never expected. 

I am grateful for all those I hear in my head. Including all those folks from back home who I am missing! 

Here my soul rejoices

Milngavie-Drymen

Wednesday August 31, 2016

 

Have you ever been exhausted and yet so calm or happy or fulfilled that it didn't matter?

This was day one of the West Highland Way. The first day of 154km hike (+ the km to your sleeping destinations no one warns you about). 

The hike was beautiful. As promised. And very tiring. Also as promised. But somehow my soul just lifted. As I crossed my first 10km and entered the actual highlands it was as though my soul has always known this place. I had come somewhere I had been missing and didn't even realize it. 

 

My soul sings in these hills. Even as my feet ache. 

My soul waits on the Lord...or airplane parts

My soul waits on the Lord....

Or airplane parts. 

Monday August 29, 2016

 

Before departing for the 5 weeks of my sabbatical that are to take place overseas I felt myself getting more and more anxious. And I could not figure out why. Part of me was over the moon excited. And part of me thought I have made a terrible mistake and this was a terrible plan. I was both ready to go and sure I would never be ready. 

How often do we all feel like this?  

Once I arrived in Halifax for my 5 hour layover I thought ok. It'll be fine. But I'm not one for waiting.  I hate waiting. Patient I am not. 

And soon my five hour layover was 7 hours. Then 9. Finally, after a 4 hour delay I was on my way again. Anxiety completely gone. Now I was ready. 

It seems that God was reminding me that sometimes, waiting is ok. That I don't have to be in such a rush ALL the time. Sometimes I can relax a bit. 

And an airport full of slightly grumpy yet still pleasant employees and travelers was an excellent reminder of this!