Dead Ends

Hungry for more, we went back to the Koksilah. The water had dropped over the past week, and we chose to not get our canoe wet. We would have been walking long, shallow, and rocky stretches. No doubt, we would have returned with barely a shell from all the rocks we would have hit.

Abandoning the river, we set out to find Grant Lake. With our topo map in hand, we wanted to locate this hidden and seemingly remote jewel for a future adventure in canoe exploration. We found the two trail entrances that would take us there. Our map did not indicate it, but the barbed wire, saw-mill blades, and jagged iron shards that were formed into a fence gave evidence that this area was off-limits. So much for that option.

On to amateur photography. Cameras always help when your outdoor adventure options hit dead-ends. We drove from from Mr. Hospitality's Retreat Center and came to some trails meandering along a tributary to the Koksilah. Where we parked, there were a few pick-ups having carried ATV's and motocross bikes. My friend was the first to notice all of the trash in the back of the pick-ups. I was first to notice the trash... everywhere. Crystal flowing streams, sweet-dew air, soft-white morning sky, moist and deep green moss-covered firs, and the sight of death in the form of personal, consumed waste.

No worries, the trail we began to venture was immediately clean and clear of the reminders of the careless few. The trail was wide, seemingly used often, and well-maintained. Within 100 meters, it stopped. No narrower overgrown trail continuing on, just a dead end. Going back to the start, we trekked on the opposite side of the stream on a similar trail. It ended just as quickly.

Ah well, we made our own trail up a steep embankment and came to another trail. This one was wider, most clearly a long backcountry route to explore. Not so. One more dead end. We had enough dead ends for the day and headed back to our car. Yet, death followed us, or we followed it. As we made our way back, we must have seen eight or ten dead deer. Shot? Hit by a large car while they were all crossing the road at the same time? Who knows? After we had seen a few, I commented, "Man, I wonder how many more we're going to see?" Within about 90 seconds, I saw more.

Crazy, weird sort of experience. A trip. Looking ahead or looking down, we saw or came upon dead ends, death.

Yet, there was this one bright spot looking up. My friend was the first to notice it. Through the trees, the sun was rising. It lighted the rising fog and danced between the white birches and mossy evergreens. The contrast of colors between the trees was hard to miss. I had, though. My eyes, mind and heart were stuck and focused on the stuff on the ground. He nudged me. Looking up, I saw light, complexity, and depth of life. A fire glowed and brought a birth to my heart and senses. A few left the trash, and one or two ended the lives of the deer. Many who came this way saw those reminders. No one but my friend and me saw the ember of grace that blazed. Well, God, too. He put it there.

"And we have the word of the prophets made more certain, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts" 2 Peter 1:19.

"You who share in the heavenly calling, fix your thoughts on Jesus..." Heb 3:1a