Waterfront

About a week ago I had the opportunity to take this photo of downtown Long Beach, looking across the harbor from just north of the Queen Mary.  If you've never been to Long Beach and yet are wondering why this looks familiar, TV studios like to film here, including the crews of C.S.I. Miami and Dexter.

Hike Report: Mt. Whitney Trail

I set out on the hike with two goals, which were:  #1 - Enjoy myself and be renewed by spending some time hiking in the Sierras.  #2 - Reach the top of Mt. Whitney.  Having hiked to the top of Mt. Whitney before, goal #1 was much more important to me than goal #2.

It takes an average of 16 hours to hike from the trailhead to the top of Mt. Whitney and return.  Some folks take longer.  The group I was with began hiking at 4:15 a.m. last Friday morning.  It was dark, but dozens of eager hikers, along with a few bears, were at the trailhead, the hikers making sure their water bottles were full and their flashlights working, and the bears waiting for one of the hikers to set down their pack and turn away for a moment.  A moment is all the bear needs to sneak in, grab the pack full of food, and take off.

As we started hiking, we were surprised to realize that the openness of the forest and the nearly-full moon made the flashlights almost unnecessary.  What an amazing experience it was, to hike by moonlight, hearing the sounds of distant falling water.  It was warmer than we expected; the long sleeves quickly came off and we hiked in short sleeves, even though we were at 9,000 feet elevation in the darkness before dawn.  (It was warmer in the pre-dawn darkness at 9,000 feet than it would be in the middle of the afternoon at the top of Mt. Whitney, which is just over 14,500 feet).

A few weeks earlier, strong storms had sent a flash flood down the slopes of Mt. Whitney, washing away parts of the trail, and scattering the pieces of what one of my companions called the lincoln-log bridge.  The day before our hike, we saw notices at the ranger station warning that due to the recent storms, hikers on the Mt. Whitney trail should expect to get their feet wet.  However, when we came to it, the pieces of the bridge were back in place, and at no point did our feet get wet.

Slowly, the sun began to rise above the Owens Valley to the east.  We emerged from the forest above the treeline, but the high mountain peaks kept the sun from reaching us until we were quite a way up the mountain.  We passed Lone Pine Lake, Outpost Camp, and the trail became rockier and the plants fewer.  Eventually we arrived at Consultation Lake, which is over 11,000 feet in elevation.

Consultation Lake.  Definitely a place where you want sunblock. 

I was feeling really good, and thankful to be hiking the bare, rocky slopes before the sun's rays became too intense. Leaving Consultation Lake, we continued upward.  A small stream flowed down the canyon below the trail, emerging from a number of small snow fields.  The steps (and they really were steps, carved into the rock slope) became more difficult as the oxygen levels decreased even further.  I began to feel slightly lightheaded, but continued on to the small lake next to Trail Camp at 12,000 feet.

Here, I was thankful to sit and rest for a few minutes.  Breathing, I noticed, was becoming difficult.  Sitting for a few minutes did not stop the lightheadedness.  My body wasn't excessively tired from what I had done so far, but the altitude was getting to me.

From Trail Camp, the trail rises steeply through a series of switchbacks, the most grueling part of the hike.  The sun beats down on you here, and there are no trees to offer you relief.  Just rocks and snow.  At the top of the switchbacks, the trail skirts along a ridge for some distance before arriving at the peak itself.

I didn't make it to the ridge.  I started toward the switchbacks, but the lightheadedness remained.  I quickly realized that as I climbed higher and higher, it would only get worse.  It was clear to me that I would only be able to achieve one of my goals.  Since I had previously decided which of the goals was more important to me, the decision really wasn't that difficult.  For just a moment, I was sad that I would not be standing upon the summit of Mt. Whitney on this day, but I took comfort in knowing that I would achieve my #1 goal, and I immediately felt comfortable and happy with my decision.

Had I not set my priorities before beginning the hike, I probably would have continued on with those in my group who did eventually make it to the top.  I congratulate them on their achievement.  I know that if I had gone with them, I would not have enjoyed it, and would not have achieved what I set out to accomplish on this trip.

So I and one other in our group headed back down the mountain.  Instead of a 21 mile hike with 6,000 feet of elevation gain, ours was a 13 mile hike with 4,000 feet elevation gain.  Good enough for one day, I figure.  On the way down we looked at the flowers, took pictures, and even saw a deer.  We got back down to the trailhead picnic area in time to soak our feet in the stream and enjoy a soda while sitting on the store patio beneath towering pine and fir trees.

And we waited, for the rest of our group to return, which they did at 7:30.  Then we drove down to Lone Pine, ate pizza, went to a hotel, and slept.

The view from the Owens Valley, just outside of the town of Lone Pine, the day before our hike.  Mt. Whitney is in the center of this photo, shaded by the clouds.  Lone Pine Peak, to the left, appears taller, but that's because it's closer.

Night and Day on Mt. Whitney Trail

The hike on the Mt. Whitney Trail began in predawn darkness.  After about an hour of hiking, a glow in the east signaled the start of the new day.... In the afternoon, we returned back down the trail, and could see what we couldn't see before.

What's Your Goal?

Tomorrow I will be hiking Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in California, and the tallest mountain in the United States outside of Alaska.  It's almost 22 miles roundtrip, with 6,000 feet of elevation gain from the trailhead to the summit, which is at 14,500 feet.

As the date for this hike drew nearer, I became increasingly anxious.  This didn't make much sense, since I am an avid hiker.  Finally, a few weeks ago, I pondered the source of this anxiety, and realized that what I was most worried about was a hike that wasn't consistent with the reason I hike.

The reason I hike, I've described on this blog before.  Mostly, it's a form of spiritual renewal for me.  Walking, hiking and even running/jogging by themselves are great for my mental and spiritual state.  They help clear my mind and allow it to relax even as my muscles are getting a workout.  To be able to do so in a beautiful, wild place adds to the sense of spiritual renewal.  Hiking is thus enjoyable for me.

It's not about conquering a mountain peak.  It's not about conquering anything.  To be honest, I don't even really like the word conquer.  That's not why I hike.

A trip up Mount Whitney, I realized, is about conquering.  Or at least, it can very easily be about conquering, if the goal of reaching the mountain top is the #1 goal of the trip.

For me, the goal of reaching the top is not my #1 goal.  My #1 goal is spiritual renewal.  Spiritual renewal is why I hike.

Reaching the top is still a goal I have for tomorrow's hike, but it's not my first priority.  I know that I am physically capable of making it to the top (I've done it before), but if the level of exertion is such that I am not being spiritually renewed, then my #1 goal will not be met, even if I make it to the top.

Having realized that, I now feel that it will be OK if I decide not to go all the way.  That doesn't mean I'm not going to try, and I think there is a good chance that I will, but the internal pressure to make it to the top no matter what, and sacrifice the real reason I hike, is no longer there. 

And neither is the anxiety.

Since coming to that realization, I've noticed that this same anxiety is present throughout our culture.  So many people feel pressure to achieve certain goals in life.  People work hard, night and day, to achieve a certain standard of living, because other people or society at large have led them to believe that a certain standard of living is worthy of being your #1 goal in life. 

A better goal, however, is to have peace of mind.  A better goal is to be able to find happiness, and enjoy life, and to share that happiness with others.  If endlessly working to have a certain standard of living is keeping you from enjoying life and finding happiness, then perhaps it's time to consider which goals in life are really worth pursuing.

First Loop

It was the first looping roller coaster ever built.  And yesterday, it was almost Tristan's first ride on a looping roller coaster.  Almost. 

Definitions of God

I'm currently reading Speaking Christian, the latest book by Marcus Borg.  Today I read the chapter where he talks about "God," and specifically the various definitions and meanings of the word "God." 

Before reading further, ask yourself: What is my definition of "God?"

Borg and I agree that one reason a lot of people have a problem believing in God is because of the definitions that are commonly used to define God.  In his book, Borg cites these examples:

Oxford American: “Without an article: In Christianity and other monotheistic religions the creator and ruler of the universe and source of all moral authority; the supreme being.”


Random House Websters: “The creator and ruler of the universe; Supreme Being. One of several immortal powers, esp. one with male attributes, presiding over some portion of worldly affairs.”

American Heritage: “A perfect being conceived as the creator of the universe, and worshiped in monotheistic religions; the force, effect, or a manifestation or aspect of this being; a being of supernatural powers or attributes, believed in and worshiped by a people, esp. a male deity.”

In sermons, I've shared my own definition of God, which is a little different.  I've said that God is the "lifeforce or life-energy which binds all of creation."  I've quoted (as Borg does) Acts 17:28, which says that God is "the one in whom we live and move and have our being.”  These definitions define God as being more "in here" rather than "out there."  The "out there" definitions seem more common in society today, and yet I think they also present a God who people find hard to believe in.

What definitions of God are problematic for you?  What definitions do you prefer?

Signing the Register



A group of boy scouts sign theirt name in the register at the top of Mt. Baden-Powell.  Tristan, at left, was the youngest scout on the trip, and although he was tempted to give up on the 4-mile, 3,000' climb, he was happy to be on top.



"Da Plane! Da Plane!"

A week of General Assembly in Nashville, followed by a week of Vacation Bible School (which was in addition to my usual workload) followed by a week of caring for my wife following her surgery (in addition to my usual workload).  In case you're wondering why my blogging has been a little lacking lately, that's why.

Sunday, my wife conspired with some leaders in the church to force me to take a day off, which I did yesterday.  I grabbed my bike, a map, and hopped on the metro rail to the L.A. County Arboretum, where I met my sister (who just happened to also be taking a day off), her 9 month-old daughter, and my father. 

The L.A. County Arboretum, incidentally, is where they film(ed) many TV shows & movies, including
"Fantasy Island."