Adventurous Beauty

Adventure awaits...

The Swinging Bridge, Blue Bend, W.Va.
The beginning of our exciting enterprise.

Don't you just love that? It makes me want to lace up my boots, grab my North Face, and hit the trail! I've always been an outdoor type of lady. I was raised with boys. So no, we didn't play dress up or have weddings for our Barbies or pretend that the prince was coming to save us.  Nope,  we had shoes strapped to our feet and a jacket zipped up to our necks while we explored the forest-dense swamp beyond my house until we couldn't see the sun. 

Exploring the Riverbed

The swamp was a magical land, full of mystical creatures (frogs and salamanders), rugged moss-covered tee-pees (which we built with our elementary hands), terrifying damp bridges that crossed rock-bottomed rivers of death (the 5-foot wide creek and fallen down trees), and plots of not-so-original stranded peasants triumphing the worst to reach the jungle flowing with beautiful, lime green ferns and animals.  We transformed from incapable scruffy children into majestic jungle warriors.  Bravery and beauty always persevered.   And there was always a happy ending, as long as a mom didn't interrupt by announcing dinner or a trip to town.

I miss this stage of life.  It was so simple, so uncomplicated, so wonderfully naive.  There was no conception of the world and its darkness.  Even personal issues within the family or relationships or tasks were completely oblivious from my view. 

But there is something I've held on to: a fascination with God's creation.  

The Rhododendron Trail 

God graced me with nostalgia, one of my favorites.  Deep thinking has become a hobby I have come to thoroughly enjoy.  Maybe it's because I am an introvert, but I, nonetheless, absolutely love the remembrance of what was, cherished moments in time that have made me who I am, and the critically analyzed goodness that came from what seemed like end-of-the-world situations.  It can be a curse if it is not handled with lightness.  Some choose to cleave to this realm rather than cultivate the present.  I have learned how to find a balance between the two of these rather enjoyable parts of life.  Which is why I can be thankful for the ability.

With all this being said, I am a beauty and adventure seeker.  You will notice that I didn't use the phrase "adrenaline seeker".  No, I will leave that to those who don't have a slight fear of heights and seek after the fast-paced high of the moment.  That's not me.  Exploring is more of my type of thing.  Which is why I have found  a love for hiking.  Sure, trails were made by people to be traveled by people.  So I'm not Columbus of the trail discovering the view which no other man has ever seen.  But I don't do it to be prideful, nor do I do it to compete (I have not one competitive bone in my body).  I hike and explore for me, for my eyes, for the  gratefulness that comes in the last seconds before the sun disappears beneath the snow-capped mountain top.  These moments when I am in such awe, I can hear my own heartbeat.  Because I am the only one within miles of this moment.  And I know, with every inch of my being, that God has saved it for me.  That He planned for my eyes to be halted above this desolate foot of the trail.  So He could prove to me, once again, just how impeccably impossible He is to understand.  And how that makes Him all the more praiseworthy and magnificent.

“What draws people 

to be friends 

is that they see 

the same truth. 

They share it.”

-C. S. Lewis

I recently went on a hike with a friend who's soul shares the same truth as mine.

Blue Bend - Hence the Name

My soul was in desperate need for something unknown.  So we decided to hike a trail connected to a famous swimmin' hole here in Greenbrier County: Blue Bend.  We left my house at noon and returned around 6, right before the sun completely faded away.  The hike was one of those eerie kind of beautifuls, full of  whimsy footpaths and weather-bent trees.  Much of the forest was still corrupted from the storm that ripped into West Virginia this past summer.  We could tell their hadn't been many people on the trail.  I guess it was January.  But there were a few invading footprints at certain points along the snow-speckled path.  Most likely, they were from hunters (I took a bright blue backpack just to be sure). 

Blue Marks the Spot - Keep Going

"An eerie kind of beautiful."

There were moments when I just knew one of us were going to lose our balance and slip down the steep, tree-flecked hill that would most assuredly be our death.  Okay, maybe that's dramatic, but there is no doubt in my mind we would have broken something, even if it was our pride.  It was scary at certain points.  The temperature was fifty that day, so there was no need to wear boots.  I was very wrong.  By the end, my feet were soaked, numb, and I believe I had strained muscles I didn't even know existed.  

Overlooking gorgeous West Virginia land

Right when we had reached our limits, physically and mentally, we saw it.  The long-awaited lookout.  We could see for miles.  The mountains were still covered with snow and we could faintly see black dots in the fields, which I assumed were cattle.  The colors were so vibrant.  We stood in deep respect and honor to be blessed with this view,  and I knew at that moment that the trek had been totally worth 
it. 

"We stood in deep respect."

I store those moments in my mind, and on my phone, as a remembrance of the beautiful place God has given us to live.  But even more surreal is that the eerie kind of beautiful that haunted the hike is the same kind of beauty that Christ himself holds.  He is merciful, but He is also just.  He is protecting, but He also lets us choose how we want to live.  He is all-knowing - a creepy and incomprehensible yet comforting thought all in itself.  But beyond all the theology and edification of scripture, we will and always will be drawn to Him. His beauty and entailing adventure He has called us on.

When we reached the bottom, we had hiked over six or seven miles (we might have gotten lost once, and it may or may not have been my fault). The physical trials my body endured will be forgotten, as well as the minutes that kept my mind and soul in a state of danger and fascination. But the snapshots I stored in my memory will continue to remain there, as well as the prodding twinge for captivating adventures.





Trekking the Wild,

Elizabeth