Manventure: The Motion Picture

November, 2007

Shenandoah National Park, VA ~ the Appalachian Trail

Humpback Rocks

Music: "The Last of the Mohicans," original motion picture score by Trevor Jones and Randy Edelman

Behold the Grandeur of the World

God's Grandeur

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;					5
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;					10
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

~ Gerard Manley Hopkins

Behold the Mighty Mountains!



And the Vast Oceans!



We live in a world that was purposefully created by a God with power beyond our comprehension. He did it for His own glory and for our deep enjoyment. He formed the mountains and filled the oceans. He angers the volcanoes, gives speed to the wind, and unleashes the floodgates of Heaven to water the earth. The boundless mysteries of the world are a powerful reflection of His majesty and character. This planet is full of wonders. Every day we must try to find the glory in Creation. While we may not live among the mightiest mountains or the widest oceans, Creation surrounds us, and God is in it.

"For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse."

~ Romans 1:20

Prelude to Adventure

"For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods. In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him."
~ Psalm 95:3-4

God must delight in surprises, because He sure is full of them. While I'm sure it pains Him to watch His children suffer when their plans fall apart under the weight of His superior plans, I'm sure He also finds great joy in knowing what is best for His children and acting upon it. While His purposes are rarely clear in the beginning and while we may suffer - torn, at times, from our hopes and dreams - His will is ultimately better, and because He loves us, we are left better off in the long run.

These are the thoughts I often turn to when I reminisce on the adventure that transformed my life. In December of 2005, I was a junior in college and still bent on my high school dream of writing a novel. Long ago, I had worked everything out in my mind. I would write a story of unparalleled inspiration, tearing through traditional expectations, and, upon graduation, I would already be a best-selling author. I felt it was my purpose. My primary aim in life seemed the fulfillment of this dream. But it was getting harder to accomplish as I became distracted and confused. To make matters worse, I was losing interest. As I desperately clung to my teenage aspirations, like a sailor to the mast of his sinking ship, I became frustrated...then angry. Why had God led me down this path only for it to end in failure? I felt defeated and lost. I had spent so much time and energy... and for what? What was I supposed to do now? By the end of 2005, I was distant from God, unsure of His faithfulness and unsure of my relationship with Him. Little did I know, He was never far.

One day, I got a phone call from an old friend. "I think it would be really cool to get the old crew back together for a camping trip on New Years," said my friend, Rich. "We'll hike to McAfee's Knob and spend the night. It'll be like old times." The idea of spending some quality time with my old friends, The Nightwalkers, interested me more than the idea of backpacking, but it was more than enough for me to commit. I had not camped, let alone backpacked, in a long time. I didn't know if I'd be up to the challenge, but Rich assured me it wouldn't be a difficult hike, and everyone would be out of practice. And although the hike was a little tough - since I was way out of shape - it ended up being totally worth it. We reached the Appalachian Trail shelter ahead of schedule and made camp, our Scout skills resurfacing as if we had never lost them.

It felt good to be doing something. To set up a tent, pick up firewood, light a stove, get dirt on my hands. The air was crisp and clean with a little bite as I breathed through my nostrils. Leaves crunched beneath my feet, and the chilly mountain breeze gently stung my skin. I felt inspired... alive! This experience - the outdoor experience - was new to me all over again. That night we made a scorching fire and crowded together, cupping bowls of steaming brunswick stew. It was good to reconnect, to talk and laugh in the still and quiet of the night. I remember a satisfaction I had not felt in a long time.

The next day, we shouldered our day packs and began the climb to McAfee's Knob, Roanoke, VA's most photographed landmark and Appalachian Trail hot spot. Again, I struggled but succeeded. We reached the Knob, and I stood, amazed. Only once in my life could I remember a view such as this. While staring across the wintry, Virginia valley, I realized how much I had taken for granted, and the ache of my heart told me what was missing. In this moment, I found myself caring more about the present reality than any fictitious moment I could create. The granite cliffs were real. The drifting clouds were real. Me, standing on the mountaintop... real.

And in retrospect I attribute this experience to God, the Creator of those mountains. The Annual Nightwalker Trip (which it would ultimately become) at McAfee's Knob laid a seed. In little time, I became enthralled with the natural world. I could feel its power and testimony. It both amazed and perplexed me. I felt drawn to it, and so began my great love for outdoor adventure. But more importantly, it was through the outdoors that God spoke to me. For so long I had been making plans, uninterested in His own. Then, when things fell apart, I fell away. Now, I look back on my first, true, outdoor experience, and I can see God pursuing me. I can see God's hand in the mountains, how He conceived and shaped them. Being as stubborn as any man, I needed a strong example of God's strength and faithfulness, and He delivered with His Creation... Of all things.

My life has changed in many ways since 2005. God has fostered in me a great love for the outdoors. I care very deeply about peoples' interaction with nature, especially America's children, and I want to share my appreciation for God's splendor, depicted perfectly through Creation. And I still write, only now with a different purpose.

"Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth."
~ Hosea 6:3

Thanking God at Spy Rock

September, 2007


The summer after college graduation, I moved back to Richmond to get my bearings, look for a job, and heal from the hiking injury I'd suffered the previous winter at Spy Rock in Nelson County, VA. In retrospect, it was a fairly typical hiking injury. Essentially, runner's knee, only a really aggravated case. I had been doing everything wrong. I wasn't wearing supportive footwear (ie. sturdy-soled boots or even stiff trail runners); I wasn't using trekking poles; and I was carrying 40+ pounds in an external frame too big for my torso! I was making every big mistake in the book. Unfortunately, some of these basic (yet essential) tasks get left out in Boy Scouts... Or, knowing the attentiveness of a teenager, they went in one ear and out the other. Either way, I was in bad shape 4 years down the road.

I hadn't been hiking since my injury. At times, it still hurt to walk, and if I bent my knees beyond a 90 degree angle, I could feel the cartilage grinding against my patellas. Not enjoyable. I feared I would never hike or run again. Looking back, I certainly overreacted. But I didn't know what was going on with my joints; I wasn't educated to understand these things. I prayed and prayed to God, begging him to heal me, so I could explore the mountains again. I didn't understand how He could give me such an amazing gift, only to take it away.

I went through 2 months of physical therapy, where I learned the extent of my injury and found hope in hard work and the basic knowledge that, sooner or later, I would hike again. Especially because I wanted to so badly.

In September of that year, I went on two solo hikes. The first was a day hike to Cold Mountain, VA, a beautiful bald along the Appalachian Trail (featured at left). It was my first hike alone and my first hike since my accident. I experienced only a little pain and began to understand that all hikers will eventually become friendly with knee pain, in some shape or form, whether they like it or not. It simply comes with the territory. After Cold Mountain, I was back, and I was excited.

For my next trip, I decided to return to Spy Rock. For some reason, it seemed fitting to return there, and I had been unable to enjoy the vista, since I'd been in such pain. I wanted to return and see it through clear eyes this time. It would also mark my first (and only, thus far) solo over-nighter. I remember being slightly apprehensive, wondering if I would run into any 'weirdos' or freak myself out at night. It turned out the Appalachian Trail was a highway of hikers that weekend, and I was hardly alone. I ended up sharing a campsite with a really nice fellow close to my own age and his Labrador Retriever, Lucy. Sadly, the guy's name, 2 years later, escapes me. Go figure. Still, we shared a campfire that night and talked about the outdoors and God. Turns out, he (and probably his dog; she was really cool, although she helped herself to my dinner) was a Christian.

Over the course of my weekend away, it occurred to me that God might have briefly taken my ability to hike so that when it was restored - through hard work, determination, and reliance on Him - my appreciation for the mountains and His creation would be that much stronger. And as always, God would be ever more glorified.

So now, I look back on that difficult time, and I thank God for guiding me through it. I thank Him for showing me His faithfulness in a unique way, so that I could understand and really believe He is good and means best for me. And I thank Him for making His Creation new to me all over again.

Like a good father, God always finds a way to care for His children.

The Linville Gorge: North Carolina's Wilderness Frontier

March, 2009 ~ North Carolina

Kenny and I are in the Linville Gorge Wilderness, lumbering up the Little Table Rock Trail, and let me tell you: it's a doozy.

We have come to this pristine wilderness for an overnight backpacking venture across exposed ridges, rocky slopes, and precarious outcroppings; it is among North Carolina's greatest frontiers. Our journey begins near the base of Hawksbill Mountain. We heft our backpacks and embark down the Spence Ridge Trail. The Linville Gorge Wilderness, west of Morganton, NC, is host to numerous trails, offering plenty of opportunities for day hikes and multi-day backpacking endeavors. But, being a wilderness area, the trails are unmarked, so a map and a plan of attack are essential. Kenny and I take a left onto the Little Table Rock Trail. It is early on, and we feel fresh. We have no idea how steep it will soon become.

A mile later, we stagger onto the first rock outcropping, where we are presented with an impressive view of the gorge. The Linville River snakes through the basin below and is surrounded by steep, rock walls. We have an obscured vantage on Table Rock Mountain, our destination. After a bite to eat, we carry on and quickly intersect the Mountains to Sea Trail, which takes us to the Table Rock spur.

The steepness increases. We push on, feeling the burn in our hamstring and calf muscles. It seems the higher we climb, the heavier our packs weigh. Gravity tries its hardest to pull us down. But, at the same time, the mountain emboldens us. It beckons to be explored. It lures us with its solid presence. This mountain is powerful.

As we reach the top of Table Rock Mountain and see the magnificent Linville Gorge in its entirety, our exhaustion and frustration vanish. This view was worth it. In the distance, we see Lake James, where they filmed some pivotal scenes for the film, "The Last of the Mohicans." On a sunny day, it would surely shimmer, but today the skies are overcast. The anticipation of rain has hung over us since we began our trek, but it looks as if the hazy clouds on the horizon are going to miss us. We are deeply thankful.

We explore the summit of Table Rock, recognize another spot from Michael Mann's frontier epic, and shoulder our packs for the return journey. What we just came up, we must now go down. While going downhill is easier on one's respiratory system, it is far more strenuous on one's knee joints. As we descend the mountain, I feel a burning sensation in my knees, a nuisance I have had to deal with since my hiking injury in '07.

Eventually, we reconnect with the Spence Ridge Trail and turn left towards the Linville River. A mile later, we arrive at the bottom of the gorge. The water is deep, and class III rapids rage up river; water gushes over rocks, and strong currents sweep underneath the two wooden bridges that cross the river. They are narrow and single-railed, so Kenny and I maneuver over them carefully.

As we enjoy the lively sounds of the water, we are greeted by several college students, whom we first encountered on Table Rock. The leader of their pack carries an empty liquor bottle, and - words slightly slurred - tries his darndest to convince us to sleep in "that sweet cave over there!" He points downriver, and we kind of nod, giving them something to get excited about, and they go on their merry way. Kenny and I quickly decide against sleeping in the "death cave," as neither of us are keen on being eaten by a bear or drowned in a flash flood.

Later, we hike a quarter mile back up the trail, till we find a suitable campsite by a babbling brook. There, we take a load off and reflect on our exciting day. Kenny soaks his feet in the cold stream, and I snap some shots of the water cascading over mossy stones. Building a fire proves challenging, since most of the wood is damp, but we manage, somehow, to get a fine flame going, and we pass the evening in its warm glow.

We wake up the next morning at 5 am; Kenny has an engagement to attend in Greensboro at 10 o'clock. So we hike the last mile of our journey in the dark, led by the LED beam of my headlight. For Kenny, this is a trip of firsts - his first backpacking adventure, his first taste of "backpacking food," which is always delicious when you're starving, and his first hike in the dark. By its indiglo light, my watch reads 7 am when we reach the car. As we load our packs and prepare for the return voyage, we thank God for his grace upon us. We are tired, but energized. Dry and joyful. We have been to and from the mountains, and we will surely return, because we were made for the wild. But for now, it is time to go home.