Soaked and shivering, I ducked into the dense forest across the steep slope of the ridge crest. The great old-growth trees partly sheltered me from the pelting wind-driven rain. Then I saw it—a silver diamond fastened about six feet up one of the stalwart trunks of a great fir tree. The faint trail was visible just below it. Approaching it, I looked beyond and glimpsed another silver diamond on another stout trunk approximately 100 feet away. Trail markers!
I swung down the barely visible track, glancing up repeatedly to locate the next markers and verify I was on the track. I was overjoyed to find these first signs of security in over a mile of this unmaintained trail, traversing just below the very steep ridge, west of Bald Mountain. The footpath was obscured by myriads of brown fallen fir needles that were now slick from the downpour trickling through the overhead branches. I almost fell as I stepped over the slippery branches of fallen trees. Still, the silver diamonds shone brightly as they reflected the dim light in the dark forest on the mountainside and showed me the way.
Suddenly, I saw two diamonds back-to-back on a tree, and the track before me vanished. I looked down in the opposite direction to see the trail switched back that way. The color of the diamonds changed to yellow. As I followed the signs, the trail switch-backed steeply down and south toward Spada Lake, more than a thousand feet below and on the wrong side of the ridge. That was not the way I wanted to go! Had I missed the trail west to Ashland Lakes up on the ridge crest? My joy disappeared in my doubt. I listened to my mind and started back up the switchbacks to retrace my steps, trying to find another trail that went west.
Breathing hard with my heart pounding and my quads quivering, I reached the ridge and peered over the other side. Treetops pierced through the dense cloud in the valley below the cliff edge. There was no path over that precipice! I went back down further and checked my diagram map from the book describing the route. Though I saw a small squiggle in the trail heading south, it basically went west. Descending further on the faint track, the yellow diamonds now seemed to lead me astray. The trail switch-backed further down south, the wrong way! Hesitant and hypothermic, I bounded back up the switchbacks again to try find the trail I thought had to be up there going west. How had I gotten here anyway?
The day before, my wife, Mille’, son Luke, and I had started out that warm and sunny morning on the Walt Bailey trail off the Mountain Loop highway about 20 miles from Granite Falls, Washington. We ascended through old-growth trees, meadows, wildflower-studded slopes, and up into an alpine upland with spectacular views of the grand Cascades on all sides. We’d eaten lunch on a knoll surrounded by blue huckleberries and picturesque peaks in distant panoramas.
During the pleasant afternoon, I set up my tent and said goodbye to my family as they headed home. My wife planned to pick me up at the Ashland Lakes trailhead 11 miles west the next day. I ascended the ridge with great views of Puget Sound, Mt. Rainier, and the Olympics, returning to my campsite at dusk.
I woke after 5 AM and looked out my open tent fly to see dense fog. I was in a cloud. While in my sleeping bag, I read Romans 5:17: “For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.” I would need God’s abundant provision of grace that day.
I was just finishing packing as the first drizzle began at about 8 AM. I climbed up to the ridge in a now drenching rain that dowsed my legs many times as I brushed past blushes on the overgrown trail. Truly by God’s grace, just in time before the rocks were significantly wet and slippery, I scrambled up, reached the top of the 4,851- foot-high Bald Mountain, and was down off the craggy top in ten minutes.
I traversed the steep, bushy slope on a narrow, overgrown track in a cloud. The track paralleled the ridge crest on the opposite side of the mountain from where I needed to end up for me to meet my wife. Finally, I entered the forest, where I saw the trail markers on the trees.
As I anxiously ran back up, at least I got some warmth into my soaked legs, which I sorely taxed as I was carrying a 30+ lbs. pack. I again peered over the ridge-crest cliff into cloud and abyss. Drenched and desperate, I cried out to God to show me which way to go. I doffed my pack and took out my New Testament. The first words that struck me were 1 Corinthians 14:40: “But everything should be done in a fitting and orderly way.” Too cold and anxious to initially understand and believe, I continued my retreat up the faint track. But after returning all the way to the end of the forest, I found no alternate route.
Then, the words I had read spoke to my spirit. God was telling me the trail markers were showing me the right way. I had to follow them, regardless of where they seemed to be heading. Being sure now that I was on the right—and only—trail, I turned around and went back down the trail into the deep forest.
Now, the joy of the Lord truly was my strength. Even if the trail took me all the way down the wrong side of the mountain, God would have a way home for me. So, sighting the signs, I again swung down the steep and slippery switchbacks in about ten minutes, passing the farthest point I’d previously reached.
It was not more than another ten minutes or so of descent to the south, that the yellow diamonds then straightened out and signed due west—the direction I wanted to go! At this point, my joy knew no bounds. In another half-mile or so, the signs led me to the base of a massive granite cliff ascending abruptly to my right. Now I understood why the track had backed down so far earlier—it had to get below this great buttress of the Bald Mountain ridge.
The yellow signs then departed from the base of the buttress, and I entered a less steep forest with no visible track at all. The trail markers were sometimes hundreds of feet apart and the next not visible from the previous one. I retraced my steps to the last marker several times to try a different route in search of the next. Regardless, I was sure I was going the right way. Faith had replaced fear.
Each sighting of another yellow sign ahead renewed my joy. Within another mile or so, I came to a rockslide that had cairns marking the track’s entrance and exit on it! From this point on west, there were some signs of trail maintenance–occasional cairns at rock crossings, fallen logs cut from across the track, and brush cut back. The signs were no longer seen–nor needed. The peace of the Lord was so evident in the stillness of this great forest He created.
The rain slacked off and blue sky was visible to the west. Soon, the rain stopped altogether, and so did I at about 1 PM. I sat down against a tree and doffed my pack. I got out my lunch and ate with gratitude to God for His grace to me that day. The sun was trying to break through the clouds and intermittently warmed me. After I donned my pack and continued my trek west, the path soon led me north over the now shallow ridge crest. In an hour or two, I reached Upper Ashland Lake. I started down the trail to the mountain road, where my wife picked me up in our car.
I recalled my mother’s nightly quoting of Proverbs 3:5-6 when I was a kid: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths.” All I needed to do to walk with Him was to follow His signs.
Tom Giesecke (Sonrise Magazine Editor) Author. Grew up in Olympia, WA, where he received Christ at age 15. He graduated from Davidson College, NC, and Emory University School of Medicine, Atlanta, GA. After his medical internship at the National Naval Medical Center Bethesda, MD, he trained and served as a U.S. Navy Flight Surgeon for four years. Following residency training, he served thousands of people as a Board-certified Family Physician for more than thirty-five years. Learning of God’s love motivates Tom to daily search the Scriptures for more. Tom has led Bible studies for many years and enjoys sharing “the word of God, and recently publishing a book (find in the Sonrise Bookstore and Amazon) on the grace of God: Gracious Goodness.” Reach Tom at tomgiesecke@comcast.net
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