good challenge, day 9

DAY 9: Document Inspiration

My friend Anna has always maintained that she can feel the presence of the Lord in the mountains.  I completely agree.  Now here in Freetown, these mountains are called "hills" and compared to the Rockies, or even the Appalachians, yes, they are hills.  But when you are hiking in them as we were on Friday, they are definitely mountains.  

The Psalmist writes:

• "Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your justice like the ocean depths.  You care for people and animals alike, O Lord." -Psalm 36:6
• "You formed the mountains by your power and armed yourself with mighty strength." -Psalm 65:6
• "He holds in his hands the depths of the earth and the mightiest mountains." -Psalm 95:4

Now to juxtapose those thoughts on inspiration, I will share about my hiking experience on Friday.  As the last ship holiday before the sail, five of us decided to go on an afternoon hike on Friday.  At 2 o'clock, Miriam, Melissa, Sandra, Sylvanus, and I set out for Sugarloaf Mountain.  We arrived an hour later, parked our Land Rover, and set off down a narrow trail, following a water pipe along the side of a steep "hill."  

You can see the pipeline behind Miriam as she embraces a stalk of tall grass.  At a blue mark on the pipe, we turned right and headed on another narrow, overgrown path uphill into the jungle.  A bit further along, the we came to a fork where we were met by a shoeless, shirtless, old man carrying a machete.  His name was Lansana and he said he was mining coal.  He pointed us down one of the two paths, and we followed as he lead us from behind.  Later on we would regret following this crazytowner's direction.  As we went deeper and deeper, the path became more and more uphill to the point that we were bouldering our way higher and higher.  We soon realized that Lansana wasn't with us any more but we decided to continue upwards.  At one point, there was a clearing with no trees, but rather the ground become all rock covered with thick, tall grass.  As we hiked practically vertical, we stopped for a water break, to admire the view, and to call for chimps.  We did get a response!  (Although maybe it was a bird?  We'll never know).  If you're reading this, Taylor, Wes, Harvey, Buda, and Marissa, this mountain made Devil's Marble Yard look like a sandbox.

Sylvanus and Sandra.

Past the clearing, we realized that the path we were once on was long gone.  We decided to continue upwards hoping to reach the summit and find the path that was supposed to exist somewhere up there.  More and more hiking, climbing, shuffling, etc., ensued.  Eventually, at around 5:15pm and many false summits later, we decided that we reached high enough and that we should turn around in hopes of making it back to the care before dark.  At this point, we knew that the "trail" was long gone and that we'd be bushwhacking ourselves back down the mountain.  We passed back through the steep clearing and back into the dense jungle.  Every step brought a new challenge: low hanging vines, dead and crumbling logs, loose rocks, inch-long thorns, etc.  Meanwhile, high above us, the sun was setting...and fast.  The further we descended down the mountain, the more the dense vegetation choked out the sunlight.  We were lost.  One hundred percent, "Man Vs. Wild" lost in the jungle.  Drenched in sweat, there was both a spoken and an unspoken worry over our group.  We decided that our best option was to keep walking as long as we could see.  As the light faded, the vines became more frequent, tripping and catching us as we stumbled.  We stopped only to drink water and to pray.  Our prayer was short but intense.  We needed direction and we needed it now.  It was then that I realized we might not actually be leaving the jungle tonight.  With no cell phone reception, it wouldn't be until curfew that night that the ship would realize we were missing and even then, how would they find us A) in a deep jungle and B) with the limited resources that Sierra Leone has to offer.  On outside, I followed the group through the nothingness, but on the inside, I was filled with despair and hopelessness.  We were so lost. 

After many tumbles and branches to the face, Miriam came across what appeared to be a rocky creek bed. We decided to follow it, thinking that if it was in fact a creek bed, it would probably lead us to something at least somewhat helpful.  Following the rocky path ahead of us, we miraculously stumbled upon the trail!  I cannot tell you the last time I felt so overjoyed!  Just as the sun was slipping behind the mountainous horizon, we had made it back to the trail!  Making a beeline for the car, we managed to get in the vehicle just as the last bits of daylight retired for the night, around 7pm  Covered in sweat, dirt, bits of leaves, scrapes, scratches, blood, and relief, we drove straight to a local supermarket and indulged in cold water and ice cream bars.  We had been delivered from a truly desperate situation.  After a two hour drive, we finally made it back to the ship.

Filthy, tired, and most of all thankful to be back at the ship, we quickly scarfed down some chicken and rice, showered, and went to bed, contemplating how the mountains could be as equally inspiring as despair-inducing.