REAL MAN TRUCKWORKS & SURVIVAL
GENERAL TOPICS => Faith Discussion => Topic started by: Higher Caliber on September 25, 2021, 12:14:21 PM
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I took this photo along the Italianos Canyon trail outside of Taos, NM in the Carson Wilderness. This Aspen grove along a well traveled route is only a couple miles in and the general turn around place for most hikers. I wasn’t out hiking though. This was my last stop before I headed home and I had yet to find what I set out looking for. I continued up the trail and further into the wilderness where there was no trail, only a trickling stream up the middle of a canyon to keep my bearings. I traveled light, extra socks, Med kit, camelback, one MRE, bear spray and my Glock 19.
My intent was to find the source of the stream. I didn’t make that decision until I was too far to turn back. It sounds corny, but my name, Blaine, in old English is “the source of the River”. So I made that my mission. It was about 40 degrees, I was not dressed for the occasion, at all. I had one pair of dry socks left for the trek back to the car and I finally found where the water stopped trickling. About that time the weather changed drastically and snow began to fall in huge balls the size of my fist that stung my face when they hit me and melted almost immediately as they hit the ground.
My situation was not dire by any means, I don’t want it to sound like that, but it was pretty bad and momentarily I was scared. I hadn’t been scared of anything in a long time. That was my moment. At the source of the River. My middle name is Nathan. Translated as “He gave” (as in the big HE)
At the source of the River, He gave… Gave me my humanity back. It’s a weird feeling going through life as long as I have without -true- fear. How could it be that my gift from God was not comfort at all… it was fear? Crazy right?
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“Invictus”, (Latin for invincible) A poem by William Ernest Henley written in 1875. Henley at the age of 16, had one of his legs amputated subsequent to an infection arising from tuberculosis. At the time this poem was written, he was undergoing experimental treatment to save his other leg. It has been referenced historically in speeches by many to include Winston Churchill, Nelson Mandela and Barack Obama. US POW in Vietnam, James Stockdale carried the last stanza, written with rat feces on toilet paper, with him while he was captive. In turn, this poem carries a lot of weight with me. I first analyzed it in a literature class in college and I have kept a copy close at hand ever since.
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God talks to us in the language we understand best...
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Great post, HC. Thanks for sharing!