Called on a trek to climb San Juan Hill

One benefit of being married to my too kind and loving wife is that she is a “Hole-in-the-Rocker”. Her great grandfather Benjamin Perkins helped blast a passageway known as Hole-in-the-Rock.
I would like to see them get a permit from the BLM for that now. I am guessing there would be some paperwork.
The benefit I refer to is that we often have to visit remote places (no Maverik readily available) and reenact perilous journeys so that we gain an appreciation of what her forefathers endured.
I prefer to reenact my forefathers’ experience and take a siesta under a tree with a Pepsi and swipe at a piñata full of Almond M&Ms.
But after reading some old guy’s journal, she decided we needed to have a faith promoting experience and quickly called us all to our mission, which was to climb Comb Ridge near Bluff at a place commonly called San Juan Hill.
I would like to point out that it would be much easier with an ATV and a cooler full of food and beverages.
She thought I should haul all our earthly possessions with us, including our piano, but settled for a backpack full of rocks. We agreed to disagree.
The trek these forefathers were called on seemed impossible. But they had faith in their calling and their leaders and so they left the comfort of their homes, farms and businesses to strike out into the untamed wilderness.
I admit, I didn’t have much faith in my leader’s inspiration or calling. I might call her unbalanced, not to her face mind you, but someone really has to hide these books from her.
If I was going to leave the comfort of my home to walk around aimlessly in the back country and not complain, she would have to strap a gun on my back and make me wear fluorescent orange.
My too kind and loving wife pointed out we wouldn’t be able to feel their pain and have a life changing experience in our motorized air-conditioned vehicle.
So, we are off on our adventure. As you make your way up this hill you can almost feel the harrowing experience of the pioneers as they tried to get their wagons pulled by a team of horses up this steep treacherous passageway.
This all started in 1879 when a group of 237 pioneers were called to settle southeast Utah.
A journey that was supposed to take six weeks took nearly six months. Which is pretty much how all my home projects turns out.
The heroics and determination of these people are well documented, particularly the building of the “Hole-in-the-Rock”.
This severe test of human determination along a perilous journey fraught with hazards and dangers was only possible with their faith and God’s help.
I could so relate to these brave pioneers that endured sickness, suffering for lack of food and frigid freezing weather, being lost out on Cedar Mesa, and being pushed to the limit of physical endurance.
It had been hours since I last ate Almond M&Ms and experienced the bliss of crushed ice, so I was pretty sure the buzzards circling above me were just waiting for me to die, which I was praying would happen soon.
After what seemed like forever, 30 minutes later we made it to the top. I don’t know if it was the fatigue, lack of oxygen or if I was having an out of body experience, but I was struck with a faith promoting epiphany.
After all these pioneers had given up, everything they endured, all the adversity they experienced, they still had gratitude in their hearts.
As I lay on my back on the hard rock looking at the blue skies with buzzards circling high above, I saw etched in the rock, “We thank thee, O God.”
All I could say was “Amen!” …pause for dramatic effect…. “Do you think Life Flight can pick me up?”
I hate to admit it when my too kind and loving wife is right, but honestly, we have so much to be grateful for.
Maybe this November, we can do the same; NOT etch anything on our red rocks.
But express our gratitude by counting our many blessings, naming them one by one, and then write a gratitude letter and send it to someone.
You know what they say, “be the change you want to see.”