Go West Old Men: A Travel Memoir. Part 7

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2. I grew up below this mountain. My first mountain hike was along the Appalachian Trail to the top. My cousin and I went on a rainy Sunday afternoon and pretty much slid back down. When I was young, I didn’t understand what this mountain meant. Now that I’m less young, I understand that the mountain speaks to me of home, of heritage, of faith. The mountain is a part of me.

This is Part 5 of the story, follow these links to see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Getting There

Throughout the planning process we spent hours pouring over maps and routes and essential stops along the way.

While I did purchase a new (to me) Jeep in January, we quickly realized Scott’s Grand Cherokee was larger and more equipped for any essential off-roading. Up until that point I had not been aware of potential off-roading adventures.

We contacted a good friend from Asbury and asked if we could park my Jeep at her house in Lexington. We agreed to meet on Saturday afternoon, August 19th and begin our journey from there.

I left on Friday, August 18 and made a quick trip to my hometown to visit my Mother, and make a quick trip to my Father’s gravesite. I know he’s not there, but sometimes I just need to stop to let him know what is going on.

I grew up at the foot of the mountain called Angel’s Rest. It was not until I moved away that I gained a real appreciation for the beauty that surrounded me.

You can never really go home again, but you can go to your Mom’s and have her cook you breakfast. Of course she did.

I left Saturday morning and headed toward Kentucky and our friend Carolyn’s house.

Carolyn took some comical pictures of the two of us trying to combine all of our stuff for the trip into one vehicle. She shared a concern with my wife that she didn’t see any toilet paper. Trust me, we were covered. So to speak. We made it, and then we spent the next fifteen days unpacking and repacking.

I don’t know that I felt that our trip would have begun properly if we did not visit the Asbury campus. It was a beautiful, warm summer afternoon. Students were milling around campus getting ready for classes to begin.

Our first stop was Hughes Auditorium. Hughes is a place of significance. Three times a week (when we were

In February of this year, this was the place of an outpouring of the Holy Spirit that lasted for 16 days and drew more than 50,000 worshippers to the small city of Wilmore. The after effects are still being felt around the world.

there), the entire student body would gather for chapel services. Over the decades Hughes had been a place for many spiritual revivals, including the outpouring of the Holy Spirit that occurred in February of 2023.

We toured the new STEM building a sparkling new centerpiece for the campus, and the renovated student center. In both many of the rooms and areas were named for beloved professors and classmates.

Touring the campus was a fitting beginning for our trip. We had dinner at local favorite restaurant, said our goodbyes to Carolyn, and headed west.

Go West Old Men: A Travel Memoir. Part 6

Planning: Oh, There Was a Spreadsheet

This is Part 5 of the story, follow these links to see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Over the years Scott and I would see each other at class reunions at Asbury University in Kentucky. Later we were both members of the Alumni Board and served a couple of years together.

We would also work to find other times to hang out. We met at Promise Keepers event in Pittsburg followed by some camping and hiking. We spent a weekend at Assateague State Park in Maryland, along with the ponies, the deer, and the sand flies. And we spent a day walking around Annapolis, Maryland.

Occasionally we’d talk about the Grand Canyon, but we made no plans.

In my mid-fifties, knowing that the window of opportunity was closing, I wrote a blog post about my Bucket List. On that this was “Hike the Grand Canyon.” At the time, I was serious.

Approaching sixty with back issues and arthritis I shifted my plans and began talking to Scott about taking a rafting trip. I wanted to do with when I turned sixty-two, which was my initial retirement date. For many reasons, that didn’t happen. But it did start us talking about the trip and how we could do it. We started looking at a summer trip.

Along came COVID, and later my diagnosis with prostate cancer and the date kept getting pushed back.

We tried for the summer of 2022, but I just wasn’t ready. Turns out that was the right choice because a week before we would have left, I finally got COVID.

Fast forward to the beginning of 2023 when Scott said “we’re going this year.” We agreed, picked a date range, and started making plans.

In reality, Scott started making the plans. We agreed that we would meet along the way and drive one of our vehicles to the canyon. He began researching campsites and trails and all the things associated with touring the canyon.

By this point, I would have been content to take the touristy buses and drive our little scooters up to the edge for photos.

Scott, on the other hand, is an outdoorsman, and a planner. And he makes a mean spreadsheet.

We’d talk about once a week, text or email more often, and we began to put the pieces together.

A few nights on the south rim. A few nights on the north rim. And some interesting points in between and after.

We had reached the point of no turning back.

So, we didn’t.

 

Available on Amazon.