Reflection: Hiking in the Flat Irons

Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn~John Muir.

While it has been a few months since this hike took place, I came along the above John Muir quote recently, and it made me think about all of the times I have spent hiking in the wilderness, and most recently our foray into the Flat Irons.

Jamie and I ventured out on a sunny Saturday morning with our good friend Derek Roberts after a week long conference where we were able to share Nuru in Colorado. Another friend of ours, Kris Woyna, had been encouraging us to check out the Flat Irons for a few years, and so we finally took an opportunity to do so. Jamie wasn’t feeling up for any summits above 10,000 feet this year, and so the Flat Irons seemed like a great place to explore.

The trails were absolutely beautiful. Like John Muir says, “Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees.” As we made our way through a few different trails along a four mile hike, our spirits felt more and more alive, and our hearts more peaceful.

Anywhere we travel, Jamie and I like to carve out time to be outside. Even when we are at home, we strive to get at least thirty minutes outside daily. Sometimes we are hiking trails, but many times we are hiking through our neighborhood. Our preference is always the forest though.

There’s something about wilderness that restores and refreshes us. Our conversation moves quickly into laughter and joy as we soak up new views and new experiences together. While we were in Acadia National Park earlier this year, we learned about a phenomenon called “Forest Bathing.” Apparently, there are extensive studies around the idea that being in the woods has lots of health benefits that can’t be reaped in city life. The article we read about it said that forest bathing will be the next ‘big thing’ like yoga has become. Who knew that all of us hikers, hunters, and outdoor enthusiasts were so far ahead of the trend.

If you ever make it to Boulder, be sure to hike the Flat Irons, but if not, get out in the woods and enjoy the gift as ‘the winds blow their own freshness into you.’ May we each take time daily to soak in the gifts of God’s creation and respond in gratitude to their benevolent Giver.

Hiking In Acadia Part Three: Sun, Surf, and Soaking It In

After a heavy day of hiking, walking, and running through the wilderness paths of Acadia, Jamie and I decided to change our pace a bit for the next day. We had discovered an absolutely beautiful stretch of rocky coastline (there are several, but this one was ours) in Acadia where we could take time to read, to write, to reflect, and to soak in the surf. And so, our pilgrimage was a bit shorter and more intentionally focused. Rather than scrambling from trail to trail and taking in new experiences at each stop, we decided to make our way to one place and plant ourselves for a spell. Partially this was a decision based on a bit of a twinge in my Achilles from a speedy 9.3 mile run the previous day, but mainly it was a decision based on finding our Acadia surfside sanctuary.

We made our way quietly along this path in the early morning and dipped down onto the rocky shore of Mount Desert Island’s southeastern shore. The sun appeared in fullness and for a significant period for the first time since our arrival. The waves crashed violently on the rocks, and the whole of our being sat mesmerized by the sights and sounds surrounding us. After reading and writing for a bit in a journal, I just sat back and watched the sporadic clouds above me change shapes as they drifted along the coastal sky. The rhythmic crash and retreat of the waves provided an exquisite soundtrack for this quiet Maine morning.

As if the sight and sounds weren’t already filling my heart and mind with rest and refreshment, I picked up a recently acquired book and started through a few pages. The book was a World War II story about the battle for Crete and how these island people formed an incredible resistance that gave Hitler fits. The book was about this moment in history, but in these opening chapters, it appeared to be as much about people who were living in good relationship with their surroundings—an aspiration for both myself and Jamie.

Sitting and reading, reflecting, and writing, Jamie and I both felt like this was a very different Acadia experience. It was as though we were adjusting to the rhythm around us and we were starting to experience true rest and refreshment. We were not concerned about the future, projects to be accomplished, or even thinking about what we were going to do when we got back home. We were content and our hearts were full with the gifts of the day.

And now, back in West Virginia, we have carried a piece of that Acadia morning in our hearts and into our daily routines. There is plenty of time for planning and working through logistics and conducting mental models for possible futures, but what we desire more of, and dare we say what all of us need more of is a sense of rest and relationship with the present moment and environment, wherever that might be. May we all aspire to find ourselves soaking in the sights, sounds, textures, and flavors of the present moment if not daily, then maybe weekly. And, if the time and space (and weather) permit, may we look heavenward as we lie upon the earth and watch the dance of clouds in the skies.

Hiking In Acadia Part Two: The Day We Hiked Our Faces Off

After a rip-roaring start to our first day of hiking in Acadia, we had decided that day two would be an attempt to explore as much of the park as we possibly could. We were due for 7.5 miles running as part of our training for Team Nuru International's Marine Corps Marathon exploits this fall, but we wanted to get some hiking in before our run. So we started on a fairly smooth and textured Ocean Path en route to Thunder Hole, but something about the path was just a little unappealing. It was a gravel path, and at least for the first few hundred feet it ran alongside a very busy stretch of road. We decided to backtrack and took another trail that took us along a small peninsula on the far side of Sandy Beach.

We looped around that trail and found a little rocky hideaway that I quickly became our favorite spot in the park. We enjoyed it so much that it became our place of rest and refreshment all of the remaining days we were in the park, but on this day, it was simply discovered and noted for a later time for further exploration.

After our first major hike of the day, we thought it was an appropriate time to venture toward Jordan Ponds House for some lunch including popovers-an interesting take on a roll that was pretty delicious! As we looked over the lunchtime fare, we decided on a buffalo meatloaf sandwich, and we were not disappointed. But we were pretty full, so we thought this was no time to think about going for a run. Instead we walked off the meal on a three mile hike around Jordan Pond Trail.

From there, we felt like we were ready, so we made a wardrobe change and donned our running threads. We made our way to Eagle Lake. It was a six mile loop, so we started thinking about creative ways to get extra mileage in. Where we landed was two different places on the mileage. Jamie made the statement that she was content with a little over six miles for her run since we had walked so many miles already, and that she wanted to run it easy. I decided the opposite, I wanted to run the distance a little harder, and try to push myself a little farther.

So we started the loop, and every couple of minutes, I would loop back to check on Jamie, and then dart forward again. In my mind, I wanted to push my pace, push my distance, and attempt to increase my steps per minute. The loop around Eagle Lake was a carriage road so it was graveled and even.  After our run we both felt energized and content. We finished together by walking up a connector road to our car and decided that we would call it a day after our run, order take-out, and make our way back to our room for rest and recovery. We logged about 19 miles that day!

Thinking back to it, there was something refreshing and enticing for each of us as we took different paths to push ourselves along trails both walking and running. It was as though the very wilderness was imbuing us with energy as we made our way along loops. I believe that as a result of our time, we are likely to incorporate more outdoor time into our weekly rhythms, and I hope that no matter where you live, your schedule affords you opportunity to do the same!

Cadillac Mountain Sunrise

While away on our wilderness adventure celebrating our fifth anniversary, Jamie and I decided we would attempt an early morning sojourn to the summit of Cadillac Mountain, and watch as the sun laid out its first golden beams on the United States mainland. Once inside Acadia National Park, there’s at least four separate trails that find their terminus at the summit varying in length with treks varying between two to four miles across uneven terrain and steadily increasing altitude. Earlier in the week, we had hiked a couple of the trails so we knew that the journey would be even more difficult in the darkness and thick fog that often settles on these coastal islands.  It would probably necessitate us arriving at the shortest trail head by 3AM to safely arrive at the summit by 4:55AM sunrise. 

And so, we decided to drive to the summit instead.

We woke up at 4AM and quickly hopped in the car to drive to the summit. We arrived at 4:43AM with a full twelve minutes to wait for the sun to rise. We joined ranks with approximately 20 other early risers and pilgrims seeking a glimpse of the sun’s beams as it touched the summit of this place in the land of the Wabanaki. We met a couple from Charlotte, NC who, similar to us, were making aggressive wilderness hikes daily during their time in Acadia. As we were talking with them, we also took a moment to share a laugh that the fog was so thick that the only clear indicator we had that the sun had risen was the fact that our watches indicated it. We laughed about the fact that we could just as easily have been on the summit of Mount Mitchell in North Carolina with the fog so thick.

As we were laughing, a soft-spoken Korean woman came up to us and shared a photo she took of this small group of early morning pilgrims who had united in pursuit of the first sunbeams to hit our country. It was truly stunning to regard in the midst of the mist and fog. She commented to Jamie and myself that she was so fascinated by the greys that enveloped the surroundings. She had made the drive from Long Island, New York to see her father in Bangor, but made a side trip to the summit of Cadillac Mountain and Acadia.

As we talked with her, she reminded us to enjoy the moments like this that are all covered in a thick fog. She said that everybody is looking for the peeking sun coming over the waters, but there is a beautiful mystery in the ways that shadow and light play in the fog and mist. She even stopped in the middle of her discussion to capture a photo of the drops of mist forming on Jamie’s eyelashes and skin. As we were all beginning to walk back to our cars, she told us that it was probably best for her to say goodbye to us right then because it would likely take her another ten minutes to walk the hundred or so yards to her car—she was so enthralled with the way everything looked in the fog and mist. We ended up discovering she is a professional photographer--it was lovely to see her so enthralled by the beauty she saw in the world around her!

We didn’t see the sun rise on Cadillac Mountain that morning, but we were given eyes to see so much more by our fellow morning pilgrims. We saw a common thread that stirred our souls to be among the first to greet the sun as it touched our continent. We saw common ties and stories that unite us. And, most importantly, we saw the marvel in enjoying the world as it is presented to us, and not always as we desire it to be.  May we continue to carry these messages with us the rest of our days.

Hiking In Acadia Part One: Journey to the Summit

Recently, Jamie and I had the privilege of traveling together to our Nation's easternmost national park, Acadia. We thought that one of the best things we could do to celebrate five years of marriage as well as our love for the created world was to spend some time in a national park on the 100th anniversary of National Parks!

We arrived in Acadia in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday shortly after checking in at this exquisite bed and breakfast called Coach Stop Inn (check it out if you are in Maine and please say hello to Jim and Anna for us!). After a quick stop at the visitor center in Acadia, we began driving the park loop and trying to decide where we would hike first. By unanimous vote, we decided to make our way to the summit of Cadillac Mountain. We saw a sign for Gorge Path, and we were off. But, we decided that instead of hiking the Gorge Path straight up, we would go the opposite direction and see where it started. We ended up hiking along a connector trail that took us to the Cadillac North Ridge Trail. We hiked steadily and smoothly all the way to the summit. Training with our good friend Derek Roberts over the last couple of years on 13,000 and 14,000 foot summits probably made this a bit easier than it would have been otherwise, but it was still a strenuous and awe inspiring hike.

When we made it to the summit, we soaked in an enormous view of ocean and and islands in the distance and wilderness all around us. Of course the journey would not have been complete without a star jump from Jamie at the top to mark the accomplishment. :)


From the summit, we decided to loop back around to the Gorge Path and make our way back down to our car. The first quarter mile from the summit had some fairly steep descents and we found ourselves not just hiking but scrambling at points. The lower we descended, the more we were able to hear the steady flow of a stream journeying alongside us in the gorge. The trickle steadily grew in volume (both of water and of decibels) and by the time we had arrived to a flatter part of the trail, we were listening a much louder flow of water providing us pleasant background and acoustic accompaniment.

On both the upward and downward journeys we had to pause every few feet to bask in the beauty that surrounded us. Every time we stopped, the view was not only incredible, but incredibly different. One could probably make the case that every perspective is slightly different, but these views were as though whole new worlds were opening before us. Even though we were traveling at a far lower altitude, the splendor around us was reminiscent of Colorado mountains.


Eventually, we made our way back to our car, and traveled down the road to Bar Harbor for a delicious local meal that we thoroughly enjoyed. And looking back on that day, we were gifted with a good reminder to pause from time to time and enjoy the changes in perspective provided by the present moment.

Happy 75 Birthday Dad!

My dad is one of the most amazing human beings I know. At 75 years young, he is probably more fit and more strong than many who are half his age—and that’s even after a massive heart attack seven years ago. My dad has always been a pretty amazing individual, and I don’t think I could write enough about the lessons he has taught me through his work ethic, his patience, his respect for others, and through his rich faith.

I remember when I was growing up, he would drive me to school EVERY DAY and pick me up EVERY AFTERNOON when school let out. He would ALWAYS find time for me no matter how busy his day was. He would be up early getting ready for work, and he would work late on projects around the house, in the garden, or helping our neighbors—at least on the occasions when we weren’t going fishing! On those days, him and my uncle Russell, and my cousin, Jo Ann would load up in Russell’s van as soon as he was off work, and we would venture out to see who could catch our limit of trout first. We wouldn’t stop fishing until the sun was going down.

We did a lot of fishing, me and Dad. Sometimes, when we would go fishing, he would reach his hand across the cab of his pickup truck and say, “Ol’ Billy Williams, used to be my buddy…” and every time, I would reach my hand out to give him a high-five, and say emphatically, “Still am!” And to this day, my dad is not only my dad, but he is my buddy as well. At my wedding, I had two best men, Willie (My best friend in the whole world) and my dad. My dad has been there for every important moment in my life, and it only made since to have him stand by me on my wedding day.

He used to take me to the PHS field-house every Sunday morning to play basketball for at least an hour. We would shoot free-throws, and he would teach me how to properly execute a hook shot. After a shoot-around and warm up, we would play a few games of horse or play one-on-one. I loved those mornings of us just hanging out. I loved them as much as the evenings fishing and the evenings practicing my fielding or my batting for baseball. Recently I was hanging out with one of my childhood friends who didn’t grow up with his father, and he told me that he always thought it was so cool that me and Dad did so much together. Growing up I just figured it was that way for every kid. Boy was I wrong!

My dad has one of the most intense work ethics of anyone I know—and he’s always looking for ways he can help others. Sometimes when he visits me, he will notice that the grass needs cut, and while I’m working, he’ll fire up the mower and cut the grass. When I had more trees around the house with low branches, he would come up and help me trim those branches too!

We don’t get to see each other as often as either one of us would like, but when we do, we always have a good time and great adventures. Whether it is going on long bike rides or hiking to the top of Seneca rocks, Dad definitely keeps you moving. I love that we get to explore so many parts of this world together, and I love that many of my friends have also had the privilege of meeting and spending time with my dad.

One year, I was able to save up to buy tickets to almost every WVU home basketball game for him to sit/stand in the student section with me. It was so much fun to be able to share some amazing times with dad at the WVU Coliseum to cheer on the Mountaineers. On top of all of the amazing character qualities my dad exemplifies and I strive to emulate, he is a HUGE Mountaineer fan! Part of my memories growing up consisted of listening to Jack Fleming, the Voice of the Mountaineers, giving play-by-play for WVU sports on my dad’s old transistor radio, while Dad prepared home-made pizzas for supper. And now, every once in a while, we will land a couple tickets to a WVU football or basketball game. And both of us have the same perspective on the games—as big of fans as we both are, the company we get to enjoy the games with means way more than our seats in the stadium.

Dad and Mom both taught me a lot about appreciating people, and appreciating the quality of time shared as much as the quantity. During my childhood, we would take bicycling ‘adventures’ from our house and ride to “The Point” (where the Ohio and Little Kanawha Rivers meet) and then make our way along the floodwall to explore some of the places along the river where he and his siblings would play and swim when he was a kid. The ‘adventures’ were always as much about the company as they were the location.

And today, on his 75^th birthday, my heart is overflowing with gratitude for a lifetime of memories like these that he has made with me—I know that just about everyone he knows well has a long list of similar memories made together.  And, for every one of us, we are filled with eager anticipation for the next set of memories we will make together.

Dad, I hope you have an amazing birthday! I am so grateful for every moment we have been able to spend together, every heartfelt conversation, every adventure, every Mountaineer victory (and loss), and every long hike, fishing trip, or bike ride. Even more, I’m grateful for all of the ways you have been such a solid example of the kind of man I aspire to be! I love you very much!