Katahdin

(This is my last post about Katahdin for a while. I have explored all the themes that rolled around in my head from last year's trip. Lord willing, I'll have more after my next excursion this fall.)
I love the mountain. The mountain is wild and free, full of beauty and danger. The men of old did not climb it, for they believed that the gods of lightning and thunder dwelt in the mountain and would kill whoever disturbed them. They revered the mountain, understanding that the great granite spires would as easily cut a man, as with the edge of a knife, than hide him in its cleft. They did not name the mountain but simply called her, "The Great One."
When I was fifteen, I climbed up to the twin pools called Basin Pond. There is another pool further up the trail called Chimney Pond that lies at the very base of the giant stone walls that reach 2,000 feet up into the chilly northern air. We would have gone up there, but we didn't have time. Still, the views from the edge of Basin Pond sufficed. From there, I could see the entire basin and the twin peaks of Turner Mountain to the east. It was my first taste of the wild. Mr. London was right; there is a call.
It took me seventeen years to get back to Katahdin and make it to the top. The mountain is a gem with many facets, colors, and textures -- the Dudley caves, the Knife Edge, the Tableland, the Abol Slide, the North Basin -- each cut of the ancient glacier resplendent with beauty and grandeur. There are small wonders, too. A tiny spring produces a mere trickle of water nearly 5,000 feet above sea level. An annoying medium-sized rock, right in the trail, provides a stunning view of the cliffs on three sides. And, of course, that old clearing alongside Basin Pond, where I first fell in love with the wilderness so many years before.
I have come full circle, not just around the rim of the Great Basin od Katahdin, but also in my life. I came lonely, but came back alone. I see the difference now. The One whom my soul loves is here, and here I am.
Go out, and stand on the mountain before the LORD. And - behold! - the LORD passed by.