Stay on the Path

Stay on the Path

            Several years ago I accompanied my sons on a backpacking trip with their fellow Boy Scouts in the San Juan Wilderness of Southwest Colorado.  If you were to look at the trail we followed on a Forest Service map you would see that the trail leading into Emerald Lake is only a few miles long; however, you get a different sense of what that trail is all about on a topographical map.  The trailhead begins at an altitude of about 7,500 feet and the first few miles are relatively flat and tall ponderosa pine trees provide comfortable shade from the glaring sun at that altitude.  It would be easy for a first-time hiker on that trail to be lulled into a false sense of confidence during those first few miles.

            After the first few miles the path makes an abrupt turn up the side of a granite mountain.  The trail is well-traveled and marked in beauty by pristine mountain streams and breath-taking landscapes.  After a mile or two of uphill hiking with heavy backpacks there is a temptation to simply stop by one of the streams and to spend the remainder of your travels in one spot.  But, you press onward.

            I recalled stopping at a small bait and tackle shop on the way to the trail to Emerald Lake to get my non-resident fishing license.  When we told the proprietor where we were going a serious look came across his face.  I didn’t think much of it at the time when he said that we should be able to make it O.K., but that the trail was generally taken on horseback or with mules.  And, he did in fact mention that there were narrow parts of the trail that offered no protection from falling several hundred feet into rocky ravines.  He also mentioned the fact that we would have to pack above the tree line before we dropped down to Emerald Lake, but he assured us that the fishing was exceptional there since so few people actually made their ways there.

            As we hiked our way to the promised beauty and great fishing we came to a spot on the trail that was relatively flat.  Towering trees continued to provide good shade on a hot summer’s day.  Ahead of us, the trail crossed over a rock slide from the side of a mountain.  Jagged granite rocks the size of basketballs covered the trail for several hundred feet.  It was impossible to take a single step without stepping on one of these rocks.  Still, the path was quite clear as horses and hundreds of feet had passed over these same rocks over the years making the path a shade or two lighter than the surrounding rocks.

            After walking on these rocks for a hundred feet or so I noticed that just a few yards away from the path there was tall luscious grass growing.  The grass was close to knee high and was thick and plentiful.  Perhaps it was the thin air of 8,500 feet that clouded my thinking, but I decided to leave the path and walk in the grass where the walking would not be so painful on my feet.  The path, after all, had been difficult and truly caused my feet to ache.  The possibility of a twisted ankle was very real.

            I was feeling quite smug with myself and totally unrepentant for taking this easier approach on the way to the lake, but it was not long before I discovered that this course had the same granite rocks that the established path had.  The tall grass had simply made it impossible to see them.  Other dangers were hidden from view by the grass, such as tree roots and broken tree branches.  Not only that, but the tall grass made it very difficult to move forward with any speed.  I only had to trip and fall once before I decided that in spite of the discomfort the path held, being able to see the path ahead of me was preferable to not knowing what lay below the surface of the grass tops.  Besides, the rocks in the grass were just as painful as those on the path.  I repented of my folly and returned to the path.

            The path we take in life is often rocky and painful, but it is well-marked and traveled by other faithful followers of the Savior.  Sometimes the path seems so painful and difficult that we are tempted to stray off the path.  The way “over there” may seem more pleasant and appealing, offering an easier way to go, but it is fraught with hidden dangers that trip up the unsuspecting traveler and slows and has the potential to even stop forward progress to the ultimate goal.  The only sure way to ultimate rest is to stay on the path, and if you have left, to return to the path.

            The trail to the lake was not easy.  There were indeed narrow passages with steep drop-offs to the side.  The trail above the tree line was clear of nearly all vegetation, was rocky, and steep.  Backpackers took only a few steps at a time before having to stop to rest before moving forward another few steps.  There was no shade blocking the burning sun at nearly 10,000 feet.  But then we crossed the summit and looked down on the sparkling snow-fed Emerald Lake, surrounded by fir trees with tall grass and Colorado wild flowers.  The destination not only was in sight, but worth every step of the trail.  The words of the Apostle Paul came to mind as I gazed upon the landscape below me.  “For I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand.  I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing”

(2 Timothy 4:6 - 8).