The Beauty of the Journey

So often when we travel there is a tendency to be fixated on the destination that we fail to embrace and enjoy the journey. This last leg of our trip was like that a bit for me, but a week later I look back and realize how amazing it truly was. We last left off on our way to Denver. It was a fairly uneventful and short drive to "The Mile High City," only about three hours. We arrived and parked our little house in the lot next to our friend Jacqueline's home. She and her family live in a very nice, newly developed area of East Denver. In the excitement of seeing our friend I did something I have not done in a very long time.... I locked my keys in the truck. Thankfully, we have AAA and they were there in no time to take care of it. We spent the next few days in their lovely home as we did some "city" things. We attended the annual Cherry Creek Arts festival near downtown Denver, and enjoyed some of the local fare at The Cherry Cricket (Great Burgers!) and Liks Ice Cream, both of which I highly recommend if you are ever in the area!

Soon we said goodbye to our friends and journeyed west into the Rocky Mountains. The drive seemed short on the map and GPS, so we thought we would be fine on almost 3/4 of a tank of fuel (which would usually take us about 300 miles). However, we did not realize just how steep some of the mountain roads were or that pulling our trailer up these mountains would use a quite a bit more fuel than usual. When we made it to the last steep hill just below KOA, our low fuel light came on and I thought "Thank you God, we are going to make it." No sooner did we pull onto our pad site than we ran out of fuel. We actually had to push our rig a few feet to clear a place for the slide out. Again, I am so thankful to God for getting us there as we could have run out of gas on our way up one of those very steep hills and been in a very different situation. He is faithful.

We spent the rest of the week up in the mountains exploring Central City and the surrounding areas. On our last morning, I took the boys fishing at a small lake that was not too far from our camp site. We saw lots of deer around and some fish jumping, but sadly caught nothing. It was special to me though for it was the first time I had ever taken the boys fishing in Colorado, and I have so many great memories of doing that as a boy with my family.

Anxious to get on the road to Yellowstone National Park, we decided to leave in the evening and drive through the night. So we loaded up and prepared to set out, but not before facing another situation in which God would intervene. As I was backing up the truck to pull around and hook up the RV, I felt my tire crunch on something and thought, "Oh great one of the kids left a bike/scooter/toy etc. out and I hit it." Then as I  was getting out of the truck to see what I had hit, I heard the cry of my youngest son. I rounded the truck to find Ben sitting on his bike crying as he stared down at the broken training wheel on one side that the truck had smashed just missing his leg and leaving only a small scratch. If I would have backed another inch, his little leg would have gone under the wheel. God is good.

So after the trauma of that, we hit the road and drove all night. Around 4:30 am near the Grand Tetons, I finally could go no further and pulled over to sleep for a bit. After a couple hours reset, we crossed the beautiful mountains, and in a few more hours, we were at Yellowstone West. We napped for a bit after setting up camp and then headed for the park for the rest of the afternoon. We saw elk and a huge lone coyote and of course Old Faithful!

We decided to spend all of the next day driving through the park and to bring a picnic lunch to enjoy. It was amazing. We saw more elk (they were everywhere), tons of buffalo (also everywhere), and best of all we got to see a mama grizzly and her cubs!

We found a great spot on the lake to hang out and spent some time there relaxing. The beauty and majesty of God's unspoiled creation is truly breathtaking in this place, and I wish we would have had more time there, but the Journey called us on to Washington. So we headed out early the next morning to cross through four states on our way to the coast. Finally, very tired and a little late, we pulled into my in-law's drive for a few weeks of family time and rest.

So once again, I look back on the journey and realize all of the amazing things that took place in a short amount of time, thankful for where I have been, for the memories, for the safety of my family and God's  loving mercy. To those of you who are followers of Christ I will say this: We are all on a Journey of faith and our ultimate destination is a place far more beautiful than our imaginations can even comprehend. However should we be so focused on the destination that we miss out on all that the journey there has to teach us? 

Finding my family, finding my dog, finding my God

When I plunged my feet into the icy waters of the Arkasas river in Canon City, Colorado, the rush of the  controlled deluge filled my head with images of the past, of all that I had seen this last week. We had a relatively uneventful trip from Canyon, Texas, driving out of the Panhandle plains and into New Mexico by way of Raton. The foothills of the Rockies began to emerge as we came into the mountain pass that welcomed us into Colorado. Thankfully, we had  no problems on those steep inclines. Our truck (Gracie Lou) pulled  our house (Dale) up and down with ease.

We arrived in Canon and set up the house, then met with my sister-in-law, Beckie, to get the lay of the land. She drove me around town telling me about places to go and things to do. I soaked in the scenery enjoying the mountains on almost all sides. We had dinner and made plans to go to Colorado Springs the next day.
We drove into the city of my first memories and found the house I had lived in. I asked the owner if I could take a few pictures of the outside, and he actually said I could come in and see. It was so cool to walk into that space again, and so funny how small everything looked now. Next, we went to Garden of the Gods and let the kids hike around on some of the trails and rock formations. The Garden was even more beautiful than I remembered with  its red stone sculptures jutting up into the clear blue sky.

Next, we made our way to Helen Hunt falls where my family used to picnic when I was a little boy. By now it had started to rain, which was welcomed for more than one reason. First, it cooled us off quite a bit, second, Colorado has had severe drought, which has spurned many wildfires, and lastly, I really summer rain. So, while others sought shelter, I strolled about in the rain and took in the beauty of the falls.

The next day, I went "up the hill," as they say here when indicating that you are going up into the mountains, to visit my niece, Anastasia, who I have never met before, and my two nephews, Billy and Edward, who I have not seen since they were babies. We had a good visit, and then I came back down the hill to visit with my brother, who is currently incararated in Fremont County. We had a good hour long visit, and I have hope that he is getting the help he needs in there.

The hits kept coming the next day, as my sister-in-law took me to see Parkdale, Colorado where my dad grew up. I have a picture of me standing in this same spot with my dad, but I was 3 or 4, so I don't really remember it. Standing there and trying to envison what it was like to grow up in rural Colorado during the great depression and World War 2, it was hard to imagine and yet came easily to mind as I recalled all of the stories my dad used to tell us about his childhood.

Due to the fires,  we could not visit the Royal Gorge, but we did drive up Skyline Drive ( a very narrow road the crests a peak with a scenic overlook) to see the city from on high. We had some amazing pizza at a liitle place in downtown Canon called Pizza Madness, just awesome stuff. The next day, I took the boys to the Pueblo Zoo and to see my Uncle Tony, who I have not seen in almost 20 years. Seeing him brought back so many awesome memories of going on fishing and camping trips as a little boy, as we were often with my uncle on those trips.

Our last night in Canon, we went "up the hill" again to visit the kids and watch fireworks near Westcliffe at Dewiss reservoir. I have never seen fireworks from a mountain top, and let me tell you, they look just the same as fireworks anywhere else, but they do not sound the same. The echo of the shells exploding booms  from the mountains like rolling thunder before a huge storm. Some of the bigger ones even have a strange whooshing vacuum sound when they explode, very cool.

Last, I have to mention a lesson I learned on this leg of the trip. I got a little "me" time as most of the time I have the boys when Martha is working. One afternoon, I set out with my dog, Charlie, for the river park where I could bring my devotion and study books down to the rocky waters edge and read quietly under the bridge while Charlie played in the water, which she loves being part retriever. I sat down and let her off the leash , something I know I am not supposed to do but trusted that she would be okay and stay close. Well it was all picturesque for a moment and then she decided she needed to run, fast. At first I could see her running up and down the bank and then she was gone. I was concerned as she was not coming when I called but I just waitied there knowing that she would come back looking for me soon, and she did but only to get very close to me and then run the other direction. I scolded her and called, tried to get her to play fetch so I could put her back on the leash, nothing worked she ran into traffic and my heart sank as I thought several times that she would get hit. Finally I went to the truck hoping that she would come to me there and she did so I was able to get her back on the leash.  I tell this story to get to this point. As I am driving away, kind of frustrated that I did not get the peaceful time meditating on things of God  I was looking for, the Holy Spirit spoke to me and said this. "Did you not see what I was trying to teach you? You are no different than that dog. I desire for you to sit and play with me by the water, but you so often want to run off and do your own thing, not listening to my voice or obeying my commands. I will wait for you and I will never leave you, but my desire is  not far from what yours was today."

Some of you might take offense to this analogy and I am sorry if you do, but take this into consideration
one of the Greek translations for the word worship is Proskuneo, meaning like a dog licking his masters hand.

Next we are off to Denver to visit a dear friend and explore the Mile High City and Rocky Mountain National Park!

Let Go and Let God!
Peace be with you,
Daniel Sandoval