Words of Encouragement

I haven't used this blog very much to talk about what has been going on in my life besides all the adventures. In actuality, I have been quite active without going on any large adventures. The past two weeks have had several highs and lows, from intentionally putting myself through public degradation to having meaningful one-to-one conversations with a friend while hiking by the light of the moon. Even this very morning has had both highs and lows.

I woke up at seven this morning and went for a run with Kayla, one of my fellow ACMNP (A Christian Ministry in the National Parks) affiliates. It was good to get up and get my blood flowing first thing in the morning while enjoying the cool morning air before the afternoon heat kicks in. When I returned, my roommate was packing his bags. It seemed like a déjà vu from last week, when he was packing his bag and planning on leaving because of issues related to alcohol. Last week he got to stay but he was never completely unpacked by the time he found out he needed to go home to be with his family this week. It was sad to see him go so suddenly.

I finally got to see some moose and bears! Hurrah!

A couple nights this week I took advantage of the full moon and clear skies. A group of us jumped into the lake Tuesday night and howled at the moon. The water was, and I'm starting to think it will always be, freezing cold.
On Monday night, Henry, a friend living in the room next to me, decided to hike up Signal Mountain with me at 11pm. It was a great chance to just get away from the typical party noise of the dorms. We walked through open hillsides where the moon let us see clearly and we walked through forested areas where all we could see were shadows. We managed to do the entire hike solely by the light of the moon. From the top of Signal Mountain, the Jackson sage-flats were fully illuminated in a cool blue light below us.

Henry and I are both the type of people who prefer one-to-one conversations, as opposed to group conversation, because we tend to be reserved in large groups. There is something about group conversation that prevents us from expressing who we are. Maybe my pride tries to defend me by not letting me talk about anything of meaning or maybe there is just not enough opportunity for expression in group conversation. Either way, it often seems as though group conversation can take on a competitive nature, where you have to fight for your voice to be heard. Regardless, this hike provided both Henry and I with a great chance to connect, especially since a bunch of people decided not to follow through with their word about joining us on the hike. We had some great conversations, talking about the big and little things in life.

I have been camping the past two weekends with most of the other ACMNP kids here in Grand Teton. It has been a great experience for us all to spend some time together, since we are spread out throughout the park the rest of the week. We are even beginning to have ACMNP alumi join us on our adventures.

While hiking through a cloud of misquitoes, I definitely overdosed on DEET a couple days ago. I also made the mistake of breathing through my mouth and inhaling mosquitoes on four separate occasions. I woke up the next morning with either the West Nile Virus or a blood-deet level past the legal limit. I spent the next half day unable to stand up straight. I had no idea bug spray could be so potent.

The past couple weeks we had Staff Olympics. I had participated in a relay race and beach volleyball, but last Wednesday marked the finale to all Olympic events: the talent show.

I like to dance. Most of the time I enjoy dancing when others are participating and not watching. There are two times when I have had to dance for public display in broad daylight. One time was when I tried out for the Calvin mascot, the other time was for this talent show. When I tried out for the mascot, I was only being judged by a private committee. For this talent show, I was not only being watched and judged by a committee and the majority of the staff, I had to do it in my underwear. The only plus side to this mayhem was that it was a means to an end.

Prior to the show, my team was tied for first place and two events remained: team banner and talent show. Someone on my team decided it might be good idea to re-enact "Risky Business" by dancing in our underwear, so I grabbed Bob Seger's "Old Time Rock and Roll" and was ready for action. Sadly, the person who came up with the idea also opted not to join us in the actual festivities. In fact, only two brave souls were willing to participate in the festivities composed of public degradation. I must admit that it was quite a challenge to get up on stage in front of 100 or so of my co-workers and dance in my underwear, but I did it. The price we paid with our dignity bought us the prize we sought. Even though we did not place 1st, 2nd, or 3rd for our embarrassment, we were able to grab participation points and seal our lead in first place for the Olympics. The gold was ours.


Although I do not believe we ever got the respect we deserved for taking first place in the Olympics, I have received recognition in several other ways. Last week I bumped into the general manager of Signal Mountain Lodge and he told me that, despite arriving later than my coworkers, I was leading the gift shop in comment cards from the customers. I was pleasantly shocked to hear this.

As far as worship services have been going, we are finally starting to have people show up now that the rain has stopped. I preached the last weekend in June and received some encouraging words. A member of our support committee, Jim, came to one of our morning services. He had been a pastor up until his retirement and was impressed with my sermon. He came up to me after the service and talked about his experience preaching. Prior to my message, I had mentioned I would be speaking my sermon from a manuscript. After the service, Jim told me not to worry about reading because it meant I had spent time in preparation. He told me, "the word of God is too important to be preached on a whim."
Later that morning, at the next service, I met JD Wetterling, an author and former fighter pilot traveling with his wife. JD and I also talked after the service. He too had mentioned that he really respected my sermon and even asked if he could post it on his website. If you would like to check out his site or read my sermon, it is on: jdwetterling.com

That same night, the National Director of ACMNP came to our 7:30 pm service and encouraged Katelyn and I about our worship style. He also spoke highly of my writing when I introduced myself at a ACMNP staff and alumi meeting the next day.

For the 4th of July, we celebrated America by eating fondue and going to a bluegrass concert. Although it was not quite up to par with past celebrations, involving inanimate cuddlables strapped to explosives, it was still a good time.

All in all, the highs and lows of the past two weeks have left me wondering where the summer is going and how to make to the most out of what I have left. My time for writing has certainly been curtailed by an increased social life but I believe I shall persevere. Altogether, I really appreciated all the kind words people have had to say to me over the past weeks. Thanks for your support! With your help, I am learning to be as encouraging as you have all been to me. Hope you are all enjoying each and every summer day as God gives it to you new every morning.

A Treadmill of Seasons

As a friend and I were hiking for 18 miles, we traveled 3,000 feet up the base of a mountain and into a canyon. We began to see changes in plant life correlating to the elevation and distance we traveled. The changes resembled the different life stages of flora we see in every season. We were hiking a seasonal treadmill; a treadmill where we watched the annual stages of plant life pass before our very eyes in the course of a day.

As we began our hike, a morning fog floated lowly over the foothills and left the green grasses of summer drenched in dew. The remnants of a evening gone past. With each step through the grass, a transaction occurred. The translucent drops of dew rolled off uncut blades of grass and fell onto our boots, leaving dark stains of saturation. With each brush up against the plants, our chocolate-colored boots became painted in darker and richer tones.

However, as we hiked further up and into the canyon, the plants started to change. The clouds dissipated and we started to regress through the seasons. Like a kid running up a descending escalator, our progress through the seasons was slow. An uphill battle against the treadmill of seasons had begun. In time, we noticed changes. Our first sign was the dandelions.

The dandelions were bright and yellow, like the ones found in an open pasture as spring grass begins to turn green. Popping up everywhere, the dandelions were our first sign that we had traveled out of summer and into spring.

After passing dandelions, we came across the buds of pine needles and fresh meadow flowers. The air was cooler and water was fiercer as we climbed higher. Eventually we started bumping into snow on the path. The grass was closer to brown than it was to green and much of it lay matted down from the recently melted snow.

After occasional patches of snow, we came to a point where it was all we could see. There is nothing quite like hiking in snow on a 7o degree day when the sun is beating down on you. The snow is pleasant at first; a novelty. Occasionally I would bend down to grab a snowball and throw it at rock just because I could. As the novelty wore off, my ankles began to grow tired of the unpredictable nature of snow as a hiking surface.


At the furthest point into the canyon, where the season of winter held its greatest grip, hiking in snow was no longer something I considered fun. Our arrival at a frozen Lake Solitude marked the climax of our venture into the seasons. The uphill battle against the treadmill of seasons had reached the coldest point into our journey. I stood on a rock next to the lake and took off my shirt. From an outside perspective I would have looked like a crazy. There I was, standing in a canyon that was covered in snow, with my bare chest facing the brunt of a sweeping cold wind. The wind fell off the top of the canyon walls and gathered cool air as it swept across the lake. The wind hit me with a shiver as I put my shirt back on.

It was time to turn back; an opportunity to re-experience the joys of the seasons once more.

Winter slid by as we hiked into spring and continued on towards summer. The seasonal treadmill was now moving in the right direction but my water supply was not. By the time we reached summer, I had completely exhausted my source of water and was doomed to hike the last four miles without an ounce of water to quench my lips. Winter instantly began to look more attractive, and even the flowers of spring held a gentle touch of moisture that summer would not allow me to taste. A constant temptation was my companion as the trail eternally followed the meandering canyon river. To have taken a drink of cool mountain water would have been sweet at the moment but I decided to not to because of Giardia. As we progressed further back into summer I tried to avoid thoughts of the morning's abounding water, wasted on my boots. I tried to distract my mind from the thought of a liquid running down my parched throat and smoothing out the cracks of dryness that now inhabited the passageway to my stomach. The final stretch of summer brought us closer to the car as everything came to look as though it was a desert, leeching the moisture out of mouth. I tried to breathe through my nose to save any remaining saliva.


We finally entered the same elevation as where we had begun our excursion. A landscape that was once drenched in morning fog was now revealing empty trees, leafless from the fires of past. Although no crisp leaves lay on the ground under the trees, an attempt to see fall was the final stage of our venture across the seasonal treadmill.

When we finished, I was happy to step off the treadmill, drink some water, and go back to a place where the seasons move slow enough to be enjoyed.

Just an Update

This past week has been quite eventful. As of right now, my nose is bleeding. It has been bleeding for over an hour. Actually, its been closer to two. I know, crazy right? It was more of a slow dribble for the first half hour and now it just constantly feels wet. My blood just won't seem to clot.

Maybe it is because a couple days ago I went kayaking out to an island in Jackson Lake. I wanted to get some reading done, free from distractions. I got about a mile out into the lake before I realized the island had absolutely nowhere to leave my kayak. I came to the island and stared up at the wall of sand that should have been horizontal instead of vertical. The only place for the kayak to go was up. I took off my shoes and got out of the kayak. I set my shoes up on the land and took my first step onto the island. The incline was too steep, my bare feet slid in the dirt. I couldn't get traction. I had to persevere. I took another step. A cloud of dirt and dust plumed up between my toes. Few times in life have I felt so natural and raw. I dug my right foot into the ground, with rough stones twisting into the bottom of my foot. Pain was secondary if I could get any sort of grip. I lifted the kayak. I took another step but the kayak dragged me down. Dust trailed behind my feet as I slid back down to the edge of the water. I took a couple steps back up and secured myself. I decided to lighten my load. I threw my bag up the hill but it just rolled back down. I dropped the kayak and slide down the dirt like a third grader. A splash of water followed. My stuff was wet and gravity was mocking me, but I wasn't going to give up.

I paused to take in my situational circumstances. I thought about erosion and how plants prevent erosion because their roots hold soil together. I looked to my right and saw some plants. I took a step into a sagebrush bush. My foot discovered that sagebrush are not soft. With each step I was able to hold my ground and eventually lift the kayak up onto the side of the island. I took my backpack and kept the life jacket in case the kayak decided to leave down the hill without me.
I did some reading out in the sun and when I returned to the marina, I discovered I had been the afternoon's entertainment through a pair of binoculars. Well, not just me, but also there were some bears on the island. I hadn't known there were bears on the island. Anyway, I doubt that is causing my nosebleed.

Maybe it is from running a sprint for the Signal Mountain Olympics. I had not run since I have arrived here but decided I could do as well as anyone. After basking in the sun for several hours, I slammed some powerade and a couple apples before the race. Bad idea. The race started and I was the second-to-last runner for our relay team. I took our team from 3rd to 1st but it was not without cost. By the time I was done, I thought I might pass out. I had outrun my lungs. The next two days I was coughing like a chain smoker.

Or maybe it is because last night we went night hiking to some natural hot springs. People 'round these parts say that the radiation is off the charts...but it was worth it. We had to hike across a river in order to get to the hot springs. Eventually, we came across a hole in the ground where steam was pouring out. I touched the water; it was hot. The water trickled down into a little pool next to the river. Apparently, a few years back a bison stumbled upon the hot pool of water and decided it was a swell final resting place. Ever since then, it has been a festering cesspool of bacteria. Sadly, we didn't find the warning sign about possibly fatal bacteria until after we had spent two hours in it.

But I don't think that was the cause. To be honest, I think it is just the altitude. That, and maybe because I had a glass of wine right before I decided to blow my nose. I don't think alcohol helps with blood clotting. But alas, I think my nose has stopped bleeding.

The Big and Small

"Our citizenship in heaven defines our duties on earth."




Last Saturday I was hiking through a canyon with a friend. The walls of jagged rock on each side of us reflected the sound of a nearby flow of water. We stopped where the trail met the river. As we stood on the dry dirt trail, water launched into the air from the turbulent rapids and gently floated onto our faces. The mist was a refreshing contrast to the sun's rays. Standing there, we observed the power of the rapids in front of us. Individual drops of water were being tossed around from rock to rock, flying out of the water and landing with a splatter. I started to pick apart the noise I was hearing. On one end, there was the high pitched sound from the splatter of individual droplets and yet, that same sound, compounded millions of times over, sounded like a thunderous roar. Every drop was building towards a larger sound and yet every drop was distinct in its own. There was something so enormous yet so unpretentious about the sweeping force of water flowing in front of me.

Learning from the droplets of water, we must work together on our duty. Our duty on earth is to preach the gospel in all we do and strive to build God's kingdom. If we work together, we can be a thunderous roar instead of a small splatter. Together, we can contain a power never achievable alone.

Today, a fellow Christian (Bill) here at the park came up to me and gave me a book about the work Christ has set before us. Bill said he overheard me reading a fortune cookie. My cookie said, "You will receive an unexpected gift from an acquaintance." He didn't think much of it at the time, but after he read his own cookie, which said, "You will gain power in the project you are to carry out," he started to feel the Holy Spirit tugging on his heart to pull us Christians together.

Neither he nor I deny God's ability to use any means necessary to wake us up and set ourselves aside for something greater. If God has to use a couple superstitious fortune cookies to get us to pull together, then He is going to do it. Like the individual droplets of water, we have a specific duty. When we shed our motive to act solely on self-interest, we can see that God holds a duty for all Christians: a duty to work together for one purpose, His purpose.

I believe God is calling us to be thunderously loud. To preach the Gospel thunderously loud with our actions, thoughts, and, when necessary, with our words.

A Touch of Serenity

Finding a moment of peace here can be more difficult than you might expect. Living in these dorms just seems to prohibit any sort of peace and quiet. Every night, I am just one room away from a raging party.
But after last week Sunday's evening service, I finally found time for reflection and renewal. I walked from the amphitheater to the edge of Jackson Lake where there is a steep drop off of 25 feet to the lake below. I sat down directly across from the sun, watching the reflections from the water dance on the eroded bank beneath me. In front of me was a picturesque view. Not only the lake, but the entire landscape was calm. The texture of the water was smooth and undisturbed, looking like squares of fabric stretched out on a canvas, ready to be painted. On the other side of the lake, the sun was lowering itself out of the sky. Its shining rays were still too much to look at; I had to look down. As I did, I absorbed the sun's warmth into my body and collected my thoughts.

I thought of the world all around me. Bustling city streets filled with activity. Businesses and bars. The scurry and scamper of our idol-worshiping culture. The idol of efficiency. Cut costs, cut time. Save time, save money. A relentless cycle. A furious flurry of motion. And there I sat, static in world of motion. In my stillness I find aches I didn't know I had. Aches only discoverable in silence, only when I am still. They flow out of my bones, through my muscles, and into my nerves. From the daily grind, our earthly aches only come out in sleep. Now, flowing through me I find comfort in just acknowledging my aches with every breath. I sit in tranquility and breathe. As the sun disappears, my breath appears in the air and I watch the aches and pains drift off over the lake. Behind the mountains. I find peace knowing my pains are leaving. I feel God's hand. A touch of serenity and I am healed.

My First Preaching Experience

Last week I spent most of my free time preparing for the first worship service that I would be leading. To say that I wasn't anxious would be a lie. In fact, there were points in the week where there was a black cloud of worry in the back of my mind, partially paralyzing me from living life to fullest. But the Lord works in mysterious ways. As I spent time in the Bible I began to find words of comfort that helped fight off the cloud of worry in my mind, namely Matthew 10:20. In it Jesus says, "do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you." After reading this, I had a driving force behind my work. I decided to preach on the interceding work of the Holy Spirit.

I later stumbled upon an analogy by James Packer. He says, “Like a floodlight, it is as if the Spirit stands behind us, throwing light over our shoulder on to Jesus who stands facing us. The Spirit's message to us is never, ‘Look at me; listen to me; come to me; get to know me’, but always, ‘Look at him, and see his glory; listen to him and hear his word; go to him and have life; get to know him and taste his gift of joy and peace.'"

I saw a chance to learn from the selfless work of the Holy Spirit. Like a floodlight, we should put all of our thoughts, words, and actions into shining towards Jesus. Matthew 10:20 made me think of how the Spirit can provide us with the words to speak and James Packer's analogy tells of how the Holy Spirit reveals Jesus to us. If we allow the Holy Spirit to work through us, Jesus will be illuminated brightly to us. Just as a floodlight makes an object appear, if we listen to the Holy Spirit, Jesus' words and path for us will appear clearly.

When Sunday morning rolled around, there was some rainy weather and no one showed up for our morning services. Katelyn and I used the time to have our own worship service. It was good practice to actually go through with the service even if there was no congregation. After the service we went to have communion, took a hike, worshiped with some of the other Christian Ministry members and came back for our evening service. Katelyn and I got set up at our amphitheater and began to talk about about our understandings of heaven and Jesus 2nd coming. Time passed as we discussed more theological topics. When we finally stopped talking, we realized the time for people to come to our service had passed. Again, no one had showed up. I decided to spend some time in solitude. I walked thirty yards to the edge of the lake and that's when God really spoke to me: in soft tranquility.

The New Guy

At work, I heard someone ask one of my co-workers outside of the store: "Who is the new guy?"
I smiled and waved.

I arrived here later than almost everyone. Many of the people have been here for over a month and, even though this is the first season for most people, the cliques have already been established. I have some catching up to do as far as establishing myself with any certain group of friends. Or maybe I should be fighting that very thing. I think God may be using me to reach out to those who aren't in any cliques and who don't have many/any friends here. Today, when I was counting the cash from the cash register the general manager walked by and asked me if I was assimilating well. I lied and told a half truth.
I seem able to meet people but I have tended to shy away from certain social situations (mostly the night life) because of certain conditions (mostly the excessive drinking and non-stop chain smoking). Other than that I am thriving on the community and attitude here. Especially during the day; we are supposed to portray a friendly facade for those staying at the lodge/resort. It makes me in a good mood. Everyone is very friendly and talkative during the day. Frankly, I think I max out my capacity for new names everyday.

Anyway, today is the first day that it didn't rain. I will be attributing this feat to the fact that I saw a new girl getting a tour of the area. She seems to be my counter opposite. She arrived with sunshine and blue skies whereas I arrived with the luggage of puffy clouds and down-pouring. I took advantage of this by going on my first real hike up Signal Mountain (although I don't know if it can be classified as a mountain if we mounted it in an hour). Ascending the hill I talked with two girls, one of which is a lapsed Baptist. We talked about problems in the church and selfish motives behind them. At the peak of the mountain was a great view but we had to share it with a thousand mosquitoes and a female grouse. Sadly, she had the best seat in the house; perched proudly in a pine tree overlooking the cliff.
I think I'll always be the new guy here as long as I'm still amazed at the landscape and the wildlife that inhabits it.

Settling In

Upon meeting many people on Friday night and Saturday morning I discovered how few of us serving in the Christian Ministry there actually are compared to the rest of the seasonal workers. There seems to be two age groups among the workers here at Signal Mountain: those in college or just out of college and people over fifty or retired. After my first shift in the gift shop I discovered I would be working with the latter age group.

My first Saturday consisted of me getting up to a dreary grey skied morning and milling around until I began work at three. I first learned the register and later all the other things that go along with the job. The rest of my time I spend cleaning. Many times I am cleaning things that I wouldn't even have noticed were dirty. I particularly enjoyed the hard to reach spots because they were actually dirty. My manager soon noticed my ability to be tall and I was soon harnessed to take care of other things. I am now merely a domesticated animal to carry out domestic tasks. Instead of a farm, this place is a high class gift shop. The upper echelons of souvenir shops (at least compared to what I've seen) When you walk in the store, everything shines at you. Reflections shooting off glass and frivolous knick-knacks that have been polished with seven layers of polish. For the most part, we keep the place gleaming. I guess people want things to shine at them when they buy postcards.

Saturday during dinner I met the two other ACMNP (A Christian Ministry in the National Parks) girls that would be living in the same Dorm area as me. Kayla and Katelyn: Kayla is from Kansas and Katelyn is from Tennessee. We decided to meet up after I finished work at 8 pm. We got to talk a little about our selves and ACMNP while playing some card games Saturday night.

The next day, Sunday, I went with Katelyn to another part of the park (Jackson Lake Lodge) where we lead a worship service. It was raining just like it had been since Saturday morning. We lead a service with two other girls from another part of the park (Colter Bay). I lead the Call to Worship and Offering while the girls did the rest of the service. We had one person come to our first morning service and three to our second morning service. After that I met the entire ACMNP crew that will be in the park. We hung out inside for the afternoon because it was snowing outside (don't ask me why I brought any shorts on this trip).

Sunday night we drove back from Jackson Lake Lodge and were barraged with wildlife. Actually, it wasn't anything more than hundreds of Elk and Mule dear munching on some grass. Inspiring is the only word to describe it. The rain/snow had taken a break and everything was saturated but the sun was beginning to set behind the clouds. It was like something out of Fern Gulley.

Monday morning came around and again, it was raining. It wasn't so bad seeing as I had to spend all day at the gift shop doing some more cleaning. After work, my friend Ashley and I drove out of the park in search of Bison. It was still raining. I don't think it every stops raining. What is this? Seattle? We eventually saw a couple Bison laying out in some distant field but it wasn't very exciting. Ashley and I decided to come back around to the park entrance where we eventually saw some cars stopped on the side of the road. (In a national park, stopping on the road means someone in a car in front of you saw an animal...then everyone stops) We stopped because it was an animal we had not seen before. It was like a deer and an Antelope combined. Actually, it was neither. It was a Proghorn and it was taunting a Coyote. The Coyote didn't seem to think it was higher on the food chain so the Proghorn would chase it into bushes and around the road. Eventually, they both ran off far enough from the road for us to not care anymore.

As we drove on, the clouds broke up and we could see the sun beginning to set above the mountains. I snapped a couple shots as we stopped next to a flowery meadow. It was a sight to behold. Here were these huge black mountains textured with cracks of white snow appearing from behind a curtain of mist. As the clouds and mist began to lift I went nuts with my camera. It made me realize how poorly a lens attempts to capture the sheer depth and grandeur of the landscape. If you want to look at my photographs to get a sample of what its like out here then fine, but you won't really get a taste of it until you are here experiencing it.

I spent the rest of Monday night putting together my bicycle and longboard as the rain resumed its pouring.

First Impressions

DAY ONE:
I woke up at 3 am after going to bed two hours prior. My mother and I drove to Milwaukee and I got on my first flight to Chicago. Upon arrival at O’Hare I went on a exploration expedition of the airport before winding up at my gate. It was there I finally got some uncomfortable sleep waiting to board my flight. After loading up on my flight out of Chicago, the plane sat in line for takeoff and again to unload in Denver. I watched the minutes tick on my watch. I must have glanced at my wrist every thirty seconds as I anxiously waited to get the heck off the plane. When the seatbelt light went off I shot up like a weed and jumped down the aisle. In order to make my final connecting flight to Jackson Hole I needed to move but my seat was in the back of a 747. I watched as people took their sweet time getting their luggage out. I was not patient. I watched my departure time come and go while standing in the middle of the aisle. It felt like everyone else around me had fallen into slow motion. I got off the jet but was five minutes late. An older lady who sat across from me on the previous flight bought me lunch after we both waited in line at customer service to get our replacement flight out of Denver. We talked for an hour or so about life and culture before parting ways. She had a optimistic and pleasant way of dealing with life that helped to calm me down after missing my flight. It is interesting how you can share in such a friendly conversation with someone, talk about anything and everything in life, and then just say a simple goodbye when your paths no longer coincide.

My next flight was to Jackson hole. I fell asleep as soon as I boarded and slept until the descent of the flight into Jackson hole airport. I woke up to a view of mountains growing larger as we dropped in from the sky. It had just finished raining and the clouds were rolling off the mountains and smearing water across the sky. The flight touched down as I peered out the window, noticing how the majority of ground area was dominated by one single type of underbrush. I learned late it is called sagebrush. The sagebrush bushes that covered the landscape seemed sharp but veiled in a fresh and moist coat of spring leaves and rain drops. As I stepped off the plane and into the atmosphere I took in the aroma of wild fresh air. To me, it smelled like wet pine cones. It seemed fitting. After I got off the flight I walked into the airport. The airport was more resembling to an oversized and modern ranch lodge. I met Ben, who showed me to the car. It was there that we drove into the park. I noticed how flat the land was that the park was on and yet all around me were towering mountain peaks. It was beautiful; like a playing field for titans to wrestle in the expanse that lay before me. The dominating underbrush akin to turf or individual blades of grass. Whereas I was merely a spectator, shrunken down to find a new perspective. One of humbleness in such bold company as this terrain for titans. I gazed up at the walls to the dome. Forceful, ripped, and rugged the mountains protruded from the sod and disguised the fallen mountain snow and foggy air as one and the same. I waited for body to acclimate to this new perspective but it has not.

After arriving at Signal Mountain I was flooded with names and faces, rules and regulations, and the beauty of my location. We jumped into the fray by eating dinner. After dinner, more faces and places, more rules and regulations. I filled out my paperwork, then, wandering down to the laundry basement I got my uniform and bedsheets, headed to the dorms and threw my stuff in the new square corner of a basement dorm I would call my own. Leaving my stuff behind I followed Doc on a tour of the area and looked at more buildings with more regulations. Doc made it very clear not break rules because of the government behind them. Everything is a federal offense or has multiplied repercussions when you live in a national park. I got my room key and headed out to explore on my own. I wound up at the kitchen and ate some cereal as the sun finally began to burn bright and warm. I made friendly conversation with a girl name Ashely from Wisconsin and others who came and went in the kitchen. Free food from 7am till 12 midnight and a view of the sun setting on the mountain peaks, I had found my new favorite spot. Conversation was easy as people had set questions to ask about my whereabouts, school, or common interests; all of which lead to more conversation. I made my way out and saw some more campgrounds before meandering my way back to the dorms. I talked to some more new people and unpacked my things before going to bed much later than I would have liked.