The wind whipped my hair into a cool-looking mess. The cold seemed to eat through my wool “Artic-Territory” jacket. My hands slowly grew white, like they always do when exposed to degrees lower than 50. My feel slowly became wet as the snow seeped through. I pulled my scarf tighter, trying to keep it from following the wind. The voices of my family, tourists, and who-knows-what-else blended with the wind. Cameras snapped. Snowballs whizzed by there and there.
Still I just stood there.
The view was captivating.
I was standing on the top of mountain overlooking Aix-les-Bains. It was not a particularly beautiful day…cloudy and cold.
But the view…
Before me were the mountains in the direction of Aix-les-Bains, Chambery, Grenoble, and Italy. Some higher than others—some with clouds surrounding the peaks and others cloudless. But all were a beautiful blend of snow capped peaks, autumn colored forests, blue sky, cloudy sky, and sunshine.
“There’s times, son, when men have to fight – to save the things they hold dear. “
-Quote by General John Pershing’s father towards the end of the Civil War, 1864.
Let me ask you something. Is there something in your life that you hold so dear, that you are willing to lay your life on the line to keep it?
In our world today that is full of war and rumors of war, there are men and women that take this quote and live by it. The men and women of our armed forces are living this quote out. Despite the chaos back here at home, despite the many people that belittle their job, despite those that say they want to protect them more by bringing them home, despite the fact that Death stares them in the face…they fight because they hold dear something in this world.
There will come a day though, when you will also be asked whether you believe the above quote or not. Death will be staring you in the face. You will be asked if you will sit down or continue standing.
So, what are you willing to die for? Or are you even willing to die?
I sit in a train bound for Albertville. It’s one of those really fast ones, Train Grand Vitesse, or TGV for short. It can or actually is, travelling at around 200 miles per hour. Due to the speed of this iron monster, the French countryside is speeding by. Not as fast you might think for 200 mph, but still fast enough to make is one big blur. And even though I like trains and the sensation of riding in one, the thought struck me – Do I live my life from a train window?
Meaning, do I speed through my life at 200 mph and not catch the little details or tiny wonders along the way? Do I sit back passively and let someone speed me through my life? Am I content with a big blur?
There’s something that can be said for going through life slowly…of course we can only go as slow as God allows, but I would hate to speed to towards the goal, only to get there, look back, and not realize how I got there…
In the end a TGV train gets me home faster than driving. I feel that buzz, that American buzz, in the back of my head that says – “I SAVED TIME!!!” But once there, how much did I gain if I missed the journey along the way?
'Take a deep breath. Clear your head. You can do this…'
I want to THANK ALL OF YOU for all that you gave so that I could go on this adventure!! Thank you for your prayers, they were definitely felt! Every step we took we felt as if the Lord’s Angels were around us, protecting us and opening opportunities to minister.
WOW.
...Ok, can I stop there?...
I honestly don’t know how to start this…much less do the deal…or even how to finish it.
I don’t know how to sum up my two weeks in Croatia and Bosnia.
As I sit here, memories flood my head, pictures flash before my eyes, sounds ring in my ears…and honestly, my eyes have started to brim with tears.
How do you sum up the two most impactful weeks in your life? How do, how can you start normal life again? How can you keep that fire inside of you burning? What is normal life?
So I am going to attempt to give a recap of my two weeks, focusing mainly on the highlights…
Hang on and enjoy.
The Team…
First, just a picture of the team…please look at it closely because I will say people’s names and you will want to know who I am talking about…
Front row (L-R): Asaélle; Steven; Geoffrey; Alice; Josias; Noéline.
Back Row (L-R): Carlo; Myriam; Ben (team leader); Christophe and Chantal; Déborah;
Doris;Christelle.
Photographer: Yann – husband of Alexandra.
The Two Weeks at a Glance…
August 15th: I arrived, by train, in Albertville from vacation in the North of France. I dashed home and packed my suitcase, ate some McDo’s, and then spent the night at Thierry’s house with Robert and Steven.
August 16th: We woke up at around 3:30 in the morning so that we could be at the meeting place at 5am. A small portion of our group, actually a family, was already in Croatia, so the remaining 18 of us pulled out around 6am in the morning. We drove the whole way, a lot of hours for all I know, and arrived at 11 pm in Gracac, Croatia.
August 17th: We spent the day sleeping, holding a worship service as a team, and then looking at, for the first time, Kamp Fokus (or Fokus Kamp according to Sam…). Kamp Fokus is about 15km from Gracac. Eva, Danjiel, Vieko, Emilya, and Robby work at the Kamp all summer. Right now, it is at stage one – meaning there is one house standing and everything else is in the process of or waiting to be built. We helped put the walls on the second house and also do some ground work.
(L-R) Vieko, Robby, Emilya, and Eva.The house after we enclosed most of it with walls
August 18th: The work began. Each day we would leave the apartments that we were staying in and drive to Kamp Fokus. We would eat breakfast there, have a little devotional with some worship and then begin to work. The work was fairly basic. Digging trenches for water pipes, building walls, clearing forest away, treating wood (notice the green color of the house above, it is not paint…), laying down new gravel on the road, etc. We would eat lunch and then have a 2 hour siesta every day. Really, really nice. The afternoon consisted of a little more work and then some more free time, in which the guys usually played soccer, while the girls…wait what did the girls do? Watched us, I guess…Next was dinner – And can I just say that the food there was superb thanks to Emilya and Eva! After dinner the girls would head back to the apartments to take advantage of the indoor showers, while we, the manly-men, braved the cold outdoor showers at the Kamp. The evening, until midnight or so, was spent at the apartments playing Mafia. No joke, that game became the game of the trip. We played it so much! (and a little poker as well…)
August 19th – 21st: These three days were spent pretty much like the above. It was a whole lot of fun to work as a team and learn about each other through that. Nothing brings a team closer than a good dose of teamwork.
Here we are playing Mafia. Deb, in green, to my right, was one of the Mafia…even though she swore she wasn’t…immediate sign that she was...
Stephen,Thierry, and Steven putting up a wall…the boards we had to work with were often warped and difficult to, well, work with. Hence the sitting on it.
August 21st: The girls, with Ben and Chantal, left for Stolac, Bosnia. There, they ran “un stage du français”. Basically they taught French to kids from ages 5 to 15. They stayed there till the 25th. From what they told us and from the pictures we saw, they were very impacted by the kids and just the opportunity to reach into the lives of so many young ones.
Needless to say, all of us guys wished they had stayed with us…we kind of got edgy with each other after several days… :)
We, the guys, stayed at Kamp Fokus until the 23rd. A team from Spain arrived the 21st and joined us in working at the Kamp. On the 23rd, a Saturday, we drove to Split, a large town on the coast of the Adriatic.
August 23rd – 24th: Split is a beautiful city. Situated on the coast of the Adriatic, sunny all the time, and very touristy friendly, which is what we were in a sense. There were 12 of us, 11 guys and Sandra. Sandra stayed with the girls from the Spanish team, while the rest of us split (haha) up into two apartments. I was with Thierry and 4 others (Phil, Sam, Rob, and Stephen). We stayed with, Ivan, a single guy from the church. I will talk a little more about this guy later…
Anyways, we went to church on Sunday. I almost thought I was back in America because it was so much like an American worship service, except that everything was in Croatian. Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon/evening we toured Split and went swimming in the Adriatic. The Croatians love to stay up late and keep their shops open late, and this we took advantage of. JPizza at 11pm, anyone? That being said, I am absolutely in love with Split and would love to go back!
The city of Split, Croatia.
(right) Envious? Well, you should be...
(above) ALL THE GUYS.
August 25th: Monday morning the guys packed up and left Split at 9am. The girls, meanwhile, also packed up and left Stolac. We met in Mostar, Bosnia.
(Above) the river that separates Mostar in two, on the left, the Catholic side and on the right, the Muslim side. The Mosque on the right side of the river is the one we went into…
That afternoon was spent in Mostar, sightseeing. What was sad was that this city still bears plenty of marks of the war that was 15 years ago…very, very moving. Below are some pictures just to give you an idea, but also look at the Picasa web album marked ‘Mostar’…
A building in the middle of town…
The deal with Mostar was that during the War of the Balkans, one side of the river in Mostar was Catholic and the other side was Muslim. Thus, here it was more of a religious war if anything…the atrocities that passed in this city between the two parties were horrific beyond imagination. While you can only see the effects of the war on the buildings, there still rests the tension between the two religious groups.
August 26th-27th: Tuesday and Wednesday were spent in Mostar. We stayed in the dormitories of a Bible institute there. Tuesday was spent doing door to door evangelism – passing out packages that the church and Bible Institute had pre-prepared. Some of us, me being one, were designated the night before to run a sports camp for the local neighborhood kids. That morning was spent playing soccer amongst ourselves because no one showed up and the rest of the team didn’t have places for us in the cars. We did go into Mostar with Ben and visited a Mosque and a several French language centers -- the Bosnians have a love for the French language (don’t know why….) ….And visiting the mosque was just eye opening – here we were inside a Mosque, had to pay a whole 2 €uros to get in, and it was just odd to be inside it, I almost felt like we weren’t supposed to be there…kind of like, “what will happen if they find us, Christians, here?!?!” Granted the Bosnian Muslims are fairly low-key compared to the radicals of the Middle East…but just the thought gave me shivers up my spine…
That afternoon we prepared the worship service that we were going to do Wednesday night in Split. A group of us prepared the worship and another group of us prepared the “Everything” skit done to the song by Lifehouse. It was a little stressful that afternoon, but the Lord gave us grace and understanding and we weren’t forced to play Mafia to settle our differences.
That evening the “kids” showed up for the sports camp. Turned out to be every teenager under 30 in a 2-mile radius showed up determined to teach the French boys a lesson or two in soccer. Just for your info, we held our own, despite the circumstances…
(first) -- Dalibor, the pastor of the church there in Mostar – the church is located in the Bible Institute. Alice and Alex are also shown in the picture…
(second) – The French team after a hard night’s work of soccer…we played on a sweet outdoor, concrete court…really gives a nice dynamic with bouncing it off the walls and such…
August 27th: Wednesday morning we got up, packed the vans, and hit the road. We were headed to Split to do the Wednesday night service there at the church….
On the way we stopped at The Falls of Kravica. It wasn’t a very necessary stop, but we had to eat lunch somewhere, right? So we spent 2 hours or so eating lunch and swimming in the sub-zero degree water.
We arrived in Split with about an hour and a half to spare before show time. Honestly, with the French (sorry everyone) that is not a whole lot of time.
Nevertheless, we got set up; instruments hooked up, ran through the skit several times, and even did a little shopping as well.
I must testify that everyone was really nervous. I think that the idea of leading worship for a group of people that don’t speak your language thus you are leading it in a second language for you (English) was very nerve racking for some. Those of us that were doing the skit, just prayed, because never in my life had I seen a skit be ready to go on “air” after just one day of practice. But then again, there is a first time for everything…
The service began with the Croatian worship team opening it up with a little worship. Right after that, we did the skit.
I have never in my life, seen a more well done skit for the amount of time given to practice for it. I am not saying it was us, at all, it was God. It was just very simple, we just followed the several YouTube videos of the “Everything” skit and prayed that it would be understood. When I think back on it, I still get goose bumps…there were people crying!
After the skit, we moved into a time of praise and worship. We did 4 English songs and one French song. It was probably my first time to really lead worship, through a mike, lead vocals and all that. Yes, I was a little nervous. I don’t know how many of the Croatians could speak English much less French, but that auditorium has never been louder. If they didn’t know the English they joined us in Croatian. It was like a picture of heaven! Many tongues joined together to make one, in praise of our God. I was the “worship leader” and yet I stepped down from that platform more impacted than I have ever been impacted. I honestly wanted to cry…and I have when thinking back on that time…
After our worship time, Ben shared a message on missions.
Immediately after that we grabbed our things, left our vans, and walked down to the port to catch a ferry…
Across the bay from Split is the Island of Brac. We spent our last two days there just as a team, resting.
Wednesday night we caught the ferry at 9pm and got to the island at around 10h30pm. We ate dinner, pizza again, at 11pm. I have never been so tired and yet as hungry as I was that evening. It was truly an experience, not really a cultural experience, just an experience.
On board the ferry – Deb, me and Thierry – it was a little cold…
August 28th-29th: We really were tourists here, but we deserved it.
The island of Brac is big island in the Adriatic in between Croatia and Italy. We stayed in the city directly opposite Split. I am not exactly sure what the name of it was, but it was all on the water front, many shops, many restaurants, and other touristy things to do.
We spent most of our time on the beach. The stony beach….sand didn’t exist there -- either that or playing soccer, shopping, or eating. I mean what else do you do?
Thursday we had a team meeting during lunch. This was really a special time because we got a chance to share our hearts, our favorite moments and just debrief a bit. I think what originally was planned to be a rather short meeting turned into several hour meeting. But it was needed. Thierry also used that time to share a few words with each team member – share what he most admired or found most encouraging about each person throughout the trip. This type of “meeting” is something that I hadn’t experienced for a year, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I was there.
On a different note – the Adriatic is very salty. The saltiest water I have ever tasted. But we still enjoyed it…due to the ridiculously low prices we were able to rent paddle boats for an hour. It was truly amazing!
Below are just several pictures that sum up a little of what we did those two days – pictures speak more than words.
In the Adriatic with the paddle boats!
(Top) – A little Mafia on the beach, a must have!
And little soccer….another must have.
(Below) – Bonne Appetite!!
August 29th -30th: We left the island around 4pm on another ferry. We went back to Split, ate our last pizza dinner, picked up our vans, said good bye to the Danjiel, Eva, Robby, Emilya, and Vieko, and hit the road. It was, I think, around 9 o’clock in the evening.
I thought at first that Ben, Carlo, Christophe and Thierry were a little crazy deciding to drive through the whole night…but they did it! Most of us got some sleep…using one another as pillows or grabbing sleeping bags and bundling up. Or we did random things when we couldn’t sleep – like playing chess at midnight. Ever heard of that? You have to be really awake, trust me.
We crossed the French/Italian border at around 8 in the morning. At about this point everyone realized we were actually back home…and no one liked the idea.
In Closing:
I have never experienced 2 weeks like these 2 weeks. I still don’t know how to sum up what I experienced, how I feel right now, or what’s ahead for me. Here is the last journal entry that I made, as we drove back the last night.
“In the car on the way home…NOOOOOO!! This has got to be the best 2 weeks of my life. Nothing could have been better than to spend 2 weeks with youth that all have missions in mind…I feel part of a youth group again. Oh and the past couple of days were awesome! They were spent on the L’Ile de Brac. Kinda the vacation part of the trip – spent most of the days on the beach – tanning. J But Wednesday night, our last day in Split, we did the church service at the church there in Split. We did a skit (everything skit by Lifehouse) and then did 4 English praise songs and one French. Probably most of the Croatians couldn’t speak English but that auditorium was never louder! I seriously wanted to ball my eyes out….it was so moving and yet I was leading it…honestly, I’m sold on missions. What else is there to live for? What is more moving than to see people worship the Lord? And yet what is more faith building than missions? I’m sold….overseas, or in my own backyard…I don’t care…it’s a life…and I’m willing to live it.”
“And He said to his disciples, ‘the Harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the Harvest to send out laborers into this Harvest.’” Matt. 9:37-38
“And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”
Matt. 10:38-39
I want to THANK ALL OF YOU for all that you gave so that I could go on this adventure!!
Thank you for your prayers, they were definitely felt! Every step we took we felt as if the Lord’s Angles were around us, protecting us and opening opportunities to minister.
Here are just some quick prayer requests that you can be praying for:
Pray for the team there in Split as they manage the church and Kamp Fokus. God has richly blessed them with courage and determination, so pray that the funds and people will flow in!
Pray for Ivan. He was the guy that several of us guys stayed with in Split the first time. He is an ex-druggie and has lived a rough life. Right now though, the Spirit of the Lord flows through him!! He has rooms full of New Testaments in Croatian, just waiting to get into the right hands. Please pray for him and many others there in Split, as they work in the Lord’s Harvest!
Pray for our team, as many of us are looking to go again to the Balkans and/or Nepal this coming year. We don’t know how, at the moment, but we have faith that if God wants us there, He’ll get us there!
Again, Thank You and May the Lord Bless!
Here is the link to more pictures – I would look at them if I were you!!
(okay, so no link. Go to the right on my page and find the link that says 'Croatia/Bosnia'. Takes you to our Picasa web album.)
You've heard of the Leonardo De Vinci, right? Right, okay, and you've heard of his famous painting, The Mona Lisa, right? Yea, it's supposed to be an amazing work of art....
For me when I think of an amazing work of art, I think amazing work of art, right? You know -- big, bright, amazing detail, captivating...etc etc.
Okay, I would like to meet the nut who said that The Mona Lisa qualified to be an amazing work of art. Besides the fact that De Vinci painted her, she really doesn't qualify, in my opinion...except for maybe (just maybe) detail-wise. I'm betting that this nut had a little to much good French wine before he looked at this painting...because it was only afterwards that he insisted that the Mona Lisa stares right at you, no matter where you are standing (including behind it...).
So my experience with the Mona Lisa is well, a typical experience with this painting...basically disappointing. Anyways, I was in the Louvre with my Dad and my grandparents. Really, the only reason we went was to see the Mona Lisa, Venus of Milo (the most famous of the millions of naked women statues...) and just to say we went. We followed the signs to the Mona Lisa...and got distracted by everything else on the way. When we got to the huge room (and surprisingly the most crowded...) that she is supposed to be in, we walk in and walk around in circles looking for it...I was looking for some gigantic woman that took up a whole wall. Then we saw her.
A whole wall is dedicated to her. Ironically, she is maybe twice the size of my 14" screen TV (yea I know I am behind the times...it's more like 16" now.) And of course there was a mass (mass = several hundred) of people in front of her and so the size we saw was more like the window on my microwave...which is small by the way.
Now my Grandmother, Grammy, like any good tourist wanted pictures of the painting. I don't blame her either, if you are there you had better take pictures because the likely hood of wanting to come back is slim when you stand in line to see paintings all day...
Being the good grandson that I am, I volunteered to barge through the mass and grab some photos. So I plunged into the mass...hoping that it would open like the Red Sea, but not really believing that it would either... And was confronted by the notorious B.O. of the French. Never in my life have I been squeezed between so many stinky people at one time. Thankfully it only lasted for about 5 minutes before I popped out on the other side. As soon as I did, I whipped out my camera and started snapping (snap it out). So the Mona Lisa is small enough when you are standing right in front of it, but they make you stand about 10 feet away from it, defeating the purpose of barging to the front of the line. Nevertheless, I got about 4 pictures of her when I heard a security officer (there were 3 by the way...) start barking at somebody behind me to snap one shot and then move on. So I snapped 2 more (making it 6 photos in all) and then moved on. As I was moving on, I heard another security officer tell someone else that they couldn't film the Mona Lisa. Immediately I thought, "why?!?!?".....then again why would you film her? It's not like you are gonna catch her eyes moving on film, she wouldn't be that obvious...
And so my Mona Lisa experience ended with those thoughts on my mind....
I’m sitting here, in our 9 passenger VW van, by the window (the one that doesn’t rattle) watching the Italian countryside fly by. I’m surprised that it’s not a blur, considering who is driving. I’ve got music blaring in my ears, Jars of Clay I think. For me music defines and, later on, causes me to remember a certain time or experience in my life. So for me, something about Jars of Clay ‘s folk/country-ish/alternative rock music and lyrics, in my mind, goes well with these Italian suburbs. And don’t ask me why, they just do…
According to the signs we are approaching Milan. Milan, the fashion capital of the world. Not that I care, but I figured someone might. Ok so I just saw an office building--modern, sleek black glass, brand new, etc…the irony is that it is leaning. And the company’s name wasn’t Pisa. Must be the new trend or something…
And no, I am not making light of this as if this is an everyday experience, this is my first time in Italy. There is so much history here and not enough time to study it! And there is so much soccer here as well…I intentionally don’t make time for Italian “soccer” when it comes to that…Part of me doesn’t know whether to be amazed or not. For all I’ve seen, so far, Italy looks a lot like America. At least more than France does…therefore, they could just have one Coca-Cola plant and be more “American” then France. But yea, Italy has big highways (with the big ramps), lots of traffic, lots of 18-wheelers, same cars as France, lots of businesses (with their respective signs on their respective buildings…simple things like that drive me crazy…) similar gas stations, apartment buildings out the wazoo, etc. etc. They are only missing sky scrapers (something about how they are afraid they will end up leaning or something like that…) & I’ve still to see the big, greasy Italian holding half of a pizza in one hand & yelling “MaMa MiA!!!!” I guess you can’t go by stereotypes for everyone, though it sure does fit their soccer team. Sadly I am only passing thru Italy today en route to Austria. In one sense I’m glad to not be here because the likelihood of me spending my vacation in jail, on charges of overly aggressive body language towards certain Italian soccer players, is very high. And plus aren’t we all just so excited to go to Austria?!?!?! Austria and Switzerland combine to make the Boring Capital of the World. I’ve heard they are worse in regards to food, weather, and things to do, than England. NoWThAtiSBaD!! And the Swiss, who do they think they are? Richest country in the world, and the reason? Because they love their neighbors and slip money under the table to them as well…hope you like to be paid in gold watches. And the Austrians draw the English crowd. No, not the English-speaking crowd, but the true ‘we-speak-english-properly’ crowd from Great Britian. The reason? Because, like I said earlier, there is no difference between Austria and England, besides the fact that the mountains are twice as high. 5 out of every 8 days in July it rains or snows up on the mountains. It just blares, “Welcome home British!!” It’s a good thing that this doesn’t bother me at all…
Yet I am still excited to go new places and experience new cultures. …If I didn’t I couldn’t converse about and make fun of the many countries here in Europe. And I have a lot of fun doing it as well…I still enjoy it, no matter how drab and boring it seems. In the long run I’ve only got one life, and I don’t want to waste it, and the best way not to waste it is to enjoy one day at a time. Whether it’s in gorgeous Spain, rural Italy, snow-covered France, rainy Austria or England, I still want to enjoy it, cause the likelihood of me coming back is 50-50.
And yes, Italy inspired me with all these spontaneous thoughts…anyone like bunny trail stew?
Personally for me, camping makes life even more fun. Just the thought of braving the wild, making your own food, sleeping under the stars (in the freezing cold), showers (?), and resembles-a-tree toilette.What could be better? Well probably a lot of things…but that’s not the point.
Growing up in the States, we who camp are spoiled. Camp sites come with water on site, hot showers, regular toilettes, electricity, one set price, and possibly a TV if you brought your satellite.
Then you move to Europe…
Recently I went camping with about 8 buddies of mine. Being in France we decided to check out Les Gorges du Verdon, the Grand Canyon of Europe. Situated in the south of France, in between Marseilles and Nice, Les Gorges sont tres joli, er are incredibly breath-taking. But the campgrounds are another story…
After driving for 6 hours to Les Gorges (Map Quest said it would take 4 hours…), incredibly fed up with the French national “road” system, I was expecting to arrive at a nice “state” park with park rangers in Khaki ready to bathe my feet.
Oh, was I in for a surprise. In French, ‘camping ground’ basically means “open field with or without, depending on how nice we are, maybe a bathroom.” After passing several campgrounds that fit that description, my first reaction of laughter soon died on my lips. Even though, I still wanted to laugh as we pulled up to our campground. The sign read, “Camping a la Ferme”, or “Camping at the Farm” (rabbit trail -- for how much the French hate English words being used as every-day words they have failed to translate ‘camping’). Haha. In the distance I could see a shepherd with his flock of 4 sheep…
The “farmer” I guess, came out and a little too eagerly offered us a site. Considering we were the only ones there, I could see why. But because we didn’t feel like sitting another hour in our cars, we accepted.
Then we took a look around at our surroundings.
The field was situated on the side of a small hill. The campground took up the bottom half of the hillside. In the middle of the campground, much to our relief, was a bathroom (ok, so we live in France but we haven’t gotten the everything-can-be-used-as-a-bathroom mentality quite yet!). Of course, it was still European -- Uni-sex, Turkish toilettes (also known as squatty-potties), actually very hot showers, and a huge painting of a rock-climbing mermaid on one side of it.
Our site was on the higher side of the campground. It was probably the nicest site in the place, considering you got a nice view of the whole campground and the surrounding scenery from it…including the mermaid…
After convincing ourselves that it wasn’t all that bad, (and it really turned out to be an awesome campground) we began to unload the cars and set up camp. Our tents, a big 6 person and small 2 person, were up in about 10 minutes. Next, we threw our sleeping bags and bag-packs into the tent and then piled back into the cars. Our destination?
Les Gorges du Verdon.
Les Gorges were about a 10-15 minute drive from our campground. L personally have never seen the Grand Canyon, so I can’t testify as to how this compares to it, but it was the most beautiful site I have ever seen. Just the beauty of the rock, shrubbery and blue sky combined together was just amazing! The thing that I enjoyed the most or was most beautiful in my eyes, was the water. The river that crept through the bottom of the canyon had this beautiful Caribbean blue/aqua green tint to it. It looked so inviting!! Yet once in it, one could only stay for about 5 minutes or less it was so cold! I took a lot of pictures instead…
Next, we took a short walk to a look-out point at the top of the canyon. From it we could see about a half-mile of the canyon before it turned the corner. After the look-out, we took a short walk along the edge of the canyon. For me it was very sensational to stand on the edge of a canyon and look several hundred feet down at the river, slowly creeping on.
At about 6 o’clock we headed back to the campsite. As there was no electricity, thus no light, we had to start thinking about eating while we could still see what was going into our mouths. Not only that, but as the sun started its decent, it started to get colder and colder – colder than I thought it could get in May. Thus most of us wanted to wolf down some good camp cookin’ and then either hit the sack or spend some time practically sitting on the fire to avoid the cold…
Out of all the camp cooking I have had, the meal we had that night was exceptional…scrupulous as I like to put it.
What was the meal?!?!
HOBO STEW
Yea, so you have probably heard of it, but I am telling you, if I lived back in the day, I would have been a hobo because these guys ate good!
Basically you take several sheets of aluminum foil and lay them out, one on top of each other. Next you put all your favorite veggies, chopped finely, several hamburger patties, your fav spices and some butter onto the foil. Afterwards, wrap it up nicely – making sure there are no holes or openings. Finally, place it on the coals for about 30 minutes.
And afterwards, woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwww!!!
The hamburger patties have soaked up all the veggies juices and spices and vice versa with the veggies and hamburger juices. Hot, tasty and plenty of it --- couldn’t get better. Truly, truly amazing!
After spending about 3 hours around the campfire telling crazy guy stories, those that I won’t go into detail here, we crashed into our tents. Oh, it was so cold and uncomfortable! I had 2 sleeping bags, a good pad, my long-johns, and several long-sleeved shirts and yet I was still cold and uncomfortable. Never the less I still got some good sleep, considering the long ride earlier that day.
THE HIKE
The next morning we got up (yes seriously, I know it amazing, we actually got up…), ate some breakfast, several of us fried ourselves in the shower (but oh so refreshing!!), packed a lunch, and jumped back into the cars. It took us about 15 minutes to get to the top of the trail head we had picked out. It was about 11 o’clock…7 hours later, 6 o’clock precisely, we were at the end of the trail. I have never hiked a longer yet more beautiful trail in my life!! It totally changed my perspective of hiking! I am love with it now…
From walking through California-like forests, to Amazon rain jungles, to beside the Caribbean blue river, to being at the top of the canyon looking down, to mile-long tunnels and limestone gravel trails, this hike had it all!! I absolutely loved it. Of course afterwards, we were so tired that we about fell asleep before we got back to our cars…
Rabbit trail--- that night we had ravioli from the can, heated up over the fire. Yea, a big step backwards from Hobo Stew. Needless to say I had to visit the squatty-potties that night as well. I won though…and I also wore more clothes and grabbed an extra pad which made the night absolutely 100% better!
The next day we grabbed some breakfast, packed a lunch, basked in the showers, and took down camp. And here is another funny thing about French campgrounds---we go to pay, expecting the guy to say, you know, “well it is 20 euros a night to stay here.” Instead he goes, “uh, you will need to pay the following—4 euros a car, 5 euros a tent, 4 euros a person, and 5 euros a night.” So after 30 minutes of rounding up and rounding down and consulting the calculator we came up with the price. Just one of those things that the French are notorious for – “why make it easy when you can make it difficult?”
After that we crammed into the cars. We hadn’t done any shopping or picked up any new stuff yet all of our stuff seemed to have multiplied somehow. We were headed to Les Gorges encore. We were going to attempt another hike. This one was about 5 hours long and in the opposite direction that we had gone the day before. The first hour was spent getting to the bottom of the canyon where the 2 trails split. Here we ate lunch and then 3 of us continued on, me included. This trail had a narrower trail, with nothing between you and 100 feet to death. Thus it was by far more exciting and just as beautiful (God having blessed us with 3 days of perfect weather)! We had to cross the river twice, usually I am fine with that, but this was a little hairy. Brian, the guy who got this trip together and also scouted out the trails, said that this passage across several rocks to the other side was a piece of cake. We, me and Seb, only realized too late that Brian is a rock climbing pro and thus everything is a piece of cake. But, thankfully, we kept ourselves out the cold, fast, very blue river, though not before asking Brian what he had been thinking! J Halfway through the hike we happened across a cave and were crazy enough to go spelunking. It was a very interesting cave, always going up at a steady incline and very, very muddy. Once we got to the top or were it was to hard to continue we turned around, only to realize that because of the mud we would be sliding down and out if we weren’t very careful. Anyways somewhat muddy we emerged from the cave. There were 2 other hikers that happened to pass by as we popped out, but they passed by as if seeing 3 American guys, speaking English very loudly and somewhat muddy, emerge from a cave was a normal, daily occurrence.
Sadly, unlike the day before’s hike, we had to go back the way we came to get to the cars and our 6 buddies. So at about 5 o’clock we were at the bottom the canyon looking up at the last 30 minute lap of the hike, all uphill with the afternoon sun blazing down on us…and very little water. No joke, and don’t call me a girl, I about fainted several times. But at the top it was all worth it. I was very tired, but very proud of myself.
The torture, that I about didn’t survive, was the 6+ hour ride back that night. I was hungry, tired, sore, and very frustrated again with the lack of direction or creativity of the French road “system”. However, we made up for it by pulling into the KFC in Grenoble at about 10 o’clock. Yes we are True Americans…
