Day 3, July 21: Sacred Journeys

Day 3, July 21: Sacred Journeys

I began the day early – rose by 7 a.m. and was on the road by 7:30. I find I’m much quicker getting going when I don’t cook breakfast. I grabbed a granola bar and bought a cup of coffee just outside the campground and hit the road on a glorious, crisp, Wyoming morning.

I hadn’t driven more than 20 miles when I came across Medicine Wheel in the Big Horn Mountains. Unsure of what I would find, I pulled in and parked, and decided to make the 3 mile round trip hike to see this sacred spot. Standing atop that mountain, observing what had been created as a sacred spot by members of various indigenous tribes and is still revered as a sacred place of worship, ceremony, and ritual, I was overcome with the beauty and history of the spot.

As I made the traditional walk around the site, I thought of others’ thoughts and prayers. I don’t pray much these days – I’m not sure who I would pray to as I don’t believe in a personified god any more. I thank the universe for conveniences and when things go my way, but I’m not sure what that means either. I thought, as I walked, I could thank Mother Earth, but that too seems insincere on my part. The earth is just an extension of ourselves. I feel we are, in the truest sense, simply an extension of the natural world. I find the science to be revered more than stories we tell about it all. But still, the beauty of those Wyoming mountains, the trees, animals, sky, clouds, and even the various trinkets and talismans other humans had offered up at this site, invoked William Blake’s lines from “The Tyger”:  “What immortal hand or eye /Could frame thy fearful symmetry?” And I had no answer.

From Medicine Wheel

This lack of an answer, however, didn’t distress me, or cause me to wonder what was wrong with me, or create guilt that I didn’t believe what so many others thought I should believe. It simply settled with me. I realize my spiritual beliefs have evolved away from myth of any sort. God, if there is one, just is. It lives in those rare present moments I sometimes experience without judgment, without expectation, without disappointment or satisfaction. It’s everything and it’s nothing. It’s me and it’s you. It’s the mountains, it’s the traffic, it’s the emaciated homeless woman and the obese millionaire. It’s simply everything. The trick, of course, is to live in that place of oneness. There the face of god is as evident and obvious as it is elusive and hidden when not in that place.

So I realized this journey I’m on is a vision quest of sorts. It is a quest to live more fully in that awareness, and to be just as at peace when I’m not there. And I am grateful (to whom or what I don’t have the foggiest) that I have the luxury of taking this journey through these beautiful lands wherein I’m traveling.

In the Wild Horse Sanctuary

Speaking of the physical journey I’m on, after the Medicine Wheel, I took another short detour up into a wild horse sanctuary and saw a few, very well-fed looking, “wild” horses. One stood in the middle of the road as I and a few other cars drove around her.

Then I hit the road north into Montana and enjoyed miles of scenic drives to arrive here at Inez Lake. It’s in the Lolo National Forest and the campground is small and free with no running water or electricity. It sits on a beautiful lake. The water is so clear I can see every pebble in relief. I waded in when I got here, unable to resist. I plan on swimming there tomorrow after a long hike in the Bob somebody-or-other Wilderness (I’m too lazy to go look at my notes).

My campsite

Finding this campsite is another story in itself. The short version is that I stopped in small café in a little town and asked for advice on camping. A few patrons told me of numerous campgrounds around Seeley Lake, and suggested I look here. They also suggested a few good hikes. As I sat in the car, perusing my map, another man who had been at the bar approached my car. I rolled down the window and he told me of a small lake, past the one they’d recommended, that he was very fond of. He thought the name was Holland or something like that, but he was adamant that it was worth the hunt.

All the campgrounds were full around Seeley Lake but instead of panicking, I kept looking, realizing even if I had to sleep in my car, I would be fine and the experience rich. And then I saw an almost hidden sign that said Lake Inez – Camping. I had passed it and turned around. I followed a narrow dirt road to the one open spot left. Funny how those things all fall together, isn’t it?

And now, I’m off to bed for a full day tomorrow.