Date: 2004-09-08
From: Clarendon Shelter

To: U.S. 4 - Rutland, VT 
Miles today: 16.3

I begin writing tonight with a smile on my face. I¢m at 12 Tribes Hostel in Rutland, VT. As of this evening I have money (thanks Carla), my maildrop, a hew headlamp (thanks Brian), and an awesome place to sleep. In addition God really touched me with a song this evening. Here is how my day of pushing towards the post office went:I awoke in stealth at around 7 a.m. I packed up in silence, got water, used the privy, and prepared to go. Before leaving I had some of the glazed donuts Knuckles had bought. They were great and the sugar rush certainly did not hurt. As I left everyone was still asleep. I had 16.3 miles to cover including the 4-mile climb of Killington by 4:40 p.m. to get to the post office. As I began the climb out of the shelter my legs ached and my stomach hurt. Still, I walked upward. After the initial uphill I crossed a few fields. A heavy dew still covered the grasses and the air was soft. Flowers surrounded me seeming to enjoy their fleeting moments before the dawn of autumn. I was touched by the beauty and thanked God. My stomach pain intensified though and I fought to ignore it. I prayed about that too. The solution was simple and involved a 5 minute stop on the side of the trail. Rejuvenated, I hiked on. The next few miles were wonderful. I reached a brook where 2 hikers had left sodas. I enjoyed a ¢Dr. Thunder¢ before hiking on. The trail skirted a brook and forged its way through thickets of pine. Every so often another flowering field would emerge. After 6 miles I took a break at Governor Clement Shelter, 4 miles from the peak of Killington. After my pause I zoned in for my climb. At first the climb seemed gradual but then it intensified. The terrain was not as steep as it was narrow and riddled with rock and root. I pretended the climb was a game and I high stepped over the numerous obstacles before me. Then after 3 miles the slope leveled, I was on the flat plateau before Killington¢s peak. That mile was gorgeous. The pines were tightly grouped hindering the light from its secret shade. It was colder up there and the smell was fresh. Indian Pipe was still blooming and dark purple mushrooms hovered over the pine needle carpet. I walked enchanted until I reached the stone cabin known as Cooper Lodge. There I caught my breath and reflected on the morning¢s beauty in solitude. My last 6.4 miles were almost all downhill. I breezed down the mountain carefully avoiding mud and slick rocks. I was tired, but I had to reach the post office. As I walked I thought about the future, my desire to serve God, and my confusion as to how to address both my debts and the feeling that I am supposed (?) to work with youth. I did not find an answer but I had a great time of meditation and thought. Dead tired I reached the road at 3:15 p.m. I quickly received a hitch to Killington. The driver scared me (mildly senile), but we made it. There I received food, my light, and a $200 money order. I was so excited. I hit a small snag when no one would cash the money order. My plan had been to see if Knuckles and Underhill had made it to the Long Trail Inn, but instead I needed to hitch to the larger town of Rutland. I immediately received a hitch from a kind guy named Josh (?). Josh gave me an apple and told me about Rutland. He had been headed to his bank anyhow. There at the bank they would not cash the money order unless I was a member. Josh (?) however was allowed to cash it with his account. Three minutes later I had money for the first time in weeks. Josh dropped me off at the bus station and said goodbye. I knew there was a hostel behind the station and found it shortly thereafter. It was inside the ¢Back Home Again Caf©¢. Within minutes I met Kesher who led me upstairs to the bunkhouse. The hostel is new and just being finished...this means plush new mattresses. After taking a shower and donning loaner clothes I felt like a new man. Time for dinner. The caf© is full of herbal drinks, organic foods, and the like. I treated myself to dinner. I had an amazing roasted vegetable pizza with a salad of mixed greens and a vanilla cream soda. Wow! After dinner I sat at the drink bar to read my Bible and think. As I did I met multiple members of the community. The 12 Tribes is a community that tries to live like the early Christian church. I may not agree with every tenet of their society but I certainly believe in living the gospel in action and being a chosen generation who lives for God.I met Paratz, Kesher, Omed, Masharet, and others. We talked about the Bible, their beliefs, problems in the church, and more. While I invited conversation, I still did not feel ¢attacked¢ at all. The group seemed concerned more with hospitality than espousing belief. I talked for a particularly long while with Omed, who by chance lived very close to where I¢m from for 24 years. The group still observes many traditional Hebrew practices. I hope to attend one of their meetings before I leave. It¢s also nice just to be free to openly discuss God without offending others. For the last few days I have been praying about being ¢clean¢ and living for God, not me, in everything. Before bed the following song was on my heart: Give Us Clean HandsWe bow our hearts, We bend our kneesOh Spirit come make us humbleWe turn our eyes from evil thingsOh Lord we cast down our idols¢¦(So) give us clean hands, give us pure heartsLet us not lift our souls to another (x2)Oh God let us be a generation that seeks, That seeks your face oh God of Jacob (x2)As I opened my Bible I opened to Psalm 24 (by chance) the exact Psalm the song is based on. Verses 3-5 are as follows: ¢ 3. Who may ascend until the hill of the Lord or who may stand in this holy place? 4. He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not lifted up his soul to an idol, nor sworn deceitfully. 5. He shall receive blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.¢The verse really touched me as confirmation from God. I don¢t write this to ¢Bible-bash¢ those reading my journal, but it¢s what is going on with me. I long to turn back to a focus on God rather than me. I also long to seek his will over mine in they final days of my journey. I finished my night with a brisk walk in the rain and some time for thought. I just had a conversation with Mark, my bunkmate tonight in the hostel. I feel so touched daily and by far more than money. God is with me out here¢¦Wow. Goodnight, BEATBOX   ttt