Saturday I set out from Merced, CA and went through Yosemite. It was breath-taking, to say the least. The access road which leads up to the park is inspiring, but when you actually enter the meadow, it seems that the worries of the world just dissolve. I think that there is a deep-planted idea, or even memory, in each person of what the world is supposed to be like. Yosemite comes as close to that ideal as I have seen.

It's truly amazing how, 2 hours before being in Yosemite, some of the same people who stand awestruck and soul-fully content, were practicing road rage. A glimpse of how the world is supposed to be can do that.

Taking the road less traveled, I went up Hwy 120 which explores the northern area of the park- winding around bald rock, snow pack, rolling and boiling streams. THe air was clean and cool and smelled of eucalyptus and pine and cedar. 120 leads to Mono Lake and the desert out to the east.

The comparison between Yosemite and the desert east of Mono Lake was jarring. THe Nevada desert is a beautiful, but brutal environment. It was hot and dry and windy. The desert almost seemed alive. As far as I could see was blasted earth and rock. As the sun warmed, dust devils began sprouting. They looked like long legged giants loping along the desert floor. The way the pillars of sand twisted around, it looked like the gait of a shapely woman swinging her legs around as she walked. One of the devils disappeared as it crossed the road. It occurred to me that this was dangerous, so I bent low over the thank on the bike.

When the wind hit, it pushed the bike right over to the edge of the road. The desert is alive - it looks dead, but it is strong, violent stunning, and terrifying. I rode into Tonopah, NV, bought gas and set off on the wrong road. I was tracking where I was with the odometer. When a town with the wrong name showed up, I stopped at an RV park bear Beatty, NV - 100 miles south on the wrong road. So here I am almost in Death Valley. The lady at the RV park who was telling me where I really was could see the fear in me.

"Fear doesn't help, sweet-heart ... it only makes it worse."

Hmmmm, the voice of God in a 65 year old RV park manager?

Yep.

I ended up riding into Las Vegas. It was raining and there were rainbows all over. Funny, God's promise that he would never destroy the world again with a flood due to sin, in the city named for it.

Heading out of Las Vegas I crossed the bridge at Hoover Dam. The cross winds were awe-inspiring. Added to that, there was a 1000 or so foot drop if the wind could lift you off the bridge. As I looked out over the valley and the mountains, I thought, "This is what Tolkien would have thought Mordor looked like." The fear in me said, "This is not where I want to die!"

The feeling of fear was palpable. I really knew death was real. It shook me again.

"Fear doesn't help, sweet-heart ... it only makes it worse."

Really? Well how do you get past it? You get to the end of who you are.

As I pressed on, I imagined engine noise, drive train issues, i even doubted the tires. It occurred to me then, who was the Lord of the tires,and the drive train, and the engine? Who is the Lord of the wind, and the desert?

The next day, Sunday, I tried something. Me and God had a talk about weather. As I approached the Grand Canyon, rain began to move in. I asked the Lord to tell me how to miss the rain. I was in a McDonald's in Window Rock talking with a biker named Steve. He said, "Dude, you gonna stay here, or move on and get wet?" I said, "I;m waiting for God to tell me when it's time to move on."

He thought I was nuts, but I missed all the rain.

All my plans and abilities mean nothing. All I can do is step out and trust. Pray and trust. I cannot complete this trek on my own ability... that is why the Lord led me to this point. He wants me away rom all my plans and duties and responsibilities, to give me a glimpse of how the world is supposed to be ... the pure and undefiled example of just how simple life really is.