How Do You Feel about Spain?

I have been in Spain now for a week and a half.  Yesterday evening I sat on my patio overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and wrote down an answer in my little brown notebook to a question my Argentinean Spanish teacher was asking me, "How do you feel about your time in Spain so far?"  Good question.  I placed the tip of my pen on the paper and stared hard at the wood grain of the table.  I thought about this week's guest speaker, the CEO of a successful business in the States, and how after sharing the gritty details of his dreams and story of faith we gathered around and prayed for him, feeling the weight of his 10 year struggle to accomplish something for the Kingdom of God.  I thought about the church I had attended on Sunday and how I could feel God's presence despite understanding about 3% of the worship song lyrics.  I thought about how my back muscles felt at the top of the local rock face after having accomplished an "impossible" route despite having swum all over the Mediterranean earlier in the morning on Saturday.  I thought about the view of the African coast from the mountain top I had hiked to during lunch break and how tiny I felt in comparison to the world.  I thought about how my Spanish teacher would make me translate whatever I wrote down into Spanish.  I wrote, "I am loving my time in Spain so far." 

The village of Mijas Pueblo as seen from the top of the mountain on which is sits 

Swimming in the Med - a 10 minute bus ride from home

Climbing just a couple blocks from our home 

Just as I was hoping, the G-42 Leadership Academy appears to be a place of raw Christian community, practical Kingdom-centered academia, and experienced mentorship in a picture perfect location.  I live on the edge of the little village of Mijas Pueblo in an old white church perched on the side of a mountain.  My roommates are fellow students; six Americans, two Dutchmen, and one South African.  All of them want to change the world through love and I have no doubts that they will.  They are people of character, honor, and motivation and I feel blessed to live life with them.  The professors are some of the most accomplished and experienced people I have met, ranging from church planters to CEOs to non-profit visionaries. 

Sunrise yesterday from my patio 

The point of G-42 is to bring its "interns" to a place where they can make a detailed, practical plan about how they are going to love some people and reverse an oppression in the name of Jesus and then go do it.  The school accomplishes this through mentorship, discipleship, teaching, and intentional community.  It is an exciting place to be.  I am still trying to figure out exactly what I want out of my time here and what I am going to do afterward but I can honestly say from the bottom of my heart, "I am loving my time in Spain so far."  

What's the Most Beautiful Place on Earth?

Havasupai might be the most beautiful place on earth.  Imagine that unrealistic scene from "The Swiss Family Robinson" Disney movie when they happen upon a tropical pool surrounded by palm trees and jungle vines complete with water chutes to slide down.  Now place 50 of those pools in a row connected with the kind of creek a lazy-river ride tries to imitate, add some 200 foot waterfalls, and put that in the middle of the biggest, most rugged canyon on the planet and you have Havasupai.  Photos do it no justice, but even they look fictional. 

The Swiss Family Robinson Pool

This kind of place comes with a price though.  Some people wait years for a permit so they can drive hundreds of miles of back roads to hike a 10 mile trail down a desert canyon to access it.  Appropriately, I have never heard of anyone going for just one day.  Just the drive there and the hike down and up takes more than a day.

I lay awake on the couch regretting the cup of coffee earlier in the day.  It was 1 AM and I was thinking about my plan for the next two days.  My friend Phil and I had talked about hiking the Grand Canyon together ever since he was here in 2009, so in June we agreed on a 4 day span and he bought his flight from Baltimore.  Then, in the middle of September I decided to go to a school in Spain which unfortunately began the same day as our proposed hike.  I squeezed the hike as early into Phil's vacation as possible and booked my flight to Spain for two days after the first day of class.  Then, a week ago, the US government shut down most of its operations due to a lack of budget concurrence thereby closing all access to the Grand Canyon.  Just to top it all off, Phil missed his flight to Phoenix and arrived 9 hours late.  Now here I was lying awake on my couch wondering how I could get the most out of the next day and a half. 

Suddenly, with no meandering thought train, an idea presented itself in my head.  Havasupai is actually a small section of the Grand Canyon that is owned and run by a Native American tribe unaffiliated with the bickering federal government.  Why couldn't two young healthy men do it in a day?  If we started the hike at 5 AM, we could potentially spend a few hours in Havasupai and still get back home with 2 hours to pack before my flight to Spain.  Genius. 

A sign at the Havasupai trail head "No Day Hiking"

The next day I was firmly planted in the leather racing seat of our 2012 Ford Mustang rental car.  As I carved through the Red Rock Canyon road, my smile proved the worth of the $12 upgrade fee.  The plan was to spend "the night" (until 1:30 AM anyway so that we could get to the trailhead by 5) in Sedona at an 1800s log cabin that I had the incredible privilege of accessing through a friend.  It is idyllically situated at the bottom of Red Rock Canyon right next to a crystal clear mountain-fed creek, nestled cozily in the Ponderosa Pines.  We spent the evening warming our bodies around the wood-burning stove while playing cards under the hand-hewn rafters, trying to convince ourselves this was not such a stupid idea. 

Red Rock Canyon by Sedona

My alarm sounded at 1:30 AM.  My brain slowly turned on and I gradually remembered where I was and what lay before me.  I felt as if I had only been sleeping for 5 minutes.  Phil and I groggily packed our belongings, cleaned the cabin, and filled up our plethora of water bottles before easing into the low seats of the Mustang.  Normally I would have fallen asleep an hour into such a drive, but as it was, with the combination of the car, empty Indian reservation roads, and a night sky Galileo would have been jealous of, we arrived in 3 hours flat, an hour and a half sooner than Google Maps estimated, and I was wide awake.  

Just in case your feet stop reminding you how abusive the trail is

By the time the sky was bright enough to see our surroundings we were 3 miles into the canyon.  The sandstone cliffs towered above us and the limestone cliffs towered above them.  In typical Arizona fashion it was a perfect day with not a cloud in the sky.  We hiked fast and soon we were walking through the little village of Supai, the only town in the US that still has its mail delivered by mule.  While I can think of few less-convenient locations for a village, I am sure the view is unparalleled.  The unrealistically beautiful Havasu Creek rushes its way through this part of the canyon and over several mammoth falls before joining with the Colorado River 7 miles downstream.  It brings life to an otherwise arid landscape, the lush green jungle-like flora contrasting strikingly with the red cliffs and tropical turquoise water.   

Going for a swim

Unnamed Falls

Climbing to the bottom of Mooney Falls

Mooney Falls

After 5 hours of rock climbing, swimming, and fighting currents Phil and I rested for a late lunch at the top of Havasu Falls before our 10 mile trek back out.  I sat barefoot on a boulder eating my 4-cheese instant mashed potatoes with sardines and stared out over the 100 foot drop.  Tiny people played in the pool below, fighting the spray to get as close to the waterfall as possible before giving up and letting the current swiftly sweep them back to shore.  To my right, bright blue whirlpools danced around before calmly slipping over the precipice.  Above me, the towering cliffs shone brightly in the midday sun against a crayon-blue sky.  "Thank you God for your creation" I said aloud, then added "and for the incredible opportunity to experience it."  It really is no exaggeration to claim that Havasupai is one of the most beautiful locations in the entire world.

The top of Havasu Falls

Now that I'm sitting in a comfortable seat on a flight to Dublin the hike out almost seems insignificant, but I know at the time, between miles 3 and 9, it was the farthest 10 miles and highest 2500 feet I have ever hiked.  Every bone and muscle in my body was cursing me for what I put them through.  Fortunately for me, Phil did most of the drive home late into the night and I had just enough time to do some laundry and pack for Spain before my 7 AM flight.  It was a successful trip in every aspect and, this time anyway, it paid to have such an ambitious goal.  I can't think of any better place to have spent my last day and a half in the US. 

The sun set as we hiked out

Alone in the Superstition Wilderness

I was about a mile into Boulder Canyon Trail 103 when it hit me.  The sun was directly in the center of the deep blue sky, I had 3 days worth of camping supplies on my back, and I was already soaked in sweat but I stopped dead in my tracks.  I had 3 days worth of camping supplies - minus a lighter.  Freeze dried food galore and no way to cook it.  I muttered a curse word inside my head.  The first noticeable disadvantage to backpacking alone - not being able to rely on anyone else's memory.  The second - not having anyone to complain to about it. 







"Boulder Canyon Trail 103"



Canyon Lake - Where I started my Trail



Months ago I had decided to spend a few days in the wilderness when I got back to the States in order to process and reflect on my World Race.  I've spent many days, even weeks, in the wilderness but this time was going to be different than any other, this time I was alone.  I wasn't going to any it's-a-wilderness-if-you-pretend-it-is place either, I was going to the biggest, emptiest, most remote wilderness I knew of - the Superstition Mountains of Arizona.  A US government sanctioned wilderness area, the Superstition Wilderness is a maze of cactus, canyons, and peaks a little smaller than the state of Rhode Island, and nobody is allowed in except on foot.  For all I knew, I was the only person within 50 miles.  Six miles in I was watching a perfect sunset from a thousand-foot cliff listening to the eagles' rushing wings as they dove down to the most picturesque desert valley I had ever seen, the memories of my terrible memory nearly forgotten. 



Beautiful Dessert Valley






Some Kind of Bird Nest





After a fitful night of sleep on a popped sleeping pad inside a fallen hammock I was having trouble starting what I had come to do - reflect on and process my year abroad.  I have never been good at alone-time, which is why I never so much as watch a movie by myself, so I decided to read a little bit of Matthew instead.  I happened to start at the beginning of Jesus' ministry where, lo and behold, he spent 40 days fasting in the wilderness.  I was fasting (unintentionally) in the wilderness too!  I imagined Jesus hiking through the desert with his pack on his back, humming to himself and stopping every once in a while to admire a tarantula or an epic view of God's creation.  I bet he prayed a lot, climbed a few sweet boulders, and did some serious processing before he began his three years of ministry.  He probably tried to orient his mind and take an introspective step back to the basics and ask himself, "Why am I doing this, anyway?"  So that is what I asked myself, "Why did I do the World Race anyway?"



Noticed this guy as I set up camp - the biggest tarantula I've ever seen anywhere






Home Sweet Home





Having found a shadier, and more secure, location for my hammock, I reclined with my World Race notebook and browsed through the earlier pages trying to answer my question.  The answers I found were actually somewhat surprising to me and I collected a bulleted list:


Why did I do the World Race?
1. For a new "normal" - looking around for how to be a part of God's work instead of concentrating on myself
2. Because I am the hope for a world that needs Jesus
3. To pursue Jesus' mission - to bring good news to the poor, bind up the brokenhearted, proclaim liberty to the captives, etc…
4. To become selfless, especially in the small things
5. To grow in boldness and find identity in Jesus
6. To become a disciple, not just a believer


So if those were what I wanted to get out of the last year, was I successful?  Well, after thinking through the year I had to admit that while I was definitely headed in the right direction, it was only a small start.  While I did accomplish some of that due to the monumental characters of Faith that I met along the way and the nature of my work and my purpose, I think my vision started becoming a little bit foggy in the middle of it all.  I think I have a very long way to go before I reach any of those goals and some of them don't even have a conclusion. 






Isn't that neat?





I took a break to do some rock climbing and dip my dusty feet in the creek in order to soak in the melting hot sun before another frigid night overtook me.  Coming back, I read the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew.  Let God's  will be done, not yours; store up treasures in Heaven instead of on earth so that your heart is in the Kingdom; don't be anxious about food, water, clothes, or tomorrow for God will provide.  I suddenly felt more clear-headed and settled about not only the World Race, but my upcoming future than I ever had before. 






I actually did end up finding a match in my pack but it wouldn't light 





I prayed a short prayer and wrote it in my journal, "Dear God, Thank you for the World Race; for the people, adventure, learning, growth.  Thank you for the opportunity to share hope and be a light, to proclaim freedom and care for the needy.  Thank you for letting me be a part of what you are doing around the world.  Don't let me lose sight of the kingdom, of the reasons I was on the Race, help me continue to grow as a disciple of yours.  I love you, -Brant



Boulder Canyon - look closely on top of the cliff and you can see giant Saguaro Cactus






Good Night





I took up camp the next day full of energy and optimism.  My year was reviewed and I was ready to tackle my next adventure: G-42 in Spain.  I spoke aloud for the first time in three days, praying for all my friends around the world, and listened to the foreign noise echo in my ears.  Sometimes you have to take a physical journey in order to go on a spiritual journey, and sometimes, in order to process that journey, you have to take another journey; and sometimes it has to be done alone in the Superstition Wilderness.