Storms. They’ve hit hard of recent. All over the world. Oftentimes in a rage I can’t even imagine.
The Calm After the Storm
#15 Escapades, Palisades, Cascades!
As I’ve written previously, the climate and landscape can change almost instantly when driving through these western states. Today was a perfect example.
We left our perfect campsite in Viento State Park (did you read my last post about perspective? Click here) and drove east along Interstate 84 for the last time, enjoying every moment: (Pause the website background music when viewing videos.)
We exited south at Hood River, onto Highway 35. We had previously stopped at the Walmart parking lot where I saw this view:
Yes, Mt. Adams, at over 12,000 feet, ruled the northern landscape. I was amazed to think of this view at one’s local Walmart! Certainly different than any Walmart parking lot view I’d ever encountered! Probably 40 miles north (by way the crow flies), this is the mountain we had observed throughout southernmost Washington before crossing the Columbia River into Oregon just a few days previous.
Mt. Adams also reigned in the downtown area of Hood River – one gorgeous town! Homes are set in hillsides along narrow streets. The downtown is inviting with some shops open to the street.
A day or two before, Ron and I had lunched outside one cute little coffeeshop – then had coffee outside another. I had decided I could live in this town – if I didn’t get “blown away” in the wind. Like every area in the gorge, this town is very windy. I spent my coffee time writing postcards to some of the grandchildren; the centerpiece on our outside lunch table was a bronze piece called Mama Bear. I knew, in reality, that I could never leave my Michigan kids, no matter how appealing this mountainous area might be! It’s the Mama Bear in me! But I certainly would love to spend a couple weeks exploring this town!
But today was our day to move on and head to the Oregon Coast. There was no “easy” route to the coast, except for Highway 84 directly west to Portland, but we didn’t want Portland, nor the busy interstates, so we chose a scenic route instead: the Mt. Hood Scenic Byway. And scenic it was – for awhile, that is.
As we drove south, we lost our views of Mt. Adams but gained views of magnificent Mt. Hood, over 11,000 feet high. It was within our sites for hours. (How many pictures of one mountain can a person take! ha-ha)
We turned on to U.S. 26, heading south, which took us away from the remainder of Mt. Hood Scenic Byway curving northwest to Portland. This directional and road change also created a landscape change, that of which I wrote at the beginning of this post: “the climate and landscape can change almost instantly when driving through these western states.”
Now we observed a different but equally striking view: Mt. Jefferson. Instead of appearing to be nestled in pines, as Mt. Hood had been, it stood beyond dry ground – miles and miles of dry, rocky surface – in all directions. Mt. Jefferson, in the next 100 miles, left our sights, as the dry ground became hammered into palisaded cliffs. As we travel, if I have cell coverage, I do a bit of research about the area we are traveling through. We are now in the middle of The Confederated Tribes of the War Springs Reservation of Oregon. (Click here to read more about this reservation.) 
I read that typically, the summers are not “hot” here, but today most definitely was. Hot. Over 100 degrees hot! My fears of pulling the travel trailer around curves above steep edges, in windy areas, and 6% grade descents on hot pavement quickly returned as we neared Warm Springs, Oregon. (Click here to read that previous post: #10 Mountain-Size Fear) Thus, I was quite relieved when we finally went through West Springs and Madras and turned west at Redmond. I had become accustomed to looking at the triangles on the map, indicating mountains, by this time having learned that the mountains and their passes surely meant sharp curves and a multitude of ascents and descents! This next route had plenty of both mountains and passes! I wondered what lie ahead between us and the coast. But I was pleasantly surprised.
We were passing through a stunning range of the Cascades, viewing not only Mt. Jefferson now, but Black Butte and Three-Fingered Jack to the north and Three Sisters and Mt. Washington to the south.
Pause the website music for the video. Use full screen, if possible:
Sage brush and rocky ground gave way to irrigated hay fields. Flat ground soon gave way to mountains. 
The mountains had one thing in common with the dry buttes we had traveled through earlier: evidence of wildfires. But in the wooded mountain range, the evidence remains for years. Burnt, charred trees and landscape revealed the large wildfires of 2007 and 2011 – and smaller ones as recent as a month before we traveled through.
(I hope you’re enjoying the background music on this site. )
I discovered that a pleasant drive through the Willamette National Forest lay ahead; Yes, it was filled with curves and ascents and descents, but each was surrounded by sunlit green forests – not steep cliffs dropping hundreds of feet beside me. This last stretch we covered today was Highway 20 – the same Highway 20 that runs 2000 miles east through Angola, Indiana, just a hop, skip, and a jump from our Michigan home. Once again, I find connection with the rest of this great country in which I live.
This scenic highway is called Over the River and Through the Woods Oregon Scenic Byway: 
Its very name denotes beauty, pleasant memories, a peaceful future. It is beautiful – this route through the wonderland of The Willamette National Forest. But my new life in Christ is even greater. It’s the byway that takes me home. And this new life – this beautiful route – can be yours , as well. Click here to learn about that new life in Christ.
Life is like today’s drive – always changing – bringing dry, rough patches – frightening ups and downs – but then times of refreshment.
We are battered and destroyed – often by our own choices. But our loving Father is waiting, desiring us to seek Him, wanting to restore us to Himself.
The burnt landscape is
– but a reminder of our lives before Christ
– or of the damage of our own destruction
– or the pain and grief the world has brought us.
The new growth arising through the rubbled ground and the freshness of the green, sunlit forests is
– the new life He offers us when we become Christians.
– Or for those of us who are Christians, it’s the restoration He brings when we turn back to Him after wandering. Or the comfort and peace He gives when we’ve been hurt by the world.
We must keep traveling forward:
. . . focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.
Philippians 3:13
Enjoy this short video:
Please contact me if I can minister to you – speak to your group. Click here.
#14 Adjust your sails, girl. Don’t pick at paradise.
It’s all in perspective.
Dictionary.com defines “perspective” as “the state of one’s ideas, the facts known to one, etc., in having a meaningful interrelationship . . .”
Previously, “the state of” my ideas were that one needed complete solitude to enjoy a campsite. Or at least close to solitude. A quiet, shady setting on a hot summer day would be best. That was the state of my idea. But my perspective changed. My ideas now were based upon this new and different perspective. I was now looking at the setting through the lens of my new “interrelationship” with the beautiful Columbia River Gorge, which I wrote about in my last post: (The Magic of Multnomah) So from this perspective, I was camping in the midst of a wonderland.
Where once I thought I could not sleep with the noise of a passing train whistling and roaring throughout the night, I unexpectedly quit noticing the roar of the trains and instead focused on the wonderland. I didn’t even need my pink earplugs I wrote about earlier. (Click here.)
Where once I thought I could not sleep with the noise of a major highway near (yes, the cars and semis ran just behind the Airstream travel trailer in the site next to us), I suddenly didn’t hear the noise and instead focused on the wonderland.
It’s all in perspective.
An enlightened perspective sometimes brings great joy! As it did to me at Site 33, Viento State Park along the Columbia River (and along the train tracks, and Highway30 . . . 
ha-ha!)
I don’t think I need to explain it. The videos and photos reveal it: my new perspective!
It brought joy.
Give it a try! You’ll see things quite differently.
(If the background music on the website is playing, please scroll down and pause it while watching the two videos below. Enlarge video to full screen, if you can!:)
Click here to see my next post, #15 Escapades, Palisades, Cascades
#13 The Magic of Multnomah
Gorge. The very word has an ugly connotation. but this place is anything and everything but!
It is magical. Mystical. Enchanting. Refreshing.
I thought I was prepared for its splendor, but I wasn’t.
Weeks before we left Michigan on this adventure, I had second thoughts about the whole long trip. Far away from the kids. What if something happened? 32 days is a long time. I had anxiety. Then something happened that gave me peace. It was a photo – a photo of the most beautiful waterfall ever – in my opinion. 
I had seen this photo often throughout the past few years, mostly online but had no idea where it was located. And so I judged it: the most beautiful waterfall ever. I never even considered I would ever see it. Researching the Columbia River Gorge we were to visit on this trip, I suddenly discovered this magnificent waterfall to be in the area. I was so touched to learn this, I choked up and whispered, Thank you, Lord. Now I knew it was His will we take this lengthy journey. I knew He was blessing me. I had peace.
Isn’t it just like our Abba Father to give us the desires of our heart? Even the things we never asked for! And, in doing so, confirming His blessing upon us?
I had two overnights scheduled for us at the Viento State Park, along the Columbia River, but some way I maneuvered a third overnight at the state park, and we scheduled our days carefully. The first site we would visit would be Multnomah Falls. We drove just a short distance to the six mile trail of waterfalls along the Historic route.
We were driving through a mystical, magical wonderland of massive trees, vibrant greens, and brilliant filtering sunlight.
Finding a parking space near Multnomah Falls was challenging, as the lot is quite small. We learned that the state would require advance passes beginning the next month. This was further evidence of God’s blessing upon us this day. It was our time.
This area, and especially Multnomah Falls itself, appears to be the landscape from Middle Earth. When one climbs to the bridge spanning the falls, one expects Tolkein’s elves, Aragorn and Arwen, to be standing there, conversing – to look at us and say, Come, join us. The bridge, the 611-foot-tall waterfall, and the lush green walls of the mountainside are mirror images of Rivendell.
(Open to full screen, if you can:)
I was simply enchanted. The cool spray of water refreshed my face from this and other waterfalls we would visit on this day. I closed my eyes and went back in time. The moss on the rocks and trees and fallen logs was reminiscent of that on the stepping stones leading to a water fountain in my Grandma Nutt’s rock garden. I find connection in the small and the large details throughout my life, demonstrating the same creator – the One True God. He uses both the minor and the magnificent to reveal Himself to us. The past memory was over 50 years ago and over 2000 miles away; God shows me today that He was in my presence then and He is present now. He is ever with me. Because I am His child.
Wahkeenah Falls, Bridal Veil Falls, Latourell Falls, and Horsetail Falls. We went from one falls to another, climbing to the brink and hiking the stream of bedrock below. Our day was spent in exploring something like a Shangri-la. I spread a cloth over the thick gray, moss-covered wood of a picnic table, where we lunched in the shade of tall pines and oaks. The trails occasionally took us to overlooks of the River beyond.
Open to full screen, if you can:
As magnificent as Multnomah Falls is, and as beautiful as the other waterfalls are, the last one we visited, Shepperd’s Dell Waterfall was the most meaningful to Ron and me. I’ll explain the reason.
The Shepperd’s Dell website explains,
“We owe our thanks to a modest farmer who gave us his “dell.” George Shepperd was a transplanted Canadian farmer who moved his family to the Gorge in the 1880s, settling on a 160-acre land claim along Young Creek, just west of the mill town of Bridal Veil. He supported his family by farming, dairying and working at the nearby Bridal Veil Lumber Mill.
“In the early 1900s, HCRH engineer and designer Samuel Lancaster began surveying a possible highway route through the Gorge. Travel in the Gorge at that time was mostly by train, and the Shepperd farm was one of the many stops along the route. . . George was described as an early supporter of the highway, and this is surely the time when he realized that he could be part of Lancaster’s grand vision.
“Newspaper accounts show that Shepperd had many opportunities to sell his property for substantial profit, as the new highway was quickly dotted with roadhouses and gift shops aimed at the new stream of tourists. The Oregonian later reported: “ever since the highway was constructed, Mr. Shepperd has received offers to purchase the tract, but has refused them, having in mind an intention to dedicate the property to the use of the public.” In March 1914, George Shepperd’s land was donated to the public.”
So, here is a man who thought of others above himself. But greater yet, a placard at the sight told us that Shepperd and his family came to the waterfall on their property to worship. To worship! So that’s just what Ron and I did that day – at that last waterfall. We worshipped God. It was a blessed time.
Following are photos of Shepperd’s Dell Waterfall and the beautiful bridge and walkway leading to it. Notice the moss!
Ron and I love shady forests with the sunlight streaming down from above. We love streams and rivers and waterfalls. We love being in the quiet woods away from the noise of highways. We love listening to the birds. And I love green moss!
You might cherish other things in nature: certain animals, the atmosphere, the heights of the mountains or the depths of the valleys. The smell of freshly mown hay or of a rose in your garden. Perhaps you love the busyness and noise of the city, the whistle of the train, or the roar of race cars.
How does God reveal Himself to you? Speak to you? Give you evidence of His presence?
He is always present and He cares for you. He wants to meet the longings of your heart. He desires communion with us. Sometimes it’s a massive revelation; sometimes it’s tiny – like green moss.
Look for Him. Listen for Him. He’s there! Find your spot and worship!
Before you leave my wonderland, join me in the woods. I’m quite sure I saw Aragorn and Arwen flitting across the rocks along this stream:
You’ll find all the Adventure Travel posts in the “Home Sweet Home” Tab of this website.
Here’s a link to the first. At the bottom of each post, you’ll find a link to the next. Subscribe and look for a new post tomorrow in your email.
Click here to read the next Post – #14 “Adjust your sails, girl . . ”
#12 Into the Gorge
Oh my word – Mt. Rainier was beautiful to view much of the way from Yakima, Washington, south to the Columbia River Gorge. 
First, Rainier was the backdrop of acres of fruit. How appropriate, for as we traveled, we munched on deep red sweet cherries from the area. Never so fresh!
Then Rainier stood white-capped and massive behind green fields of hay; farmers were cutting and raking as we drove on. 
Soon we discovered corn fields, which we hadn’t seen this far west since Minnesota.
At a later point, we viewed both Mts. Adams and Rainier at the same time. How very beautiful! Their peaks were covered in snow, and it was somehow physically refreshing to look westward toward them, as this day was extremely hot and dry. 
Eventually, most of the green farmland gave way to hot, dry field and rolling hills, colorless other than a few small trees that can root in the rock.
We stopped high upon a butte to look out over the valley below. Unlike the Wenatchee Valley, this valley was hot and dry and brown, yet it was beautiful. Green fields evidenced ingenuity of the farmers in the area. It was not my favorite kind of landscape or climate, yet I loved it for God’s people were in the land and worked the land. This land had resources and purpose, just as all His creation does.
Soon we saw an unwelcomed site in this wind-whipped land: smoke. As we neared, we saw the blackened buttes to the east and helicopters dropping bags of water upon the earth below: 
We drove past the smoke today, but in days to come smoke from fires such as this would fill the skies around us and traces would penetrate our lungs, as well.
Finally the blue water and green steeps around the Columbia River Gorge came into view. 
It was a welcomed sight. 
We followed the river westward on the Washington side, high upon the edge of the buttes for miles and miles before we descended and crossed the bridge near Hood River.
We said goodbye to Washington and hello to Oregon. It seemed a different land – green and cool. But it was still windy – very windy!
The next days in the Columbia River Gorge were refreshing – like living in a magical land!
Click here to read the next post: The Magic of Multnomah! https://kathiwaligora.com/13-the-magic-of-multnomah/
Have you read my other posts from this trip? Click here to Start with #1 – The North Begins at Clare
#11 As Far West As We Go on Highway 2
While visiting Glacier, we had spent three nights at a peaceful campground in Kalispell – Rocky Mountain High.
It was a perfect country setting with the beautiful Swan Mountain Range in the background. We slept with our windows open, breathing fresh pine air, the large trees above then shading our trailer during the day.
We’ve had sunshine nearly every day of our trip thus far, and today was no different. As we readied ourselves and prepared the trailer to leave the site, our neighbors, Barry and Linda, held our hands and prayed for a safe journey for us. The body of Christ is ever present on our journey.
We continued our venture on Highway 2, which we had followed now through five states and would continue well into the sixth state before this nightfall. 
Western Montana did not disappoint. It was all we had expected with green forests and beautiful lakes surrounded by tall pines. 
Ranches with occasional fields of hay to feed the livestock, dotted our paved trail.
Further west, the Kootenai River came along beside us and flowed beautifully beside us as we entered Idaho. At Bonners Ferry, we separated ways with the river – it flowed north, while we drove south through Spokane and on into Washington.
Certainly the landscape murals changed. Sage brush dappled the otherwise barren land. Soon we drove around brown mountains speckled with small pines that had managed to grow in the dry rocky surfaces. 
We ascended and descended these parched mountains and the twists and turns of their ups and downs, and of the curves I had come to hate and fear, which were impossible to escape, so I gritted my teeth and clenched the arm rest beside me until we finally descended into a beautiful green valley – the town of Wenatchee, Washington, the “Apple Capital of the World.” 
It was a breath of fresh air after hours of driving through a desolate area.
Not only was the valley below filled with orchards, but the mountain walls surrounding the valley were, as well. And not just with apple orchards but with all kinds of fruit.
The inviting Wenatchee River flowed through the valley, and that night, we camped near the river at the County Park. 
If there’s one thing I’ve discovered during this trip it’s that the landscape and road conditions can change within a mile’s drive! And that’s what happened when we left the valley and parted ways with Highway 2, our old original, on which we had driven over 2000 miles in the last ten days!
Leaving the beautiful Wenatchee Valley, we turned south on US Highway 97. The road ascended as quickly as the gas prices! Now the mountains were green and fertile with wild plants, natural trees, and living creatures.
And a short distance further south, the scenery changed yet again!
The windy, hot, dry climate, typical of this area of Washington surrounded us. Although 100 degrees, when we stopped for gas, we noticed how much cooler it seemed than 100 degrees. Now we know what people mean when they say its a dry heat. 
Nonetheless, we were in a desert, so our plans to “boondock” overnight needed to change. I called ahead to Yakima and booked us a site. It was one of the strangest we’ve ever had – such tight quarters in the middle of a large city, next to an RV storage lot. But we had electric and the AC we needed thanks to Site #40! 
Click here to read the next Post, #12 Into the Gorge
Have you read the series of posts from our Trip West? Click here to start with #1 The North Begins at Clare. A link at the bottom of each post takes you to the next!
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#9 A Day in the Park
“How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!” ~ John Muir
The sun gave us a glorious greeting the morning we drove into Glacier National Park. I had cried when I first saw the mountains from the distance yesterday; I cried when we drove Highway 2 around the south side of the huge park; and I cried when we entered the park this morning. All cries of delight.
#8 Trains are Everywhere!
The mountains are calling and I must go.
~ John Muir
July 6
Last night had been one of those nights that when traveling RV, you sometimes plan – or they sometimes just suddenly occur – where you must sleep somewhere other than a designated campsite. If you read yesterday’s post, you know that we suddenly uprooted ourselves from Lewis & Clark State Park in North Dakota and headed west into Montana early in the evening. I looked at the map, of course, and searched my Map app, but the Montana map doesn’t identify Rest Areas quite like our Michigan map does. So, after driving a distance, and uncertain how far the next Rest Area might be, we pulled over to one in Culbertson, Montana, a quiet burg, and yes, there was a train track running behind it! Trains are everywhere in our travels! (See my post, My Pink Earplugs)
Nonetheless, we drove around the small parking area a couple of times to find the most level ground, had our supper, and settled in. It had been hot that day – the day we left Lewis & Clark State Park and had our window replaced in Williston. Very hot. And we were concerned about sleeping in the heat through the night, but these are the times one is thankful for the constant wind of the Northern Plains. In the quiet of the evening, a car occasionally pulled into the rest stop. One semi was parked a short distance away, and an old man slowly got out of a white pickup by the restrooms. I watched as he hobbled, bent and slow going, emptying trash bins, going in and out of the restrooms, and packing the huge black garbage bags into the bed of his pickup truck. Again, I made assumptions as I observed. Most likely, his social security was not enough to live on. He either needed the county or state job to make ends meet, or he wanted the job – just to keep those legs and arms nimble. I observed stamina, although I could not truly see the expression on his face. He was a hard-working American, I knew that.
We had entered a different time zone again, and although it was about 10 pm there, it felt like Michigan’s 8 pm to us. Wind whipped our little trailer. I assumed it would simply “rock me to sleep,” and it did, but when I awoke later, the strong wind had decreased, the trailer was still. The pleasant, almost cool, dry breeze passed between the open windows on each side of our bed, and it was refreshing.
When we’re without electricity, I heat water on the gas stove, and Ron makes French Press for us, so our morning routine continues! We were on the road at 7:30, and it was pleasant driving at 65°. We soon realized why Montana is called Big Sky. Oh yes, it is. One Big Sky from north to south and from east to west. Small towns dotted the otherwise desolate highway, and each had at least one junkyard. Not only were junkyards found in the stops along the way but also in wayside fields. Cars, tractors, farm machinery – rusting and surrounded with weeds. Run-down homesteads – mostly trailers. Those who lived along this stretch of Highway 2 were not the farmers. 
The farms were set back – on side roads that seemed unconnected to Highway 2.
Farmers raised one crop: wheat. Both spring and winter wheat were mixed in the fields. It was a whisker wheat, Ron said.
Railroad tracks ran parallel to Highway 2 much of the way. These trains were often pulling oil tankers.
The Buttes still lined the north and south horizons, but now, they also lined the west – where I was gazing, all throughout the morning, anxious for my first look of the mountains. The day was overcast. The west horizon was hazy. Finally, it came. Not the buttes, nor plateaus, but the mountains! And we saw them beyond a run-down homestead. 
But they had a beautiful view of the mountains! America is a land of opportunity!
We entered the small town of Browning. It was not what I expected. Galvanized sided buildings were damaged from neglect. This city on the east side of the beautiful mountain range should be thriving, but it didn’t seem to be. Only the cultural center was beautiful. I saw many first nation people. I felt badly that they live in a broken down atmosphere, one in which their ancestors had flourished. 
We entered the southern border of the park on Highway 2 through East Glacier. 
It was beautiful – even on this overcast day.
If the mountains outside this park are this magnificent, we could only imagine what lay ahead for us tomorrow, when we would enter the park and drive its steeps, its passes, and down into its valleys.
We stopped for lunch at a wayside monument at Marias Pass. The tall cement monument had been built to honor Teddy Roosevelt, but the bronze statue was the key point of this wayside. It was to honor a man named John F. Stevens who had surveyed this land for a railroad, far before any highway crossed it. Interesting indeed, and Ron and I were reminded of all those who came before us in this great land and the tremendous work they completed.
Now, it might just seem a little thing to you, but . . . We stepped into our little trailer to have lunch, and while we ate, it rained. Cars pulled in to the wayside. People stepped out, in the rain, covered with hoodies or ponchos – or not. They read the 4 placards placed at the sight, and they moved on. As a tourist, you tour – rain or shine! But when we finished our lunch and went across the parking lot to read the tributes and observe the train tracks, the rain had stopped. It was just another tidbit of confirmation that we were right where and when God wanted us to be.
Of course, one or two trains passed while we were there! Trains are everywhere in this part of the country!
#7 Prairie Grasses Have Purpose and Deep Roots
“In nature we never see anything isolated, but everything in connection with something else which is before it, beside it, under it and over it.” ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Yes, all of nature is connected and has purpose. As we headed west from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula via Hwy 2, a fellow RV’er advised us not to bother driving through North Dakota and Montana – said it was boring with no striking views, but Ron and I like to make the connections. We appreciate it all. (Well, most of it anyway!) 
We found the Northern Prairie to be remarkable. And even their prairie grasses have purpose.
In the 1920’s and 30’s, evidently the farmers didn’t realize the importance of keeping those grasses throughout their land. They wanted to plant grains such as wheat and oats instead. When drought occurred, as it often does, dust storms blew the agriculture away. The soil was eroded. Until the rains came around 1939 and dryland farming methods were applied, this beautiful land was useless. 
Families starved. The prairie dust caused breathing illnesses, such as asthma, bronchitis, and silicosis.
(The root system of prairie grass compared to the root system of agriculture.)
What the farmers didn’t realize was that the prairie grasses had tremendous root systems. The soil in which they grew could not erode. The person rooted in Christ is the same. The Bible tells us that if our roots are holy, our branches are, as well. The roots support us. Jesus said that if a man has no root, he lasts only a short time. When problems come, the worries of life, and the deceit of wealth (notice that phrase the Lord uses) comes, we’re lost in the winds. We quickly fall away, the Lord teaches in his parable of the sower. Have you seen a person quickly fall away? Or has it happened to you? It happens when we’re not rooted.
Oh, how I need to be rooted in Christ in this world. It’s so easy to fall away, and I don’t want that to happen. The Apostle Paul tells us that “just as we have received Christ Jesus as Lord,” we need to continue to live in him, to be rooted and built up in Him, to be strengthened in our faith as we were taught, and to overflow with thankfulness.
He continues to warn us about those things that will diminish our roots in Christ: deceptive philosophy (we see/hear a lot of that these days) and practices that are based on human tradition rather than on the actual teachings of Christ.
Jesus ends the parable by telling us how our roots can go deep: it’s by hearing the Word and by accepting it.
The winds of these Northern Plains through which Ron and I are traveling are strong. They’ve whipped our trailer as we drive through and rocked it when it’s at a standstill. They blow the papers from our picnic tables and mess my hair every time I step outside. But in doing so, they remind us of the deception the world brings – because of Satan, our enemy – but that we’ll stand just fine in that wind, as long as we’re rooted in Christ Jesus.
Further reading: Mark 4:1-20; Matthew 13:21; Romans 11:16; Colossians 2:7 . . .
#6 Lewis & Clark, Sacajawea, and a man named Josh
Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.
~ John Muir
July 5
We hiked and drove through this park, learning more about the flora and fauna at the present time and that recorded by Lewis & Clark in 1806 during their expedition. (The photo shows a petrified tree stump from long before Lewis & Clark visited the area!) 
We tried to imagine the buffalo that once roamed the grassy areas in these Buttes, long before a single oil well was drilled here.
The wind whips through this part of the country – the Northern Great Plains. It is constant. Today it brings relief from the present heat wave.
This is different country than we are used to, but we are captivated by it and interested to learn more about it. 
We actually paused for a few moments today with a cup of coffee, but later . . .
Every day brings something unexpected to this trip. Today’s unexpected occurrence was simply shattering!
While preparing our lunch, I opened the sliding panel of the window above our table, and it shattered with a crash, both inside and out of the trailer.
We stood in instant shock – then thankfulness for safety glass and no injury to me – then prayer, asking God to take care of this problem for us! We were over 1500 miles and 6 days into this cross-country trip, and in the “middle of nowhere” on the day following a holiday weekend. What would we do? Phone calls and clean up came next. The park’s maintenance enormous Shop Vac was a God-send, and although every RV Repair shop and nearly every Auto Glass Repair was closed on this Monday, one man, who owned an auto glass center in Williston, answered his phone and offered a solution. We closed up and packed up and broke camp a day early, met this man, Josh, at his shop in Williston, which happened to be 20 miles in the very direction we were to travel, and he provided his expertise of a secure temporary window, which will hopefully get us through our trip! Again, Abba Father provides. He says His purpose will stand, and He “will use a bird or a man from a far-off land” to fulfill that purpose. Today He used a man named Josh. Ron and Kathi do not venture alone!
See Isaiah 46 for this promise from the Father. Pray this promise for yourself!