The drive up the mountain had the excitement rushing through me; I felt like a kid again as I recognized the curves and the bends in the river!! The campground itself is about 45 minutes outside of the nearest town-- a small one with only one stop light. Slightly smaller than Emmitsburg, but cute. As we pulled into Indian Henry my excitement rose!! Memories flooded me as we passed different sites that we had camped at, time in and time out again.
We picked out a near perfect spot! Nicely secluded from the rest of the camp ground and perfectly situated near the river and the creek. It was spacious-- big enough for my brother's huge ten, our camper, and large space for the kids to play around (which came in handy, as the boys quickly made friends with two young kids from the next campsite over).
The boys and their friends spent many hours down at the creek. Oh the hours I myself have spent at that same creek!! Building dams in the water, my mom daring me to sit in the water (ice cold, definitely not swimming worthy!), jumping around rocks, trying to cross the creek without getting wet... Ah, the memories! It's a beautiful creek, the shades of green of the forest standing out against the clear, cold water. It leads down into the Clackamas, although it adds little to the already powerful river.
Most of the week was spent in a very relaxing manner. I did a lot of reading. I brought along with me a book that my goddaughter sent me some time last week. It's a novel about an older business woman, a widow, who leaves her quite successful career to enter the Benedictine Monastery of Brede-- it is simply a telling of her journey into the Benedictines, as well as an inside look of the community life. It's a long book (appropriately titled In this House of Brede by Rummer Godden), but it's definitely decent. The writer's style is somewhat unique, although I can't quite put my finger on it! Has to do with her (his?) use of punctuation, I think. Anyways, it's a decent novel. Reads well, although there are times at which I have to admit getting slightly bored. Usually I just take a break and I can come back to it alright. Definitely some interesting insights about community life that gave me pause to think. But more about that later.
Other camping activities included long walks on the trails (absolutely stunning forestry!), playing card games with my mom and sister-in-law, sitting around the camp-fire, napping... My sister-in-law is very much a sanguine and I think she brings out the choleric in me. Needless to say, our late-night games were a lot of fun!!
It was also so nice to be free from all technology. No lap tops, no cell phones, no e-mails, no facebook, nothing. What a wonderful respite!! Even if I had wanted to bring any of those with me, we were so far up in the mountain that it would've been impossible to use them. We even lacked a time-telling device. We woke up when we woke up and went to bed when we went to bed, with no regard to time, save by simple guessing according to the positioning of the sun and nightfall.
Each morning and evening I was able to steal away to the river for about half an hour. It was so peaceful. I would go down by myself and sit on "my" rock with my breviary. The view was so beautiful, especially at the times that I went down... Literally took my breath away at times. I'd pray Morning and Evening prayer in that spot, overlooking the river as flowed so viciously, bending around the corner and disappearing from sight. I've never been a huge "finding God in nature" type of person... but then again, I was never really a "finding God" anywhere sort of person. In all honesty, though, I felt the presence of God in a very unique way during these times of prayers. Very peaceful.
On Sunday I managed to convince my parents to let me take the car down into town (remember, a good 45 minutes drive from site) to go to Mass. I had looked the church up on masstimes.org and was hoping that the time (note: time, singular... they only offered one Mass) for Mass was accurate. It turned out to be quite accurate. The little parish was just that: little. It had maybe 10 or 12 rows of pews. It was an intriguing little church. I was welcomed in by the pastor, who stood at the entrance greeting everyone as they arrived. I must've clearly stood out as a visitor, since he asked me a few questions about who I was and where I was from.
The church itself was a mixture of modern and not so modern. The tabernacle was off to the side and was barely distinguishable from an everyday box. The lights were covered by plastic coverings imitating chandeliers. The stained-glass windows were hoakey and the entire place was white washed. Yet the crucifix was absolutely stunning! Beautifully carved in wood, likely wood from the very mountain on which this little church stood. There were also four or five beautiful icons all around the church, as well as a wonderful set of the Stations.
The community was a nice little community. Very fervent. There were maybe 40 folks at the Mass. A few older couples and a few families and that was it. I could only smile to myself when they began the opening hymn: All Are Welcome. This small congregation sang louder and with more heart than I've heard in any parish. Like I said, a very fervent and dedicated community.
Back in my day I may have stuck up my nose at a liturgy such as the one I attended. Terrible music, liturgical abuses galore, the crusade of inclusive language... Yet, I could not help but be touched by the fervor of this small little community. Oh, they most certainly love God!! I have more reflections about this little community but I'll save that for a later time.
On Sunday afternoon, the whole family went for a walk down the trails to Indian Henry Rock. It's a pretty big rock, couple hundred feet tall, and it's created quite the swimming hole in the water. A perfect swimming hole, actually. Yet no one swims in it because the temperature of the water is far too cold for swimming!! At least for any intelligible human being. But my golden retriever, Vegas, on the other hand...
Well, he was certainly tired after that exhibition. He somehow managed to steal my bed that night, including my covers. He jumped up there long before I came to bed and I couldn't get him off for the life of me. (I don't think he even could move, even for the life of him!) So I shared the bed with my dog... I had a small place to crawl into and very little covers... alas.
We left, grudgingly, on Monday afternoon. It was such a nice, relaxing time with my family. I really didn't want to leave. But it was well worth being jobless that I might be able to experience this five-day trip! Deo gratias!!
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