Blog: Beginning Adjustments

Hello!

I am so blessed with so many things: things are going well for work--I have a great mentor who is walking me through the process of learning management skills, and if all goes well I may become a candidate to run a park store all by myself next summer if I don't become a park ranger by then. For now though, I've been doing some extra reading and study on the side to help improve my skills.

Beyond this, with school finished, I've been taking a lot of time doing some online courses continuing to improve my education towards becoming an interpretive park ranger. This has been a lot of learning, but it has helped me greatly in learning how to connect with people and understand how to make presentations in ways that are inspiring, relevant, and connective. This has also taught me a lot towards how I can better minister to others as many of the principles in interpretive speaking carry over to how I can help people make spiritual connections within a physical world too. That said, this has taken up a lot of time.

In the midst of this, there is also daily leisure readings--starting to crack open all those books that have been sitting on the shelf for all these years of school. It's so great to finally get to delve into these books and absorb their words. Then there's the community I am now a part of--as I approach my first month here in Yellowstone, I am getting acquainted with the crew here at the Upper Old Faithful General Store. This is such a great group of people. I am getting to swap a lot of stories and laughs with everyone. More people are arriving soon which will help us, as we've been short-staffed since the start of the season. It's a lot of work trying to help all of our customers during this stage of the season. Getting more employees will be helpful, and it will mean more people to spend time with.

On top of this, there's also exploring the park and practicing my photography!

In the midst of all this, I keep wondering to myself: how am I going to make sure there's enough time for my weekly blog postings? It's normal for writers to discipline themselves to daily periods of writing and writing development. There are regular deadlines to meet. This is normal, but I fear that right now as I am leaving school behind, there are a few other priorities that I have been focusing on towards developing a practical career in the midst of pursuing my ultimate goal of writing.

When I started my blog for the season, I recognized that this blog will also be transitioning as I attempt to develop it into something much more than simply a weekly report on my travel activity, with hopefully a spiritual application for the week. I am realizing that I am in a stage of personal development in which those lessons I am learning are not fully developed to present as a completed post. I am wanting to write, revise, learn, and add perspective in order to present those stories and messages that really resonate with others. Such attempts require time and patience.

So for now, I have come to the decision that I'm going to back away from my weekly reports on this blog, posting every second week instead, allowing time for me to practice writing a lot more and much more revision than I currently allow. I still intend to continue this blog, but during this transition, I ask for your flexibility so that I can develop this blog into its next stage. Through prayer and submitting this to God, I hope that this move will help this blog to advance and become a richer blessing to my readers.

Thank you for your listening ear and your support. I look forward to many more posts ahead.

The Inner Art of Photography

Hello!

As glamorous as photography seems to be, and as simple as it seems to point-and-shoot, photography is far more an inward art than a digital product. Photography rides on being open and prepared for the “perfect moment”. The more I learn about photography, the more difficult it seems to find such moments. I used to be happy taking photos in the middle of the day, until I came to learn that low light really seems to accentuate the picture with depth and contrast; now getting up early or staying up late for photographs is normal. I used to be happy photographing a scene during a cloudless sunset, until I discovered that clouds can give a picture prominence. Additional lessons I’ve faced include framing and angle, colors, focus, lighting, speed, and much more. It seems that what used to be a simple camera click has transformed into a smorgasbord of components, settings, and opportunities that must be somehow aligned in order to actually capture that “perfect picture”. 

Setup for Old Faithful Geyser (If the geyser would only erupt!)

This lesson has been really standing out to me this week. For two days in a row I have been set up for the perfect picture: I arrived early to take a few test photos to ensure I wouldn’t miss the perfect moment. The first night, I had hiked to Observation Point for a birds-eye view of Old Faithful at sunset. The second night, I spent my evening poised near Riverside Geyser for another perfect photo at sunset. Only one problem: both geysers erupted ten minutes after sunset! 

Old Faithful Geyser from Observation Point, ten minutes after sunset

No matter how much I wished things happen the way I plan, nor how much preparation I do to capture the perfect photo, there is so much of photography that is beyond my control. No matter how much I learn about it or spend time scoping out locations, control will always be beyond my grasp. 

Setup for Riverside Geyser (If the geyser would only erupt!)

During my days off, I visited Grand Teton National Park just south of Yellowstone. My plan was to capture some scenes before the snow receded up the mountains. In the midst of my explorations though, my photography waned as several thunderstorms rolled through, obstructing the mountains and blighting my idea of capturing great moments. For several hours I sat in my car reading my book while a heavy rain enveloped the car, enjoying the delightful pitter-patter upon the windshield. As my hopes of capturing the perfect moment waned, I decided to instead spend my time in prayer and silence—thanking God for the opportunity to enjoy such beauty even though it would not be captured by the camera. 

Riverside Geyser, ten minutes after sunset

As the afternoon sun set over the mountains, I was positioned directly across from these jagged peaks enjoying my time. To the north, clear skies were turning into beautiful accents of low light, and to the south thunderhead clouds were beginning to turn pink. Either direction held beautiful light, but where I sat, a large, dark cloud obstructed the view. Chasing the sun in another direction would take too long. Instead, I sat watching the scene in gratitude despite my disappointment. 

As the sun dropped behind the mountains, the clouds were illuminated by its light, transforming a mundane scene into a majestic panorama! I was breathless witnessing this beauty as luminous clouds wrapped around the peaks of the Tetons and then unfurl in glorious color. 

Grand Teton Sunset

The next morning I awoke at 4:00 AM after a short night filled with a thunderstorm. With such a storm passing through, it was likely that these clouds would block the sunrise. Nevertheless, I started to drive, hoping to find a good spot to capture the sunrise…if there was a sunrise at all. I sat on the shore of Jackson Lake, and to my astonishment, the passing storm muted the sunrise, but in its place, I watched the most beautiful sunrise unfold before me. I was caught up in wonder and praise. Like my high school choir used to sing, “How can I keep from singing?”

Grand Teton Sunrise over Jackson Lake

No matter how much equipment a photographer has, no matter what sort of techniques the s/he has mastered, and no matter how well Photoshop can edit unwanted flaws, a photographer remains at the mercy of her/his surroundings. Devotion to the art keeps driving the photographer out of bed to set up for another sunrise, but it is the ability to release control over the scene that makes photography a spiritual experience to me. It is my privilege to show up and witness God as He takes a scene and makes something beautiful of it.

The Power of Resurrection

Hello!

One of the greatest delights of time is being able to watch something progress. Even when something might not be noticeable on a daily basis, over a span of time, those minute adjustments that occur daily and hourly compound into significant changes. This was my experience this past week.

Bison at Gibbon River

I can remember the first time I ever walked through Mammoth Hot Springs. It was three summers ago, and I nearly wept. After reading numerous books that depicted this hill of collective hot springs in terraces of orange, yellow, and white, I discovered the majority of these springs to have dried up, leaving its grey terraces to be trampled by herds of elk and bison. Finding the hillside grey and scarred was jarring; all that remained were a few hot springs that showed signs of receding water. This was confirmed the following year when I returned to Mammoth; of all the remaining hot springs, many of them were in recession with ash-white terraces like sepulchers. It seemed as though after centuries of prominence and fame, I was witnessing Mammoth’s demise. 

Palette Spring 

(The ash white are dried terraces)

My first visit to Mammoth this year was met with delight. Several springs that were in recession were slowly improving. This was a great encouragement to me, as I was not prepared to watch mammoth die completely. As I walked the hill of former hot springs, little had changed: broken terraces were strewn across the hill, beaten down by migrating herds. As I had followed the progress of this hill for four years now, the signs of decay were no longer shocking. 

Mound Spring (Former Mound Spring behind)

Despite all the discouragement, there was a small glimmer of hope. Three years ago there was a new hot spring called Mound Spring. Geologists explained that the former Mound Spring, which had dried up, had created a new channel in a low niche off of the former giant. I reckoned the new Mound Spring with a slight degree of disdain, as this was evidence that the former hot spring would never be able to regain its former glory. It was a leech that drained the life supply of its predecessor. While the former mound had developed a system of terraces and channels, the new hot spring held little definition beyond the thermal bacteria growing in its stream. The following year, the spring was developing some basic terraces, but it remained primarily a stream of thermal water. 

New Mound Spring Terrace

As I ventured further up the terraces to where Mound Spring is located, I rounded a corner to discover that over the past three years, the new Mound Spring has matured into a glowing series of cascading terraces and pools, colored in yellows, reds, oranges, whites, and even some green—not from algae, but from thermal bacteria! Though surrounded by decay, here was a spring that overcame its surrounding death and was thriving. It was such a majestic sight that I spent nearly half an hour staring at it, projecting how the entire hill might look like what this small spring reflected.

Angel Terrace

It is amazing how something small and progressively slow affects me. Three summers ago, I was crushed at the widespread death that had swallowed up Mammoth Hot Springs. The following year, I reported that the springs had receded even further, following the processes of nature. In a situation where the facts of life indicated that the glory days of the hot springs were lingering, I determined that I would cherish the little that remained, but inwardly I would still yearn to have seen it in its fullness. The only power that is more incredible than life is resurrection—reversing the natural progression of decay, brokenness, and death to bring life, healing and renewal to places where hope was lost. I have experienced this personally through the gift of Jesus Christ, and have witnessed it in multitudes of friends and family—ways I have come to regularly expect—but to see this happen within the realms of God’s natural world, where I do not expect this—only heightens my hope in God’s ability to restore all things and make all things new again.

Bright New Horizons

Hello!

Final exams are complete. The last paper submitted. The graduation stage crossed. 

It seems so unusual to finally be finished with my college work. The past seven years of my life, like a chapter in a book, are finished and I am pressing on into what this story holds. I am stepping out into something both old and yet new. As this is my seventh summer employed in the national parks, I am stepping into an arena that has become very familiar to me. This year I am employed at Yellowstone National Park working at the Old Faithful General Store. I have worked here for two summers before (2011 and 2012). Returning, I have reunited with some good friends from years past, and am reacquainting myself with the cyclic rhythms of Old Faithful’s eruptions, each one sending a new wave of tourists and shoppers to our store. 

Old Faithful

I have arrived earlier than previous years, and I am delightfully surrounded by snow. Nearly each day has held a new snowstorm that has blanketed the ground and melting quickly afterwards. Each day the snow recedes, urging me to capture these pristine moments before they thaw and the landscape transforms into summer. Despite the snowfall and wetness, my lips are still dried and cracked from the low humidity of this place. I already miss the greenness of the Willamette Valley, yet with only a short walk from my dormitory, the wilderness greets me with the excitement and attraction of its nearby geysers. Hardly a day has passed that has not been spent exploring these gems—each one a familiar sight to me, yet always astounding and humbling. I am overwhelmed by the intricacy of God’s creation as even the smallest detail lures me into prayer and contemplating the mystery of the One who would create such a place. 

Firehole River

In the midst of the old and familiar, this summer marks many new milestones and new opportunities. For starters, I am employed as an assistant manager—basically a manager-in-training. Upon the successful completion of this summer, this can open up new management opportunities in successive years in the national parks. I am entering a new level within the national park concessionaires. There is a lot to learn in the process though. I am already doing a lot of homework reading through the manager’s binder and being trained in all departments. There is much to learn, and this has been exciting and challenging for me. In addition to this, this is my first summer not volunteering to minister with A Christian Ministry in the National Parks (ACMNP). The purpose was twofold: as I now must follow jobs according to their availability, I have to remain flexible towards my ministry commitments. Furthermore, I am now pursuing a career with the National Park Service (NPS) with the hopes of becoming a park ranger. As I have volunteered for ACMNP over the past six years, I haven’t been able to pursue a park ranger position yet, and need to build my qualifications. So this summer I am trying to become a volunteer ranger and develop my qualifications. 

Crested Pool

Finally, this summer marks a new page towards my hopes of entering ministry as a writer. Without the presence of summer studies, I have been released to direct my energies towards practicing and developing my writing and photography skills. I am fresh to this sphere, so it will take some diligence and commitment to regularly practice. This summer also opens the opportunity for greater practice in spiritual disciplines in wilderness settings, learning to be still, listen, serve, and learn. Already I am seeing that such an ambition must be devotedly pursued; otherwise it will become consumed by distractions. Yet in the midst of this, I am praying that God will guide and teach me so that I can follow Him wholeheartedly in the journey ahead. 

Clepsydra Geyser

There is a lot of exploration to be done in the months and years ahead—both physically and spiritually. I am excited to launch into this summer participating in this journey of faith and learning. 

As this is a period of transition for me, this is also a time of transition for “Tobyn’s Travels”. As I start developing my writing skills, I am reimagining what this blog might transform into. Hopefully in the weeks to come you will begin to see this blog develop and transition as well. During this process, please feel free to contribute your thoughts towards this process, noting elements that are helpful, enjoyable, confusing, or bland. Part of this process is to learn from you, my readers, as much as I hope to share this journey with you—sending you messages and pictures of inspiration.

Old Faithful Inn

Blessings to you in the summer ahead! I look forward to sharing the journey and trail together.

Tobyn

Day 185: A House Built on Sand...Stone

Hello!

Six months ago, I finished packing my final things into the Subaru and started away from Newberg on this summer adventure. Today, six months later, I am preparing for my final few days here at Lake Powell. It's hard to believe this half-year has passed already, yet I have been anticipating this with great excitement. So many memories created during the summer, so many friendships made, the ministry team did so well in starting the ministry here at Lake Powell, yet so many things to look forward to.

As one of my final adventures, I got to take a Hummer Adventure tour to a slot canyon. It is an exclusive slot canyon in which there were only six of us exploring and photographing the canyon for over two hours. I felt so spoiled as this canyon held so many beautiful features, light beams, and array of colors. Usually when I am photographing these slot canyons, the colors lean towards the warm colors of red, orange, and yellow. Occasionally I'll get some purple in the picture, but this time, I got some blue! This took me by surprise how rich this color was, but as my cover photo shows, it was a wondrous moment.

As our tour guide took us to the canyon, he described the nature of Navajo Sandstone. Imagine a desert larger than the Sahara desert with sand dunes rising several thousand feet. It would be sand so incredibly thick that it compressed itself into layers of rock. The entire Colorado Plateau consists almost entirely of various layers of sandstone.

Sandstone has a strange characteristic to it. Around Page, it usually takes centuries, even thousands of years, to erode and shape Navajo Sandstone into the beautiful, yet seemingly delicate shapes of these slot canyons. While sandstone holds resilience in its durability, also has a soft side, allowing water to permeate its layers. Breaking off a chunk of sandstone, you can crumble it in your hands and it turns back into sand. During this summer I think I've come up with the perfect description of sandstone: petrified sand--it lasts for thousands of years, but is fragile like an antique.

We had a reminder of this dual nature of sandstone this past week when our recent rains caused a flash flood in Bridge Canyon--the canyon where Rainbow Bridge is located. This flash flood ripped out the hiking trail, leaving a 21-foot vertical cliff. The runoff from the flash flood was deposited in the lake at the boat docks, compromising the docks. Where the dock areas was in deep water, silt, mud, and sand filled the area.

As the driver took the Hummer by mesas, spires, and cliffs, I considered Jesus' words that whoever takes His words and does them is like a man who built his house on the rock--when the rains came and floods rose, the house stood firm. The one who didn't heed His words was like a man who built his house on sand. The rains came, the floods rose, and the house collapsed. This parable makes a lot of sense coming from Oregon, where sand is loose and unstable and rock is solid and unmovable. Surrounded by a petrified sandbox where sand and various sandstone layers vary from loose to solid, it has made me consider what it takes to build a house on a firm foundation in this area.

Near the entrance of the canyon, we were met with immediate evidence of a recent flood--areas where sand dunes sloped gently down to from the cliffs were not abrupt edges where the river carried away the bottom ten feet of these hills. Entering the canyon, a mud line marked the walls over thirty feet above our heads. We tried to imagine an instant river of water trying to pass through this narrow canyon at forty miles per hour, carrying sand and debris away and carving the canyon even further. The guide pointed to a log over 25 feet above us that once stood alone. Now, this solitary log was surrounded with weeds, grass, mud, and debris jammed into this narrow space between the canyon walls.

After the tour, I crossed the Colorado River back towards Lake Powell. Next to the bridge is the Glen Canyon Dam which took clearing an extra 125 feet away from the riverbed before reaching a bedrock hard enough to hold the structure. Along the sides, stability poles were drilled into the sandstone walls to prevent the sandstone from eroding from the backed up reservoir. Many of these poles were drilled over 75 feet deep. While the sandstone walls have demonstrated exceptional resilience, it is a bit difficult to conceive of drilling into sand to secure such an enormous structure.

It is here that I consider what it means to follow the words of Christ--so much so that my life is anchored against all rain and any flash flood that threatens to sweep both sand, and sandstone, away. I must be so secure in Him that even when the foundations are threatened, the house of my faith remains secure. As I head back home this upcoming week, I'll be bringing this reminder with me.

Photos of the Week are available for you. I hope that your week is blessed.

Day 174: Online Experience

Hello!

School is now in its full swing. My mornings are spent reading school books, responding to discussion posts, and preparing for deadlines. In the midst of the work, I'm making sure I still get out exploring.

On my days off, I went to Mesa Verde National Park. This was my second time visiting the park, but it's still incredible to stand surrounded by 800-2,000 year-old ruins hearing the stories of how the Ancient Puebloans lived in this region, farming the mesa tops for food, gathering water in reservoirs (one of which could hold about 800 million gallons!), and surviving the arid region around here. There are over 2,000 separate archeological sites here in the park, and 600 of them are cliff dwellings. The artistry of the architecture is incredible to explore. This is the only national park in the United States dedicated to preserve human artifacts instead of a natural landscape. While the early days of white exploration of Mesa Verde stripped many of the artifacts of this place, to see the walls, watchtowers, kivas, and homes still standing is an awesome sight. On the inside of a watchtower of Cliff Palace, there is even an original painting made over 800 years ago! Having visited several ruins and archeological areas in the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico and across the nation of Israel, it's amazing to see similar ruins here within the United States.

In the midst of guided tours through the ruins, probably one of my best moments was sitting on a balcony watching a thunderstorm roll in while studying. In the canyon below I could hear elk bugling during their migration off the mesa, the smell of freshly fallen rain wafted across the breeze, and the rumble of ongoing lightning strikes continued to engage me in the midst of studying about the rise of the Google Age and how to minister within the virtual world. One of my new classes is called Communication in Ministry, exploring how to minister in a world that meets more people online than personally. No matter how much information the Internet or printed books can provide, there still isn't anything like the experience itself. This week has brought a good challenge to me: how do you take experience and put that into a blog? I say that sort-of tongue-in-cheek, because I've been doing it for two years with this blog, but something about this week's reading while being surrounded by ancient ruins really brought this to the forefront.

I first started this blog out of the demand of family wanting to keep updated on my adventures and because individual emails, and group emails later on, were becoming too much of a hassle. Attaching photos took so long in these areas with little Internet strength, and once summer ministry started, my time slimmed even further. This blog helped me stay in contact with people, giving me the chance to share my adventures vicariously with my readers. In response to this though, this week has caused me to really question the impact this blog has had. I've had to consider how many readers have gone out and had an adventure of their own, and whether readers now get out and away to spend quiet time listening to God in wilderness areas. While I recognize that not everyone can live the life I live, there isn't a substitute for experience. We read books, ebooks, and emails to learn and connect, but there will always be a threshold between those who are the recipients of another's journeys and those who step up and step out into something new. I don't necessarily have an answer to all my pondering for this week, but it's nice to step back for a moment and consider the reason why we do the things we do. As I seek to better understand how to connect with online readers, I'm challenged to lean more on God to show me in the weeks and months ahead.

Photos of the Week are included. My challenge for you this week is to intentionally spend some time outdoors in solitude and quietness. See what happens. Blessings on your week!

Day 167: Focal Point

Hello!

Though the storms from last week have continued into this week, there has been a lot more sunshine, making way for more time to explore.

With some good sunlight during the morning, I was able to get onto a photo tour of the most-popular slot canyon in the area. It's one that I've been avoiding due to the summer crowds, but as the season is slowing down, I decided it was a good time to go.

What an incredible experience! The first time I ever went on this tour, it was a rushed tour through the canyon, but this time, our tour had two hours to explore the canyon. The sunbeams were beginning to reach the bottom of the canyon in long, slender lines. The colors of the canyons themselves were filled with yellows, oranges, and reds towards the bottom-end of the canyon where the chambers are large, but then the canyon becomes darker towards the back as the canyon narrows, allowing for only a little bit of light at the very top of the canyon walls. Photographing the canyon was a little bit of a challenge due to the number of people still visiting the canyon. It was the most crowded I had ever seen that canyon, but still our tour guide was good at making space for us to take the photographs we wanted.

Sunday was our last Sunday. KelLee and I had the great joy of having eleven people attend the service! It was awesome to experience, as most Sundays this year has been only one or two other people joining us for service. To have so many people attend the service was a really great experience!

As a final treat before school starts, I got to make an overnight dash to the Grand Canyon. Since my visit during the Spring was spent in the main section of the canyon, I focused my time on the east rim of the canyon, where the flat desert ascends to the peaks of the Palisades, then instantly drop to the depths of the canyon. While the upper end of the Grand Canyon is shallower than the main part, it was beautiful to see. I found one point that had some great vantages to photographing both sunset and sunrise. This section of the rim is where the Colorado makes a drastic turn from the north, flowing from Lake Powell, towards the west, heading through the main section of the canyon towards Lake Mead. Standing at this vantage point, I could see for over fifty miles north and west. While the point was popular during sunset, I had the entire point to myself during sunrise. I felt so spoiled to enjoy the beauty of the canyon all by myself.

After capturing the first light over the canyon, I spent some time sitting quietly and praying. As I did, Ephesians 3:18-19 came to mind: "I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God." Standing at the rim of the Grand Canyon, it is easy to visualize the meaning of this verse as the canyon spreads into depths, heights, and distances away from my vantage point. Like so many others, there is a feeling of smallness and inadequacy to comprehend the extent of this canyon, much less the love of God which extends beyond any imagination!

When people cannot grasp the incredible size of the Grand Canyon, it is common for people to minimize it in order to take it all in. It just becomes another landscape amongst so many other sights to see along the canyon rim and the rest of the Colorado Plateau. My grandpa once commented that the Grand Canyon was just "a big hole in the ground". Sitting here at the rim, while he was right, he was also quite wrong--it's not just a big hole in the ground, but probably one of the most beautiful and intricate "holes in the ground" across the entire planet! But, "if you've seen one 'hole in the ground', you've seen them all".

How often am I a culprit of continuing this mentality towards the love of God! It's the love of God...it's everywhere. It's unescapable. The love of the most Beautiful One is so common that the unescapable becomes escapable. It becomes common and ordinary. In trying to grasp the great extent God's love reaches, how often do I minimize its reach or great intricacies. Having to wrestle with both the great extent of the Grand Canyon, one trick I learned is to find a focal point. It could be a spot on the Colorado River, a particular rock, spire, or butte, but find something in the midst of the entire canyon that captures your attention. As you focus upon that one point--it's beauty, it's mammoth size (or smallness), and all the details upon that one point, then the rest of the canyon falls into place--in seeing this one point, I can see the rest of the canyon in context to this one point, and the Grand Canyon becomes all that more grand.

In comprehending the love of God, I need to do the same thing. In focusing on one particular point in God's love, I am drawn to see the intricate and incredible essence of that one facet of God's love, and while focusing upon that one point, my periphery starts setting that one focal point into a context of the grander scheme of God's love. I can start to see and appreciate His limitlessness.

That was such a good reminder as I sat in the silence of such a massive canyon.

Photos of the Week are available. Blessings to you!