John the Baptist

The summer solstice earlier this week, marking the first day of summer, always reminds me that the celebration of John the Baptist’s birthday is only days away. The actual birth dates of both John and Jesus are not known, but the Church has placed them in theologically-important places on the calendar. From this week until Christmas, the days will grow shorter. From December 25 until the summer solstice, the days grow longer. This choosing of the dates of the Lord’s birth and John’s birth is directly related to the Baptist’s expression in Jn. 3,30: “He must increase, I must decrease.” Today’s celebration of John’s birth is unique. In celebrating the memory of the saints, the Church’s calendar normally doesn’t celebrate their birthday, but usually the day of their death. There are only two exceptions: Mary the mother of Jesus, and John the Baptist. In fact, John gets preferential treatment in that he is given two feastdays a year (both his birth and his death). John’s humility has deeply impressed Christians through the ages. Before anyone had heard of Jesus of Nazareth, people were coming distances to see John. Yet he pointed to Jesus and away from himself, again, “He must increase, I must decrease.” John actually encouraged his disciples to leave him and follow the Lamb of God. Today’s personal prayer along the way of the Pilgrimage was all about joy because, even though some still see John as a grim figure (his dress and his way of speaking were equally rough), the Gospels always associate him with joy. At the presence of Jesus and Mary, he leaped for joy in his mother’s womb; and referring to him, Jesus said, “The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice.“ The source of John’s joy was probably the humility that so characterized him. But let’s be honest, humility is not a fashionable virtue today. It tends to be seen rather as a condition calling for therapy. Humility, though, means to be well-rooted in or down to earth. St. John the Baptist reminds us to be humble in this way, but to always have a longing for heaven. There is cause for joy here.

The journey today was from the base of Humbug Mountain to Ophir State Park. It was interesting to see Gold Beach draw nearer as the day went on and to see Humbug Mountain grow more distant. I’ve been trying to adopt Fr. Junipero Serra’s motto: “Always forward, never back” . . . but I had to at least look back in order to take some photos of the coastline. Winding roads offer mixed blessings: sometimes you can see far enough forward and ask, “I’ve got to go all the way up there?” And sometimes you can look back and say, “I’ve covered all that ground?” When I was walking with my sister Paula we were on the beach much of the time and we were able to talk a lot, so there wasn’t really a need to recognize landmarks or points of progress. I’ve noticed, however, that walking alone is easier when I have an idea of how far it is to the next climb or where I can find a place to get off the road and have a bite to eat. Paul, David, and Bruce have been very helpful in driving me ahead at the end of each walk to scout the next day’s miles. Again, if I have some intermediate “goals”, it seems that there are brief moments of a sense of accomplishment. One the other hand, there are also those moments when I think, “I haven’t reached Brush Creek yet?”

 

You Guessed It, Brush Creek

The scenery on the South Coast is continuing to impress me. When I have to go inland, like when I had to negotiate Humbug Mountain -- without going over the top of it (1,700 ft.), I am beginning to appreciate the diversity of the foliage and trees. I can now distinguish firs from spruces and myrtle wood from alder. Before the Pilgrimage started, I think I knew Douglas Firs pretty well . . . but most other trees were known by me simply as “not Douglas Firs!” They say that U.S. Grant used to say that he knew two songs. One was Yankee Doodle . . . and the other wasn’t! I’m delighted to be better-versed about our rich treasure of trees here in Oregon and now I’m ready to go to work on shrubs and flowers.

Humbug Mountain captured my attention yesterday. I knew it was my goal at the end of about 13 or 14 miles of walking. I saw it all afternoon as I made my way around Port Orford Bay. It maintained my attention today because I couldn’t avoid seeing it every time I looked back, north. It must be one of the highest peaks right along the coastline and I’m grateful they didn’t carve a road out of it that went up and over. Not only has the mountain been preserved, but walking around it, I guarantee you, had to be easier than up and over. On the route around the mountain there were a few little waterfalls. I could hear their sounds before I could see them and then I could feel the coolness of the splashing water as I leaned in to get a closer look. I hadn't done that since Arch Cape and it was a pleasant return of that experience.

Roadside Mini-Waterfall

A Look Back at Humbug Mountain

First View of Sisters Rocks

Sisters Rocks

View Toward Ophir Beach

Descent from Colebrook Butte

Gold Coast Vista

Lookout Rock

Nesika Beach

Out of the Mountains Toward

Gold Beach

Ophir Beach State Park

(Final Look Back to Humbug Mountain)

A few random notes: Junipero threw a shoe today! He wore out the boot which is where the stick meets the pavement or gravel or sand. The boots are also used on legs of furniture to avoid scraping, but on the walking stick they cushion the impact of the stick on a hard walking surface. It's the second one we've worn out in 24 days. The day wouldn't have been complete without some "St. Francis moments":

She Popped Up Out of Nowhere

He Flew in Hoping to Share My Lunch!

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A final word on Humbug Mountain: A local resident in Port Orford told me how it got its name. It seems that there was an expedition team from a boat during the age of exploration and they were sent ashore to find the mountain (in dense fog); it happened that they went north from the bay and didn't find it. When they turned around and eventually found it (south of the bay), they were in poor spirits . . . muttering things stronger than "humbug", but things you couldn't use to name a mountain! The joy of this day was in stark contrast to the poor spirits of that day. "Lord, always lead our feet into the way of your peace . . . and joy."