We leave for Africa in a few days. Eighteen hours of travel time via Amsterdam to get to Kilimanjaro. Our trek begins this Tuesday (8/8) with a summit push on Monday, August 14.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Screen capture of the Garmin tracking site.[/featured-image]

I know some of you have expressed an interest in following us. I won’t be blogging for the next couple of weeks—that lack of wifi on the mountain thing—but I do have a satellite gps device from Garmin that sends out tracking information every 10 minutes or so for you to follow along.

To do so, go to: https://share.garmin.com/PhilLaBelle/. A map will show up, and you’ll be able to see the waypoints of our hikes along the way. I used it today on my last training hike—a little under 2 miles at nearby Mt. Wachusett—so you should see that one right now. Tanzania is 7 hours ahead of Eastern Time. Additionally, on most days our hiking will take 4-6 hours. If you check the site by 9am here in East, we’ll likely be done for the day. On our summit push, we’re slated to leave in the darkness at 3am (8pm Eastern) and hike 10-12 hours or so.

I’ll blog once more before I head out, but wanted to get this information out there. Thanks for your support!

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Last night after a long day of driving, we pulled into home. It’s been five weeks of living on the road, visiting parks, waking up in a tent or in a hotel room, and then wondering what grand adventure waits before us.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

But those adventures now lie behind. We’ve explored and hiked and saw family and friends and did so many other things it’s too much to account for in a blog post.

And perhaps the best adventure of all is coming home.

Continue reading Coming Home

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The other day my tent pole snapped and so did I.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

It had been a windy day. I had seen the forecast the day before—a red flag fire warning had been given for the entire area surrounding Theodore Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota—winds coming in with gusts between 25-35 miles an hour. No campfires or grilling allowed. When we set up the tent the day before, we placed it head on to the winds having learned earlier in our trip that the massive eight person tent we had acts like a sail. With the tent facing the winds, we could leave the windows open allowing the strong breeze to blow through.

Or so I thought. Continue reading Broken Things

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I’m sitting in a low chair in the business center of a Best Western Plus (I have no idea what makes it a “Plus”– perhaps the water slide at the pool?) in Havre, Montana as I near the halfway mark of my sabbatical.  Officially it happens Saturday when I’ll be tenting in Teddy Roosevelt National Park and away from cyberspace yet again (but will be feeling much closer to outer space in this great stargazing part of the country), so I wanted to get some thoughts down now.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

To think it’s only been half of my sabbatical feels odd. I’ve been away ages it seems and visited so many places. I’ve had a week in New Mexico and then Vancouver. I’ve been in the White Mountains and the Green Mountains of Vermont. We’ve explored 8 National Parks, a National Monument and a variety of other sites, from the strange — I’m looking at you, Green Giant–to the breath-taking–everyone should spend time at the Crazy Horse Memorial. We’ve seen elk, bison, prairie dogs, moose, black bears, eagles, beaver, mountain goats, big horn sheep and more. We’ve visited waterfalls, and hiked mountains. We’ve seen old friends and visited with family. We’ve endured wind gusts pushing 40-50 miles an hour, hail, lightning, rain and the presence of smoke from wildfires at our campsites. We’ve soaked in hot springs, floated on a river, and eaten more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches than I ever though possible. Continue reading Halfway Reflections on a Sabbatical

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I first noticed it about an hour after we had crossed the border into Canada, although I thought it was smog. “Wow,” I remarked to Melissa, “I never thought there’d be this heavy of a haze in Alberta. You can barely make out the mountains.”

We had been traveling north along the Rockies from Glacier. I thought maybe it would pass as we got closer to Calgary.

It didn’t. And then we noticed the car began smelling like campfire. It dawned on me then that there had to be a forest fire somewhere in the distance.

We’d heard countless times that the immensity of the Canadian Rockies would blow us away. And it has some. But the majestic views have been clouded over by smoke. The acrid smell of a fire hangs in the air at all times. I woke up to see if I could catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights only to see the sliver of the waning moon shrouded in red.

I heard again about the importance of forest fires to the ecosystem on a ranger led hike in Montana. Fire deals with the underbrush that has gotten too dense. Some trees, like lodge pole pines, can only spread the seeds from their pine cones under immense heat. We noticed fireweed–glorious purple wild flowers–on that hike in Glacier, which immediately spring up after the flames rip through a forest. It has been a few years since fire had hit the trail we walked, and I saw shells of tree trunks with their insides completely charred.

While the end result may be beneficial, no one likes the impact of a fire when it’s happening. I know I wish I could see the stunning views better. And I know when the fires have raged in my life, the last thing I could imagine was new life.

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We had a bit of rain last night, and the wind hasn’t yet died down this morning. The weather report predicts strong gusts all day.

Camping has made me more aware of the daily weather patterns. It’s easy to have it be an afterthought most days back home. You head out the door and then realize you hadn’t dressed appropriately. You think, “Perhaps I should have checked the forecast.”

And maybe being more aware of the weather patterns in our own lives would be helpful too. We recognize the storms full on–the hurricanes and the like. But do we really notice when the sun shines a tad too brightly giving us a burn? Or are we attentive when the wind swirls dust clouds around us lodging dirt in the crevices of our lives?

Or those delightful days that heal the soul, do we cherish them enough?

Camping, being outdoors day after day, opens my eyes to the physical weather. I hope it does the same for the eyes of my soul.

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Houston, we have a problem.

So, I imagined a great system for posting to this blog with my iPad and a wireless keyboard. However while stored, the keyboard had keys pressed down and the iPad thought I was trying to log in. Except it wasn’t the right passcode. And it tried too many times, so it locked me out until I can connect to my home computer.

Posts for the next two weeks or so will be few. (I’m attempting to post from my phone when I have service.) However, I’ll still post instagram photos (instagram.com/ramblingpriest) when possible.

It’s the wilderness, friends!

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I’ve been at enough national parks to know that when you see a significant number of cars pulled to the side of the road, it’s best to join them and then discover why you’ve stopped. Today it was a moose standing in a pond just as we entered Grand Teton National Park. Spotting a moose has been a dream of Melissa’s for a long time. Ten cars had pulled over ahead of us. If they hadn’t, we would have zoomed right by.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

Fifteen minutes later we pulled up to the place we’ll call home for the next couple of days; a camping area that overlooks the Teton range. It’s remarkable. Breathtaking. Majestic. Continue reading Is There Renewal in the Wilderness?

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It had nothing to do with gear or footwear or the backpacking fads or philosophies of any particular era or even with getting from point A to point B.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Phil LaBelle, 2017.[/featured-image]

It had to do with how it felt to be in the wild. With what it was like to walk for miles with no reason other than to witness the accumulation of trees and meadows, mountains and deserts, streams and rocks, rivers and grasses, sunrises and sunsets. The experience was powerful and fundamental. It seemed to me that it had always felt like this to be a human in the wild, and as long as the wild existed it would always feel this way.”

Cheryl Strayed from Wild

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On our first night in the Black Hills of South Dakota, a storm blew in.
We had been watching storms for the past few days. In the plains you can see rain from miles away. We’d watch as a black line of clouds would approach from the west with lightning strikes happening way off in the distance, but often the storms would pass to our south.

[featured-image single_newwindow=”false”]Photo Credit: Vincent Parsons Flickr via Compfight cc[/featured-image]
But we checked the radar on a weather app and recognized it might be a real possibility for us. One storm came in just before bedtime, so we road it out in our car, watching all the wonder and fury.

Continue reading When Storms Kick Up

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