Little Pyramids Historical Landmark & Lake Scott State Park
The 6:00 a.m. service of The Church of the Great Outdoors was in session. A pack of howling coyotes got things started by speaking in tongues. Choirs of songbirds began singing their praises. A horn section of honking geese joined in. Not to be outdone, more owls than I've ever heard at the same time started their flute-like hooting. The percussion was provided by the wind beatin' my rainfly against the body of the tent. Squirrels were dancing outside like holy angels. Then came the most important part--the wordless sermon from the high priest (ME). No words were needed.
For those parishioners who thought they could finally go home after a borin' Monday morning at church . . . SIT BACK DOWN IN YOUR PEW. I'm not done yet.
Next, we are goin' on a pilgrimage to a sacred Great Plains historic site. The road to the big sandstone formations won't be an easy one. It won't be like those other Kansas highways with smooth pavement, big shoulders, and few hills. It will be the opposite of that. Hard labor, self-punishment, and bumpy roads in the service of the church is good for the soul.
The road to hell is paved with blacktop or cement. The road to Church of the Outdoors bliss is paved with rocks.
"Yea," I say unto thee, "I have reached the pinnacle of enlightenment. Not the actual pinnacle, but the high point of the trail at the base of the mountain. Back when I was a young man, I would have found a route and made it to the top. Alas, I am now a church elder, and I no longer trust my knees and grip strength to achieve the pinnacle. This was no mere scramble.
Hold on folks, I know you're itchin' to get back to watchin' TV or checkin' out your Facebook messages, but church ain't over yet. It's time for the end of the day ceremony.
And your first paragraph **almost** made camping seem appealing to me!! Maybe there's hope for me yet, and I can become a real bicycle tourists who sleeps in a tent more than very occasionally. Reply to this comment 2 hours ago
