Cleft of the Rock

Journal 2005 11 11
Cleft of the Rock

“A hard rain all the last night, dureing the last tide the logs on which we lay was all on float    Sent out Jo Fields to hunt, he Soon returned and informed us that the hills was So high & Steep, & thick with undergroth and fallen Timber that he could not get out any distance; about 12 oClock 5 Indians came down in a canoe, the wind verry high from the S. W. with most tremendious waves brakeing with great violence against the Shores, rain falling in torrents, we are all wet as usial and our Situation is truly a disagreeable one; the great quantites of rain which has loosened the Stones on the hill Sides, and the Small Stones fall down upon us, our canoes at one place at the mercy of the waves, our baggage in another and our Selves and party Scattered on floating logs and Such dry Spots as can be found on the hill Sides, and Crivices of the rocks.”

Buckskin clothes rotting away as the men wore them, camped on driftwood logs “on the float”, and men seeking some respite from the raging storms in the “Crivices of the rocks.” Sounds like a recipe for disaster rather than great adventure.

Every time I drive from Vancouver or Portland westward to the Pacific I find I’ve forgetten just how remote this area of our great land still is. Abandoned docks, ghost towns of dashed dreams and still very few people carving out a living along this rugged stretch of land. The hills always more rugged than remembered and expected. A mile and half from the riverbank the hills reach 1,500 feet!

Yesterday the men broke camp and made ten miles around the point in the process retreating two miles to the only place that held any hope of surviving the night. Captain Clark described it above. Only in the most desperate of situations would we ever consider a camp like the one they stayed in.

Respite, refuge, relief from the onslaught of the storm is found in the clefts, or cracks, of the rocks. When we speak of the clefts of the rocks I usually think of hiding or being hidden away. Moses was protected from the power of the Glory of God in the cleft of a rock as God passed by. Isaiah hid a belt in a cleft in a rock. David was familiar with finding refuge in the clefts of rocks as the King Saul’s armies pursued him. Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Indians is still studied by our current day warriors for his ability to elude his pursuers using the clefts of the rocks. We want only to live in the palace of God. Who in their right mind would ever desire to live where the cleft of a rock was their best refuge? That is a desperate situation. Given time, all of us would find a better place of safety. And if we knew ahead of time at least we’d wear wetsuits, not rotting leather. Yet we sing "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee."

So our friendly travelers are less than ten miles from their finish line and yet they are pinned against the cliffs by the forces of nature.

Great adventure! In our dreams we want it. In reality, are we ready for the hardships that are the prerequisite to making it great? If we are, let us find refuge from every desperate situation in the cleft of the Rock of Ages.