Short Stories
Rising on Vision Mesa
by: Rich Adams
It’s different for everyone, as unique and individual as a fingerprint. It can happen like the snapping of your finger, but might take a lifetime to understand. What some people might call their “epiphany” was my “Rising on Vision Mesa”.
We were up just before dawn on the last day of deer season with hopes that all of the fresh signs we had been following would lead to a clear shot, a freezer full of venison and perhaps a trophy. There had been some stories going around that the Blanco Ridge herd was well represented with large bucks; maybe even Boone and Crocket class animals and we were hungry to see one on the wall over the fireplace. After finishing the warm coffee left in the thermos from the night before we started working or way from camp, up Sheep Mountain; the headstone of Vision Mesa.
I had hunted the Flat Tops Wilderness Area before, when I was a boy about 11 or 12. My father had taken me on an Elk hunting trip to Trapper’s Lake and the White River Park a few times but I a never hunted on this face of Sheep Mountain. There are open meadows lined by towering Aspens shimmering in the cool alpine air and ancient forests of rugged Blue Spruce, thick and imposing. This side of the mountain was warm, so warm we were free of winter gear, and by mid afternoon we were reaching the top of the southwestern ridge line; at about 10,000 feet we looked out across the Saw Tooth Range. Above us, Sheep Mountain’s gentle face continued to rise to a 12.000 ft. peak but we were still about a thousand feet from the tree line.
As we looked about from our vantage point on top of the mesa it seemed like we could see forever in every direction but behind us. The Saw Tooth Range stretching off into the distance to the East as far as we could see and there were white topped peaks North and West of us. This was truly a beautiful place to spend a perfect day in the early alpine winter.
I grew up in the mountains of Colorado and Wyoming in the fifties, when there was little to spoil the beauty of the Rockies. My father was a real outdoors man, who trained me to hunt and trap at a young age. I had left Lander, my home town near the Wind River Range in Wyoming, to go to Viet Nam; coming home uninjured, but not unscarred, and getting away to these mountains was my way of finding peace.
We settled down near a clearing on the crown of a gradual slope, overlooking a glassy pond near the edge of a stand of massive Blue Spruce.
It was nearing sundown when I first heard the leaves rustling around us then felt the slightest tingle as a warm, upslope breeze ruffled my eye lashes. Turning to gaze to the Southwest, the sunset was starting to look like an expensive postcard; with bold reds and gold’s as the ball of fire began to settle down along the jagged edge of the Saw Toothed silhouette. The wispy clouds above resembled huge feathers, darting streams of light and shadow playing against the darkening sky; it was simply the most dramatic sunset I have ever witnessed.
Just then, we heard a rustling noise, and two deer cautiously stepped away from the tree line toward the glassy pond, about one hundred and fifty yards away. It was getting darker and harder to see far off so we could not positively identify what we were looking at. Then another came forward, and we were almost positive it was a doe and two fawns. We were sitting out in the open now as we watched the sunset but they didn’t seem to notice us as they began to play and run about the meadow; they started heading straight for us. As we watched these little ones playing in the grass something caught our attention, something unbelievable was happening all around us!
Looking back again at the sunset, now a burning fire of deep reds and purples with just the tip of the sun above the skyline, the mountain tops of the Saw Tooth were brilliant silver because there was a bright, illuminating light coming from behind us. We spun around to the East to see a full moon rising over the peaks, which were now vivid red from their snowy cover reflecting the colors cast by the sunset!
There were rays of silvery blue moonlight streaming across the sky toward the fiery glow of the sunset; first one would overcome the other as they fought back and forth for dominance. The moon looked huge and brilliant; clearly visible in every detail.
We were looking at each other with amazment when we realized the three deer had moved up the slope and were standing right in front of us. We sat on the slope with our legs crossed as Indians, our rifles across our laps, watching them watching us. We were so close I could see the reflection of the sunset in their eyes and if I had reached out my hand I could have touched them.
The battle of Heaven’s lights ragged on behind us and before us, but we were “paralyzed” in astonishment. There were two doe and a four point Western Whitetail buck! I had heard “stories” over the years that there were Whitetail deer in these mountains but no one I ever met had seen one. The Arapahoe and Shoshone friends I had told me “tribal stories” of their medicine powers and “spiritual” importance to Native Americans; and they were standing right in front of us! As I sat there looking into the eyes of the little red buck, he blinked, and the three bounded off up the hill never looking back. It was over, the moon had risen and the sun was fully set. Everything seemed to be back to normal, except that somehow, in just a few moments I had changed.
It was as if my father was standing right next to me, close and intent on the moment at hand; an unspoken but profound truth came over me. I didn’t “hear” any words but I understood something had happened in that instant of time that would change my life forever.
It was over thirty years ago when I received that unexpected visit from “a word without a voice”, an understanding without searching for the knowledge of it, the answers to questions I had not yet asked. It was the overwhelming acceptance of my own humanity in the presence of Pure Majesty, there was no way around it, I had touched Heaven and God had whispered my name.
He used the elements of life that I had always looked to as “a god” to show me how much greater He (The Lord) Is! I felt as if I was lifting up off the ground, like I was rising! In some ways that sensation has remained with me as the heavy burdens of my life bare down on me with less and less weight.
That evening was the beginning of the much different life I have now. To me it symbolized the setting of my old life and the rising of a new and much improved one. One that is filled with the experiences and relationships designed to bring me into a more intimate spiritual life with the Maker of Life Himself.
Some years later I read these words in my Bible, “since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities-his eternal power and divine nature-have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse” Rom.1:20. Step by step He is bringing me closer to Him, since that first Rising on Vision Mesa.
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