“Mountain Tops”
-Dr. Eric Becker -
Crab cakes never tasted so good. Food has always been a source of comfort to me in stressful situations and flying was certainly one of them. I am not sure just when I developed such a dread of flying. The captain of the Alaska bound 767 told us to anticipate some significant turbulence during the eight-hour flight from Atlanta to Anchorage. Late afternoon thunderstorms over the mid-west were still gaining strength. I sank back into my seat and wondered just how white my knuckles might look to the empathetic flight attendant.
My Alaskan odyssey began the year before. Nursing a badly fractured knee from a horseback riding accident, I took self-pity to new levels. Sensing my frustration with the slow recovery, my loving wife Caroline inquired as to what might ease my suffering. "Alaska", I blurted out without hesitation. I was not even sure what I wanted to hunt in Alaska, but a series of phone calls led me to Larry Rivers, a master guide with a stellar reputation. We decided that a Dall sheep hunt in the Brooks Range was just the therapy I needed so desperately.
Over the next few months, I would spend many hours visiting Larry, and his wife Naomi's web page. The photos of sheep, caribou and bear, along with the stories from his hunters gave me the incentive to start my long rehabilitation. The site included everything one needed to know about what to expect on one of the many hunts Larry offers. Buried within his discussions about clothing, rifles and other paraphernalia, I noticed a brief entry about Larry's priorities: “ I am a Christian,” it said. “My relationship with the Lord is the most important thing in my life, followed by my wife and family, and third is my work. If you are not interested in spiritual things, I will not burden you with my beliefs, if you don't know the Lord Personally, and would like to, just ask. I would be happy to share my experiences in the hope that you can have the inner peace that I enjoy so much.
"Uh-Oh, " I thought. Well at least he gets great trophies. Six months passed by slowly as I tried to get into "sheep shape".
Two months before my departure, I received E-mail from Larry. His wife of 31 years had been killed in a freak accident on a remote Alaskan highway. She died in his arms. As I read the words from this announcement, I felt a twinge, deep in my gut. I pictured briefly what I would feel if the love of my life were to be snatched from me, and tried to dismiss it as quickly. The letter went on to say that the fall season would go on as scheduled. "She would have wanted it that way,” the letter said, and it asked for our prayers.
My flight was otherwise uneventful, and I had a brief layover in Anchorage before departing on Alaska Air for Dead Horse. In good weather, the flight makes a scenic detour around Mount McKinley. The panoramic flight at 20,000 feet actually allows you to look up at the summit and down at the glacial valleys below. The beauty is indescribable. Excited as I was, however, I could not rid myself of the nagging feeling I had about Larry's loss.
He met us at the Prudoe Bay airport in his vintage Cessna. The other four sheep hunters scrambled into the plane for the thirty-minute flight to base camp, but I bravely volunteered for the three- hour overland route by truck. My first glimpse of a grizzly bear, as well as a herd of musk ox from the lonely gravel highway rewarded my cowardice, however. The last leg of the journey was a 10-minute flight from "Happy Valley", (three wooden sheds, fuel depot and gravel airstrip) to Larry’s camp on the Ivashak River. The plane banked sharply and lost altitude as Larry circled in to give us a closer look at a pair of caribou bulls skirting the rock studded riverbank. Their antlers were silhouetted on the snow-covered tundra. My knuckles once again assumed the now familiar shade of white. We landed uneventfully on the tundra just a stone's throw from base camp.
The arctic plain ends abruptly at the northern foothills of the Brooks Range. It made a dramatic backdrop for catching my first Arctic Grayling. Larry busied himself with transporting the expectant sheep hunters to their remote spike camps by two seat Super Cub. I was entranced by the flight over snow-capped mountain peaks and deep river valleys. My fear ebbed and my sprits rose with the magnificent sites below. We were headed for a remote valley that Larry called, "Naomi and I."
Larry explained over the plane's intercom that they often camped in this valley, exploring its isolated passes and spending precious hours together before the hectic hunting season began. He told me of how together, they built a log cabin deep in the wilderness. They made a family business outfitting hunts in Alaska and Asia. They home-schooled their three children and traveled the world together on a shoestring budget. Now she was gone. "The joy is out of my life", he said. "These mountains no longer mean anything to me". I could hear the tears in his voice as he told me about their lives together. His mournful words made a stark contrast to the beautiful vistas passing below. My futile condolences were hollow attempts to mollify the profound grief I saw in this man.
We landed in a deep mountain gorge. Larry's hand picked guide had efficiently prepared camp. We quickly unloaded the plane, as he needed to move two other clients to their hunting sites. Brian, my guide, stowed my gear in the bright yellow dome- tent that would be our home for the next week. I lingered at the plane just not knowing what else to say.
"Has your faith been shaken?" I asked.
"No it has not," he replied, "because I know she is has gone to be with her Lord. That doesn't make it any easier though…"
Larry climbed back into the super cub to leave, but I couldn’t walk away. I walked up to the wing looked at Larry and said, “I read that you know the Lord, and I want that.”
He looked me straight in the eye and asked, "Are you a Christian?"
"Well, yes, sort of…" I muttered.
"Do you know Jesus…personally?" he asked.
"No," I answered truthfully.
"Do you want to?” He asked.
The question seemed rather rhetorical, and I contemplated the answer. Over the past couple of years, I had come to realize that something in my life was missing. I had a loving wife, a lucrative career and all the trappings that go along with what I would call "success". I knew, however, that something deeper and more meaningful was lacking.
"Sure" I replied hesitatingly.
“Now?” Larry asked.
“Yes.” I replied.
Larry climbed out of the cockpit.
"I don't have a bible for reference," he said. "But it is really not complicated. Scripture says quite simply, 'ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you.'"
"Pray with me now," he instructed. He took my hand and said "repeat after me.” He said something about not being worthy, about being sinners and asking for forgiveness. He said something about being grateful for our many gifts. He asked that the Lord would help us with our earthly troubles. Finally he asked that the Lord would come into our hearts and take control of our lives, that we would surrender our will and follow His.
Tears filled both our eyes, we hugged under the wing of that plane and nothing else was said. He climbed back into the cockpit, but I didn't see the plane take off and the distant drone of the plane’s engine faded into utter silence.
I stopped short of camp and took in my surroundings. A gentle snow began to fall. The bright yellow tent sat conspicuously on the vast rugged landscape. The valley was carpeted in green and red and encased by stark granite peaks on all sides. I felt a little like a small child, lost in a great cathedral. It was very humbling to see how something so majestic and all encompassing could be so silent and serene. I retreated to the warmth of the tent, Larry's words still echoing in my mind. “Christ said: Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy- laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."
Brian and I exchanged pleasantries and with night falling, we tucked ourselves into sleeping bags. The soft light of his kerosene lamp lit the inside of our humble shelter. We read our books by flickering lamplight, but quite suddenly, everything had changed.
I have searched for words to describe what happened next but they seem woefully inadequate. It was almost as if a great warm blanket descended upon me, almost a feeling of levitation. It was as if some great invisible weight had suddenly been lifted from my shoulders. All of the worries, fears and trepidation in my life suddenly vanished. All the concerns I had about work, health and family one by one were shown to me and then plucked away. Brian had fallen asleep and I was grateful because I did not understand what was happening. I could no more stop the tears of joy that flowed than I could stop the snow that fell outside. That night an entirely new understanding was given to me. It was not that I knew what the outcomes of all my situations would be, but rather, that regardless of outcome; all things would come together for a purpose. By His will this time and not mine. The sun rose that morning to sleepless eyes that never felt so rested.
Six inches of snow covered everything in sight. Finding a Dall sheep in these conditions would be difficult, but I didn't care. It took four hours to climb to the summit. On the way we found where a ram had bedded down the night before, the oval patch where he lay was the only spot on the mountain which was clear of snow. It was a tactical overlook where he probably watched our slow progress with amusement before loping over to the next mountain. We glassed for hours catching only a fleeting glimpse of our ram as he crossed into the next range. That day I basked in the beauty of the place Larry called, "Naomi's strip" because it's where they used to hunt together.
That night, the snow fell again and for the first time since I was a child, I prayed with conviction and sincerity. I prayed that the man who had helped to change my life, who had suffered so much, would have some solace. Once again I received a special awareness. I was made to understand that the joy that Larry and Naomi had shared at this place was a gift from God. It was a gift so special and personal that it could never be lost or destroyed. Some of the pain he was now experiencing was part of the joy that they had once known at this place. I was assured that all things would be, as they should.
Two days later, Larry flew in to check on our progress. He later told me that during his flight back to base camp, he wondered whether anything would change for me. The next time he saw me, he immediately knew that it had. While flying to our next spike camp, I kidded him, asking whether he charged extra for spiritual enlightenment. If so, I didn't bring enough money. He asked me what had happened, but in truth, I could not yet talk about it. This time, he could hear the tears in my voice. "Praise the Lord" was all he said. In the reflection of the cockpit window, I could see for the first time, a little smile, and I knew that at least part of my prayer had been answered.
My search for the elusive sheep continued. Four more days of rain, snow, fog made hunting difficult. It wasn't until the seventh day of my hunt that we spotted a band of three rams, one of which was the trophy I sought. It was late in the day before we finished with the pictures, caping and butchering. It took six hours, traversing steep slopes through a dense fog before we stumbled into camp at 11 p.m. The arctic twilight faded into night as we struggled into our sleeping bags exhausted.
It took another day and a half before Larry was able to extricate us from the bad weather. Back at base camp we had a little time to talk before the next group of hunters arrived. He told me that my experience had brought much joy to his grieving family. This event had helped to make some sense of an all-consuming loss. He said that many people were now praying for me and I was humbled to realize that I was now a part of a much larger family. He read a passage of scripture to me. “I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” I feel a great honor to be one of the seeds that Naomi's untimely death had sown. I am grateful to Larry who heard the timid knock, and taught me how to ask and enabled me to receive. Snow, fog, fear, grief and tears would normally be a curse on a hunt like mine. This time however, they were merely props in a great theater. A new stage had been set. A door was opened.
Epilogue:
It has been two years now since all of this took place. I have earned my pilot's license. I wish I could say that I lived every day on the mountaintops and that every new day and every new flight was made without some fear, but that would not be true. After all, Christians and pilots are not born; they are made. Life is lived in the valleys with only fleeting moments spent on the summits. Dark clouds will always have some turbulence.
The same month that Naomi died, another Alaskan was killed in a car accident leaving behind a wife and two small children. Those two children now refer to Larry as “Daddy”. Last month, Larry and his new wife Robin, along with Fern and little Robin visited Caroline and me in Alabama. It was quite a treat to have Larry land his Cessna in town and to do some flying just for the fun of it. No white knuckles this time. It was a joy to see the pieces of two bereaved families come together as one. I am amazed to realize that we were all brought together as part of God's plan. There is much that I will never know or understand, however, there is a bit of wisdom that I do carry with me every day. It is the realization that there is a plan, a purpose and a path through every valley and on every mountaintop.
Home Page Photo Galleries
Alaska: General Information - Dall Sheep - Brown Bear - Grizzly Bear
Alaska: Openings - Prices - Book a hunt now - Photo Galleries - Stories and articles
Alaska: Equipment lists - Hotels - License fees - Unit map - Q&A - Sporting goods
Alaska: TaxidermistsTajikistan: Marco Polo
Kazakhstan: General Info. - Ibex - Maral Stag - Maral / Ibex combination
Russia: Russian Brown Bear - Snow Sheep