Since I’m technically on vacation, my writing time is quite limited. Nevertheless, on a recent hike we came across a fascinating scene.
Until last week, we had never been to Minnesota’s North Shore—that stretch of Lake Superior shoreline stretching from Duluth to Grand Portage. A few weeks ago, I lamented that we had planned a week of camping and hiking in that region, but Chris’s knee problems compelled us to cancel and opt for a “staycation” instead.
In the meantime, we were kindly offered a week at a cabin in northern Wisconsin, 45 miles from Duluth. Looking at the map, I realized that some of the places we wanted to visit were actually within reasonable driving distance from the cabin!
So we left the cabin, booked an overnight stay north of Two Harbors, and crammed as much activity as possible in 36 hours.
With great hesitation because of Chris’s knee, we started the first day with a 14+ mile round-trip bike ride on the Lakeshore Trail in Duluth. The first 2 miles and the last mile were beautiful, giving us plenty of lake views on a gorgeous day.
After a late lunch, we headed north to Split Rock Lighthouse State Park. This is a wonderful sight for viewing the lake, the shore, and the lighthouse! A few different paths lead to great spots for viewing the lighthouse (see the photo at the top of the page).
The next day, we planned more than we could do. By the way, that’s not a bad strategy—gives a reason to return and do the things you missed out on the first time!
After a too-big breakfast at The Lemon Wolf Café near Silver Bay, we headed north toward Tettegouche State Park, stopping first at Palisade Head—an imposing cliff rising high above the lakeshore. Stunning views!
The bulk of our time that day, though, was dedicated to some hiking in Tettegouche. Surprisingly and thankfully, Chris’s knee was much improved! The bike ride didn’t bother it at all, nor did the brief hikes at Palisade Head.
So, leaving the Visitor Center, we headed to the High Falls Trail—a mile and a half trail leading to one of the park’s iconic waterfalls.
Naturally, the falls are the destination. The trail begins near Baptism River, and other than a few brief glimpses, the river is out of view, though still heard through the woods.
As one would expect from the name (HIGH Falls), the trail is mostly uphill the whole way. Not rigorous, but still—uphill. Until you reach the falls themselves. At that point, getting the best views requires descending a set of stairs—about 50 steps—to the river’s edge.
It’s well worth the mandatory climb back up the steps!
It was on the way to the falls that an odd configuration caught my attention. I noticed it, but walked on by. On the return, though, I stopped to snap the picture, for I’d been thinking of it ever since.
There, fifteen feet from the trail was a large boulder wrapped in tree roots looking like fingers grasping, holding on for dear life. The roots provided vital nourishment for three decent-sized pine trees towering above the boulder. Clearly, this scene has been developing for years, the trees growing inch by inch in a most inhospitable context.
“How in the world….?” I wondered. How did the original cones lodge there, allowing the seeds to germinate…to find a source of nourishment…to gain a foothold…to survive, grow…thrive?
But there they were!
Where the seeds landed, the trees grew. And thrived!
After the trees, we hiked to where Baptism River entered into Lake Superior, then another half-mile to Shovel Point. Lots of beautiful scenes.
But my thoughts returned to the boulder trees and the message they communicated.
Grow where you’re planted.
An important principle, isn’t it?
I can recall in the summer of 1993, less than a year after our family had moved to Vermont, I was getting antsy, feeling out of place, like I belonged somewhere else. I sought counsel from an older, wise pastor—about the age I am now! His advice?
Grow where you’re planted.
In essence, he said, God had us there for a reason—maybe just a season, maybe longer. But the new, different, and (to me) difficult place had much to teach me; I had much to learn, plenty of growing to do.
That “season” lasted eight years and became one of our favorite places. I grew in more ways than I can recount here, but I’ve always been grateful for those years in Shelburne.
Though not a particularly easy lesson, most of us have to learn it at some point—and the earlier, the better, I think.
I imagine Titus also had come to grips with the “boulder” he’d landed on—the Mediterranean island of Crete. In his letter to Titus, the Apostle Paul recalled that he left Titus on the island to oversee several fledgling ministries, working with the local churches to ordain elders in every city.
That may sound exciting, exotic even—working on a Mediterranean island! But the way Paul describes things, it was no vacation spot.
He spoke of some people being “…insubordinate, empty talkers and deceivers….” Others, he reports, “are detestable, disobedient, unfit for any good work.” (See Titus 1:10, 16)
And when it comes to describing the islanders as a whole, he quotes a Cretan poet who not-so-generously suggests, “’Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, lazy gluttons.’ This testimony is true,” Paul declares in agreement! (See Titus 1:12)
Despite the difficult, rocky soil in which he landed, Titus needed to grow there.
And so do I…and so do you.
As Peter exhorts us at the end of his second letter,
“But grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”
2 Peter 3:18
Even if we’ve landed on a boulder.
