Jacob’s Pillow

Ever tried sleeping on a hard-as-a-rock pillow and thought you’d never get to sleep?

My better half has never been backpacking before. Done many a day hike with me through the years, but never with a 25 lb. pack on her back. Never setting up a tiny, lightweight tent at the end of a long, sweaty day for the night’s shelter. Never dealt with “all natural” restroom facilities and no shower before hitting the sack (or sleeping bag). Never ate a reconstituted dehydrated meal for supper, either.

But she knows I enjoy the challenge, so she told me earlier this year she wants to go with me on a trip. Not a long one. Just something to get the experience.

So, I planned.

Plan A

The original plan was to hike about 60 miles on the Ice Age Trail in Kettle Moraine State Forest in southern Wisconsin. I set aside six days to do it, split in half with a couple nights at a campground with an actual shower and normal (for a campground, anyway) bathroom.

As the time drew near for the hike, it was apparent that neither of us was really up to the challenge. So, scrapped Plan A. Came up with Plan B.

Plan B

Plan B entailed just a couple nights in Yellow River State Park north of Dubuque, Iowa. The milage was far more manageable, but one of the delightful features concerned “the facilities.” In the park are a few designated backpacking campsites—“facilities” free. For the uninitiated, that means using a trowel, digging a pit…enough said. Certainly no showers!

Less than a week before our designated hike date, northeast Iowa received a deluge—flash floods swept through Yellow River State Park, closing roads and campgrounds. Whether it would be open for our visit remained to be seen.

Time for Plan C.

Plan C

Plan C sent us back to Wisconsin’s Ice Age Trail, but this time in the Devil’s Lake State Park area. OK, here’s how good of a husband I am (it’s fine to roll the eyes now). I found us a campsite in the park, near normal campground “facilities”—including a shower.

The plan:

• Park the car outside the park, 4.5 miles from the campground.
• Backpack to the campsite for a two-night stay.
• Spend the next day hiking sans backpacks throughout the park
• Pack up the backpacks on day 3 and hike back to the car.

Bottom line was the bride could get a taste of backpacking without ALL of the challenges of the real thing.

Outfitting

In the meantime, since her initial expression of willingness to hit the trail with me, we invested in a good bit of equipment to make sure she’d be properly outfitted. Other than some good hiking boots, some suitable clothing, a sleeping bag and pad, she had nothing.

Started with a good Gregory pack. Added a couple pair of lightweight Darn Tough socks, plus a pair of sock liners (helps avoid blisters). I figured a bug net would be critical, but turns out it was superfluous—the lack of mosquitos gnats was a pleasant surprise! With Plan A, I knew it was a long distance between water sources, so splurged for a hydration pack (which, with Plan C, we left at home). There were a couple other items as well.

But the piece of equipment critical to this article was what’s called a “sit pad.” The name says it all, really. It’s made of a lightweight material and used during breaks in hiking or at camp to make sitting on a rock or log more comfortable. I looked for one like mine, but couldn’t it. So I settled for a product from REI. Wasn’t crazy about it, because it had to be inflated and deflated with each use. But it seemed the overall best option. Ordered it.

A day or two later, bride asked, “What do I do for a pillow?”

Oh yeah.

I have a fairly nice one—by backpacking standards, at least. It’s probably 9”x15” and self-inflates. Not like a fluffy, soft down variety, but better than nothing, for sure. But I have only one, and there wasn’t time to shop for another.

Solution

Then I remembered reading about the inflatable sit pad I just ordered! It could be used as a pillow, the description said! Whew…dodged a bullet on that one.

Fast forward two weeks. We’ve left the car behind, carried our packs the obligatory 4 ½ miles to our Devil’s Lake campsite, set up the tent, laid out the sleeping mats and bags, and got out the pillows. Mine was straightforward—used it several times before.

Her “sit-pad” pillow seemed…inadequate. Though much larger than the size of my pillow, even fully inflated, it was much too thin to serve as a pillow, I thought. Then I figured it out. There was a snap on either end. For pillow use, fold the sit pad in half and snap. Viola! Pillow!

Feeling this pillow-wannabe I’m thinking, “She’s not gonna like this!” So…I told her she could use my pillow; I’d use the sit-pad pillow.

Hence, Jacob’s Pillow.

We hit the sack a bit past “hiker midnight” (9:00 p.m.). I rested my head on what was supposed to be a pillow and groaned. No way. For one thing, it was plastic—feels wonderful against the cheek as you drift off to sleep! Chris suggested wrapping her clean pair of hiking pants around it. That helped problem #1.

Problem #2 became more pronounced as the minutes ticked by. The thing was hard! I mean, sleeping-on-a-rock hard!

Oh well…as the in-vogue adage says, “It is what it is!” Make the best of it & get to sleep.

I tried…and slept fitfully for a while. Until a critter outside the tent stirred me from my light slumber. Turned on the headlamp and discovered a big momma raccoon on our picnic table after the small bag of trash with nothing edible in it. Sufficiently startled, she scrambled off into the woods.

Again, I gingerly rested my head on the rock and drifted into an uncomfortable semi-consciousness. Until a screaming child a few campsites away decided 2 a.m. is a good time to throw a tantrum and awaken the entire campground. Finally, ten minutes later, crabby kid fell silent.

Drifting away again, I tried very hard to ignore how hard my pillow was. Then, just as sleep was about to overtake me, a very loud “Whooo! Whooo…Whooo!” broke the silence. A friend in the distance echoed the call. Then again. Again, the echo. One more time, now!

Wow…hearing owls was pretty cool. But it was nearly 3 a.m. and a deep, sound sleep would be far cooler!

They finally finished their conversation. I closed my eyes once again, trying to find a somewhat comfortable spot on my “rock” of a pillow.

It seemed futile. No matter where I rested my head, it felt like I was trying to sleep on a rock!

Then I remembered Jacob’s Pillow.

The Story

Do you know the story? You can find it here: Genesis 28:10-22.

Jacob and Esau were brothers, sons of Isaac, grandsons of Abraham. The sibling rivalry was palpable. Long story short, Jacob peeved his brother by stealing dad’s blessing intended from Esau. Esau was determined to kill Jacob, so Jacob fled his home.

His first night in this backpacking excursion found him in the middle of a wilderness absent all the comforts of home. He even forgot his pillow. A nearby pillow-sized rock would have to do.

And there, trying to sleep with head resting on a chunk of rock, God met him in the vision of a ladder ascending from his wilderness bed to heaven, with angels climbing up and down the ladder. At the top of the ladder, the Lord spoke and reassured the fearful backpacker that all would be well. He—the Lord—would see to it!

And in that reassuring vision, the Lord promised his chosen one several things:

• Place: “The land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring^”
• Posterity: “Your offspring shall be like the dust of the earth”
• Prominence: “in you and your offspring shall all the families of the earth be blessed”
• Protection: “I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land”
• Presence: “For I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you”

The spot of that dream became a place of rock-solid confidence in the Lord God who met His child. When Jacob awoke, he made an altar, worshipped God, and renamed the place “Bethel” or “house of God.” Years later, he returned to the same place and worshiped again. Years later, his descendants—now a vast multitude—returned here and made it a prominent worship center in the land they had come to occupy, fulfilling the promise made in the rock-pillow vision.

My REI sit-pad turned pillow-wannabe didn’t yield any such spectacular visions of the Divine presence. But it did remind me that Jacob’s faithful, promising God is my God. This God has promised me, too, a place, a measure of protection, and His ongoing presence.