by Don Vermilyea
Bruce Springsteen recorded a song in the 1980s entitled "Tunnel of Love." "Cuddle up in the tunnel of love" is about all I remember from my favorite
Springsteen tune.The second week of July turned out to be very hot in Northern California. How hot was it? Try 114 degrees in the shade, 135 in the sun, and 150 on the black pavement my feet spent so much time caressing. Hot like I'd never experienced. Burning hot when I'd pick a coin up from the highway that ended up in my pocket. This was the opposite of the weather in Southern California four months earlier. Where were those frozen golf balls when I really needed one?
Although I'd been told by the California Highway Patrol to leave the freeways many times Interstate 5 was clearly the best alternative for reaching my destination of Grants Pass, Oregon by July 19th. I could have walked "cross country," the railroad tracks, or detoured more than 50 miles out of the way up into the mountains via another route. Praise God Oregon allows pedestrians to walk freeways. Walking has been easier since I crossed the state line.
As I crossed the long I-5 bridge over Shasta Lake an officer with the C.H.P. was waiting in his car for me. Every time the law has asked me to exit it's been a relatively pleasant experience until this time. There were no long conversations just "off the freeway."
My new route wasn't totally unfamiliar to me. I'd walked "cross country" before complete with seeds and stickers covering my socks and shoes. Also I'd scaled cliffs and embankments and walked the railroad tracks.
Step one was to walk the 150 feet through star thistles. These plants are two to three feet tall and have cute yellow flowers. Behind each flower is a pea sized ball with half inch needles like spikes all over it. I wear thin pants so my sweat will evaporate quickly. I can do torture for 150 feet if I have to.
Step two was negotiating the 50 foot embankment down to the tracks. It was time for some serious praying because this would be very dangerous with a walking partner and without seventy pounds on my back. Being by myself with a heavy load it was near impossible.
I wondered if anyone on Shasta Lake would hear my cries over the deafening roar of I-95 traffic. This was a place the walk might end. It took thirty minutes to negotiate my way through the manzanita bushes and large bare spots. I don't know if the manzanitas helped or hindered as it was a jungle in places.
Praise God I made it. My clothes were ripped. I was cut, bruised, and filthy from days of sweat and new found dirt from sliding, stumbling, and rolling down the embankment. Praise God for Shasta Lake for washing up and doing laundry.
After resting awhile and looking for a way to get down to the Lake I spied an ominous looking tunnel I'd have to enter. This made finding a camping place a no-brainer as it was late afternoon and I couldn't take any more excitement. Night brought prayers of thanksgiving and prayers for discernment to deal with the situations awaiting me the next day.
I was just about finished breaking camp when the train I called the 6:00 A.M. Amtrak went by and into the tunnel. I learned this was the only consistent train
on these tracks. The freight trains could arrive at any time.Studying the tunnel I observed there wasn't any light at the end of it, just total darkness. There was about one and one half foot of walking room between the walls and the area the train occupied.
This posed a real problem for me. Only a fool would enter total darkness with half used batteries in a penlight not knowing when the next train would arrive at 30-40 mph. It was time for more serious prayer.
After waiting an hour for another train to come I reasoned maybe another one wouldn't come all day so it was now or never.
It was unnerving to enter a tunnel that quickly becomes dark with only a tiny light. It became very unnerving when I tripped over the rotting deer and coyote carcasses that were strewn about. Those were some of the other fools who entered that tunnel at the wrong time. The stench of death was all around. It is scary when every water drip, every loud truck on I-5 becomes the train and death.
There isn't enough money on earth for me to enter this death chamber for material gain. I've never been so scared as I methodically and carefully placed each foot in the right place past the rubble and holes so I wouldn't fall down. Running was out of the question. I knew my 2 mph was no match for 30-40 mph trains.
Praise God for light. I could see a glimpse of light and figured out the tunnel must be curved. Finally I could see the light at the end of the tunnel which was still far away. Later I learned this tunnel was six football fields long (1800 ft).
I prayed the whole time in the tunnel and afterward prayed prayers of thanksgiving. Most of the whole day was spent in prayer as
there were six more tunnels to
negotiate from 650 to 2000 feet in length. Two of them were complete darkness like the first one. One train exited a tunnel five minutes after I did. Praise God for answered prayers. Trains could be five minutes or five hours apart.
There were numerous bridges that were equally narrow, but obviously not dark. Praise God for the ability to run the final 50 yards with the train bearing down on me.
While in the Los Angeles area I stayed with someone who worked on the "Fear Factor" TV show. While walking the tracks I wondered if any of the hard bodied contestants would strap seventy pounds on their back and go through those tunnels for the cash prize. I thought they wouldn't.
Just over the Oregon border I camped next to my last, at least to this point, tunnel. The State of Washington, that I'll enter today, doesn't allow freeway walking so I may have to walk the tracks again. I was told the trains only run at night on the R.R. tracks I camped next to that night. That tunnel, 2600 feet long, that I'd walked through the afternoon before had a train go through it at 6:30 A.M. It took ten minutes for the smoke to clear after the train was long gone. I don't know how a person could breathe if they survived not being run over first.
Am I crazy for choosing the route of the tracks. Maybe. Or, as always, does the Lord know better than we what is best for us? Why did I not get run over? Luck? I don't believe in luck. Why was the Sacramento River available to me from the tracks and not I-5 for cooling off six times a day? Why was I able to drink a gallon of water from three different creeks without purification and not get ill? Why were the camping spots excellent, safe, and numerous along the tracks? Why was there so much shade along the narrow cut of the tracks compared to the wide cut of I-5? Could it be the Lord knows more than us? Could it be if we ask for answers before our walk and truly listen for them we will be taken care of? I do believe so.
Could it be, as Springsteen sings "Cuddle up in the tunnel of love," we should cuddle up with God? I do believe so. Could it be that those of us with bright lights should use those lights to illuminate the paths of those of us stuck in dark tunnels (Matthew 5:14-16) ? I do believe so.
Till the next time ...
In Christ's love, Don
P.S. Cumulative miles 3309
Money from motorists $280.81
Money from the pavement $295.85
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