We got to the beach at about 8:40am. Jordan, DJ, Bill, and myself. Luckily we had arrived prior to most of the old, very overweight Europeans in their bikinis and speedos [gagging]. Jordan was going to spend a little time in the water and a lot of time napping in the sun. DJ was there to get his few hours of sun and sand and saltwater…his fix, if you will, then he’d be set for a year or so. Bill was there, well Bill was there to sit in the shade for a little bit and then go to lunch.
And me? I was there because I had a mission.
I was going on an adventure, and I was going alone. At about 8:45, I set off jogging on down the beach …no shoes, no shirt, no problem. My goal was way off in the distance – a mountain down at the end of the beach (in reality, it’s probably more accurate to call it a large hill, but I’m from flatland Houston, so it was a mountain). It had been beckoning to me for the past four days, and I could no longer resist its siren call. I had no real clue how far away it was nor how long it would take to get there…nor if I would even be able to climb up it. It ended up taking a solid forty minutes of running to get there, including ten minutes of slogging through a foot and a half of water where there was no beach. By that time my toes were starting to get that raw-potentially-blistered feeling…apparently barefoot through sand and saltwater will do that.
Anyway. So I arrive at the base of the mountain/hill. Looks pretty typical as I climb the first set of steps – just a few shops and some tourists, next door is a resort. Then I turn a corner and –BAM!!– I’m staring up at forty-foot tall golden Buddha! Turns out there are a few Buddhist temples on the slopes here, supported by some of the shops and massage places on the hill (“Massage for you sir?” “Only if it’s free, I got no money!”). As I continued to climb up the steps I saw on my left a big rock outcropping, and so I climbed up it to see what I could see. As I stood on the giant boulder, I realized I had possibly the best view of the beach and the city that anyone could have. It was incredible! Down below me was the beautiful turquoise water, and to my left was the beach as far as the eye could see. I was, for lack of a better word, in awe. In awe of God; of His creation; of the fact that He gave me this opportunity to see it; of His love for all of us. And then, almost without thinking – like I could hardly help it – I started praying out loud for the city, for our L-Squad, and for myself. I paced around the rock, arms outstretched and moving, speaking words of life over all the people in Hua Hin. I prayed, I pleaded, I interceded, I asked forgiveness, I cried out, and my Spirit groaned on my behalf. [Mind you, I don’t do this. I sort of think people who pray out loud with their arms raised in public are kind of crazy and weird.] But I honestly could not NOT pray…everything in me needed to talk to the Lord at that moment.
My adventure was not over yet though! I still wasn’t at the peak of the mountain/hill, so I kept heading up. I got to the top of the steps, was walking to higher ground, and as I was looking out at the ocean I heard a couple dogs barking. I thought to myself, “Good grief I am so tired of stupid stray dogs!” Then I turned around and realized these were not just stray dogs. Definitely not. In fact, they reminded me of the mutated dogs in the movie I Am Legend. One of them began to walk towards me, barking and snarling and baring his teeth/fangs. I began to take in my surroundings…dark green jeeps, large rotating satellite, radio tower…aaaaaand the realization hit that I had stumbled onto a Thai military base. Oops! I slowly backed away, facing the angry mutated military-trained dog and keeping my eyes on him, half-certain that he was about to attack. Finally, I got out of his territory and he stopped (my heart rate did not, however).
I decided that was my sign to head back down to the shore. Good choice, Matthew.
Once I got down to the base of the hill, I thought, “Hey! Those rocks and boulders covering the shoreline look like fun! I’m gonna go climb around down there.” So I did, and it was fantastic! I climbed and jumped and roamed on down the seashore for about an hour until my feet started to remind me that they were made of skin and muscle and tissue, not leather or rubber. After examining my feet and finding two blisters, two blood blisters, and one bruise, I decided it might be time to head back. Slightly disappointed, I pulled myself away from the solitude of my rocky kingdom, and headed back down the beach to find my compadres.
…and all of that before lunch.
There are some days that can only happen on the World Race.
This might have been one of them.
