2011 Music Pass Colorado

This was our 4th trip together as Backpacking Blood Brothers. The fires of New Mexico chased us to Colorado this time to the top of the Sangre de Cristo (Blood of Christ) mountain range. Music Pass Colorado was our destination with its several peaks that could be climbed from Music Mountain to Milwaukee Peak.

Every year we face obstacles that seem to threaten our trips: vehicles, budgets, fires, and this year blood pressure. However we have adopted a credo, "were just going." Why do we go? Is it the same desire that Moses had in wanting to see God up on the mountain top? Why the mountain top?

Looming in the smoky haze up from desert floor is raised behemoth booms with vaulted grim Music Mountain we see your rim. Will you eat us in one bite? or will we scale your peaking heights? It’s all unknown on our approach The mountain's music must be our coach. Tracing peaks on a topo map, sure at first, but then we scrap and reassess our whereabouts to pave new paths like Indian scouts.

But hark and lo and behold and see Music Mountain's majesty! and all her peers that pierce heaven leave us stunned, shocked and riven Glorifying the one who made such spectacular colonnades. Who else could render such majesty from a worldwide tragedy? On the shoulder of Music Mountain the climbers drink from trout lake fountains. Ever higher to rugged glory they pray to LIVE and tell their story. So why, one asks, do you climb so high? "To learn dependence" is our reply. Each wild step leads closer to death But also to Him who gives us breath.

At break of dawn our sirens shrill prayers are prayed for God's will. More mountain views on which we dine blood binds brothers in upward climb. Some don't listen, so fail to hear. They fall to their death with screams of fear. But the whisper is near. "You can make it!" speaks the flower to the soul that’s naked. Crushing stones are looming tall, Stumbling stones spell dooming falls but the Corner Stone, he marks the way with cairns to care ‘till the final day bodies creaking, legs are moaning our doubts are waning and courage toeing the fine thin line inside our minds. “I’m always here,” the Lord reminds "Don't look up all the way to the top, just step in His step and don't you stop.” Till we summit the summit of our fears and find the cairn God placed for us there! The Christ of Sangre, Sangre de Christo You made music, and for that we thank you. Jesuchristo, con rojo Sangre hizo las montanas, tambien.

2010 Santa Fe Baldy

Hey there, brother, let me lighten your load bear your burden on this old road this trail to the top sings its song its the music of the mountains to which we belong A wandering elk through the columbine dew then after the dusk fall the storms brew but not before the children spin and play falling on each other 'neath the milky way In the dark night God walks like thunder angel-bright lightening announces His wonder Pinon pine wounds make little amber gems they speak of early earth and the judgment of its sins Hey there brother can you see the aspen leaves? they quake and drop their dew in shimmering belief that the columbines below will drink from Aspen falls as my brother giggles " it's a small world after all." wandering crew is just goin' to the top blister, sting, swelling- brother don't stop a thousand feet up to Nambi sky cliff lake where one goes under to clean off his slate Hear the silence of mosquitos by redeeming bat wings hear the voice of many waters the symphonic stream brings let Him bind us together one, two, three He's in the chord and the melody Hey there brother, can you listen to its song? It's the music of these mountains to which we belong!