As I hiked through Icehouse Canyon on the descent from Cucamonga Peak, I stopped and paid a visit to a spring about 1.5 miles from Icehouse Saddle. The Icehouse Canyon trail isn’t one of my favorites, but what motivates me to travel that route is that cool and refreshing spring just off the trail. I’m not sure if the spring has an official name; there isn’t a sign marking it. Someone pointed it out to me on a previous hike and that’s how I knew where to find it. I have given it the name “Hope Springs.” The water is very pure and doesn’t have to be filtered, although it’s always recommended to filter any water you wish to drink in the wilderness.
While two guys filled their bottles, a lady took a sip out of hers and exhaled, smacking her lips with satisfaction. Then I heard her say, “This is God’s water. It comes straight out of the mountain.” I sat and pondered her words for a moment. When I went to fill my hydration bladder and bottle, I took my time and stared at the spring. I observed the people who had gathered with their bottles to wait their turn to be refreshed by the ice-cold water. For a brief moment, I felt somewhat greedy for taking so much water. But then I realized how silly it was of me to think such a thing. That water constantly runs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year, and it never stops, never runs out. If it were possible, I could have brought a bathtub and filled it with water. There was enough water for everyone.
As I watched the endless supply of water pour out of the rock, the words of a song by one of my favorite bands, came to mind, “Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me.” I thought of all the times I got jealous or envious of someone who got to experience something that my heart deeply longed for, as if that thing I longed for would eventually run out if so many people were ahead of me in line.
That epiphany brought so much joy and hope as it refreshed my soul. As a matter of fact, when I named the spring “Hope Springs,” one of the things I declared over it was that whoever drank from the spring would be filled with hope. I guess that included me because I had given up hope on some things I held dear to my heart, but just as that spring never fails, never stops, never runs out, my hope will never fail, never give up, never run out, because the Giver of hope never fails, but remains the same, constant, always.
Hike on. And remember, if you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space.
2 thoughts on “Tales of the Trails: Hope Springs”
hi, Joyce… That spring is called Columbine Springs. It used to be more prominent before the trail was rerouted many years ago.
Hi, Michael. There is no sign there so I didn’t think the spring had an official name. Thanks for letting me know. 🙂