Siberia Hut

"Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup. You have made my lot secure" Psalm 16: 5.

It was a long, hard day. The night before we had all slept on a few mattresses pushed together on a cabin floor, so that morning, knowing the second hut had even fewer bunks, we hurried, hoping we would make it in time to snag a bed.

We got lost in the valley. Only finding our way when someone's good eyesight would spot an orange pole sticking out of the brush. We filled up our water bottles for the last time on the valley floor and looked to the mountain above us, knowing the next few hours would not be fun.

They were not. We zigzagged back and forth for what seemed like hours. More fit hikers passing us every now and then, prodding us along with kind words and smiles. We were thirsty, hungry, hot in the direct sun, and tired. So tired.

At the top, we relaxed, relieved to have survived the worst of the day. We ate a lunch of crackers and peanut butter and built snowmen and laughed at each other, thinking the day was almost done. We told Mor we would save him a bunk if we arrived before him, and he returned the promise with a laugh. We knew we had to hurry.

The way down was steep. My knees hurt, and my ankles, and my bottom when I fell down the rocky path. We got grumpy.

We reached a stream and watched the boys splash and play. We waited in the grass, wanting to move along, but wanting to rest our legs and our shoulders, tired from carrying our packs. Finally we continued through the grassy flats, unable to see where our path ended. The sandflys came out, adding to our weariness. The farther we plodded along, the more certain we became that we would be sleeping on the ground that night.

Finally, after a couple of river crossings, we arrived at the hut with wet feet and sore limbs. The hut was so small and simple, but it looked so welcoming. We hurried inside, eager to escape the sandflys, but soon our joy disappeared. All the beds had been claimed—a pillow here, a jacket there. We set our packs on the porch and searched them for fresh clothes and soap, then slowly peeled off our boots and socks.

After a dip in the frigid river we headed back to the hut, determined to at least secure a sheltered spot on the floor. Mor greeted us as we pulled out our sleeping bags. "Why are you outside?" he asked in his broken English. We explained that all the beds were taken, and he broke into a huge smile. "But they're yours. I saved them for you like I said."