I didn’t feel like swing dancing; I was merely killing time before 11:30pm. That’s when I would go to my first ever Pascha (Easter) service at an Orthodox Church. My expectations were dashingly high as I had known about it for over a year and a half before this night. 

I parked on the shoulder of the dirt road that’s joined to Love Lane, it was packed full with cars. I expected there to be a lot of people but this was nuts. I walked in and the lights in the nave of the church were all turned off. Everybody standing elbow to elbow holding unlit candles. I was getting so excited I could hardly focus on the words being read. Our shepherd was leading us into an unknown field.

Verily, verily I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall onto the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. John 12:24

Saturday night begins in death; Sunday morning ushers in an unexpected evensong of light. Father David lit the first candle and passed the resurrection flame to those nearest in proximity. The lights danced about then spread like dominos falling, one then the other until all were lit. The chior sang an enchanting hymn which I have yet to hear in its glorius brevity:

“Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life.”

Those closest to the front began to walk towards the rear exit. A line hundreds of people long wrapping around the outside of the church. Repeating that same chorus. This time without the help of the choir. It would grow faint and then pick up again but never resounding fully until we circled for the third time, forming a crowd at the entry way. This time, All the lights were on. 

We continued the chorus, but I had expected yelling, and I was slightly let down that there wasn’t any. We went into the bright church. Beautiful hymns were sung and Father David went around joyously sensing (with insense) everyone claiming Christ is risen in 15 different languages. Oui Oui. Every 5 to 10 mins this would happen. Here is a taste of the tone of the night:

Some highlights include the John Crystosom homily that had me discreetly fist pumping, and the John 1 reading about the unconquerable Light that came into the darkness. The Light came to all mankind, and the ones who regcognize and believe are given the right to be children of God, not by the will of flesh and men, but through the will of God.

I had to pee for so long but didn’t want to miss any so I waited until everyone went to partake in the divine mysteries, which went by quickly for there being so many people. I settled back in and there was a distinct chared smell in the air. Someone’s hair had breiefly lit on fire, and they were laughing about it like it happens every year.

The service ended with a quick blessing and he cautioned people to remain sober enough that if Christ returned that night all would have have the awareness, and to not to abuse the feast but to celebrate and have fun, or in other words, enjoy yourselves, don’t get blitzed.

I, for one, was wanting a drink. I thought there would be vodka and wine going around like there was at the Pentecost service in Argentina. But it was more of a BYOB. So I asked the choir director for a shot of vodka. He complied. Then I went out to the heated tent. I got offered a beer, looked through some night vision that an someone in the national gaurd had brought, and went around talking to different groups of people. The time passed by and dawn approached timidly.

We sat around the campfire while the greater fire started to show itself and the coming day. It was a time not of foolerly or an excuse to drink as I think it might be percieved by some other Churches in the valley, no, it was a time of celebrating the things that matter most. Making merry together, yelling about our risen Lord. 

I drove home to an amazing sunrise full of joy. I wasn’t the only one either, the sun and the clouds seemed happy too. My roommate said he smelled the insense, but I bet it was actually the tobacco smoke and campfire combination.

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PART II

Oh it doesn’t end there though. At 9:15am I got woken up in a dazey, deep sleep; reality’s fuzzy edges were all I could see with my squinting eyes, until they came into focus on a young, smiling face.

Hudson and I had planed a tentative Bike Ride in Yellowstone national park. I told him I might bail because of Pascha, but I went anyways. We got the bikes in the car and then we picked up a bike pump from walmart. The ride went by pretty quickly. Upon entering Gardiner we saw some elk at the north entrance and made our way down over to Mammoth where the road was closed to cars. That would be our starting point. I should not have had that beer and zyn right before the ride. But it was pascha come on. We saw a woodpecker peck some wood…classic. Immediately, there was a tough climb and I had a chain mishap in a windy canyon near a cool waterfall that Hudson said looked like a bridal veil. We got up to Swan Flat, towards its end where we entered back into the forest, it started raining, then sleeting, then absolutely dumping snow and ice on us. We were soaking wet and genuinely mad for following the bision’s lead: if you walk into a storm you will eventually walk out of it. They know that instinctually. And that is just what we did. The skies cleared and for thirty minutes and we were in heaven. The birds were excitedly flying around the trees as we glided on our bicycles as the road was shedding its moisture in the form of steam. The thing about weather is that it never lasts forever. Especially springtime in a high plateau of the Rocky Mountains. The grey skies above zapped our exuberant spirits along with the steady climbing that wore out my legs which had been all but atrophied from the winter, thanks to some pick up basketball.

Then came even more hills, and some more weather but no where near the torrent we rode through earlier. We made it to Twin Lake, got some snacks and decided that would be a great spot to turn around. (Picture 1)

I fotgot all about the uphills as I flew down the winding canyon roads with rivers on my right and mountains that bottled lightning on my left.

Key Stats

• 2+ hours standing
• 30 miles on the bike
• I went to sleep at 8:00pm that night after destroying some ihop.

The full John Crystosom Homily for those curious: HERE