Goliath

            In the past, the weather gurus only gave names to hurricanes or tropical storms.  Since 2012, they have also given names to winter storms.  In each instance, a specific set of factors has to be met in order for a name to be assigned.  Right now winter storm “Goliath” is moving across the United States.  In the form of tornadoes, rain, sleet, ice and snow, “Goliath” has leveled neighborhoods, caused severe flooding, and left many without power as lines have fallen, in addition to contributing to major accidents and pileups on roads and highways.

            Today’s adventure in the storm started as a text to my cousins when I sent them a copy of a picture last evening that my Dad had from the opening of trout season back in 1971.  It was taken near Wolverine, Michigan on the ridge above the West Branch of the Sturgeon River.  It’s simple enough as it shows an old friend of my Dad (Lee Sperry) and his station wagon.  Apparently Lee had driven in, and then they had parked at the top of the hill and hiked down to the river (Dad’s journal says the water temperature was 39 degrees).  The crazy thing is that the picture was taken on the last Saturday of April.

Opening of Michigan's Trout Season-1971

            In the texting dialogue that transpired with my cousins, someone stated, “I thought we were dedicated.  We’re cupcakes compared to that.”  What we may lack in snow when we go out fishing, we make up for in endurance. (See Past Entry: “Bogged Down”)  I’m sure if we had the opportunity to fish in such conditions, we would.  The stories my Dad tells that ensued from that snow laden trip of 1971 are legendary; big brown trout and steelheads both caught and lost.  In addition, my Dad hooked a brown trout that wouldn’t even fit in to Mr. Sperry’s net.  He ended up losing it, but Mr. Sperry went back a few days later with twenty pound test line, caught it on his own, and only managed to store it in his freezer by bending its tail to fit it in.  Who wouldn’t want to be a part of an adventure and story like that?  Hence my texting response of, “Speak for yourself…it’s suppose to be nasty out tomorrow and I’m going to be out in it…guaranteed…and you know you’d join me if you lived closer.”  It was friendly texting banter, and set the challenge in place.

            It was about that time last night that my sister Becky showed me a quote she thought I might like from a cookbook she had just gotten as a gift (entitled “Scandinavian Christmas” by Trine Hahnemann).  It stated, “Remember there is no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong clothes.”  If you’ve read any of my blog entries from last winter you’d know I would agree with such a statement.  I’ll go out in most weather if I’m dressed for it.  With the storm that we had predicted for today, the correct clothing would make it great weather to be out in.  Perhaps that’s why the cousins texted today to see if I’d gone out.  They wanted to be a part of it.

            Unfortunately the outing today wouldn’t involve trout fishing since it wasn’t the right time of the year or season.  Fortunately I was able to get things together and head out for a few hours.  I debated on whether or not I would take our older dog, Kati.  She’s almost 85 years old now in human years.  She limps and moans more than she used to, but when it came down to it, I just couldn’t keep her back.  For as long as I’ve been hitting the woods and cooking out, she’s been with me.  I wouldn’t want someone to hold me back from going at that age, so in the end, I lifted her into the back of the Jeep with Kora (who leapt in as easy as a light, summer breeze).  It wasn’t really that long ago, maybe a year, that Kati would have jumped up and in just as easy.  You can’t blame Kora; it’s just that in her zest and zeal of adolescent nimbleness and quickness she doesn’t realize ole Kati would have matched her in her prime.  Luckily Kati doesn’t hold it against Kora and Kora listens and follows everything Kati tells her.  They are a perfect fit for each other.

Kati and Kora eagerly await the command "Come!"

            The ride out to the forest preserve was slow going as the roads were covered in snow and slush.  It had started at 6:00 this morning and had been consistently precipitating all day at a rather steady rate.  It wasn’t snow or rain that was falling, and I wouldn’t have called it sleet either.  Instead it was closer to little BB’s of ice.  Once parked, I put on my packs, took a quick picture of the dogs and then hit the trails.  We hiked through the hardwoods down to the river’s edge.  

Due to the unseasonably warm weather this winter, I couldn’t get through the wetland areas to places I like to visit.  Typically they are frozen over.  I could have thrown some logs across the waterways to walk on, but the dogs would have gotten wet and suffered.  Instead I worked my way upstream and eventually to the campground area where I decided to make a fire and cook a meal.

            Perhaps only two or three times out of all of the years I’ve cooked out in the winter have I had to resort to a match when I couldn’t get my flint and steel to work.  Today was not one of those days.  In fact, today was a first.  I couldn’t get a fire going with my flint and steel or the matches.  One other time did exist, when I was out with my friend Louie.  That, however, was more due to location and available tinder/wood supply, because even though we did get a fire started, we just couldn’t keep it going.  I worked at it quite a while today, with both tinder I had brought, and tinder I had collected, but it was too windy and everything was wet.  It was a “one-two punch” I couldn’t overcome.  By the time I finally looked up, Kati, who had lain down beside me, was covered with a layer of ice.  I apologized to both dogs and then packed up.  They had been looking forward to their cut of the meal I was going to cook.

            On the hike out I found some bark from a yellow birch tree.  I collected some and brought it up to the old, limestone picnic shelter made by the CCC back in the days between The Great Depression and World War II.  I tried to get a fire going in the shelter’s fireplace, since its roof and partially walled sides blocked some of the wind and precipitation, but it was still to no avail.  I was able to get a spark on my char cloth and produce a nice glowing ember with smoke, as I had back in the woods, but it just wouldn’t pop into flame.

            We continued our hike and piled back into the Jeep.  The dogs had done great.  Kora was a picture of energy and Kati seemed to gain strength the longer she was out in the elements.  By the end, Kati was steadily running and doing so without a limp from the arthritis.  You could tell she was proud of herself, and indeed she should have been.  I think Kora even took notice, and indeed she should have.  After letting Cindy know we were back to the Jeep, I was notified that I needed to pick up some pizza on the way home.  It’s one of the perks of living near civilization, especially when one can’t get a fire going.  Traveling out and back I averaged 35 to 40 miles per hour, under sub-par conditions, while driving in four wheel drive.

Once home, the dogs got their food!

I picked up pizza for the family on the way home

            Goliath won today, but have no fear, I’ll restock my tinder supply and chances are I’ll get a fire going the next time I try.  I had had visions of writing about how I had slain the giant of a storm, but sometimes the weather has other plans.  One must always be adaptable or risk serious consequences.  It’s probably best not to be vain because in light of the fact that as this storm has raced north and east across America, it has left people homeless and dead.  Obviously nothing can be done to conquer such power when unleashed to its fullest potential.  May the people affected so dramatically by the storm, find relief and peace.  Still, for the winds, temperatures and ice pellets I had to deal with here in Northern Illinois, it was definitely adventurous.  Perhaps someday I’ll go trout fishing in such circumstances; perhaps with my cousins.  Perhaps, like my Dad, we’ll catch brown trout of 12, 13 and 15 inches, see and lose some big steelhead, and battle an unseen brown in a deep, dark hole.  At this point I’ll simply be glad to get outside, have my dogs with me, get a fire started, and cook a meal.

            See along The Way…

The Gift

            Christmas this year was a day home with family.  We spent time with Cindy’s family yesterday and will with mine tomorrow, but today was with our immediate family.  We kicked Christmas off watching the movie entitled, “The Nativity” last night.  It’s a tradition that helps us remember the reason for the season, and why we do and believe what we do.  I’d highly recommend watching it.

            Many of us enjoy giving gifts this time of the year.  I suppose that’s why the saying goes, “It’s better to give than to receive.”  The process can be stressful to find something that the recipient will enjoy; something that matches their interests.  But when you find just the right gift, it feels good.  I think the whole idea of gift giving is symbolism and a model of what our Heavenly Father gave us.  Regardless of whether you believe this or not, the idea of God giving us His son, Jesus Christ, is a gift that is beyond our understanding.  It was a gift given sacrificially.  The idea of God being the Trinity, the Trifecta (Have I mentioned before how much I love that word?), is itself mysteriously wonderful.  God is three distinct parts and yet distinctly one.  He is the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  By sending his Son to Earth as a baby, an event known and expected through prophesy, he came in under the radar wholly God and yet wholly man.  Many in the day thought he would come as a king and help overthrow the Roman Empire and its grip on the known world.  Instead, the little boy Jesus, who was raised by a young girl and wood-worker, offered freedom of another kind.  His freedom came through sacrifice that gave us, the common man, a chance at forgiveness and second chances.  Even after his death and resurrection back into heaven, to be reunited with his Father, he promised to always be with us, if we accept our humanness and need for him while allowing the Holy Spirit into our heart.  It’s nothing fancy.  We don’t have to do anything; in fact we can’t.  How strange in a world where we constantly want to do something, that when it comes to eternal salvation, the only “doing” is admitting, believing and committing to following him as best we can.  Due to our humanness it will never be perfect, but we press on and with that ultimate gift of forgiveness, given with grace and full of mercy, we utter those words we often hear when we give our loved ones and friends a gift; “Thank you.”

            And so on a day where a few gifts were given and received, time was spent together, and we remember the reason we have Christmas, I say, “Thank you God for giving us your son as a gift; the ultimate gift who became the sacrifice on our behalf.”

            See you along The Way…

PS-The Lauren Daigle Song “Noel” (Below) is well worth the listen...You may have to "Skip" through the Ad in the beginning.

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The pictures are from this afternoon’s family hike with the dogs at Sugar River Forest Preserve-On Christmas Day 2015.

Winter Solstice

            It was the shortest day of the year yesterday; Monday, December 21st.  We’re a land of seasons, here in the Midwest of North America; a temperate climate.  We don’t get the extreme cold like they do at the “poles” of our planet.  Nor do we get the extreme heat like they do around the equator.  Instead we are the recipients of both worlds, both the cold and the warm temperatures; although moderately so, compared to the ends (or middle) of the Earth.  In addition, we also have more of the “in between” spring and autumn weather; the time when the Earth’s tilt, in relation to its revolution, is halfway between its lean toward or away from the sun.  Some explain our seasons by saying our tilt changes, but in reality it’s all about the revolution.  The actual tilt remains the same.  If our tilt changed as we revolved, we’d be stuck in the same season; probably irritatingly so, like an old vinyl record that skips.  I suppose it’s like “two rights make a wrong,” or two factors in an experiment that skews the outcome.  Basically, when all of the scientific jargon is stripped away, it’s the seasons that make life interesting.  It’s the change of seasons that we look forward to.

            And so on this day, the shortest day of the year known as the winter solstice, the sun was scheduled to rise at 7:22 am and set at 4:26 pm.  This was when the sun was expected to rise and set, if you could see it through the steady rain and thick cloud cover.  For two years now we’ve had a cold, snowy winter like those of my youth in Northern Michigan, but not this year; El Niño.  I can’t complain, we’re at least getting the moisture, albeit in the form of rain, but when we go for weeks at a time without seeing the sun, and we couple that with shorter and shorter days, I need to get outside to the woods.  It’s typically hard to get outside this time of the year when it’s dark as I leave for school and dark when I return home.

            I grew up going to the cedar swamps or pines with my Dad and our beagle dogs to hunt snowshoe hares.  At the time, my gun was a little wooden one he had made for me.  When my kids were younger I took them to a friend’s hardwood forest to hunt squirrels and familiarize them to guns, life, death and sitting still in the woods.  They sat with a little wooden gun I had made them.  Not everything that moved was shot.  Most times I observed and let it pass.  I saw deer and red tailed hawks within only a few feet, foxes, coyotes, and of course the squirrels.  What squirrels I did decide to shoot, we ate.  Growing up, it was Mom’s great cooking that filled our palate with mouth watering goodness.  With my own family, we fixed the squirrels in a slow cooker with cream of mushroom soup, potatoes, and carrots.  The words and actions of my then toddler kids became legendary within the ranks of the extended family.  Todd’s response was him holding out his plate and saying point blank, “More squirrel please.”  Jodi simply gave him a sideways look and spit shot out of her mouth, and onto her plate, before taking another bite.  Both were classic responses.  Quite a few years have slipped by since the last time I hunted though, and it was time to head back out.

            Yesterday I got together with a teaching colleague of mine.  We decided to go hunting.  To most it wouldn’t seem like a very big deal, but for Chuck and me, it is something we’ve been talking about for a while.  State land to hunt on in the “Land of Lincoln” is in short supply.  Most land in Illinois is private and often planted in corn or soybean.  Chuck and I headed toward a small portion of land we found that was actually open to the public, to hunt squirrels and cotton-tailed rabbits.  By the time we arrived, the rain had quit, and although there were patches of fog, the temperatures were in the mid 40’s with only a touch of wind.

The Ridge Overlooking the Hollow & River Valley

            We hiked into two different, steep-sided hollows, under a canopy of oaks, walnuts and red cedar, and sat as still as possible looking up into the branches or down into the ravine.  We saw two big bucks, turkeys and bald eagles; but no squirrels.  There were the sounds of drips off the trees but no scurrying squirrels.  Actually that’s not entirely true.  In the second hollow I didn’t sit as still as I could.  I sat for over an hour picking small, sticky burr-seeds off my pants, coat and gloves.  They were everywhere.  I think they were the seeds from the plant known as “tick trefoil.”  Even so, I hunted with my ears while busy with the annoying burrs I had evidently walked into while in route to a log to sit on.  I didn’t hear any sounds of squirrels, but I did hear the crows chasing the eagle with the fish that Chuck did see off to the left of the ridge we were on.

            After sitting for about forty-five minutes in the first ravine and then over an hour in the second ravine, we made our way down into a valley with a winding river.  The scene was beautiful.  The skies were still gray and dark; but with areas of green grass next to grayish-brown bushes and trees, set in front of sapphire-blue water tipped white from rapids and a wall of rock, it was impressive.

            As we walked along the bank, a big gray squirrel finally showed itself and tried running up a walnut tree.  Chuck was able to drop it, and we skinned it out right there.  I like to look at hunting as a harvest.  I enjoy nature; in fact I thrive on it.  I also like to partake of it from time to time with an occasional meal of fish or red meat.  So if I decide to catch and keep, or pull the trigger, I try to do it as respectfully as possible.  It is a gift that should not be taken lightly.  

Chuck with a Bushy-Tailed Gray Squirrel

From there we continued up river until we came to the edge of another wooded area lined with thick brush.  Chuck spotted a cottontail moving into the thicket, and after waiting a moment for a clear shot, I downed it.  We cleaned it out right there as well.  It had a lot of meat on it.  I rinsed it off, along with my hands, in the river and then we started the hike back.  We walked through a thick, marshy area to see if we could kick up some other rabbits, to no avail, before heading back up through the hills to my Jeep.

Cotton Tailed Rabbit

Making use of Moving Water

            We spent well over six hours in the woods and lowland, enjoying periods of talking, periods of walking, and periods of the kind of silence only nature can provide.  We each gained some meat that we will cook as a meal later this winter.  Although it was a rather dark and dreary day afield, it provided us the chance to get out, the chance to hunt, and the chance to be in the woods and share the experience together.  It’s a day known as the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice, and thankfully the days will now grow longer and lighter from here on out.

            See you along The Way…