Ramble On

“The world off trail is by and large a delicious secret, and will return to that in no more time than it takes for the sound of our footsteps to fade into the forest.”

Gary Ferguson (Walking Down The Wild-1993)

"The Walking Man" sculptured by Auguste Rodin

Cast in 1900

Pictured taken while visiting the 

Art Institute of Chicago - Dec. 2016

            For the past week the weather reports for today looked bleak at best.  It was supposed to be in the mid 30’s, and they predicted that heavy rain and thunderstorms were probable.  Last night, after an evening of parent/teacher conferences at school, and preparing food until almost midnight, I set to work in the garage gathering equipment, packing away dried grasses to use as nesting material for my flint and steel, breaking up kindling sticks, and storing firewood in old dog food bags (plastic and waterproof).  While the rain drummed steadily, lightning flashed menacingly, and the thunder rumbled on, I designed a system of holes on an old sled so that I could lash the wood fuel down.  It would be necessary to have dry firewood when the Gulo Adventure Clan gathered in the morning for their traditional winter hike.  At the same time, the load on the sled needed to be secure enough to pull through fields, forests, and bottomlands while being able to withstand the knocking around it would take as it was heaved up and over the various debris found in such environs.  The old sled had worked when I went out in the rain a few weeks ago, but it needed revision. (See past blog: Day Camp In The Rain) Originally we had planned on hiking across a frozen lake and through a dogwood-strewn marsh today, but due to the unseasonably warm temperatures this winter, that adventure is going to be saved for a colder day in a different year.

            As the morning came into fruition, the meteorologist’s ploy met Mother Nature’s fancy.  It was not so much a duel, as much as a win-win for both sides.  The cold and misty rain met our group as we gathered in the driveway, but the lightning stayed at bay; having exhausted itself hours before on what typically is a snowy month.  We packed our gear into about five different back packs, and then loaded it into the back of Joe’s Suburban and my Jeep.  My dog Kora jumped into the back, peering over the seat while whining with excitement.  It was time to ramble on into our rugged adventure.

            Starting out across a prairie, we burned off our initial excitement and energy.  Seven of us braved the elements on what would be deemed a nasty day by most accounts; cold and wet with a dampness that seeped into you.  Most of the guys noted that if it wasn’t for the invitation, the out-of-doors would have been the last place they probably would have been.  You could smell the rain, and from the trails that were easy to traverse, we descended into a thick, grassy marsh.  We had to high step in it, giving our quadriceps and hip flexors a workout.  Once in the bottomlands, our ingenuity was put to the test.  Water was flowing deep in several channeled low spots, and although Kora simply jumped and splashed through them, we threw logs and tree trunks over them to form bridges we could tightrope across.  The mist continued falling.  We were getting tired from the loads we were hauling, and working up a sweat, yet still we rambled on.

            We followed the river until we met drainage off an oxbow that was too deep and wide for us to cross.  It was the end of the line, and a good place to set up camp.  The nice thing with having numerous guys along, besides acting as Sherpa’s and hauling in the extra gear and firewood needed for a day like today, was that it didn’t take long to hang a tarp that Scott had carried in his pack and arrange an area to call home for a few hours.  Amazingly I went from two strikes on my flint and steel, to flames on the grass tinder in a matter of seconds.  I was glad I had prepared the necessary dry fuel sources last night.  Justin unloaded the 12 pound iron skillet from his pack, and Ted handed us the food pack he had been carrying on his back.  We soon had the fire ripping, and Wes dove in to man the skillet; sacrificing his hands to the heat and his face to the smoke to keep stirring the ingredients as I added them.  Doug handed me the water he had packed in, and we soon put that to boil in an aluminum pot my Dad had recently repaired.  We were bound and determined to actually have “hot” chocolate this year as opposed to lukewarm.

           Once the food was ready, I shared a bit from a sermon I had heard last week while visiting my son at college.  It applied to the “Fruit of the Spirit” (Galatians 5:22-23): love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control.  These are all things that we can develop as character traits; traits that we can share with family, friends, colleagues, and the students that we interact with at school.  The perspective I had gained in that sermon was how these traits can be likened to a cluster of grapes; not achieved one at a time or in singularity, but lived out together as one unit.  The parts together equal the whole of our spirit as an application of synergy.  All aspects of our selves work together; mind, body, and spirit.  As Henry David Thoreau once said, “Our life is but the Soul made known by its fruits, the body.” (The Heart of Thoreau’s Journals-Entry from June 21, 1840)

            Likewise, our group had come together today, and in one spirit after hiking, we wolfed down the food.  An apple had been our only holdover until we were able to gorge on the main meal, and so we attacked the meal with vengeance; Kora included.  We washed it down with some orange juice.  As our conversation continued over the crackling fire, we were surprised when we removed the lid from the aluminum pot; the water was in a roiling boil.  Hot chocolate indeed!

            Soon after, the Sherpa’s went to work and camp was quickly broken down.  The tarp hadn’t really been necessary, but it had been available in case we were in dire straits and needed it.  We doused the fire, reloaded our packs (albeit lighter now than on our way in), and lashed the remaining supplies to the sledge.  As Joe grabbed a hold of the reins to the sled to begin our journey out, he reminded us that we needed to take our group picture.  The picture has become a tradition of our outings that allows us to mark the progress we hold dear over the years of our friendships.

Mist on a prairie plant

            And so, as we backtracked and talked our way out of the wilds, it was with smiles; both from the experience and the effort it took to hike the 3^ish miles in and 3^ish miles out.  The wood smoke that had permeated our skin would remain with us throughout the day.  It would remain as a constant and vivid reminder of our adventure.  As our footsteps faded from the forest, our spirits rambled on.

            See you along The Way…

Crank it up!