Sunrise - Sunset

            Not everything in life is glamorous, glitzy, or adventurous.  Much of life is mundane.  You still rock it out.  You still put one foot in front of the other, and do your best.  I say this in case you regularly read the blog entries that I post.  I’m not here to rain on your parade; I just don’t want you to think every outing goes according to plan, or that the little things I do are always exciting.  Sometimes life is just life.  A majority of life consists of the things that happen between the sunrise and sunset; the things that need to be done, should be done, or that we want done.  Outside of the immediate family, or myself personally, most of what is done really has no relevancy.  Like the things that have happened this last week.

            It was the finish line for the third quarter at school, and report cards were coming out at the end of the week.  I spent quite a few days and nights in a row playing catch up on correcting papers, homework, and tests.  While at school, I had the students designing and making their “Paddle to the Sea” boats that we release on the moving waters at the environmental learning center we will be attending in a another week or so.  Through the contact information that we attach to the boats, people let us know when and where they find them along their river journey down to the Gulf of Mexico. 

            This week now, our spring break has been a catch-up week.  Health wise, I find myself fighting off a pesky cold that has tried to get the best of me.  So far I’ve been able to hold it at bay, and seem to be gaining on it as the only time it really bothers me much is when I’ve gone to bed.  Because of the extra energy needed to regain my strength, I’ve taken several naps.  I feel like it’s time well spent to not only get the upper hand, but energy I can then bank to make the final push once this break is complete and the sprint is made towards the end of the school year.  In addition, I’ve been reading like crazy.  For hours at a time in fact, I spent the weekend reading a Charles Martin book entitled Chasing Fireflies.  I like this author and his style of writing, as he reveals the storyline around well developed characters.  That particular story was a good example of why quality father figures, a family structure, and supportive relationships are so important.

Rain picture courtesy of Jodi Rhines

            On Sunday morning I ran a little over seven miles.  It was drizzly, and otherwise nasty.  It has been since our spring break began.  So, I decided to make the most of it.  It was enjoyable running the trail.  Afterwards, Cindy, Jodi, and I attended a church to hear Michael Chitwood speak.  He is the director for “Team World Vision” that I’ve run a couple of marathons for.  We enjoyed hearing his story and sensing his passion.  We bought his book, The Ability to Endure, and now I’m almost finished with that as well.  I’ve already gleaned a lot of information from his perspective and experiences.  I found that I relate to it in my own way, and I am looking forward to sharing it with others.

            The list of mundane “life stuff” marches on.  I’ve communicated with my son Todd, who has really taken some big strides as a young man.  I’m proud of him and what he is doing.  

I’ve been varnishing our Paddle to the Sea boats at school each day.  It provides me with an excuse to get the dogs out, and feed my classroom pets at the same time.  I’ve painted some cabinets in my garage, and we took our Jeeps into have them worked on as it’s been a while since they were greased, oiled, and had their filters changed.  As a side bar, we went to Nicholas Conservatory in Rockford.  It was a chance to do something sort of exciting while we were waiting for the vehicles to be worked on.  We took some pictures of the exotic plants and flowers, and walked through the butterfly garden.  This was the first time I’ve visited this Rockford landmark since it was remodeled.  

A Zebra Longwing

Heliconia Lobster Claw

A Common Buckeye

Cindy and I 

I also sat in the East Branch of the Rockford Public Library, reading and writing, while Cindy and Jodi shopped for a prom dress.  During the afternoon, when the sun finally showed itself, I collected rocks from my friend’s field to use for landscaping.

            Those are the highlights, if indeed they can be thought of as highlights.  They are the little things our family or I have done.  They are the things of note in between relaxing and watching reruns of “The Andy Griffith Show” or “M*A*S*H” this last week or so.  They are what happens between the sunrise and sunset of any given day or week; the days and weeks between the next adventure.

            It reminds me of my first and last day trout fishing on one of my favorite creeks last year.  It was on moving liquid that I refer to as my “Home Waters.”  You may remember that I’ve written about its waters before (See blog: "Home" Waters).  I don’t go there often these days, but it’s where I honed my skills at trout fishing, and so I like to keep track of what’s going on there a few times out of the year anyway.  It’s the kind of place I hold dear to my heart; where I hate seeing the footprints of others, and where I’ve kept and released a host of trout.  I probably kept more in the early days because I was so excited to catch them, and I release more now because I’m so excited to know they are still there and thriving.

            The first time I went to my creek last year it was shortly after sunrise and downright cold.  Snow was on the ground, and occasionally in the air.  For some reason I decided to wear my hip boots instead of my waders.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  All told I caught 6-7 brown trout and released them all.  Most were around 11 to 12 inches.  I did catch one beautifully thick 17 ½ inch brown that I took a picture of, and then a video, as I slipped it back into the water.  Toward the end I did get snagged, and in trying to free my spinner, I took in water.  I ended up losing the lure and had to pour the river from my boots after wringing it out of my socks.  I fished for a while longer but ended up having to walk out with what felt like club feet because I couldn’t feel anything.  Everything below my ankles had turned white as well as a couple of my fingers.  Darn frostbite.  It was well worth the trip, but it was painful at the end.  I went home and took a warm shower, ate lunch, and then napped to recover adequately.

            The last time I went to my creek in 2016, it was shortly before sunset and downright miserable on that late fall day.  After school I finished some work, gathered my gear, and headed out.  After hiking in through a driving rain and a cold breeze, I entered the water.  It was not great fishing, and plus, I didn’t have a lot of time.  I was limited by time because it would soon be getting dark, and the light I had was sketchy at best through the thick gray cloud cover.  In addition, I still had to get my son Todd from college that evening.  I was bringing him home for his fall break.  I did manage to catch a few fish, the biggest being a 13 inch brown.  Although I never took on water, as I wore waders that time, I was soaked and chilled by the time I hiked out under a fading sunset.  I got home not a moment too soon, so I could change, grab a sandwich, and then drive the 76 miles to go get Todd.  We enjoyed catching up and talking on the return trip home, making it back in time for me to get into bed around 11:00.  I still had school the next morning and was beat after all of the day’s activities.

            Life can be mundane, and yet interesting in its own rite.  Those daily occurrences that seem so simple and menial to some, because it’s a daily routine between the sunrise and sunset of any given time period, are what make us unique and different when looked at through the eyes of anyone else.

            See you along The Way…

All I Really Need To Know I Learned While Trout Fishing

                Seven months ago I drove to west central Wisconsin to go trout fishing.  It was Saturday the 13^th to be exact, and school was about to begin in two days.  I wanted to squeeze in one more outing.  I probably had convinced myself that I needed one more outing.  They say you learned everything you need to know for life while attending kindergarten, but I beg to differ.  I’m not knocking kindergarten; like any good pyramid, you need a strong base or else everything’s going to crumble.  Plus, I know some kindergarten teachers, and they sell out to do what they need to do, to provide these little ones everything they need to know at age 5 or 6.  Thinking back to that trip, however, I realize that fishing taught me everything I needed to know.  Granted, I’m a bit older now, and rather removed from my elementary school days, but think of the wisdom, background experience, and prior knowledge I could apply to any given situation as a result of what I learned.  You don’t have that applicable knowledge when you’re only half a decade old.  And so I left early in the morning, and drove North with a revision from Robert Fulghun’s poem in my mind.  (See the link for the original poem at: Kindergarten Poem)

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            Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned while trout fishing.  Wisdom was not found within formal schooling, but in standing in cold, clear water.  These are the things I learned:

            “Share everything.”  This includes the stream, even when you’ve driven for three hours to have it to yourself.  Apparently even when two middle aged guys hop out of a truck, and are already getting their gear together when you drive up to the gravel pullover at daybreak.

            “Play fair, and don’t hit people.”  Even when you’ve come to this creek numerous times and nobody has ever been there before, and you’re slightly ticked off.  Talk about the creek with the fellow fisherman and ask where they’re planning to start; all while trying to hover under your open back hatch to avoid a driving rain.  What other knucklehead would dare to venture here under such conditions?  What knuckleheads, since there were two of them.  Didn’t they know I had been planning on fishing that morning?  I was disappointed to see another living soul at that point.

            “Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.”  The two men didn’t know what I was saying, or plotting in my mind, so I apologized to the Man upstairs.   I asked for forgiveness.   God must have had a reason I suppose.  I thought about this as I hiked in the rain down into the valley veiled in mist.

            “Live a balanced life.”  I began far down river and fished up.  The other two guys were halfway between me and the bridge we would get out at.  It was as balanced as I could think of getting.  I couldn’t believe it, however, after fishing for a spell, when I managed to catch up with them.  I hunkered down to remain undetected.  The rain had quit, and although overcast, it was perfect for fishing.  No wonder I wasn’t catching anything when I was trailing behind what they had already caught or spooked out.  Without the two men seeing me, I hiked all of the way back past where I had originally started.  I decided that I would fish this section again, after eating something and regaining my wits.  I sat and ate lunch on a high bluff, covered in hemlocks, and overlooking the moving water below.  I took a deep breath.  I took several deep breaths.  School was starting in two days.  People were in the creek.  I wanted to fish in peace.  I wasn’t catching anything.  I tried to convince myself it was going to be ok.

            “Take a nap every afternoon.”  I wasn’t going to take a nap that afternoon, as everything was still damp.  But I’m not opposed to it when I’ve had the chance to fish, and fish well, while tiring myself out.  I, however, was not tired as much as tettering on the edge of being vengeful.

            “Be aware of wonder.”  I marveled at the bluffs, long worn by moving waters, and the lushness of the leaves and pine boughs.  It was beautiful.  I spent time wondering how I could be making such excellent casts with no payoff.  I wondered, as the clouds cleared and the sun came out, why two different guys, young guys in their 20’s, would be kayaking through my little trout creek.  The paddlers were splashing, and clunking, and scaring away the fish.  They were scaring those same fish that weren’t biting.  It was ironic I suppose.  The guys said, “Hi” as they zipped on by; obviously enjoying themselves with cameras mounted on top of their helmets.  I’ve found their video on the web.  The section where they passed the disgruntled fisherman smiling through gritted teeth had been edited out.  I laughed slightly after they had disappeared downstream.  I think that was ok, in lieu of the fact that with all of these issues, I still hadn’t “lost it”…yet.

            “Everything you need to know is in there somewhere.”  I truly loved being in the creek that day, and although I enjoy fishing with those I share the passion with, it was nice to be alone that day.  I needed that before gearing up for another school year.  The country around that creek can be breath taking.  In the end, I did manage to catch a couple of trout and kept one ten inch brown to have as a meal later.  I wouldn’t say it was worth my time in trout, but I would say it was worth my time in trout fishing.  Those are two different things.

            “And it is still true; no matter how old you are when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.”  Well, it’s hard to apply that quote when I was fishing alone.  But I did think of my family when I hiked up out of the creek.  I thought of them when I saw all of the barn swallow nests up under the bridge.  It was like witnessing a reunion.  I also thought of my family as I apparently got out on the wrong side of the creek.  It was a classic mistake of making a short cut a long cut.  I wondered if I would ever see my loved ones again, as I stumbled my way along the ditch that sloped steeply away from the roadway above.  Due to the steep hill that I was climbing, I couldn’t get to a point where the roadway was level with the ground where I was walking.  In fact, I couldn’t even jump up and pull myself over the cement wall that I had walked alongside for the better part of a hundred yards.  I just couldn’t get up onto the road as it was too high for me to reach.  I was getting hot and irritable.  I knew the ditch eventually had to come level with the road, but the brush was becoming impassable and I now had to watch my footing as I was on chunks of broken concrete that had been dumped over the side to prevent erosion.  One more “hit.”  It was one more chance to possibly “lose it.”  One more chance to prove I could keep it together when life throws frustrating circumstances in your face.  I turned around and hacked my way back down to the creek where I had started from.  I crossed over the creek, got out on the other side, and was up on the road in just a few easy strides.  Amazing!  I then mountain climbed my way up the steep road and back to my Jeep; all of this while still in my waders and boots.

            Had it been a good day?  As they say, “A bad day fishing is still better than a good day at work.”  So yes, it was good.  Was I exhausted?  It’s the feeling I typically use to measure success with when I’m out-of-doors.  So yes, I was exhausted…both physically and mentally; and I still had a three hour drive home.  But just think, all I really needed to know I learned while on that fishing trip.  To that end, it was all good; exhaustively good.

            See you along The Way…