When
Justin pulled up, his car thermometer said minus eighteen. It didn’t really matter what it said; it was
cold. Fortunately there was virtually no
wind to drive the integers down further.
The air hung with what could only amount to relentless and penetratingly
sharp knives. Tyler, who had been
sitting in his truck out in front of our house, got out and joined us; as did
Doug once he parked behind Tyler’s truck.
The gear I had put together, and the food I had prepared, was loaded
into the back of Justin’s vehicle. Four
guys in an SUV, on a road trip (for a few hours), in freezing cold temperatures;
this was going to be perfect!
We
drove north of the Stateline border, and soon after, broke out the Clementine oranges
I had brought for each of us. This time
of the year they are succulent, and that’s how they tasted. We talked, and enjoyed the drive; arriving in
a little less than an hour.
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| Myself, Justin, Tyler, and Doug |
We
left most of our gear and the food for later, and instead pulled on our extra
layers and headed out onto the lake. The
ice was thick, and coated with several inches of snow that was dry and powdered
into fine crystals from the recent Arctic blasts these past few weeks. As a group of four we crossed the lake and
delved into the red osier thicket.
Keeping the sun on our left side, at a 10 to 11 o’clock position, we
hiked southward.
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A
few years ago my cousin Sean had remarked that, “It’s like being birthed from a
pine tree,” as we had pushed through a thick swamp into a newly found section
of a favorite river to fish for trout.
Today we felt as though we were being birthed from the dogwood. It required the lead guy to look for gaps in
the network of branches as we followed behind in a snaking, single file. A lot of bending, twisting, and maneuvering likened
us to a yoga instructor; bent on limbering up every major muscle group in our
bodies. Somehow Tyler and Doug did all
of this gripping onto their steel thermos of coffee, while Justin and I took
turns thrashing through the brush.
Together, Justin and I knew what we were doing. We had learned from our experience last year
when we had endured the same exact thing.
To help Doug and Tyler fully appreciate what we were doing, we purposely
repeated the same trek.
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About a mile
from where we had parked we burst out upon an open area with a frozen
pond. It was a relief, felt from all
four of us, that we had made it through.
Each of us, however, was suffering with either cold toes or fingers to
some degree or another despite our movement.
Our core was staying warm, but after taking some pictures, we followed
an outlet creek that led back to the original lake. Despite the bright sun, in a clear blue sky,
we needed to get back and get a fire started to reheat our phalanges. Luckily, as Justin and I had also known, the
walking was much easier in this section of our return trip.
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| A Dead Deer |
 |
| Coyote Tracks |
The
sun on the frosted grasses along the creek side provided us some opportunities
to take some great pictures. Although it
was cold, the creek with its moving water remained open. We also found a frozen, dead deer which had
been fed upon by coyotes, as evidenced by the crisscrossing and dog-like
tracks. It was a visual for the circle
of life. Pushing on, we returned to the
parking lot. We grabbed my sled, and
loaded some firewood I’d brought, along with the chopped up food and cooking
utensils. We returned to the far side of
the lake, just outside of the community of ice shanties, and quickly built a
fire out on the ice.
While
we were in preparation, two fishermen came over to see what we were doing. They had caught one fish so far using their tip-ups. We explained that we were just out to cook
some breakfast. Laughing, we all agreed
that it probably seemed crazy to anyone that might be looking at us out on the
lake on a frigid day like today, whether we were fishing, hiking, or
cooking. When we mentioned that we were
teachers from just over the Stateline, one of the men mentioned that his dad
had been an administrator at a small school district near where we all
lived. It turned out that he had been at
the district we were each connected to.
In fact, I knew of his dad. He
had retired just two years before I had been hired. Together, we both mentioned beloved teachers
by name that he was familiar with. They
were the teachers that had provided the foundation for our school and
district. It was bizarre, and caused me
to once again remember that the world is indeed small.
Here
I was on a frozen lake, for all intents and purposes, a long way from nowhere
(which is why we like it), sharing memories of people from a time when our
district was small and practically like family.
At the same time, here I was with a group of guys embodying an excerpt
of that vision of unity, only decades later.
The vision or dream can live on.
The dream simply has to be an action step. It comes in different forms, but an effective vision
for doing life together is essential to truly be successful. Actually, doing life together on any level
must be relational if it is to be anything close to successful or hold any
meaning at all. And in order to be
relational and family-like, people must have a desire to want to spend time
getting to know each other. We shook
hands and waved goodbye as they turned to make their way back to their fish shanty.
The
four of us did our best to warm by the fire while cooking on the coals. I’ve sometimes thought I should mix up the
menu of what I prepare, but the other three quickly said, “No,” that it should
remain as it is. I conceded and
agreed. On the giant iron skillet, the
food came out perfectly this time, and we let the meal and taste permeate the
pores of our mouths and stomachs. We
topped it off with two cups of hot chocolate.
Tyler and Doug accidentally switched their monogrammed mugs, but they said
that each other’s cocoa tasted just fine.
The warmth of the moment, and the experience of our little adventure,
was just short of motivational.
We
kicked out the fire, packed our gear, and headed off the ice. Once we loaded up, and climbed inside the
SUV, we quickly felt the sun’s warmth through the windows coupled with the
vehicle’s heater. We each had one more Clementine
orange together with a container of cookies from Doug’s wife. To the background sounds of a podcast about a
guy who had survived a bear attack, we talked and drove home. Today was indeed cold, but it is destined to
be long remembered as a classic road trip.
See
you along The Way…
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