Concurrently

It was a beautiful day today as early spring days go.  The fact that the sky was cloudless and the temperature was above freezing didn’t hurt.  Plus, the winds were moderate to calm, which was a change of pace from the gale force tempest we’d been having to endure for the last week or two.

After a morning run, and watching the Iowa women win their first game of the NCAA Basketball Tournament, I started gathering together my outdoor gear.  While prepping, I called and talked to my Dad to catch up on life.  I also texted with my cousin Sean to let him know that I planned to head out to the woods to cook up some venison of his - from a deer he had harvested an autumn or two ago.

He didn’t exactly give the venison to me, but his Dad offered me some of it during a visit - to help clear out a little space in his freezer where it had been stored for a period of time.  I appreciated being the recipient of the decluttering, and was finally in the perfect position to put the meat to good use!  Thanks Uncle Bob!

Sean said he might go out too, make some coffee, and read a book; both of us thinking that we’d take our dogs, and soak up some sun and vitamin D.  The temperatures promised to be in the mid to upper 40’s.  Although we’d both be heading out to the woods at the same time, we’d unfortunately be on opposite sides of the big puddle called Lake Michigan - and a mere 337 miles away (from point to point) of where we each planned to set up our day camp.  Even though we were far away from each other, we'd be enjoying the outdoors concurrently.

After parking, pulling on my new hip boots, and hoisting my pack, Kora heeled and trotted alongside my left flank.  I figured that I’d wear the hip boots in case I had to slog through any water and also to ward off any early season ticks.  I had my pant legs tucked within my thick wool socks and down inside the boots as an extra precaution.  Kora had her monthly tick & flea treatments as a defense, plus I’d check her over as soon as we were back home and I’d brushed her out.

Once we were through a water filled ditch we plunged into a thicket of prickly ash.  You have to duck and dodge the branches like a prize fighter to keep from getting poked or maimed by the thorns in those woods, which is why I like to periodically go there, nobody else attempts it!

There’s a massive sycamore tree back in that section of woods that sits on the bank of an old oxbow.  The base of the trunk is 4 to 5 feet in diameter and its bone white branches raise their arms in perfect praise to the heavens.  You can almost hear its sigh of relief at not having to worry about strong currents eroding its roots any longer.  It’s content to sit and bask in the setting sun and find liquid nourishment beside calm water that is little more than a kidney shaped pond; once an outside bend to the bigger river now a couple hundred yards away.

As Kora sniffed and explored, I cleared away a few branches and set out both her flannel lined blanket and my sit pad.  We would relax together as I studied from the book entitled, Aldo Leopold: The Man And His Legacy.  With the sun on my side and the Grandfather Tree at my back, I read about Leopold’s quest to set aside wilderness.  According to Craig W. Allin, “Leopold was pioneering the science of wildlife management.” (26)  Before Leopold, wildlife was simply known as game.  Resources were often taken for granted and the relationships misunderstood (i.e. the erosion of soil & the elimination of predators).  Leopold himself enjoyed hunting and fishing, and recognized the need for raw materials, but was also trying to learn how things could be governed with responsible stewardship - animals, plants, and the entire genre of living and nonliving entities.  This was something that the native peoples of our land had always understood; as their lives were interconnected and dependent with the land & water.  As Aldo studied and gained knowledge, he made some mistakes, and found himself in the midst of a learning curve early on, but as Allin also wrote, “It [Aldo’s message] was, at its core, a plan for natural and cultural diversity and an effort to stimulate effective political demand for wilderness as a critical element in that diversity.” (29)

At the time, this was new thinking and the foundation of what was to become Aldo Leopold’s “Land Ethic.”  The idea of renewing ecosystems and healing what had been exploited was revolutionary, because prior to this mankind simply moved further into the landscape to find more of what had become scarce in their present setting.  A yeoman's share of his ecological journey took place in the 1920’s, and yet the struggle to put some of these crucial concepts into place continues even today - over a hundred years later!  Susan Flader wrote about Aldo’s goal even further when she explained, “He would motivate not by inciting fear of ecological catastrophe or indignation… but rather by leading people from esthetic appreciation through ecological understanding to love and respect.” (23)  Can you imagine such a thing?  What a novel idea to move away from attempting to force feed others into a platonic relationship with the outdoors, and instead, create a positive and intimate association with nature that leads to an an intricate understanding of how land and water - in conjunction with the biotic (living) and abiotic (nonliving) - must work together!  Wouldn’t you want to learn more about such things under those conditions?  He’d be the kind of teacher we’d all want to have; the outdoors as our classroom!

As Sean walked with his dog Kali in a grove of white pines, I put aside my book and started a fire from flint and steel; fueled by dead and dried branches that had fallen from the sycamore's canopy.  I had snowshoed with Kora in deep snow a few winters back, to this very spot, to cook a breakfast skillet.  Today I was moving concurrently with my cousin who was a half day’s travel away, but contiguous to the bank alongside the familiar oxbow; same place - different season.

Kali & Sean Hiking Into Their Base-camp

To the venison in the iron skillet I added a shredded potato, and eventually a diced onion; pulling aside some of it to avoid giving Kora the onion which apparently isn’t good for dogs.  The venison, which had come from a rather big 7 point buck, had been mixed with some pork during processing to add flavor and to keep it from drying out.  Once it was ready, I added a sprinkling of Colby Jack cheese.  Kora and I ate as the sun began to settle into the treetops beyond the still water.  Sean had his hammock up and was reading.

Sean And His 2022 Buck

My Plate Of Venison Hash

Sean's Hammock Near Day's End

In the distance I heard the booming calls of a barred owl.  Somewhere this raptor had a clutch of eggs that would soon hatch.  Canadian geese honked overhead in conjunction with the whistling of wind through wood duck wings, peeping at me as they searched for safe backwaters.  Surprisingly, a decent sized painted turtle paddled by; sticking his head above the tensioned surface to peer at me.  Just two weeks ago this water was covered in thick ice and the turtle was buried deep in mud and decaying leaves.  A fat headed bullfrog, still in tadpole form, propelled out from the shoreline and into deeper water.  Birds chirped and a few flies buzzed the tower of the nearby bushes.

As I leaned against the tree and drank my hot cocoa, Sean pulled Kali onto his lap to swing in the hammock and watch the final rays of the setting sun.  I pushed my books, cookware, and various supplies back into my pack, and in the growing shadows, began the hike back to my old silver Jeep.  It was an afternoon of hope for warmer weather, something we appreciate in the Midwest’s changing seasons.  Especially after the excitement for fresh snowfall has worn out its welcome.  It’s something that Sean and I both, even two states away, could enjoy concurrently.

See you along The Way…

Enjoying The Setting With Some Cocoa

Kali & Sean In Southern Michigan

Kora & Me In Northern Illinois

Closing The Gap On Social Distancing

Crazy.  That’s probably one way to describe the last week or so.  Scary, frustrating, and stressful could possibly be other feelings used to illustrate how we’ve felt, and what has happened, since the coronavirus-19 suddenly became more real (COVID-19).  I’m not sure anything has ever happened like this before. A friend of mine remembers being off from school seventy years ago, when he was in 1st grade, due to the polio epidemic. My own parents don’t remember being off from school, as they themselves were in the 4th or 5th grade at the time, but like my friend, they remember having limited activities throughout the summer months and waiting for a vaccine; soon enough presented in a sugar cube.  Of course there have been other events in our world’s most recent history that have “stopped the presses;” from measles and world wars, to the attack on September 11th. Each was catastrophic in their own right. But this virus seems far reaching beyond any boundaries, and without any care of who is infected. Hence the worldwide shut downs.

Somehow when all is said and done, we’ll look back at this pandemic and recognize our health care providers, and those working in essential businesses, as gold medal recipients like we did our first responders after 9-11.  The coronavirus has been a violent disruption of what we’ve come to expect. When you think of those who have suffered from the disease, and maybe even died, the loved ones left behind who couldn’t be around them in the final moments, businesses that have had to close, events canceled, lives and livelihoods turned topsy-turvy, it can be downright depressing.  Humanity has been sucker punched. One of the hardest things to swallow is how quickly we’ve moved forward without any time to properly process what’s happened. While some of that was necessary to protect ourselves, and stop the spread of the virus, we’ve not allowed ourselves to mourn the loss. In the midst of being forced to step back and not be engaged with others, people find themselves substituting time with constantly being connected to social media and e-learning.  Something is going to give way at some point, over an extended period of time, and you can probably guess it will be in the realm of mental health.

And so we have social distancing to try to “push down the curve” that would otherwise reflect the escalating spread of the disease.  It has been with that in mind that I’ve run the local trails; sometimes with friends but always at a distance. It has also been with that in mind that I went out and cut firewood the other day.  But it was mostly with that in mind that I chose to go out for an outdoor adventure. It is, after all, our Spring Break. And since we’re not traveling, or even visiting our own parents or son & daughter-in-law to prevent any contamination, I went to the woods.  I was technically walking the dog and exercising, but quite simply it was essential to my well being. Regardless, I didn’t see a living soul, so social distancing was a moot issue.

By midmorning I had filled my backpack with the necessary gear, and along with an older pair of waders, lashed them both to an old sled that I intended to use as a sledge over dry land.  After hiking a respectable distance, I knew I was going to need to slog through some deeper sloughs, in some backwater areas, so I had to have something to help me haul the equipment it would take to get me through and up onto higher ground.  Together with our dog Kora, and my Silver Jeep (now equipped with new shocks and tires), I headed out.

It wasn’t hard to drag the sledge, but I wouldn’t say it was easy either; it was a workout for my back and legs.  I was fueled, however, with the desire to try something new to get to someplace familiar. With the area to ourselves, I stuck to fairly worn trails until I came upon a (Northern) bayou draining off an oxbow; swollen from a nearby river that was approaching flood stage.

The Sledge

I unlashed the gear, took off my tall boots, and put on my waders and backpack.  I left the sledge against a silver maple, and Kora on the bank, until I had found a respectable way across the water.  Fortunately I had brought along one of my hiking sticks; this one a relic my Dad had carved for me a few years back. Using it as a staff for balance in the current, I prodded the creek bed in front of me to regulate the depth and determine if there were any underwater structures in my way.  About halfway across the slough channel, when the water level was at my chest, I realized I had a slow leak in my waders. I felt cold water seeping down my right leg. It was still better than swimming across this time of the year!

Once I had made it to some higher, dry ground on the far bank, I unloaded my boots and backpack and tried to call Kora over to me.  Instead, she looked at me from afar, with an expression that said, “Are you crazy?” and stood her ground. I made my way back, just short of the main channel and managed to coax her into the water and up to me; encouraging her as she swam.  She really is a good swimmer, and reminds me of a little otter. I decided the sled turned sledge was fine where I had left it on the far bank until I returned later. Together, Kora and I continued the last 100 feet to where I had dropped my gear.  From this point it was a small jaunt back to the river itself. It was running high, which was the main reason I had needed to traverse the runoff of its water in waders. To get back into this section of the woods, however, it was what I had had to do.

CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO OF

KORA & I CROSSING THE SLOUGH:

I quickly unpacked, cut up some wood (chiefly hickory), and started a fire on the riverbank.  While the coals were forming, I took a few pictures and then began preparing our food. I also toweled off Kora and gave her a dry spot on which to lay down.   I was determined to enjoy this outing, and try not to rush from one thing to the next without taking the time to ponder and reflect on what’s been happening. Moreover, I felt fortunate at this point to be able to get out and have a chance to enjoy nature.  In the distance, and occasionally overhead, we were serenaded by the booming calls of several barred owls, the loud rattling of sandhill cranes, the honking of Canadian geese, the quacking of mallards, and the wailing cries of the shy wood ducks.

Once I had eaten and shared some of the food with Kora, I added cocoa to my hot water and tried to sit for a few minutes.  I often feel like a squirrel that is always on the move, but sitting still without having to constantly be doing something is important.  Through one mug of hot chocolate I sat and watched the water of the river sweep by, while occasionally adding wood to my small fire.

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THE CRACKING FIRE ON THE RIVERBANK:

In addition, I journaled for a spell, took a few extended videos of the fire burning, and then had another mug full of cocoa while reading excerpts from the Bible.  Although I skipped around to various versus, I finally found myself centered on Hebrews#11; the chapter called, “The Hall of Faith.” The word faith is mentioned about 27 times in that chapter, and highlights those who came before us who both endured hardships and persevered.  Imagine that! Of course while they were living through their trials of life, they didn’t know how things would turn out in the end. Perhaps that’s why the very first verse at the beginning of chapter#12 states, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses [those mentioned in chapter#11)], let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” (NIV)  And what a race life is right now; resembling an ultra marathon, an obstacle course, or perhaps the swamps surrounding the backwater areas of a river. I think that’s why I keep seeing and hearing people refer to the mantra of, “Faith over fear, and Peace over panic.” True that! Until then, find the thing that refuels you. For me, on this outing, it was being nearer to nature, and creatively coming up with new ways to do what I like to do. And then, with that energy in your tank, reach out in some way, shape, or form to encourage somebody around you.  It will safely help to close the gap on this social distancing.

See you along The Way...

CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO OF

QUIET REFLECTIONS DURING

SOCIAL DISTANCING:

See you along The Way...