April Fools' Day

                My best “April Fools’ Day Joke” of all time came at my Mom’s expense.  God bless her.  We had a Dishmaster faucet on our kitchen sink.  It was one of those brands that had a scrub brush wand attached to a hose that you could activate by pulling up on a little knob.  When it was not in use, the wand laid across the top of the faucet.

I was around 14 or 15 years old when I had the great idea to prop up the knob with a toothpick broken off at just the right height.  I almost didn’t live a day longer when that afternoon of April 1^st my Mom came into the kitchen and turned on the water.  Instead of water coming out of the spigot, it sprayed her directly from the carefully positioned end of the scrub brush.  I of course had been waiting and could hardly contain myself.  I laughed so hard I gave away my innocence.  She caught me halfway up the stairs and beat me with a dish towel.  We both were laughing by then.  My Mom was a good sport; and pretty darn quick too!

            That’s not where the story ends though.  Fast forward 33 years into the future.  I told the story of fooling my Mom to my kids, as we were gathered around the dinner table.  Soon after, my son Todd snuck in and set up the sprayer that we have on our sink.  We should have known.  Actually we did.  Actually it didn’t matter, because Todd forgot about it; rookie mistake.  He came waltzing into the kitchen that evening and turned on the water and immediately got doused.  It was hilarious.  He couldn’t believe he had gotten fooled by his own joke.  In fact, in his sheepish frustration he jumped up and down; not a good idea on a wet tile floor.  He slipped and went down like a sack of wet potatoes.  We all laughed so hard we had tears running down our faces.  Somewhere we have a picture of Todd laying there soaked through and through, gasping for breath, and laughing.  You reap what you sow I guess; funny, real funny!

            Today (4-1-17) my friend Justin and I had planned a cross country excursion that involved hiking through backwater swamps from a point A to a point B.  It was going to be tough even on a good day due to multiple creek and river crossings.  In addition, we had to skirt a few sections of private property where we had been warned that they shoot first and ask questions later.  That is perhaps a bit extreme, but it makes for a good story, and the idea of trying to outrun buckshot would definitely be adventurous.  So, we needed to stay clear of that land obviously.  Unfortunately Mother Nature had different ideas this Spring Break.  It rained a lot, and other than one afternoon, the sun never showed its face; funny Mother Nature, real funny.  The idea of swollen waterways and low lands under water literally put a damper on what we wanted to do.  We decided to use our God given brain and revamped our plan so we didn’t risk jeopardizing ourselves for future outings.  Crossing moving or stagnant water was still inevitable, but we opted for a simpler hike in and cook out.  Mother Nature had a few jokes still up her sleeve, because today was absolutely beautiful.  When we first started, some of the puddles had a thin layer of ice on them.  The skies, however, were baby blue which allowed the round spherical thing in the sky to warm the Earth and our souls.  The high temperature by our adventure’s end was 65 degrees.  Apparently the Midwest was not to be outdone on this day!  Spring Break indeed; take that all of you coming back from some southern beach far, far way.

            Justin and I trudged fields and muck and made it down to the main river.  When we tried to hike along its bank though, we were stopped and turned away time and time again due to oxbows, drainage ditches, creeks, and marshes coming off the main river.  Identifying the main river was difficult because the currents that were coming off from it, and into the woods, was almost as strong.  We rerouted ourselves so many times; continually backtracking around fingers of water that extended off into the woods, that it was downright confusing.  We had to laugh aloud at our seemingly aimless wandering; funny, real funny.

            By late midmorning we realized we were not going to see the main river again.  We had been cut off.  We made several log bridges, but even those wouldn’t have worked for some of the areas that technically would have required a Huck-Finn raft or flat out swimming.  We decided to find an area void of poison ivy suckers that were sticking up all around us and make our fire.  We were getting hungry.  While working with a bundle of tinder, and the spark off the steel, ignition happened so fast I singed my eye lashes a bit; funny, real funny.

            Around the fire we talked and cooked our meal.  Our day camp was water-side on what amounted to a large pond, fed from the series of canals and channels we had spent several hours walking around.  Our conversation was different today, but good.  It was personal, but helpful.  It allowed us to gain a perspective on each other’s thoughts and views of life.  It was nonthreatening and gave each of us the opportunity to understand where the other was coming from.  Life can be funny, but it can be tough, unfair, and confusing too.  Good conversation can help iron life out and make sense of it.

            By the end I think I was probably jabbering.  I was getting tired.  After being dropped off by Justin, I fell asleep for about 45 minutes.  Fortunately that took the edge off.  I wanted to make use of the weather.  Driving over to school with my dogs, I quickly varnished a project I’ve been working on.  Once back, I went to work on a small garden area of gooseberry bushes that I have in our backyard.  The dry ground gave me the chance to get out and use some of the rocks that I’ve collected.  I built a small retaining wall using chunks of limestone to hold back the sod and soil.  It felt good to get my hands into the earth and feel the warmth in the air.

Before

After

            It was a good Saturday today; a good April Fools’ Day as days go.  Rain is again in the forecast throughout this next week.  But for today, this one day, Mother Nature was nobody’s fool and instead gave us a sneak peak at what it can once again feel like to have the sun on our face.

            See you along The Way…

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)

-----

            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…

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!

A Step In The Right Direction

“Choose your friends because you enjoy them and because they are good people…Choose your friends for the sake of friendship – their friendship to you, and more importantly, your friendship to them.  Start there.”

-Tony Dungy (From: Uncommon-2009)

            It had been about ten years since we’d all gotten together.  For college friends who routinely gathered on weekends every couple of months, for years and years, it had been too long.  After graduating, we started meeting simply because we enjoyed each other’s company, and loved the “weekend warrior” mentality that went along with it.  Some of our group had only attended the college we’d gone to for a year or so.  Some of our group was made up of "adopted" friends or family of various members.  We’d drive to someone’s house after work on a planned weekend, play basketball that night, get something to eat, take our time getting up the next day, visit a few sporting card shops or toss a football around during the afternoon, and then go play basketball again.  It was a weekend of wearing our bodies to a frazzle, but we were young and we loved it.  Often when we played at my school’s gym, past players of mine (then in high school) would join us to help round out the teams and provide a couple of subs.  Throughout the night we’d switch players on the teams so that we would all have a chance of running the floor with a former suite-mate.  If I remember correctly, we’d usually play until I had won at least one game, if I hadn’t already.  Sometimes the night went longer than expected.  When in the Quad Cities, where some of the guys were from, we’d play in a local church gym.  Nothing compares to having a heated game played on a carpeted floor, in a gym with carpeted walls.  We also played in the 3 on 3 tournaments so popular throughout the 1990’s; like “Hoopfest” (in the Quad Cities) and Gus Macker (in Rockford).  In our minds those times provided us with classic stories and memories, occasionally with a memorable outcome.

            Yesterday a handful of us met up again.  It was a step in the right direction.  Due to some afternoon commitments, they agreed to meet early at 7:00.  The time itself wasn’t particularly early, but considering one was coming from Milwaukee, one from Moline, and two from McHenry County, their alarms went off early enough.  Amazingly, they all arrived within two minutes of each other, and right on time.  We talked briefly, loaded into two vehicles, my dog Kora jumped into the back, and we took off.  The gathering was simple, no basketball; just a drive to the woods, a hike, a meal cooked over a fire, and good conversation.  Nothing quite brings guys together, and helps bridge the gap of lost time, like being out-of-doors and watching open flames cook food in a frying pan.  It wasn’t our whole group of “once upon a time,” but it was a start, and definitely worth it.  We told some stories between gathering firewood and eating, and caught up with the goings on of our families.  It’s our hope that over the next few months we’ll be able to gather again, perhaps with a few more guys being able to join us.  We hope that not because the others have to join us, but hopefully because they want to.  When I think back to the guys who hung out in college, and the gang it became after the adoptees joined in, a majority of us didn’t have any brothers growing up.  And so our friendships helped fill some of that void.  It provided us with someone to wrestle or hang out with in between going to classes or working.

            Yesterday was fun.  It was short lived, but throughout the morning and early afternoon we began to catch up.  Creating new experiences helps build upon a foundational bank of memories already established; established friendships that began many years ago.  Getting together was a step in the right direction for our band of brothers.

            See you along The Way…

Mike & Kora, Mike, Chris, Mike, and Scott

__________

Cindy, Jodi & I went in and saw Tony Dungy today (His quote was used at the top of this blog entry). He was a guest at Willow Creek Community Church in South Barrington, Illinois.  It was ironic to see him today when I had recently read the section on friendship in his book entitled Uncommon, and knew I wanted to use that quote in this post.  Tony was the coach of my favorite football team, the Indianapolis Colts (When they won the Super Bowl in 2006).  He is also from the Jackson, Michigan area where my parents are from, and both my Mom & Dad had Tony's father Wilbur as a professor at Jackson Junior College.  More important than those facts though are that he is a man of character, and knows a few things about building friendships, and strengthening relationships.

A Sunset on a Great Weekend