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.

CLICK BELOW FOR A VIDEO OF

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...

Father Daughter Springtime Dance

Pictures In The Shadows

Sunshine abounded and fell unencumbered.

Winter’s cruel bite fled and ran back to the North.

Although ice still clung to trails on the ridges,

Layers of soil shown forth to the heavens.

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Lichen and mosses popped out in stark contrast.

Branches against blue rattled bones to the wind.

While the xylem pushed up the sap from the roots,

Phloem brought vital energy to the trees.

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Liquid silver gurgled South rushing noisy.

Banks under water peeking up through Spring’s flood.

As breezes are filtered through needles of pine,

Birds call and make boundaries fresh from the flight.

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Jodi and I walked and talked within that realm.

Riverside woodland - sanctuary escape.

When we reached the margin ‘tween water and land,

Fire was brought forth adding song to the day.

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Food was then cooked on a mid-morning skillet.

Kora sniffed scents from invisible wilds.

Since time stood still as we conversed in the warmth,

Daughter and I danced to the birth of the Earth.

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See you along The Way...

A Bend In The Swollen River

Moss Spore Pods

Waiting For The Food To Cook

Cooking On A River's Bank

Kora Dining In Style

Topping Off Brunch With Mugs Of Hot Cocoa

Bone White Branches Of A Sycamore Tree

Father Daughter Springtime Dance

Out On The Frozen Adventure

On that day I realized that an adventure isn’t just for those who take it.
Adventure fuels imagination, and visa-versa - if one withers,
so does the other.

This Water Goes North

Dennis Weidemann

Manitenahk Books - 2008

Click Below For A Video Of The Necessary Gear:

It had been a spell since the Gulo Adventure Clan had come together; since July in fact.  Although overdue, they say that you can’t rush goodness, which is probably true, and as good a reason as anything else I can think of for why it’s taken this long to put an outing together.  Of course busy schedules, high water in the rivers, a wedding, and sport seasons held any thought of an adventure at bay. And although they also say that life itself is an adventure, there’s really only so much time that a treed critter will stay in the lofty branches of that tree before it jumps headlong into the pack of hounds who are indeed baying to the hot, fresh scent of their quarry.  It was with those dogs nipping at our heels that ten men, tied in some way, shape, or form to the Prairie Hill School District headed North into Wisconsin to seek adventure.

The destination for our adventure across the Stateline really was insignificant.  By insignificant, I don’t mean that the location didn’t matter, or that that it wasn’t important, it’s just that it really didn’t matter where we were escaping to, as long as it was outside, we could build a fire, and where we could all be together.  Besides, the destination we did go to truly is significant, as a priceless little lake well worth a visit. But we won’t tell you where it is. We’d have to kill you if we told you, to keep the secrets of our various outings sacred; some of which have become traditional, hallowed locations.

It was with these things in mind that the ten of us loaded into three vehicles and shoved off into the currents of dreams, fresh air, and the unknown.  As we drove and rode, we dined on Mandarin oranges and granola bars. Once we arrived and had divvied up our gear, trekking across the lake was only a bit dicey.  The ice was plenty thick, but in select sections, a pseudo cover existed that often gave way to several inches of freezing cold water that hovered on top of the original layer of ice.  For those with boots it was not a big deal. For those with warm season hiking or trail shoes it was.

Click Below For A Video Of Us Lake Trekking:

Along the way, and while crossing the ice, we stopped and talked to two brothers named Randy and Craig who happened to be out ice fishing.  We waited patiently while they took a picture of Randy’s son Ryan who had just caught a nice pike on a tip-up. They released it, reset the line with a minnow, and then came over to talk to us, and allow me to introduce them to my fellow Gulo members.  You might think that such a visit wouldn’t be important to the story I’m trying to tell, but on the contrary, it was at its heart. Randy and Craig’s Dad had been a foundational member of the Prairie Hill School District for many years, and had retired just before I had started teaching.  I know the importance of sweat equity for those who came before us at our school. I wasn’t going to miss out on the teachable moment, to have those linked to the past meet those teaching in the future. It is this very thing that promotes understanding, supports a legacy that already existed, and establishes the knowledge and roots of history necessary to uphold the trunk and branches of what is often called progress.

Once we left the ice and plunged into the brush, the real work began.  It was tough going! The snow was surprisingly almost up to our knees. The traipsing was made even more difficult with the tangled grasses, spring water bubbling up through soft ground, and the tight woven branches of the red osier dogwood slapping against us.  After a bit we dumped our gear at a base-camp beyond some young poplar trees, and continued hiking on into another lake. We rested at our destination, caught our breath, and took a quick group picture. Just as we stepped back up onto the bank, one of our members sank down into soft mud below the deep snow.  He was stuck and held fast. While we held him up by his arms, another member began scraping away the snow from around his leg. Finally, it loosened its grip, but not until icy water had filled his boot. This was the second or third guy who now had wet feet. I was beginning to worry that this adventure was pushing the limits of our gear and abilities.  As we turned around and headed back to our supplies and the promise of a warm fire, the looming picture of a home cooked meal encouraged us on and the group forward.

Click Below For A Video Of Us Traipsing Brush:

           Once congregated, I had the fire going in two hits of my flint and steel.  We quickly went to work while the others drank orange juice as they sat, talked, or caught their breath.  Within a short amount of time we cooked the meal in our two iron skillets. To a man we devoured the food.  All of it. Which was as much of a feat as the adventure itself. Even my dog Kora was able to enjoy a healthy scoop; a reward for the hard work she had endured of leaping and bounding with each step through the snow; in and around our legs.  Afterwards we stood around the fire and topped off our outing with a cup of hot cocoa in our monogrammed tin cups. With a word of thanks, and a request for courage and strength to do what each of us does at work, and in the realm of education, we then repacked the gear and headed out.

Click Below For A Video Of Making A Fire:

The going was easier on the packed trail as we returned.  Our spirits were also much lighter with food in our bellies and the destination of the parking lot within our sites.  We crossed the frozen lake again as the temperatures began to peak for the day, but not before another member plunged his foot through the top sheet of thin snow and ice and into the middle layer of ice water.  He was young though, and tough, so onward he walked. With warmer temperatures in the near future, it may have been one of the last days to be out on the lake. Today, however, the lake had provided us with a means to the end; it had provided us with a way to walk into a frozen adventure.

See you along The Way…

Pictured From Left To Right Are:
Myself, Andy, Scott, Joe, Chuck, Zach, Andrew, Justin K., Justin B.
And Kora With Tyler.
Andy, Chuck , And Justin K. are new "Card Carrying Members!"

In [the] modest life lies the beauty of adventure - you don’t have to

discover new territory or be famous to find it.  It is the last

pure democracy, and that is its allure.

This Water Goes North

Dennis Weidemann
Manitenahk Books - 2008

It's A Process

You wouldn’t think anything would hold me back when I have the chance to get out into the woods, but sometimes I do have to push through the walls and obstacles that want to hold me back.  Such was the case on the morning of the last day of 2019. Part of the issue was the preparation. I wouldn’t have to bring everything that I pack, but being prepared and then cooking out is what I tend to enjoy.  It's just that organizing the gear and cutting up the food takes time.

The other half of the issue was that I simply was worn out.  I was tired from the craziness at school prior to Winter Break; what with the classes, a tournament that we hosted, as well as coaching the start of the girl’s basketball season.  My wife Cindy and I put all of that in a mental box on a shelf though, as we went into parent mode to enjoy and partake in our son’s wedding. Two days after this remarkable celebration, Cindy had shoulder surgery to remove bone spurs, trim frayed cartilage, and repair a tear where her bicep attached.  I then dove into taking care of her, and helping in all of the aspects necessary to allow someone to recover from surgery. Doing so didn’t allow for much sleep for either of us. We had Christmas with family in there somewhere, before our daughter left for a ten day tour of Israel. The house suddenly seemed quiet, and the natural let down after such a “life-rush” almost led to a case of mild depression.

For the last couple of years, Cindy and I have survived by trying to be cognizant of each other’s feelings, taking deep breaths, and simply putting one foot in front of the other.  Living life like that can be taxing, and wear you out if you’re not careful. Thank goodness for the support and love from family and friends, and our personal, spiritual faith. I truly don’t know how one can move day to day through life without the assistance and hope from such pillars of strength.  Like many things in life, developing healthy ways to progress through the years and deal with the good, the bad, and the ugly is a process.

Fortunately I had a window of time to head out to the woods with our dog Kora, to mull these thoughts over.  She was noticeably excited, panting, and drooling all over the Jeep’s console. The late morning outing followed a light snowfall that we had the night before.  Together we hiked and explored. Eventually I made a fire and cooked a meal for the two of us. This is also a process; collecting the right tinder, and igniting it using my flint and steel.  The meal as well had about three separate steps to it. I had thought of stringing up my hammock afterwards, and either writing or taking a nap in it, but it was one of the only days over this Break that was really cold. Plus, I didn’t want to leave my pup down below me on her own.

I’m the kind of person that typically moves from one thing to another without much downtime in between, unless the downtime itself is part of the plan.  Cindy likes to tease me about that. A couple of weeks ago she jokingly pointed out how I jumped from one finished book to another as I read them to “relax.”  For this reason, I packed up my gear following my cookout and a mug of hot cocoa. Regardless, in lieu of life’s schedules and pressures as of late, I was able to get out for a couple of hours, and that is a step I was grateful that I had taken.  It’s a process!

See you along The Way...

Fresh Beaver Activity Along A Creek

A Hollow Tree Acted As A Perfect
Place To Hang Gear And Act As A Table

A Fire From Flint And Steel

Bittersweet Berries
A Brilliant Red Within The Stark White Contrast

A Tired Pup!

Cindy And I Topped Off The Day
With Our Friends Dale And Sue
At "Mod Pizza"
It Was Our 31st Wedding Anniversary!  : )