River Rats

From Right To Left, Justin And Me At The Launch

“Canoeing and fishing are ways to get beneath the surface of things, to open our hearts to the world.  They make us participants in nature instead of spectators, a crucial distinction because participants tend to become passionate and protective, and spectators tend to become indifferent.”

Dennis, Jerry. “Night of the Aurora.” Canoe and Kayak Magazine, July 2000.

As I stare down at the random spots of bubbling skin on my arms and ankles; the after effects of poison ivy, I am reminded of a recent adventure with my friend Justin.  We decided to hit a river where we could paddle down, camp alongside, and fish within its banks.  Yes, those banks are typically covered in Toxicodendron radicans, commonly known as poison ivy, but if you know what you’re looking for, you can keep the rashes to a minimum, and maximize your exposure to an outdoor expedition.

After compiling our gear, my wife helped coordinate our drop off.  Initially there was a chance for rain, but we ended up with perfect conditions.  As river rats we paddled and occasionally fished some outside bends, to no avail, as we made our way through a maze of downfalls that were now jutting above the surface; a result of the low water levels.  On the way down river to our designated camping spot, the bald eagles seemed as numerous as sparrows; several having much better luck at fishing as they carried off spectacularly large specimens most humans would gawk at.  In fact, it was with bugged eyes and mouths hanging open that we saw an eagle drop half a pike from the lofty tree that we were pulling up under to camp.  At first I thought the splash was that of a beaver-tail, but Justin in the bow of the canoe could see the white head of the massive bird that was responsible.  Upon closer inspection we found the chunk of fish in the water as the eagle flew up and out from under the canopy where it had been perched and feeding.  The remains of the pike measured roughly 16 inches of what must have been nearly 30 inches at the onset; a testament to the acute strength of our nation’s bird.

Justin Fishing An Outside Bend

The Half Eaten Remains From The Bald Eagle

The grass growing on the bank of our chosen camp was tall and nearly my height.  We pushed it over in a small area for our two tents, allowing the springiness of the grass to provide a mattress effect when we headed to bed that evening.  Next we collected a few small branches of oak to use as firewood; it was hard, dry, and would make great coals for our small cooking fire.

        Since it was still early evening, we set to exploring the section of the river near us to see what we might be able to catch while fishing.  Early on we tossed and hooked fairly expensive lures into submerged logs, losing them to the “river gods.”  They must have accepted our unwitting sacrifice, because I soon caught a smallmouth bass on a #5 silver Mepps spinner I had just tied directly onto my braided line; having lost the fluorocarbon tippet with my spinner bait moments before that.  While Justin worked through his own penance, I then hooked into a great river pike in an area Justin had previously explored.  I had a feeling that I was about to get a hit because I had felt the all too familiar sudden easy retrieve when something is charging your lure and pushing water.  Occasionally it’s because you are reeling your lure over submerged structures, but more often than not, you’re about to get a strike.  When the pike hit, I saw the swirl, set the hook, and felt the power.  There isn’t a whole lot that compares to experiencing the tenacity of a predatory fish like a pike.  It’s both awesome and unforgettable.  I managed to clip a fish gripper to it’s jaw and lift it up as Justin snapped a couple of pictures.  The pike measured at 27 inches and was worth every bit of that!

With A Little Smallmouth Bass

With A 27 Inch Northern Pike

Having dreamed of catching a fish and cooking it then and there as a shore lunch, we elected to keep it.  Justin went about cutting and breaking up our firewood while I got ready to clean the pike.  Unfortunately I had forgotten my fillet knife, so I had to use a regular knife instead; using a mud caked log along the bank as my cutting board.  Both of the fillets were too large for my iron skillet, so we cut them in half and fried them individually.  They were heavenly, delicious, and we tried our best to savor the taste, setting, and experience as we wolfed it down.  We decided to cook the tinfoil dinners that we had also prepared; full of potatoes, carrots, onions, and chicken.  The dinners weren’t necessary after the fish, but since we had them, we went ahead and stuffed ourselves.

The Overturned Canoe Acted As Our
Table & Bench At The Fire

Under the reflective light of the rising full moon I read Justin two humorous outdoor stories using my headlamp, laughing to Pat McManus’ “The Grasshopper Trap” and “First Knife.”  Afterwards, within my tent, I read from one chapter of Sigurd Olson’s The Lonely Land  before turning off my light at 11:00 and calling it a day.

The Full Moon Rising

Personally I slept fairly well, only waking to occasionally shimmy my sleeping bag back into position.  Justin said that it was the best that he’d slept in a tent in quite a while.  A cardinal started the day at 4:34 and that gave the rest of the nearby birds the permission necessary to begin reestablishing their territories and call out to one another.  One in particular called out to us all morning long from a nearby silver maple.

That next morning we fished again.  I managed to catch a second pike after a while; this one at 26 inches.  Both Justin and I had watched as it followed my spinner up stream, but it missed the strike as it came up and over the point of a sand bar I was standing on.  Two more back to back times the pike tried to hit the lure and missed before I finally slowed the reeling down to such a point that the spinner barely turned.  When the pike struck one more time I set the hook and managed to catch it.  It was a beautiful pike, and after a quick picture I released it back into the pool from which it came.

With A 26 Inch River Pike

After all of that excitement, we went back to our camp.  With the absence of dew, the tents were taken down and packed away dry.  The rest of our gear was piled, and after another delicious meal, this time of potatoes, sausage, and eggs, we loaded our supplies into our canoe and began our paddle down to our take out spot.

We talked, laughed about various mishaps with our fishing tackle, and thoroughly enjoyed paddling the river.  It was a fun adventure to have shared, and as Jerry Dennis quoted about those who canoe and fish, we delved deep as active participants in nature.  River rats that are passionate and protective of such environments that surround moving waters are certainly going to perceive and experience it in a refreshing manner.

See you along The Way...

Finishing Our Journey At The Take Out Spot

Up North Memories

Escape was necessary, as they say;

‘Cause Covid and distancing forced us that way.

“To the North!” we said, where we were born and raised;

One state to the West, but equally praised.

Twas Michigan then and Wisconsin now;

Both shaded with the white pine bough.

The temps were warm, but the water was cool;

Lakes always welcome over a pool.

We visited, we swam, we ate, and we hiked;

We sounded the waters for panfish and pike.

Eagles, ospreys, raccoons, and bear;

Snappers, muskrats, beaver, and deer.

Cathy's Ice Cream and the Red Canoe;

The only places that changed our view.

Books were read and pictures taken;

Visions and people unforsaken.

Parents, siblings, spouses and kids;

Needles, pine cones, leaves, and twigs.

Cabins rented, prepped, and nestled;

Balance and calm to what’s been disheveled.

To the call we had each responded;

Hugs and tears as we all rebonded.

Family adventures in the wild;

Our money’s worth for every man, woman, child.

Within scenery created by God’s own design;

Memories made at Whispering Pine.

See you along The Way...

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PHOTO ALBUM

Our Entire Family - Three Generations

Dad And Mom With My Sisters And Me

Karen, Becky, and Me

Our Family of:
Jodi, Emeris, and Todd With Cindy & Me

Cindy And Her Stringer Of Panfish

A 26" Pike That I Caught On The Last Evening

Sunrise

Sunset

Long Time

 

On the way out to Sugar River’s wooded, bluff-top, ridge, while driving small country roads, my prayer was that our gathering would somehow bring a wide variety of people into a funneled commonality.  I had really worked hard these past few weeks reaching out to about every man I’ve known who’s worked within the Prairie Hill School District (Made up of Prairie Hill School & now Willowbrook Middle School).  I can go back that far into the past archives because overall there hasn’t been that many men in comparison to the women staff members.  Most of the men I emailed, some I called on the phone, and a few I contacted by writing letters.  Some chose not to come, a few had previous commitments or life situations going on right now, but those who stepped forward and wanted to attend contributed to our largest gathering to date.  For those who have been a part of our group called the “Gulo Adventure Clan,” and our many outdoor outings, this one was a bit tamer but still equally important.  It allowed us to reach out beyond boundaries and simply come together; guys of all ages, with various amounts of years within our schools.

Halfway out to the Forest Preserve, and the old limestone shelter, Boston’s song entitled, “Long Time” began playing on the radio.  Although the lyrics may have been more about moving on from a relationship, the theme resonated strongly in that it has been a while since we’ve gathered together as a large group of friends.  I smiled as I remembered that I had joked with a few friends prior to this, that our outing was kind of like “The Island of Misfit Toys.”  We ranged in age from 26 to 84 with some who had invested in our district for just one year, and others for over three decades.  As staff members we represented different job titles including: teacher, technology coordinator, D.A.R.E. officer, aide, coach, principal, and superintendent (and a few men were a combination of two or three of those titles).  Each of us have contributed to our schools using the unique gifts that we’ve been granted.

A couple of the men started at Prairie Hill back in the 1960’s; only a few years after our area’s three one-room schools had consolidated.  Back then the educators in our district taught several grade levels at the same time as there were only a handful of students per grade.  Does it even make sense to say, “Oh how the times have changed in just 60 short years?”  Believe me when I say that they have.  And I’ve only been here for a little over 30 of those years!  Hence the misfit toys reference.  Fortunately those toys (in the movie “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer”) were all picked up by Santa and eventually delivered to children who would love them.  Likewise, not everything has been smooth sailing over the years in our district, but overall most has been, and we have definitely persevered.  Ultimately we continue to make a difference in the lives of students and our community, while oftentimes becoming friends with our colleagues at the same time.

It was with this mentality that I was spurred on to try to gather as many men together as possible.  People need a frame of reference.  People need to know that although the work they are doing now is important, there have been a lot of people who have put in just as much work prior to this.  Work in a school can be foundational.  Sometimes bricks are stacked, and sometimes they are restacked after a leveling line has been snapped, but regardless, the educational wall continues to be built.  How’s that for a visual parable?

Yesterday’s weather was awesome.  Yesterday’s gathering was mind blowing for me personally.  I can’t help but wonder how a simple request to gather can lead to us actually doing just that.  How does it happen?  Why do people want to gather?

When a few of us first began getting together for fun years ago, I made “Membership Cards.”  Printed on the cards were various quotes that meant something to me at the time.  They still do.  I did, however, in the spirit of finally being able to get together following this pandemic, redesign the cards.  Those who have the originals are now holding onto priceless heirlooms full of memories and nostalgia.  The new membership cards are printed with better color contrasts that allow the words to be more legible.  In addition, I chose new quotes to better exemplify the Gulo Adventure Clan as we move into uncharted territory.  I feel the words embody who we are, and our purpose going forward as friends and colleagues; past and present:

• "We learn all of our most important lessons through story, and story deepens all of our most important lessons...This whole story began with something relational.” - John Eldredge (Epic)

• “We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.” - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

• “Courage, faith, love - these all must be cultivated.” - Bishop Michael Curry (Love is the Way)

• “There is no better way to recapture the spirit of an era than to follow old trails, gathering from the earth itself the feelings and challenges of those who trod them long ago...that while great events may find themselves in books and museums, it is the people themselves who really counted.” - Sigurd Olson (Streams of the Past)

While everyone today received new cards to replace our old ones, five men were presented a first-time card as new members.  That alone is pretty humorous, because while their membership may be new, their faces and time in our district are not.  For that, I personally say that I appreciate all that they have done.

As the names rolled in over the last week for those who wanted to come and attend, I simply shook my head.  It was beyond my belief and understanding.  I also lifted my eyes with palms facing upwards and said, “Thank you.”  Thank you God that after a long time, we were able to meet together as a group.  After a long time we were able to recognize others who worked, and taught, and educated before us.  After a long hiatus we were able to look beyond ourselves, and see others who have been a part of the on-going process involved in education.

The Gulo Adventure Clan will still have times when we’ll escape and traipse into the woods, rivers, and snow, but I think gatherings like this will also need to be a part of our existence.  It provides us an opportunity to step back, talk, and rejuvenate; so that it doesn’t feel like such a “Long Time” since the last time we remembered our roots.

See you along The Way...

Some of the Members of the "Gulo Adventure Clan"
(Back Row): Scott Rogers, Justin Bonne, Joe Grygiel, Zach Hill,
Louie Gugliuzza, Tyler Lovgren, Chuck Leonard, Justin Keller,
Rick Sager, Tom Strothoff, Roger Fenrick
(Front Row): Myself, Doug Elfstrom, Mike Michowski, Andrew Westgate,
Andy Valentine, Ted Rehl, Jack Finlen, Mike Plourde

Willowbrook Women Adventure

Women from Willowbrook gathered at the park yesterday.  While there was a chill in the air to meet the rising sun, the warmth from the heat radiating off of the fire that was set deep in the limestone hearth, permeated their souls.  It was a warmth initially sparked by months of separation, years of difficult expectations, and overall stress.  Yet, the crackling flames were fueled by commonality, friendships, and a desire for something better.

Healing, unity, and connections don’t happen haphazardly.  It takes intentional work.  It’s like traditions.  Sometimes it begins with a purposeful and planned action or event to help set the rock into place that becomes the cornerstone that marks when you begin to move ahead.  Occasionally it happens because something that occurred was welcomed, celebrated, and scheduled again.

Today was a step in the right direction to perhaps lay the foundation for future gatherings.  Erwin Raphael McManus once wrote that we are, “different, but a part of the same tribe...walking in the same direction, but on a unique path.” (The Barbarian Way - 2005)  That sums us up as educators and humans alike; each with our unique gifts, personalities, and characteristics, putting one step in front of the other and doing the best that we can with what we know at the time.

I often wonder what I can personally do to help in certain situations.  How can I contribute to help rally the troops or provide comfort and relief?  I’ve found that what I am able to provide is never really the same response twice.  It’s not a constant variable.  Sometimes I speak, sometimes I write, and sometimes I listen.  Often it centers around the outdoors or actively doing something.  This time for the Willowbrook Women, together with the help of others, I simply set a date, made a reservation, and cooked a meal.  The ladies took care of the rest on their own.

Current teachers and support staff from each side of our school building bonded with teachers who have since moved into retirement or other opportunities outside of Willowbrook.  Together they talked, ate, and hiked the nearby trails.  Together they laughed from their hearts, and showed brief glimpses of their spirit.  The breakfast in the park was an avenue to move forward together, and that was vital on so many fronts.  Perhaps today will be the segue that not only becomes a tradition, but that welds a link within a chain that has a unified purpose.  It’s how seemingly small and insignificant events can become so important and vital.  Should we all be so fortunate as to be blessed with such an opportunity.

See you along The Way...

The Fire, Hearth, And Gathering

Justin And I Cooking Breakfast In Cast Iron Skillets