Worth the Dream

From the first wilderness story heard I had always dreamed of going where few venture. Rod or gun in hand (preferably both) paddling silently in a canoe through the northern waterways would often glide into my thoughts. Visions of bulling through the brush with pack, canoe, compass, and an old hand drawn map of hidden lakes slyly beckoned from the many corners of my mind. In my sleep I would sometimes hurt my elbow on the wall beside the bed setting the hook on a lake monster crushing an old red headed wooden surface lure. Consequently, as a kid I inhaled any section of the school library containing wilderness stories.

  

50 plus years later, I have memory triggers of stories told many times around the campfires. Stories of family, growth, glory and pain. All things that make us who we are and could be becoming. I remember a wilderness fire crackling to the moaning of lobo timber wolves by our tents in the woods. We told endless stories that night until the wolves seemed further away than the edge of camp. Stories not found in this book.

Overheard at the outfitters: “Sorry, a bear ate the tent while I was out fishing…left me the floor and the poles”.

On the portage trail meeting a sad group: “We lost one. He pushed the canoe out into the river without a paddle. He was sucked over the falls and under a tree and drowned”.

Overheard at the pickup point for a teen group: “And… and, a bear got our food. Gary went after it and got it back”…Dad: “you are never going with that man again!”

Me on a far-away-from-civilization trail: “How did your leg get so infected? We need to get you to ER!” Man in my group: “I figured if I told you I had diabetes, you wouldn’t let me come along.”

Teen running to find me: “Fred fell and slid on his knees down the rocks…he falls over when he tries to walk.”

Meeting a couple of teenagers, I knew from another group in the middle of a huge lake: “guess what Gary, we were…like…talking and paddling and …like, we hit a moose back there with the canoe. He was swimming and… like…we just hit his horns…weird huh?”

Man in the front of my canoe whips out a knife: “I’m cutting your line…that fish will tip us. It’s too big!” Me: “if you cut my line I’m smearing your tent with bacon grease, and the bears will fight each other to eat you!”

I hope, in our brief time together, you enjoyed a taste and another lens to frame life. Through pictures, thoughts, stories and nudges, my blogs and journal entries are shared. May you know, stretch and keep growing into a beautiful relationship with our creator.

Gary