garyfultz

Right Side Paddle!

After 70 plus wilderness adventures to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, I can say with absolute 50% confidence that I am more aware of potential dangers than on trip #1. The other 50% has to do with the unpredictable nature of the wilderness. This is a picture of such danger

A nice portage and entry into the next lake. Obviously, there is current and a rapids runs between the lakes. The danger: once past the very last log sticking out, there is a very strong current that can pull a canoe down the deep part of the rapids. The river is deep, rolling and turns a sharp corner against the rocks and tree roots. Stay to the left side of the lake after pushing out and it’s safe. Push the canoe out before looking for one’s paddle and the canoe will subtly but swiftly begin to be sucked toward a point of “no return.” One could lose more than their fishing rod going down those rapids.

We watched it happening. A group of teenagers came through with two adults. We held back from docking our canoes to give them space to get through the portage. The last canoe to push out beyond the logs did not pick up their paddles. No awareness of the water moving them toward the rapids. Our group expected the adults to take charge quickly, but there was no awareness to a potential life threatening danger on the adult part of this group. I bypassed any authority structure and took charge.

“Start paddling or the current will suck you down” I yelled. Puzzled looks came from all the canoes of the teen group. “Paddle on the right side” I yelled and kept yelling. The teen had picked up his paddle as he began to realize there was a strong current. In panic he only shifted his paddle back and forth from hand to hand, drawing a blank on what to do. …”paddle right side” I yelled. He did. A couple of hard strokes from both teens and they propelled forward and grounded on an underwater rock but had gone into less current. They somehow made it out of danger and joined their group. Thankfully they avoided the crashing water frothing on the rocks, twisting and turning through the woods. I have no idea if they knew what they had just avoided.

Our group started debriefing right away. “Wow you sure yelled at those guys” someone said. “Let me explain” I said. “I once met a group of men on a portage trail who had just lost one of their guys in a stream like this one. Watching them was one of the saddest things I have ever seen. They told me the young man had pushed out in a canoe alone at a landing by a fast stream and didn’t remember his paddle. The current caught him quickly. In seconds the canoe rolled, and the current pushed him under a log and he drowned.”

“This is a life lesson guys” I said. “I’m sure we all know people who didn’t intend to be sucked into the point of no return with life stuff. We have to be constantly aware of the potential dangers all around us. This little moving water doesn’t look dangerous. When I see this current, it reminds me how many things in our culture pull us away from God. The point of no return is sometimes subtle, but closer than anyone thinks. When God yells “paddle right side!” I sure hope I am listening enough to hear that warning.”

One very rocky portage around a tumbling rocky stream between lakes.

We talked of other life lessons we noticed on our wilderness trip. Later on, as we were meeting friends and family, I said to my 16-year-old grandson…”Hey, tell them a story and a life lesson from our BWCA trip. He did. Proud Grandpa here!

This morning, now two years and some change later, this experience came to mind, right in the middle of my morning reading and prayer. I picked up the phone and sent a text to my grandson, who was my canoe partner on that trip, now in college. “Are you keeping your spiritual paddle in the water?” His immediate reply “PADDLE RIGHTSIDE GRANDPA!

My prayer is to recognize shared life lesson experiences in all my relationships; and live, really live, to tell them. I love to hear “grandpa, I told my friend this story!”

Gary

Wilderness Wander

Four of us. two canoes and 4 packs for 6 days. 55 miles and 25 portages in the wilderness. Trip #72 for me. Trip #1 was 45 years ago as I write this. I guess I qualify as an old guy portaging and paddling through the rugged wilderness known as the Boundary waters Canoe Area Wilderness. I marked our route and took a picture. In these 1,090,000 acres of wilderness area, I have paddled, skied, snowshoed and fished over half with various groups. I have stories, some of which I can share.

Like most trips, Our small group of 4 experienced challenge, growth, pain, exhilaration, great conversations and life lessons seen in nature. Our stories will keep rippling out with time.

A physical challenge. Deeply spiritual. Senses overloaded. Relationally priceless. My grandson will remember many life lessons and experiences for his whole life. A part of my life will continue through him long after I am gone. The ripples from one side of life continue to the other shore.

Highlights include fresh fried lake trout, being pinned down on an island in a big lake with high winds, rounding a corner into a jaw dropping sunset, making camp and cooking in the dark. At least 100 more highlights. Oh…and seeing the diving rocks again and camping with a 16-year-old grandson on a campsite his mother camped when she was 16…oh yes, the stories-ripples continue…

More to come

Gary

Winter Spring Summer

All in 30 days. 3 seasons duked it out. Sub zero temperatures to ninety degrees (f). Now it’s spring again today it was frosty in places as the sun came out to warm the new plants. Click on winter pictures to enlarge and forward. captions should show up as well. Our spring winter storm came with high winds and colored us a deep white.

Spring again for a couple days yielded to extreme heat for northern Minnesota. mosquitoes and wood tics loved the heat. I about died. Thankfully after a few days spring came back from the arctic I assume. Buds, leaves and flowers said “YES” in unison. My camera finally quit shivering and said “lets do it”. Below is a gallery of spring around our place. I spent a couple days in rain and sun taking a few shots whenever the winds would die down...enjoy

Every variety of plant seems to have it’s own shade of green. The creative variety is absolutely astounding. I am peering at specific pieces of nature, framing with my camera and focusing on one of a million objects to pick. I must admit honestly that I am on sacred ground.

Gary

Did you see my only indoor shot of the petunia and the window reflection? How about the moon rolling down the spruce limb? Did you ever wonder why a woodpecker spends time pecking in the lawn? Can you find the 5 kinds of very small spring flowers that grow in the lawn grass? Oh, and I think that tom turkey needs help finding the flock of hens…maybe they ditched him.

Creativity Challenged

Sheets of rain covered the ground. Little rivers began to wander where they shouldn’t. They wandered back and forth in strange directions from my perspective. “Little rivers of creativity” I thought. “I resemble this”. I sit with my computer to write, or slide onto the piano seat with pen and paper to write a song. I hope one of those little rivers of brand-new creativity flows from me straight and true upon my command. Maybe you can relate??

Yes, my water stream froze overnight…like my creativity sometimes

Awhile back I published a piece that stutter-started and flowed here and there out of my inner being. Just the words of a song. The music flowed. Most of the words came together. I was excited because I had always wanted to just hit a strong chord that demanded immediate resolve and start singing.

I wanted a piano interlude that challenged my poor stubby fingers (from an accident when young). I wanted deep meaning words from a simple concept title. I wanted three different musical types that would fit together as well as make the musician be inspired enough to repeat parts that seemed meaningful as the audience participated (I hoped they would as a natural response). I wanted a lot.

Don’t we all want a lot? We want to connect those big and little rivers of creativity with others. We want to make a difference. We all have our own list of outcome ingredients. Me? I want to be what the song suggests…in a good enough place to sing for my creator. I’m just thankful when my little rivers on earthy mind come together into a semblance of song…hope you enjoy this trickle of music, your style or not. A simple YouTube recording. I put a mic on the camera … Anytime Anywhere

Gary

I had had published the words on my Gods Ways Are Different Blog…this is a follow up with the music.

Seasonal War

Most of our snow is melted. Lakes are still frozen. The apple, birch and maple buds are bulging. Maple trees are starting to be tapped for the second time. It’s spring on the Calendar. Winter will still say “not so fast bucko” and storm away a couple more snowfalls (weather app proves me right…yep don’t go there).

Meanwhile, most things look dead. A walk in the woods confirmed that I would not get much for exciting spring photo shots, but there’s hope. Hey, people like hope. We were created with hope downloaded for all that wars the mind, soul and body.

I took a few shots of the dead, dying and hope. just click to enlarge and scroll.

I don’t know why some maples grow with black and white bark. I wonder why the trumpeter swans come north to lakes with solid ice. I don’t know how totally hollow ash trees can still be alive and thrive for decades or why some grass stays green all winter. I look at a spring sunrise glowing through the balsam boughs and see that the ice puddles have lost their water underneath to soak into the ground. I know that spring is coming. It’s a “sure hope” based on little evidences everywhere. Even if it snows again and again, it will melt, and the maple sap will run, and the buds will bloom or leaf out. I know.

The trumpeter swans know that the ice one night will turn into a liquid by morning. The deer will drop their fawns soon, the leaf growth will turn the woods green and the forest floor will grow green and turn all autumn leftovers into humus. Every year the war is fought and won by spring. Winter can only beat fall.

Every spring I take my walks into this seeming dead zone and think of the template of our physical and spiritual struggles. Natures template with sure outcomes. God’s Easter template with a sure outcome. I would love to bring you along sometime. These kinds of discussions work well around the campfire or just over coffee.

The Easter war. The death. The resurrection. A sure victory. The deception war over Jesus resurrection, Still raging. Like where I live in the Northwoods, winter and spring still raging. Spring wins. God wins, a sure hope. I know.

Gary

Afterthought: I cannot take a picture of God, neither can I take a picture of wind. Then again…maybe I have.

Appearances

Looks cold. Looks windy. It was. I opened both house doors to get outside and hung on. Our little dog Buddy whined and then said in perfect dog English “can I just use your bathroom?” We walked sideways for two miles down the 300-yard-long drive to the mailbox. Well, I walked while Buddy did one mile in his slippery booties on the hardpack icy driveway. The other mile Buddy chased a rabbit that sat under the sawmill while watching this little white dog run in place at the end of his leash. I cheered Buddy on and pulled the leash toward the mailbox in the -60 (f) cross-wind-chill.

I stood in front of the empty mailbox mumbling “neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet…” The mail slogan must have changed or maybe a two-day holiday I don’t know about. Maybe they are trying to work from home? When I raced Buddy home he cheated by leaving a slipper at the mailbox. I went back outside and retrieved his bootie while he watched from the picture window. I am quite sure I made him feel bad as I also picked up several sticks from the snowbanks that he refused to bring back to me over the last cold week. Fetch is a pretend word. Buddy is the only dog I know that grins when he feels bad.

Sigh…There are so many things in this world that are not what appears to be. So many people…I had the oddest thought while Buddy was running in place at the end of the leash “don’t judge me by my dog”. I suppose that goes for parents and kids, teachers and students, and yes… Jesus and his followers. I’m one of them. Sometimes I run in place and get nowhere thinking I’m somebody. None of us really mean to be who we are when we are not being nice.

Meanwhile the fish are biting, the birds are navigating north and the Calander is whispering warm thoughts to winter.

By the way, fried up northern pike fish eggs this time of year are great (depends on who you ask). I caught this pike on a spoon hook with 30 lb test line tied to a stick I cut from the woods…It works…click on the fish picture to enlarge

Gary

Expression

My thoughts through a camera lens as family opened gifts.

A creation word. Expression. Facial art in a smile, frown or other muscle configuration. Frost, snow, rain, rays of sun on landscapes and filtering through grasses or dense forests. Genesis. “In the beginning God created” it all. Wow…our kids express this…Love, Joy, Peace and sometimes patience is a real thing in this family. I wish I could take the DNA credit. Only God can do that. Evidence in expression.

I put together a slide show of a week of the expressive in my life here in northern Minnesota. I came away feeling blessed with family, beauty and an appreciation for good winter wear. Click on any picture to enlarge. hit the side arrows to advance.

Caught unaware, we and all of creation seems to be expressing the moment. Looking over a couple hundred pictures, I was deeply moved to see the love and laughter, with the banter, our kids and grandkids have for one another. They reflect God’s love and care in everyday expression.

A good start for 2025. I think there are hints of God’s character in natures expressions. I’m hoping there is in mine.

Gary

“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good….” Genesis 1:31

When Life Is Cold

I am reminded how cold life can get. Four recent funerals came and went between friends and family and a couple more will come soon. We all die, and I ask myself how much I have really lived? How much am I really living now?? Maybe that’s not even a good question. How warm are my relationships with family, friends and God? This might be a better question.

I thought the question was worth a post with some cold pictures weather wise. One should have a warm heart otherwise. What or who makes your heart warm? Will that warmth last forever? We were created for that forever kind of warmth. Something way beyond our imagination (my thoughts as I sit with a grieving friend).

Currently the lakes are frozen, and the migrating birds are gone. For us it’s winter. Our snow might last somewhere between mid-march… to almost May 2025. Occasionally we get a January thaw as a teaser for a couple weeks to lure the retired folks back from a beach somewhere.

I took a few pictures to share in case you might want a winter vacation this way. I think we have a great place to enjoy as long as you bring some warm clothes and love some crisp air…click on one to enlarge into slide show.

“I’m missing my wife’s presence” said my friend as we shared coffee in his house. “Thanks for the firewood. I had no time to get ready for winter while caring for her.”

We just sat and warmed up after unloading firewood. “I don’t know how people make it through hard times in life without God” said my friend. “Life can be cold”…I agreed. “She just changed clothes. She exchanged her mortal for the immortal model….sigh”

Gary

Meandering Through Autumn

To meander is anticultural. Think about being in the grocery store or on the freeway. These people grate on society. Bill yourself as a “meandering comedian” and you will be hustled off stage by a “handler.” Stop to take pictures of a flower on a state park walking trail and you will soon hear “out of my way, coming through,” as a 90 -old-skinny granny with two walking sticks glares by. “What part of walking trail do people not understand?” she loudly mutters.

Stories like this keep me off the beaten path. I meander like most of nature does. “Rabbit trails” are a bad thing in public speaking. Real rabbits can travel a mile and only go 40 yards. Deer zig zag as they forage through the woods. It seems only predators in the woods cover ground like us humans. I think I have only learned how to meander when I have a camera in hand. Come meander with me.

Take time to meander. Explore the depths of our culture’s thoughts beyond the sound bytes. Relationships need meandering time. This year has blown by like our hiking granny. Be mesmerized by God’s creation around us…trust meandering to allow you into the depths of life and your purpose for being here.

Gary

SEASONED

Wilderness canoe expedition #70 for me. The visible part of me made it back to civilization. Reflections from one’s memories shimmer and dissipate quickly unless held onto by my minds pondering hands.

I still see the first light stealthily through the thick fog. I replay the invisible swan honks, haunting loons, beaver slaps, eagles chirping, fish splash and otter chatter in surround sound. Very wild. A part of me will never leave.

The imagination memory reflections are as real as the landscape refracted on the still waters. Be still my soul….

Gary

more to come when I process about 300 pictures and gather some memories and thoughts as I unpack. I sure hope I don’t find a stowaway chipmunk in one of my packs…I’ll post more free downloadable pictures on my unsplash site