Outside Of Time

I have been gone. A small group of us canoed and portaged lakes and rivers away from knowing what time it is, internet wrangling, home, warm showers, soft beds, cars and most forms of communication to the rest of the world. Do smoke signals from the camp fire count? The wilderness is it’s own entity and one would be wise to learn an awareness of it’s ways.

I’ll write about it in a few days and catch up on 300+ emails and mow the lawn. meanwhile I’ll leave you with a couple pictures of God’s very rugged creation in this area of northern Minnesota known as the Boundary Waters canoe Area Wilderness. Header picture is a slice of our first evening in camp. In realistic context this feel good picture was tempered a bit by hundreds of mosquitoes and black flies yelling “goal…goal…goal”

Just a taste of an extremely rugged, harsh, beautiful, survival of the fittest-just try to bloom where planted-area. I am reminded of that the wilderness is much like the character of God; totally untamed.

If you haven’t missed me, that’s ok….Life goes on.


Cabin Fever Withdrawal

Expectations and reality. A good example of what it isn’t was sent to me by a friend who is getting a bit off kilter. “Day 12 without chocolate; lost hearing in left eye”. I passed it on to another friend who said “That’s it exactly!” I sent them both a number to call for a nice facility and the website for a virtual tour. They both surprised me and said “I have that number and website already, would you like to come with us for an interview?” Strangest interview ever, I had to answer all the questions for them. I got a cool bracelet when a friend said I was probably a “runner.”

Anyway, I’m side tracked a little bit by the masquerade called Spring. See for yourself. I even strung some words together, kind of like popcorn off the bottom of the bowl on a couple pieces of fishing line. If I seem a bit daffy, it’s that several inches of rain melting a foot of snow yelling “coming through” on it’s way to the gulf of Mexico from our small patch of land here in the north woods and lakes area. Then it snowed, got cold, froze, now it’s raining again and will snow again. I have been secretly meeting with summer after everyone falls asleep.

winter spring summer

Meet in woods summit

While gurgling waters rise.

Winter jewelry dangles

Spring runs down

Summer suns patient

A birthing room frown

Morning crackle sighs

Wears frosted icy gown

Trick a tree freeze frame

A beauty upside down

Yes, it’s spring dragging winter with one leg sensing summers invisible presence

Click to enlarge and short slide show

Somewhere under the flood is a three foot wide by two foot deep gently flowing river. I think of myself as more the gently flowing stream; not too wide or deep and fairly predictable. Well, maybe we should change the word “predictable” to “well meaning”.

I’m Okay. Really. Life is good here in the woods. I had a strange adventure getting back home from being ditched by my friends (another time story). Any advice on getting one of these strange ankle bracelets off?


Picture a Ping Pong Spring

Right now we are on the “pong.” for the 11th time. Last night the weatherman drew a big circle around our area on the northern Minnesota with a “to be determined” announcement as the time approaches. If this…then that type statements gave me a ray of hope for that profession. I have to admit, honesty is much more attractive than putting a spin on reality.

Ahh, reality. I’m watching the players around us here in nature with such a prolonged spring. Last night I went down to the lake to attempt a sunset reflection picture in an open spring. The rest of the lake (maybe) has two feet of ice. I took some pictures as beavers interrupted me. I listened and looked for the pack of wolves down the shoreline made throaty moans and long howls in the still air. They will choose a deer, pursue and take it down. They are extremely good at their craft.

Take a peek at some very recent pictures of spring. Thaw, snow, freeze, melt. Click to enlarge and for a clickable slide show.

I am a bit jealous of the many pictures of spring from somewhere else where buds, flowers and green grass (I think you call it) abound.

Speaking of reality…I told my wife a couple days ago, for her birthday I was going to get on my personal top secret “time machine” and document going forward and coming back. I would then report to her when spring would actually come to the north woods where we live. I documented it with this picture of me in my red checkered shirt and hat on… I have to turn the pedals quite fast to get there as you can see. I am also barely in the picture coming back.

Me and me… not photoshopped or layered. I can explain if interested

My report “I’m sorry honey, I could only go two weeks ahead and there is still rain and snow happening and the flowers are not pushing up through the snow”

On a personal note, I’m tired of the winter spring run-off in their 3rd overtime; so are the animals and birds. The geese, swans and ducks are all finding little puddles of water to remember how to swim. I see the beaver are hungry and have cut about 15 smaller trees down. I had a small lens in low light taking pictures and they were very close to me. I heard one say to the other “I think we can take him”. The deer, um, well, I can’t repeat what the deer said when I got too close to their little field.


PS…many of these pictures and more can be downloaded free from this link unsplash

Also, if you have not read my real life story dealing with an Angry Beaver I show my humorous side…enjoy

What Do You want?

I hope this helps the comment section of your own blog posts

Then blowing wet spring snow streaks the picture.

Turning from the newspaper touting the spring and summer clothing lines and swimwear “now in a store near you”, I glanced outside and muttered to Buddy the dog, “They sure don’t know what I want.” Buddy just whined and looked out the patio door wanting to play on the back deck in the 4″ of new snow. I stopped and took a “Buddy view” picture.

Buddy View picture out the patio door. 12″ predicted in next three days, but melting as well.

I opened the laptop and browsed emails. I noticed a comment from the last blog; a fun one as Nancy said “Your responses to commenters are every bit as insightful as your posts, Gary!” I sure appreciate that kind of comment because it means I might actually be connecting with total strangers that are getting less and less strange as we interact after the post. By the way, side note…yes read Nancy’s “Turnings” for a great way to present depth to a great insight”

Others have said similar things and I have always wanted to address this layer of blogging that many writers miss out on (possibly on purpose), thus my question “What Do You Want?” This question cuts past questions like “why do I write?” It goes for what you, in all your writings, are hoping to gain by posting your articles.

Bloggers often present swimwear in a snowstorm, to a percentage of readers; It’s the nature of strangers writing to strangers. If you want to know what turns your readers crank, strike up a conversation with them; either in your comment section or theirs. Tactfully. Tastefully. Come alongside and talk on whatever the comfort level they have with you (not necessarily you with them). Perhaps a friend in the making. Surely we can find some common ground with a quarter of the audience?

Yep still snowing outside. I need snow pants and a better shovel, not a swimsuit!

Think of going to class and listening (or not) to a nice, thought through, short, good, great, or boring and wordy lecture (whatever you decided to read). You usually do one of three things. 1) Go talk to the presenter, ask questions or make statements 2) leave without saying a word to anyone 3) hobnob with anyone or everyone else hanging around the perimeter and get to know some folks. One and three are the comment sections of a blog. There are perhaps dozens of blogs I will not go back to as the presenter doesn’t visit their own comment section. When they do it’s a smile and wave (click “like”)

So, what do I want? I want to share my pictures and life’s insights. I want to create conversations leading to friendships with some of the worlds most awesome people around the globe (you). I want to be a part of your next best seller or just help you get through chemo as a sideline encourager. I want to hear of your camping and hiking experiences and the storms you have encountered and survived. I want to see you face to face and be continuing this conversation a hundred years from now!

I know; bloggers are as plentiful as snowflakes and most of us make at least a small difference in this world.

One more thing, present to us readers something we can comment on. None of us are the beginning and the end as that position belongs to God. It’s a learned art to present an idea, insight, story, meanings and encouragements and turn the microphone back toward the audience. It’s a learned and practiced skill to be vulnerable without painting a target on yourself. Boldly top off your blog with uplifting comments that come alongside if possible. Don’t be like the cowboy riding off into the sunset without saying a word; us horses don’t want that!


Be a Buddy

Um, Why is the snow back???

North Country Spring

I realized it was spring this morning when I looked out the window and saw patches of ground growing in the snow. Five squirrels ran by the woods edge as one of them was saying he remembers where he buried some nuts.

The lake ice is holding all the snow melt so I had to disassemble my ice fishing shanty while standing in 8″ of water which is held by 25″ of ice still on the lake. I found some open holes in the ice so I kept a wide berth. Meanwhile a couple of early spring swans are shouting encouragement from the far shore as I am in the middle of their swimming pool.

Hey Swans, you are a little early

The wind has even started to feel warm in the north country and the whole earth has shifted gears for the bottomless muddy patches ahead. Not all is well in the world seems to be an understatement.

I have a file called “Hope”. Do we not all need “Spring” in our lives? Click on any picture to enlarge or start a slide show.

Meanwhile, the swans are still talking. I can hear them from the deck wondering why the lake is still covered with ice. There may be snow in the forecast, frost and much to melt, but make no mistake, spring is here. Hope is here

On a personal note, it’s been a tough winter here. Lots of deep snow has hurt the deer population and also deprived lakes from the sun. The oxygen producing weeds die and the remaining oxygen is used in decay producing “winter kill.” The wolves that survived as well as the bear waking up from hibernation will clean up the woods and the eagles will clean up the lakes. Nature is efficient without blinking. Instinct, it is what it is. People however are different.

Our family, extended to cousins, uncles and aunts, has been dealing with a plane crash (miraculous survival story for another time for her to tell), personal connections to the war, memory loss on two fronts and a host of other life’s seasonal things. Every family system has their front line issues. We freeze, thaw, bud and blossom, and at some point we die. My wife and I miss our parents deeply.

My wife and I often talk about the substance of faith and hope. Not the fluffy beliefs or the religious mantras; they belong with Santa clause and the Easter bunny. Yes, we are Jesus followers and yes, all our faith and hope is based on his life, death and resurrection. If that didn’t happen we have nothing. Our “substance” discussion is our own experience in having joy in the throes of sorrow and loss. There is substance in experiencing peace in the middle of our most turbulent times (like life flighting a daughter). It’s real.

This is why spring means so much to me. It’s way more than meets the eye. It’s way more than nature calling “clean up on lake 10, need more eagles!” It’s even more than a 180 pound timber wolf moaning deep in it’s throat as it’s almost dark, just beyond eyesight, and that chills me deep into my bones.


STA…Story Tellers Anonymous

I picked one of my first blogs to compare. It’s time to see how far my writers drift (that I just wrote about here) has gone. I think I’m someone else. The following is a blog I wrote 10 years ago on April fools day back when I just started and none of my readers would click the “like” button. It was OK. I didn’t know what the like button was for back then. The jury is out (I mean far out…). The links still work, yea!

Monster Pike from a canoe, no net on 1# test, old fiberglass rod, fish was trying to eat the canoe!!!

I thought it was a great idea! I could start an outdoors club in our area under the guise of “Storytellers Anonymous”Cretian Certain relatives and friends would pay us to go!!!It would probably be a great fund raiser for the next high school band trip!

I can see it now; Johnny to old aunt mae“I’m raising funds to send our band to Washington DC to play for the president” Aunt Mae “I’m not paying you kids any money do such a thing!” Johnny “please Aunt mae, If we raise $1000 apiece our dads have to go to Storytellers ananymous  for a whole year”. Aunt Mae “I’ll give you $2000 myself to see that happen” Johnny “but I only need $1000”, Aunt Mae “I want him there for two years and he can’t get off for good storytelling”

fiberglass canoe, food pack, front tackle bag, mile long portages, 30 miles into uninhabited wilderness… Don’t stick your fingers in the water You will lose them to the hungry fish!

Just my way of helping all those outdoors people hobnob and plan their next outings and socially connect with the “others”. Of course they promise to learn how to tell their adventures in such a way that words, phrases, facial expression, and gestures would make people come alive, hanging vicariously on every word that came out of our mouths. “So Real, I’m living it, I could listen forever” would be common expressions of friends, enemies, and other relatives of those involved with the secret club know as “Storytellers Anonymous” (eye roll please except uncle Fred. That  one glass eye of yours doesn’t roll with the other one and that freaks me out).

-20 below zero 3 feet of ice, fish photoshopped to fit in picture! H… We are working on your story… STA

We would help each other with the proper embellishments due to the story. The logic behind embellishment is that a told story is not even close to the same as living it. I propose that proper embellishment can help the listener almost experience the excitement, fears, nightmares that night,and adrenaline (OK I haven’t worked the adrenaline part out yet) that accompanies good story telling techniques. One reaches a whole new level of holding the audience breathless when you believe the story yourself. Just a heads up: psychologists disagree with me on where that level is, and have strange beliefs  about the really good story tellers and where they should live

Now this is a fish story!!!

Now I know this fish was caught through two feet of ice in three feet of water on a stick with some line on it. You should hear him tell it!

Being I am posting this on April fools day, Those of you who do not know me in person but read the blogs – know I would never exaggerate on any other day(cough-hack-twinge of TGIA1st).

For another good April 1st blog, check out my niece Elena’s here
Yes the Billy Joel kid can fish.   pictured above (I’m mixing in Elena’s blog here)

Someday some of my extreme wilderness bear stories and wild rescue stories will be told here and only here. No one else has the rights to my life’s adventures so only at www.Garyfultz.com can you get it…or around a campfire at night on one of my trips. I will tell you about how a bear got our food pack hanging 15 feet in the air between two trees, grabbed most of the food. I went after the bear with a flashlight in my teeth at 2AM and got it back. True story but working on reverse embellishments or you really wouldn’t believe me. Maybe I’ll tell it like it is because I believe it!

Have a good April Fools day! 

If you would like to learn how to write better than me, do nothing. However if you want to get good at it I strongly recommend Kristen Lambs blogs on writing and social networking. Good stuff

Advertisment: Top secret photo-shop lessons given next STA meeting


Conclusion: Sigh…I think I have grown old and more serious. Life beat us up quite a bit in 10 years. parents now gone, a good friend gone, life flights with our middle daughter, 2 surgeries and a job loss. Lots of floundering. I think I need to recapture some humor. Seriously! go ahead, comment away those who have read my posts before. I can t-t-ta-take it.

Wander Into Wonder

I wonder about wonder and wander here and there.

Large fluffy flakes with no wind in subzero temps perched loosely wherever. The most fragile of loosely knit flakes. Rare. A thousand flakes might equal one raindrop. Brilliant white cotton candy snow. I long to share what can’t be seen. Words fall as short as time with eternity.

Click for enlarging pictures and wandering through. Enjoy the perspectives and maybe feel a bit of wonder from my recent wander-about in the thigh deep snow.

To wonder is one of my personal signs; creativity levels, another sign. It means I am Okay inside. When life is hard and cold and I wander into wonder, there is joy in my innermost being.

It’s not the snow or nature or the wonder of it all, it’s the wonder in me that can enjoy natures wonder beyond words expressed.

Wonder meets wonder, acknowledging the artistic beauty, longing for more. Knowing I am alive, really alive. I have barely any significance (outside of those who know and accept me), or want any, from a world of billions of people. I know and am known by my Creator. Pure wonder.

Some, like my mother, wander to their wonder in the garden. Dad found wonder in the earth planting and harvesting. Some wonder in the shop or the kitchen and others on mountains, lakes and rivers. Always though, at it’s best, there’s more. When one has experienced the best of the best of times, there’s more.

Go ahead…comment away on your wonder and your more…


PS: I’ll put some of these pictures in the full version on my free download Unsplash page for your use.

Picture Me This

After soaking in Mitch Teemley’s “The Unbending Beauty Of Winter” (very much worth the read as well as the great pictures), I was inspired to run outside and take a picture that might not only describe but made one feel an aspect of winter; Cold. Never mind that it was 52 degrees below the freezing mark (-20 f), and, the wind chill doubled that number. Then it got colder.

I took some pictures while it was really cold. I even have a slide show of old and new pictures taken in the cold….see! (Click on any picture to enlarge for slideshow)

I found something odd. I could take a picture of winter but it didn’t look cold. Every object was still the same, only with snow on it. I could not take a picture of a bird or a deer because they are handling the cold and actually built for it. If I took a picture of my bare feet on the deck in the snow it didn’t look cold. It looked 100 degrees warmer that it actually was. Then after melting snow a little bit my feet froze. Then I stepped on the frozen metal threshold. Yes, it’s as bad as sticking one’s tongue on the flagpole (car door handle in my case) in below zero weather.

If you see me walking around on my knees instead of my feet, it’s not an indication that I am a Holy Man always praying.

All the bad storms, tornados and cold weather seem to be a visual illustration of the heart of our nation, as well as the rest of the world. It’s growing much colder out there. Sadly we see pictures of it every day. I would take a snowstorm any day compared to the twitter storms, the hatred of political leaders and media people.

When we see these things, hit the off button. There’s a better way!

Look for pictures of one person helping another. It happens all the time. Last week when it was really cold (-60 wind chill) a lady I know invited a stranger to sleep on her couch. A truck driver was going to curl up in his idling truck in the gas station parking lot. Different skin color, 600 miles from home, first job out of prison, not used to the cold weather but very used to the coldness of racial tension. By the time he left, the whole family (even her husband) had adopted him and he them.

I love her explanation. “I would never do a thing like that on my own but I just felt moved to tap this guy in front of me in the convenience store line and ask him if he had a place to stay tonight. Then I called my husband and told him we had company for supper and overnight. I knew it was Jesus moving me, I just knew I was safe, so I would not take no for an answer from the trucker or my husband.” A funny-moving story in real life not many will hear, but is somewhat common in some circles.

So, picture me this America. Land of spacious skies, freedom and home of the brave. At least you Jesus followers…how about “Love one another as I have loved you” John 13:34

Turns out our truck driver had found and followed Jesus in prison, but was adrift in the big cold world not having found any support. He found God’s warming love from an unlikely stranger on one of the coldest nights winter could bring. That saga will continue…

 “Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we  see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you?  And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them,  Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” Matthew 25:37-40


Note: All pictures taken in our front or back yard or on the lake nearby. Feel free to check out my Gods Way are Different blog. I also have pictures for free download here on Unsplash. Right now as I type this, a yearling doe has bedded for the night beside the garden shed and almost under the charcoal grill out of the brutal -50 wind chills (picture taken out the window as not to disturb).

Parallels and Candy Bars

I saw the three boys in the church foyer with their mother. Now they were men. They looked older and smiled less than the last time I had seen them. They were all looking at me to see if I recognized them. Would I say anything? acknowledge them? Their mother was oblivious to the dynamic of her sons here in this place. It was Christmas eve service early afternoon. I smiled and greeted them and said “it’s been 10 years hasn’t it?” They gathered around as if it were 20 years earlier, ages five to 10. Smiles came. Mom noticed and trusted their smiles. A flood of memories disjointed with what could have been for these boys.

55 years earlier little Johnny and I had parallel lives in many ways. Being Johnny was a few years older, I was able to buy his abused three speed bike from him so he could get a 10 speed. I wanted a faster bike to get to work 5 miles to mow the fairways on the local 9 hole golf course. A couple years later I bought Johnnies 40 pound recurve bow to hunt deer as Jonny didn’t ever use it. I used it. Three years later I talked dad into getting Johnnies motorcycle that he was selling (don’t get me going on motorcycle stories). I looked up to Johnny and his best friend Jim until one day I didn’t anymore. The parallel was gone, pathways in life changed. I changed and veered a hard right from John’s path.

John and I both attended kids club, church and youth group. My life was being greatly influenced. I remember the day clearly when my eyes were opened. It was a church spring clean-up day on a fine Saturday and all was well until John and friend Jim found the candy bar stash for kids club awards. They were the coveted treat earned by one of 4 teams each week. The team with the most points got a candy bar. Winning games, memorizing bible verses and finishing work book sections gave these candy bars gold medal status. When John and Jim found and took the candy bars, I was perplexed. It was wrong on principle of stealing but also on trampling the sacred ground of the winners circle. The worst part is it seemed there was no decision to it, like a dog finding a scrap of meat under the table or a cat running across a mouse.

However John got this way, I wanted no part of it.

John’s three little boys liked me. They were not raised as well as John was. They began going to church with mom, only once in awhile, until she left. Kids club was their life line but that fell away as John had fallen into drinking too much (too many meat scraps under the table I guess). I saw them in their small boat on the lake and would tell them what the fish were biting on. They loved to tell me their fish stories when I would see them at a men’s breakfast or on the street. They would gather around.

Down through the years I grew into leadership in most jobs I had. John drifted through life working here and there and getting fired was a pattern. He tried to raise the boys with all his might. He really did. He loved those boys. Evidently strong drink loved him more and finally won. He died running out of money to build his dream house. While he drank his sons in their teens were attempting electrical, plumbing and Sheetrocking themselves.

Don’t ever think the taking of a candy bar is no big deal

It’s been 10 years. It appears the boys recognize they have some decisions to make. There will always be candy bar finds; meat scraps if you will. The boys will have to decide if they are going to just be religious or if they will grow in a relationship with God who will set them free. I still see that hunger in their eyes if I look closely. I would like to think I saw it.

We walked into the church for a candle light Christmas eve service. The 3 boys and I and a hundred more people would hear(among other things) a talk given by my son, whose life parallels mine in so many ways more than Johns. Who has also had candy bar choices in life, who challenged us to know God, hear God’s voice and obey with some great personal stories. The boys are similar age to my son, their paths are different. I am so proud of my son’s path and the thousands of choices to get there (now he has three small sons becoming??)

When I was 15 I gave a talk to about 30 of my peers about knowing God and following Him. John sat in the back snickering with a couple others. I was not hurt other than hurting for him. These were my thoughts as my son was speaking 56 years later, as the boys and their mom were listening. What if they really heard? What if 2022 will find them veering off the parallel path shown them?

Sow a thought, reap an action. Sow an action, reap a habit. Sow a habit, reap a character. Sow a character, reap a destiny.

Psalm 16:11 “You will make known to me the path of life;
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
In Your right hand there are pleasures forever.”

May we not help anybody find their way (they already have that). Bring them into the winners circle, God’s way



I should know better then to follow the weather forecast too close. I end up with a narrow band of expectations. I saw the huge system on screen that would hang over us for quite a few hours. I heard it could produce on average an inch of snow per hour. I did the math and that’s a lot of snow. If my math was correct we would get over 20″ of snow. The weather person predicted 4-8″.

After 4 hours of snowing I took a picture of our 25 pound dog exploring 7″ of new snow and the storm was just starting. After lunch three hours later I shoveled off both decks and took some pictures at 16″ and still coming down heavily. The weather person really should have done the math. We are now close to 20″. I will readily admit, the snow is beautiful but I had different plans and expectations for the day. After all don’t expectations affect reality somehow??

Expectations really are one of life’s themes. Some people come much closer to reality in their expectations than others.

I still tell the story (I’m retired now) of a person who walked into our work place and said “I’ve decided I really want to work here.” I walked them over to our operations manager and introduced them. Knowing I would be in on the interview process, I stuck around as this person repeated they wanted to work at our facility.

When asked to supply a resume and be open to three interviews they simply said “no need to do that because I have decided I want to work here“. The hiring manager said “Thanks, we will call you when we need you, we will need to talk!” This brought on an obvious question by our wana-be new hire “you don’t even know my number”. A big smile and reply “exactly, have a nice day”

Expectations: A friend of mine asked an 18 year old last week what kind of job field he would like to go into after college. Response: I’m not going to college or get a job, the government will give me money. My friend: “We need to talk”

Expectations: I reacquainted with a retired friend I used to work with in our younger days. I asked how his retirement was going. This was his sad answer; “I retired with a lot of money so my wife and I could do things together and have fun doing things we didn’t have time for when we were working all those years. She doesn’t want to do anything with me. I’m not having fun and it’s her fault!” I said, “about that, we need to talk”

It seems every day I fuel my tank with present and future expectations. The vehicles I own, the food I eat, friends and family fulfilling promises made, safety, health, prayers fulfilled and going to heaven when I die. Yep Lord, “I’ve decided I really want to live in heaven when life is over and I’ve had a great life.”

God: “We need to talk!