garyfultz

BWCAW Adventure Expectations

Being it was not my first wilderness canoe adventure trip, I had some expectation baggage. Being human I pretend to have no baggage. I no sooner stepped out of the vehicle and said in my best drawl “well aaawl be, there’s mosquitoes, deer flies, horse flies and black flies here.” I slapped and flailed till I found some over promoted bottled bug deterrent while picking off a wood tic.

By the time we had our packs filled and into the canoes to shove off, none of us had any pretense left in our bloodstream. It was smeared on our face and arms and clothes. We could have been models for face painting day at a kindergarten class.

I might exaggerate a bit

Once on the lake though the senses go into reverie mode with the pristine water, air, the rugged shores and constant scenic views. My camera was shaking with excitement before I got it out of the bag. The canoe even started screeching it’s excitement till I realized we had hit a Jesus rock (stand on it and it looks like you are walking on the water) and the bottom of the canoe was loosing it’s paint.

Every trip has some overlap in experiences. There are the portages! you unload all your packs, and anything not strapped to the canoe and carry it all over land on a narrow rocky trail to the next body of water. We pack two packs per canoe plus life jackets, paddles and fishing rods for one trip over most portages. One person takes the heavy pack and the other a light pack and the canoe. You die if not in good physical shape. I have personally died several times. The ones who don’t die revive you, so they don’t have to carry everything plus you out. Yep, great expectations, and then you get thirsty and hungry.

Fishing, catching, rugged beauty, cooking over the fire, sleeping on rocks and roots, new species of bugs that bite, water reflections, rock formations, plant life and wonders of nature overflow expectations. The wonder of it all is like building blocks of insignificance while loosening my own importance. One’s pride unties like a shoestring in the reflective properties of stark honesty. Nature truly doesn’t care. Life is as tenacious about living as death is in dying. One way or the other the meaning of life comes to mind.

I love reflection(s). Seeing natures reflections off the water as well as letting all these things that I have seen and experienced reflect to the corners of my mind. I do not doubt that everything seen in nature reflects life in many ways shapes and forms.

As my pictures show, nature isn’t very perfect, but it sure goes after it with more hope than expectation. The seeds that fall into the smallest rock crevices can become a huge tree splitting the rock apart with its roots. The chewed off beaver birch stump grows new shoots from it’s roots and may well turn into a clump of birch trees all vying for nutrients and sunlight. The limbs of the cedar go out and out and bend upward hoping to catch a few rays of sun.

As I watch the sun set in reflective thought. expectations come to me I did not know I had. I know in my head life owes us nothing. Mother nature is not very mothering. God owes us nothing, but I owe Him everything.

Gary

Shades of Green

How many shades of green are there? It’s a question I ponder as I gaze in wonder at the earths recovery from winter here in the northland parts of USA.

We use the word “green” in all areas of life. Mentally, physically , socially and spiritually. Looking at our present world one could think we have a bunch of greenhorns spending huge greenbacks on a mostly green planet seeking greener days beside the still waters without a shepherd.

I recently helped fight a fire and came back to see what survived and what didn’t. The dead stuff burned. The living plants and trees with a good root system, and some substance was singed, but survived well. Green is a sign of life!

Look at the little green tree. A survivor of the fire.

This is the kind of picture that my father would point out to us as kids along with all the life applications he could think of. “I hope you kids become like this little tree. The hard times only singe you instead of burn you up!

I sure want to be like that little tree. I want that kind of green. I want to be like the tree in Psalm1. Green also symbolizes immortality; eternal life verses ashes.

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous; for the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish. (Psalm 1)

A tree. Remembering dad, Knowing what it means to be a follower of Jesus

Gary

Who Woulda Thunk

The sun came up to a cloudless sky this morning and it started snowing. Totally weird. I thought it was frost coming off the trees. I guess at 20 degrees (Fahrenheit) the moisture in the air began falling out of the sky in the form of snowflakes up to 1 1/2 inches big. I tried to take a picture. Don’t judge my skills yet please…

Sometimes the unpredictable, weird or “didn’t see that coming” happens. I talked to four other guys in the area this morning and we all got the same kind of snow.

Look, an animal shaped snowflake on the deck. It measures an inch and a half. looks like several flakes bonded in the air.

Something else happened today that took me totally by surprise. I received my first “like” on a blog written 10 years ago. For all I know they were the first to read it. I wrote it under the assumption that if one writes something, others will read it. 10 years later I know better. Like all “Likes” received I had to look this person up. All the way from Germany (My home country on the Fultz side) a delightful artist found my old blog. Check out Roswitha’s delightful painting-artists blog depicting a modern day Emmaus walk after Easter click here. It’s worth it. I wonder if Roswitha is related distantly to several of my Geisler friends in northern Minnesota?

Me and one big Pike. we won’t swim in that lake anymore!

Please check out my old blog. My writing is changed a bit since then but I made a decent case for taking a wilderness adventure. I caught and released the big pike (pictured above) from a canoe on a wilderness adventure trip. Check out my old blog here It will be worth it as the pictures alone will make you want to go. I have a June BWCA trip (#65) planned.

Who would have thought that Ohio and other states would have their biggest snow storm (at this point of spring according to an old college room mate) in 120 years over night? As my grandfather used to say “Who Woulda Thunk”?

So…You and I. What are we still doing writing blogs? For what? It’s a question worth answering. 10 years of writing for me and I’m working on a book. Who Woulda Thunk? Not me.

10 years of learning how to write. Learning to connect with people in writing, edit out the 90% fluff, connect with people in their comments, figure out SEO, connect with people in their blogs, listen, learn and hear. Last of all, I feel as if I’m finally becoming connectable as a person. I care and just maybe it shows. WWT (I heard that grandpa).

Gary

Raging Waters Rescue

She sat above the small cliff on a bold mossy rock weeping over the angry flooded river scene below. Drenched and weak from her own capsized canoe experience she knew the big man in a back eddy current was floating toward the edge and would soon be taken under by the rushing white water into a mass of trees hanging on a house sized boulder. She knew she couldn’t help.

He was going to die. He knew it as he couldn’t swim. His life jacket was still strapped to the canoe seat and the big pack he was hanging on to was sinking. “Tell mom I love her!” His is two sons were barely hanging on to bent over saplings in the mad waters. They partially body surfed the churning foamy water. She cried louder as one of our guys picked up a canoe to portage to the lake above us laughed, and muttered “The poor sucker,” and walked away.

Normally this was a gentle, but fast, knee deep gurgling stream winding its way between lakes on the Canadian Minnesota border waters. Wilderness travelers like the early voyagers and various tribes had used this route for hundreds of years. Now, the river was carving a new path straight through the woods after seven inches of rain the night before. Where the churning waters took a hard right, several uprooted trees caught on a big house rock down the rapids looked like a terrifying way to die.

I and a couple of strong teenagers had just finished rescuing a couple of canoes, some packs and paddles from our own group getting across the river in a safer back eddy before coming close to the rapids. Our plan had worked. We had paddled upstream to the waterfall and paddled at an angle with the water flow from a back eddy on one side and caught a back eddy on the other side unscathed. The churning water was extremely fast and at last second two of our four canoes had tipped as they entered the back eddy.

Everyone wore their life jacket in our group and all we did was get totally wet. We were safe. Our gear and paddles were safe. Then came a big loud-mouthed man and his two college aged sons behind us to cross. I had urged them to put on their life jackets and directed them to the back eddy to run with the current. They refused and tried to cut straight across the river current. Their canoe was instantly rolled. The boys were pleading for dad to try. Dad gave up and went blank.

“Let’s rescue him” I said to the strapping teen next to me. “You’re nuts” he replied. “Are you going to be an Army Ranger or not” I yelled. “Let’s do it” he said. She cried “No” and wept all the more.

We cinched the life jackets and pushed into the heavy rolling waves of current. Adrenalin shot through us. I feared breaking our canoe paddles as we paddled hard to the edge of the waves on the other side, dangerously close to the down-sloped rapids edge. Approaching the dad, I saw he did not recognize help had come. He had that “eyes glazed over” look. When I spoke to him to grab our canoe but not to tip us, I saw him coil as if to spring at us. I saw the danger and I raised my paddle as if to hit him. He raised a hand to protect himself and said “I’m Ok, just help me”.

The next big danger was to drag a huge man to shore with just two paddles against the progressively stronger current before going over the edge. I saw we were not going to make it and urged the man to drop his pack as we were not making headway to shore. He wouldn’t let go. To this day I’m surprised that we made it within 15 feet of shore before going over the edge. In the last second another group of travelers came through, formed a human chain out and extended a long canoe paddle for the future Army Ranger to grab.

“Saved” is a good word. “Saved” is an unbelievable feeling being pulled from the foamy waters of death. Now she was sitting on the rock bawling in relief. Yes, “Saved” is beyond description, just ask her. She knows. Jesus knows.

The big man that two sons called dad was never thankful. He wouldn’t acknowledge he needed help in the waters of certain death. “Come on dad, at least say thank you” urged one of the sons after the family was reunited. “I was ok, I had it under control” was all he said. She, ranger and I debriefed with the wilderness group for the next six days. We are affected to this day. Risk-taking choices, dreams at night and life decisions make us gaze and ponder the elements of life and being saved.

As I am writing this, I sit in an easy chair with a cup of coffee and was ponder a couple verses in Psalm 27: 10b-11 “Do not leave me or abandon me God of my salvation. Even if my father and mother abandon me. The Lord cares for me”.

Jesus is the one with nail scarred hands outstretched to each one of us. When we hear “the poor sucker”, that’s not Jesus. When you are thinking “I’m in control”, I hope someone is on a rock crying and praying for you. Just remember… “Saved is a good word”

Gary

Really Living

I saw the bear coming in the almost dark wilderness campsite. My small band of teenagers I was leading through a long canoe route in the BWCA Wilderness had been exploring the lake shore, spotted him and ran back for camp a few seconds ago. I ran and grabbed the camera turning on the strobe flash hoping for a good closeup picture. I positioned myself between bear and food pack. The flash temporarily blinding him stopped him about 15 feet away, all while yelling for the teens to quick get the food pack up in the air. The rope was draped over a high limb, and the food pack was ready to pull up higher than a bear could reach, all they had to do was grab the rope and pull hard and fasten it off to a nearby tree.

Too late, the teens were in the lake trying to get away from the bear. The general consensus was “let the bear eat Gary.” The bear had run behind a big sloping rock shaking his head while trying to see. I ran up the sloping rock a few feet higher than the bear, when he looked up at me, I flashed the strobe again to further blind him. Agitated he ran back to where he was before and I once again ran between bear and food pack. The 3rd strobe flash in the bears eyes was the closest but thankfully something snapped in his bear brain that said, “I’m out of here.” He turned around and ran straight into a tree. Umph. Bouncing off he broke brush and made all kinds of noise including snapping his teeth to show his displeasure as he ran into the darkening evening forest. The teenagers became suddenly very brave as they came out of the lake, raced past me yelling and whooping after the bear. I watched them disappear into the brush. I heard them stop as it was suddenly very quuiet andquite dark in those woods. I yelled after them “He’s coming back!” A few seconds later the teens were in the lake again.

One of my life skills is helping people “Really Live”

“Really Living” may find one chasing bear and living on the edge. “Really living” to another may be dirty hands and knees in the garden. “Really living” may be in the work shop full of sawdust or metal flakes. “Really living” sometimes forms words, phrases and paragraphs. Sometimes “Really living” is creating special life experiences to communicate, influence and even mentor others.

I get T-shirts and mugs with catchy sayings like “I Fish Therefore I am”, “Fishing Is Life”, “Born to Fish Forced to Work” and a host of other phrases that depict my passions in life. I have, however discovered a passion that works well with my passions. Bringing groups of teens and adults far into the wilderness both in summer and winter forces real life gifts and problems to the surface. On the fear spectrum, I am not afraid of much. I would rather face a bear (risk) than tip a canoe in a storm (high risk) or rescue a drowning man in white water (high high risk). My wife says my cliff diving and winter camping days are over. Bringing Teen groups into the wilderness is possibly past, but, I still find myself living on or over the edge

Minus 38 below weather outside, above zero inside..Yea

The truth of the matter on fearless risk-taking is that my ball of twine in life will someday run out of string. I know that. We all die once and then face God while He asks us “why should I let you into my heaven?” The worst answer we could give is “Because I am a good person”. If you cling to your good, you also keep all your sin and are thus disqualified to be accepted by God. Risky risky risky!!! don’t go there.

Personally, I have lived most of my life as a follower of Jesus. God took all the risk to save me. Jesus, the one who lived, died and didn’t stay dead. The one who says “follow me”…“A thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:10 (Jesus)

Remember, those bears in life will take all your food. The guide takes all the risk

Gary

Picturesque Spring Easter Walk

Spring, with the excitement of warmer weather and a fresh new growth coming, is a season of revealing what once was. The squirrels are out finding their lost seeds and acorns. Animals that didn’t make it through the winter feed the crows, bald eagles, mice and bear awaking from hibernation.

I was looking for old antique machinery in the woods while being watched from above by this friendly red squirrel

Yesterdays woods walk reminded me of this. I have been looking for signs of the old doe (a much loved deer from an earlier blog). She has been missing for a month now. I may never find her as nature is quite efficient at the end game of all things including us. Dirt. Given time even the rocks will be dirt.

For those of you who like old machinery from generations ago, spring is the time to find stuff. I took some piece pictures (like…what is this?) for the imagination. Also piece meaning “what is not hidden by weeds and fallen trees“.

Everything is old and mostly dead in appearance. Grass, weeds and even the lake ice (which is not very safe to walk on in spots). I couldn’t help but notice numerous golden rod bulbs that housed the gall fly larva (a whole story by itself of intricate and complex design).

Soon all these magnificent weeds and grasses will be fertilizer for the new growth. The same cycle is happening in the lake. As the shore ice thaws and freezes the old weeds, cattails and clutter blown in to the lake is revealed. Soon the lake clutter will be sediment that is ever so gradually turning the lake into a pond. For now it’s still a great fishing lake as well as nesting grounds for all kinds of birds and animals. I ended my nature walk with a few more pictures before running out of battery. Enjoy.

cattail remnants above and below the textured ice

Melted snow pond in an opening mirrored a nearby tree

I enjoy spring but I cannot miss the symbolism within the realness of death and life. Death happens in the fall and winter for new life to begin in the spring. We die to live in so many ways. Being retirement age many aspirations have died to make way for others. Old habits have died for better ones. Free time died for a job. The old machinery died to make way for the new. You and I cannot escape our bodies going the way of the old doe. A seed dies to sprout life.

The final question of life is “how do we live?” really! Because the follow up question when our bodies are dirt and fertilizer for the next springs foliage is the same “How do we live?” How do we pull an Easter Jesus Miracle and not stay dead after we die? My own life long faith journey has found both gold and fools gold. Walking through the beautiful but dead goldenrod symbolizes nature in so many ways. Everything alive eventually dies. Only one didn’t stay dead.

So, after every winter I venture off the beaten paths, deep in thought, absorbing natures stories of life, beauty, perseverance, struggle and death. This year I wanted to share some private moments in my Picturesque Spring Easter Walk with you. To share my faith in a risen Jesus who says there’s more to life then dying and more to living than being alive.

Gary

*** Looking for more thought provoking content? Check out a sample of my other blog

Stunt Double

One of my dad’s sayings when I was young was “If you pull another stunt like that…” and some type of age-appropriate consequence was named. The bad part was he often didn’t mention which stunt he was talking about.

Throughout my life, my risk/reward analysis system of decision making has been lopsided toward the reward side. I now have a grandson like that; I sigh and cringe while watching. The little guy’s hands and feet are way ahead of his thought process. May he live to see his grandkids, bless his crazy heart.

One would think I have learned to play on the safe side of life. NOoooo. Being side lined with a neck injury for a couple weeks made me looking for a crack in the door to get outside and go fishing. Never mind that it was -40 F for 4 nights in a row with minimal warming in the day. The wind chill factors were mind numbing driving the ATV from the shop to my fishing spot on the lake. Never mind all my equipment was sitting outside in my fishing sled and froze solid. I went fishing

When my life is replayed for me on judgement day, I’ve asked the Lord if he couldn’t delete this part.

I dressed in my extreme cold weather gear. The ATV started. I hooked up the fishing sled. I made it to the fishing spot. All is well! It’s -25F with wind chill -50. I’m still warm and life is good on the lake. I drink in the frozen beauty through frosted eyelashes. I am 100% giddy . I should have gone home.

The ice auger started but the throttle was stuck on idle. I found the little lever that the throttle spring was supposed to control. I forced it on full throttle with a pliers. I started the auger again. At full throttle the auger didn’t want to drill a hole anywhere, instead it wanted to drill everywhere. It bounced around and tried to catch my heavy coveralls on my legs. I had visions of the auger getting away from me and going down the lake on its side taking out other fish houses. I finally found the other handle with the hand that pulled on the starter rope and managed to contain my wild auger by drilling a hole in the ice. As I am drilling the thought occurred to me that I couldn’t slow down the auger as it punched a hole in the lake. My thought came to fruition as the powerful auger on full throttle pulled the lake water up the hole and over my coveralls and boots. I started drilling another hole immediately while cradling the motor with one arm to free up a hand to hit the “off” button. Whew, close call. I am now only 75% giddy but ready to fish.

I set up the ice fishing shelter, pulled out my propane tank and tried to hook up my heater. The coupler connecter was frozen. I took out a match and heated the brass with a match (not recommended). A quarter turn and it froze again. I tried and tried but it became a fishing-without-heat situation. Something caught my eye as I was putting the heater away. The coupler O ring seal was broken; it would have leaked propane gas if it had connected. Upon lighting a match, the fish house could have exploded or burst into flames and burned down with me in inside. Whew…close one. I stowed my potential flame thrower in the sled. I am now 50% giddy.

I fished for an hour in the fish house with no heat and no fish. The wind was picking up, It was getting colder and my ice fishing hole froze as fast as I could kick it open. My fishing line froze as fast as I could hit the ice loose. I pack up to go home. The ATV grinds over but will not start. I try again and again. I pause and switch it on and off. It’s colder. Finally, as the battery is dying and it’s on its last juices it actually starts and I can drive home. I arrive home with face frozen, parts of me cold. The rest of me numb and no fish. I am now 0% giddy.

I parked the ATV and sled in the warm shop and walked on our icy drive to the house. I spotted my wife bringing our dog around the bend from a short walk and decided to hunch low and take a couple of skips sideways to get a reaction out of the dog (you know, growl at me or something and then wag his tail in pure admiration). I had my new extreme boots on, which are not made or recommended for anything but walking or sitting in extreme weather. They caught on each other and I fell awkwardly. I landed wrong and cracked a rib. I’m -25% on the giddy scale now. I wish it were not a familiar feeling. My wife knew where to look for the elastic band used for broken ribs.

So, here I sit looking out the window again drinking coffee and other hot beverages with the camera handy. I have lots of reading and thinking time in these much warmer drab days. I would laugh at my comedy of errors, but it really hurts to laugh.

No one gets a stunt double in living out this physical life. Sometimes I sure could use one. I live mostly fearless even in these troubled times. Why? God has his finger on my life’s buttons. I realized in all my recent mishaps that I actually have a stunt double for my appropriate consequence with God. All so I could know Him and have a relationship with Jesus Christ who died and then beat death; a stunt I know I cannot do. I have chosen to accept that stunt double in my place. 100% giddy over that!

Meanwhile there’s a moon watching and an owl poses nearby. I mention out loud I should go fishing now that its 20 degrees warmer…

Daughter: “You are too hurt to go fishing!” Me: “hold my coffee”

Gary

Nature Walkabout with Coffee

View from our front picture window. You can’t see the cold.

I take a sip of coffee and look out the front window.

I am at the bottom of the hot chocolate can and the coffee bean bag indicator is sitting on E. Nursing a painful neck injury has made me participate in the winter sport of drinking a hot beverage while watching the outside world through our windows. Even though nature’s winter has been -15 to -35 below zero Fahrenheit for the last week and the wind chills have reached -70 I want to participate, kind of. The smart people on TV say this will continue another few days. Then spring, yea!

For now I am relegated to peering out windows and thinking strange, or at least new thoughts. Being I have the camera handy I put my coffee down and capture the local fawn of the bunch of deer gathered by the back deck

I take a couple more sips of coffee while deer watching. I didn’t think the old doe would make it this long into winter. These temperatures must be tough on her

I drink some more coffee and ponder the trees. Sigh…I never tire of tree watching

Fascinating is the architecture of trees. How the limbs on a white oak tree can hang straight out for 50+ years is wild. Gravity and fatigue defying cellular structure.

I take another sip, put the cup down for a bird picture

I did not take down our outside Christmas tree. The chickadee’s think the string popcorn is their bird feeder. Maybe next year every ornament will be edible for the birds. There’s a business idea for someone…how about an edible outdoor Christmas tree. If you make it…someone will buy it! I would buy it, especially if it came with a big bag of coffee beans.

I watch the sky blush slowly, winter a little embarrassed? More like “There’s more to me than cold” Coffee is getting cold “You are a bad influence ole winter”

I take my last sip of lukewarm coffee. I’m thankful.

I take a look at the camera heart stirring. Lord willing I will mend to fish again!! I begin stirring the last of the hot coco. ARGH

Gary

Invasive Maneuvers

Yesterday I wanted to invade another world.

I meticulously planned it out (that means I finally found my go pro camera) and gathered my ice fishing stuff together for the invasion. I needed drilling equipment (ice auger) to penetrate the barrier to the underworld. I needed a stick(I cut a thick willow stick), line (very strong) a hook and bait to plunder said underworld (our frozen over lake). I needed an ATV and sled to safely drive onto the barrier (20 inches of ice will hold my truck).

Have a look. I invaded. I came, I saw, I plundered and ate the spoils!

I’m like that 4th fish. I like to think I ignore most things, especially media, out there

Aside from the temps dropping with a very cold breeze I looked into a world that none of us could survive for more than a couple of minutes without scuba gear and a very warm suit. We would then last long enough to run out of air unless we found an exit from this world and into ours again.

Have you ever had dreams like this? I haven’t (not true). My brother and I put a pickup (dads brand new 4×4) through the ice one time. I do not recommend this as it generates dreams, bad ones, for the rest of your life.

I can think of all kinds of ways we invade each others world and all kinds of ways the rest of the world tries. Advertisers, sales, every kind of media and now drones (I had to throw that one in). I can think of how God invaded our world and then became like us for a reason (Christmas and Easter, John 3:16, do you know about this?)

To the fish and underwater world I am an invasive marauder (in my defense that‘s natures way (eat or be eaten). I willingly admit I love fishing and fish fries.

To my fellow human beings; let’s learn how to love one another and just overlap in each others worlds gently with generosity and good will. Kindness on social media would be a great start. Me, I take all kinds of people fishing. We talk and break bread together over a meal of fresh fish FILLETED BONELESS

By the way, look closely at that fish. some of it is fresh fried fish eggs, the roe sac in a northern pike is extremely good (Ok, it’s not for everyone but there’s no bones).

Go ahead, name some basic invasion maneuvers where you are gifted in other worlds. Me, I’m on a learning curve with the go pro (and a few people), I wonder if they make underwater drones?

Gary

Stoked

I know, it’s like a bird taking a flying leap…

^{When 2 people love deeply, they stoke each other’s fires}.

Ahh…2nd honeymoon. By the time this picture was taken we were 9 years into adventuring life together. We had survived my cliff diving, several wilderness adventures, 3 children (almost losing one twice), having money, being downsized, broke, and already on my 4th career. Here we are, young and crazy about spending our lives together. Here we are, standing at 12,000 feet on Top of Beartooth Pass and still kind of wet from whitewater rafting the Gallatan river earlier. Our individual passions ran deep, but we were already leaning in and learning how to stoke each other’s fires.

A lifetime later we haven’t caught our breath yet as we are stoked. Our coal beds run deep. Man, I would love to make it many-many more years with this gal.

Psst…A hint on love advice from a couple with no bad years…(1) It really doesn’t work to stoke your own fire. (2) Read 1 Corinthians 13 4-7 on love. Seriously. read the love chapter.

Gary