2009 Nazarene Men's Retreat
A personal recollection
Who hasn't enjoyed a good fishing or hunting story; you know the huge fish that got away or broke your line; or the biggest buck you've ever seen that was immune to your buckshot or arrow. Well this morning I've got some tales from the campsite. They originate from true experiences, its just that with time and memory, like all of us, they've matured. I will try to tell them in chronological order so long as that portion of my memory serves me.
We arrived at Indian Valley and began setting up our tents and organizing our provisions. Dale pulled his fifth-wheeler into his small camping space like a pro on the very first attempt; those of us watching interpreted this as a very good sign. We had no idea what the sign was linked with, just that it was a harbinger of good things to follow. Dave arrived soon after, and dropped off his canoe then proceeded to the big city north for an extended family visit. It was getting later, or at least quite dark and we began to worry that maybe he had gotten lost on the way back, which is somewhat akin to the chances of your compass magnet just falling out, later on three canoe trips Dave would prove his directional skills.
Dropping back in time a few hours [there goes my chronological intentions] when it was lighter out and some of us were preparing our fishing poles Rob regaled us with how far he could cast. We gave him a pretty hard time and he recanted on some of the distance, but in the days ahead Rob would prove his casting somewhat unique. Evidently sometime during Rob's past fishing experiences he came to believe that catching fish was a whole lot easier if you cast your line into the water resting it about midpoint over a tree branch ... later when he illustrated this for us we thought at first it was an accident, but Rob went on to prove numerous times it really was a style he preferred and was proficient at. Kevin tried it once, but got discouraged and went back to his old tried/tested way of casting. I tried as best I could to place my line on the branch of a tree on the bank across the river but couldn't quite reach it, the distance which was a piece of cake for Rob. However, I must add, with some pride, Kevin and I were able to catch 2 fish apiece, although Dick contends their lack of length didn't qualify them as fish. Kevin caught one of his after most of us had gone to sleep, so that remains an 'unverified' catch.
A fisherman in the camping lot next to ours caught a really good size carp,[later he also caught a turtle too] and this inspired Kevin to fish the way our new friend was. It required a simple cast, compared to Rob highly developed technique, and rested the bait on the river bottom. Now Kevin was using a corn kernel and piece of hot dog for bait [which to a carp is like steak]. He made the miscalculation of resting his pole on a thin branch [not in the tree], then sitting in a camp chair to watch it. Zap, without warning, Kevin's pole left the branch, jumped the bank and sunk into the water. Fortunately for Kevin, his pole got stuck in the mucky, tree root bottom and this fish couldn't drag it further. So waist-deep in the river Kevin finally fished the pole out, meanwhile the huge fish took the bait and went laughing on its way. That had to be one soggy lunch - water soaked hot dog and kernel of corn - what was that fishing thinking?
Saturday morning Dave announced he was going to take a nine mile canoe trip and asked if anyone would like to go with him. Rob immediately volunteered. I waited a while and no one else wanted to go, so I thought how bad could it get with these two seasoned outdoorsmen? Dave's excellent sense of direction and knowledge of the river and Rob's scouting experience and having canoed this river before - what could go wrong? I learned a very valuable lesson, 'never ask a question you don't truly want to know the answer to.' Randy was a gracious host and let us put the canoe in his pick-up and then he took us to the starting point on our trip. My first indication that I might want to turn back came when I attempted to get into the canoe. [Later Rob and Dave would both confess they suppressed their anticipations of what I was going to do] What we didn't know was that Randy, after watching all this, returned to the camp and was willing to bet anyone $50 we'd never make it 200 yards without tipping over ... I'm glad no one bet him because I'm sure he would have lost, I know we were a little over 200 yards before I swamped us.
Now Dave and Rob are two of the most gracious seafarers you've ever known. They kept reassuring me everyone who canoes capsizes from time to time, but knowing them its hard to visualize either ever being guilty of swamping a canoe. And so there I sat, on the middle seat, six inches higher than anyone else, which should have given me a better view of the river. As I was trying to get situated Dave said the biggest temptation would be to overcompensate when you felt drawn to one side, my issue was more about being stable than balance, I figure balance comes from being grounded. But Dave was right, and I succumbed to temptation. We came to a bend in the river and there before us were the rapids, [to be accurate they were ripples] but when you're trying not to tip a canoe they look like rapids and there at that hallowed spot we were all baptized. Fortunately for me, Dave and Rob never let loose of their humor as I lost possession of my glasses. Also I had forgotten and left my cell phone in my pocket ... it was on vibrate and for the rest of the canoe trip its constant vibration reminded me of my wilderness sin.
Gettng back into the canoe I now sat on the bottom, resting my back on the seat and we become much more stable [and yes, Dave, more balanced]. Still I felt like an over-sized, water-logged barge of cargo weighing down Dave and Rob. Rob, ever-sensitive to my demoralized ego, shortly proclaims, with excitement, there's an eagle, and Dave remarks about how pretty it is and what a unique experience to see one. Without my glasses I'm having trouble seeing the riverbanks let alone our national symbol majestically displaying itself. Further up the river Rob comments on the business wisdom of landowners to place 'for sale' signs on the river banks so
water travelers could see them. Incidentally, Dave was to make two more river trips and both times comes back dry - no spills.
On a more spiritual note we learned that our men's group has a very talented group of Wheezers! There are a few especially talented in this art that could probably, with practice, be able to offer some specials in AM worship. Kevin on lead, Brian harmonizing with teno and/or alto [his tenor is somewhat off-key though] Dale on bass and Dave on either alto or baritone. All of these men having willingly admitted they were wheezers, and probably easily would qualify for the quartet; Dave, being a bit more shy, still is a little less confident. Dave himself was quite amazed to find out that added to his many talents he can wheeze. What brought this gift to his attention is a story in itself. Arriving at camp late Friday night, as I stated earlier, he decided not to pitch his tent. Rob had plenty of space of in his son's tent, but Dave didn't want to disturb Rob's own attempts to practice and possibly qualify for the quartet, so he slept in his van. Saturday night though, after getting to know Rob a little better that day, and on the canoeing trip, and confident that he wouldn't disrupt Rob's musical quest, Dave decided to sleep in his tent. I personally think his prior night in the van was the determining factor. Dave retired earlier than Rob and was sound sleep by the time Rob later approached the tent. Robs says that as he approached he heard strange sounds coming from his tent. He was pretty sure Dave had said he was spending the night in the tent, but also recalled that Dave said he didn't know how to wheeze ... now this is a mystery, who is in the tent? Upon tentatively opening the flap, Rob discovered Dave was wheezing, and it was a higher quality [or volume, I'm not really sure at this point] than Rob had ever achieved .. this could lessen Rob's chances to make the quartet. The look on Dave's face the next morning when Rob shared with us Dave's new gift was one of those 'hallmark' moments. Not wanting to appear prideful Dave insisted Rob must have heard someone else.
Perhaps he had heard Brian rehearsing, for about 2AM Sunday in the midst of Brian's practicing , Randy was so emotionally moved he couldn't stay in the tent with Brian and me, and slept the rest of the early morning hours in his pickup. Finally Dave admitted that years earlier his wife had suggested he had this wheezing talent. The news of this new gift was so over-whelmng [and still is] that Dave believes a second opinion might prove both his wife and Rob, [wait a minute, that is two opinions] are somewhat delusional.
There are probably more stories to be shared but right now I can't recall them; perhaps one of the others on that retreat will come forward and share with us. Lest you think the retreat was only about great food, fun experiences and an around good time, we had some spiritual moments that enriched our souls. I shared some inspirational thoughts on the relationship of Jonathon and David, and we sang and shared. The sharing was so rich, I'm going to leave in the souls of the men around that campsite. [I tried to share with the congregation Sunday pm, but failed; though I want to personally thank Bryan C. who put together a video presentation of our retreat that our congregation enjoyed]There is something sacred, special and intimate that would be diminished if I attempted to share those remarks. Something like an event that you have experienced, something about 'being there in person' that gets lost in translation when later trying to describe it.
I believe Carl summed it up when he said that there is something about the time men spend together in fellowship, sharing experiences and life stories that draws us closer together. WOW, how right he is.
A personal recollection
Who hasn't enjoyed a good fishing or hunting story; you know the huge fish that got away or broke your line; or the biggest buck you've ever seen that was immune to your buckshot or arrow. Well this morning I've got some tales from the campsite. They originate from true experiences, its just that with time and memory, like all of us, they've matured. I will try to tell them in chronological order so long as that portion of my memory serves me.
We arrived at Indian Valley and began setting up our tents and organizing our provisions. Dale pulled his fifth-wheeler into his small camping space like a pro on the very first attempt; those of us watching interpreted this as a very good sign. We had no idea what the sign was linked with, just that it was a harbinger of good things to follow. Dave arrived soon after, and dropped off his canoe then proceeded to the big city north for an extended family visit. It was getting later, or at least quite dark and we began to worry that maybe he had gotten lost on the way back, which is somewhat akin to the chances of your compass magnet just falling out, later on three canoe trips Dave would prove his directional skills.
Dropping back in time a few hours [there goes my chronological intentions] when it was lighter out and some of us were preparing our fishing poles Rob regaled us with how far he could cast. We gave him a pretty hard time and he recanted on some of the distance, but in the days ahead Rob would prove his casting somewhat unique. Evidently sometime during Rob's past fishing experiences he came to believe that catching fish was a whole lot easier if you cast your line into the water resting it about midpoint over a tree branch ... later when he illustrated this for us we thought at first it was an accident, but Rob went on to prove numerous times it really was a style he preferred and was proficient at. Kevin tried it once, but got discouraged and went back to his old tried/tested way of casting. I tried as best I could to place my line on the branch of a tree on the bank across the river but couldn't quite reach it, the distance which was a piece of cake for Rob. However, I must add, with some pride, Kevin and I were able to catch 2 fish apiece, although Dick contends their lack of length didn't qualify them as fish. Kevin caught one of his after most of us had gone to sleep, so that remains an 'unverified' catch.
A fisherman in the camping lot next to ours caught a really good size carp,[later he also caught a turtle too] and this inspired Kevin to fish the way our new friend was. It required a simple cast, compared to Rob highly developed technique, and rested the bait on the river bottom. Now Kevin was using a corn kernel and piece of hot dog for bait [which to a carp is like steak]. He made the miscalculation of resting his pole on a thin branch [not in the tree], then sitting in a camp chair to watch it. Zap, without warning, Kevin's pole left the branch, jumped the bank and sunk into the water. Fortunately for Kevin, his pole got stuck in the mucky, tree root bottom and this fish couldn't drag it further. So waist-deep in the river Kevin finally fished the pole out, meanwhile the huge fish took the bait and went laughing on its way. That had to be one soggy lunch - water soaked hot dog and kernel of corn - what was that fishing thinking?
Saturday morning Dave announced he was going to take a nine mile canoe trip and asked if anyone would like to go with him. Rob immediately volunteered. I waited a while and no one else wanted to go, so I thought how bad could it get with these two seasoned outdoorsmen? Dave's excellent sense of direction and knowledge of the river and Rob's scouting experience and having canoed this river before - what could go wrong? I learned a very valuable lesson, 'never ask a question you don't truly want to know the answer to.' Randy was a gracious host and let us put the canoe in his pick-up and then he took us to the starting point on our trip. My first indication that I might want to turn back came when I attempted to get into the canoe. [Later Rob and Dave would both confess they suppressed their anticipations of what I was going to do] What we didn't know was that Randy, after watching all this, returned to the camp and was willing to bet anyone $50 we'd never make it 200 yards without tipping over ... I'm glad no one bet him because I'm sure he would have lost, I know we were a little over 200 yards before I swamped us.
Now Dave and Rob are two of the most gracious seafarers you've ever known. They kept reassuring me everyone who canoes capsizes from time to time, but knowing them its hard to visualize either ever being guilty of swamping a canoe. And so there I sat, on the middle seat, six inches higher than anyone else, which should have given me a better view of the river. As I was trying to get situated Dave said the biggest temptation would be to overcompensate when you felt drawn to one side, my issue was more about being stable than balance, I figure balance comes from being grounded. But Dave was right, and I succumbed to temptation. We came to a bend in the river and there before us were the rapids, [to be accurate they were ripples] but when you're trying not to tip a canoe they look like rapids and there at that hallowed spot we were all baptized. Fortunately for me, Dave and Rob never let loose of their humor as I lost possession of my glasses. Also I had forgotten and left my cell phone in my pocket ... it was on vibrate and for the rest of the canoe trip its constant vibration reminded me of my wilderness sin.
Gettng back into the canoe I now sat on the bottom, resting my back on the seat and we become much more stable [and yes, Dave, more balanced]. Still I felt like an over-sized, water-logged barge of cargo weighing down Dave and Rob. Rob, ever-sensitive to my demoralized ego, shortly proclaims, with excitement, there's an eagle, and Dave remarks about how pretty it is and what a unique experience to see one. Without my glasses I'm having trouble seeing the riverbanks let alone our national symbol majestically displaying itself. Further up the river Rob comments on the business wisdom of landowners to place 'for sale' signs on the river banks so
water travelers could see them. Incidentally, Dave was to make two more river trips and both times comes back dry - no spills.
On a more spiritual note we learned that our men's group has a very talented group of Wheezers! There are a few especially talented in this art that could probably, with practice, be able to offer some specials in AM worship. Kevin on lead, Brian harmonizing with teno and/or alto [his tenor is somewhat off-key though] Dale on bass and Dave on either alto or baritone. All of these men having willingly admitted they were wheezers, and probably easily would qualify for the quartet; Dave, being a bit more shy, still is a little less confident. Dave himself was quite amazed to find out that added to his many talents he can wheeze. What brought this gift to his attention is a story in itself. Arriving at camp late Friday night, as I stated earlier, he decided not to pitch his tent. Rob had plenty of space of in his son's tent, but Dave didn't want to disturb Rob's own attempts to practice and possibly qualify for the quartet, so he slept in his van. Saturday night though, after getting to know Rob a little better that day, and on the canoeing trip, and confident that he wouldn't disrupt Rob's musical quest, Dave decided to sleep in his tent. I personally think his prior night in the van was the determining factor. Dave retired earlier than Rob and was sound sleep by the time Rob later approached the tent. Robs says that as he approached he heard strange sounds coming from his tent. He was pretty sure Dave had said he was spending the night in the tent, but also recalled that Dave said he didn't know how to wheeze ... now this is a mystery, who is in the tent? Upon tentatively opening the flap, Rob discovered Dave was wheezing, and it was a higher quality [or volume, I'm not really sure at this point] than Rob had ever achieved .. this could lessen Rob's chances to make the quartet. The look on Dave's face the next morning when Rob shared with us Dave's new gift was one of those 'hallmark' moments. Not wanting to appear prideful Dave insisted Rob must have heard someone else.
Perhaps he had heard Brian rehearsing, for about 2AM Sunday in the midst of Brian's practicing , Randy was so emotionally moved he couldn't stay in the tent with Brian and me, and slept the rest of the early morning hours in his pickup. Finally Dave admitted that years earlier his wife had suggested he had this wheezing talent. The news of this new gift was so over-whelmng [and still is] that Dave believes a second opinion might prove both his wife and Rob, [wait a minute, that is two opinions] are somewhat delusional.
There are probably more stories to be shared but right now I can't recall them; perhaps one of the others on that retreat will come forward and share with us. Lest you think the retreat was only about great food, fun experiences and an around good time, we had some spiritual moments that enriched our souls. I shared some inspirational thoughts on the relationship of Jonathon and David, and we sang and shared. The sharing was so rich, I'm going to leave in the souls of the men around that campsite. [I tried to share with the congregation Sunday pm, but failed; though I want to personally thank Bryan C. who put together a video presentation of our retreat that our congregation enjoyed]There is something sacred, special and intimate that would be diminished if I attempted to share those remarks. Something like an event that you have experienced, something about 'being there in person' that gets lost in translation when later trying to describe it.
I believe Carl summed it up when he said that there is something about the time men spend together in fellowship, sharing experiences and life stories that draws us closer together. WOW, how right he is.
Sounds like a great trip. I need a relaxing weekend away from things, I think.
ReplyDeleteCheers.
Sherm
ReplyDeleteI have found in high stress careers [those that are always dealing with people] no one is going to force you to take relaxing time away; on the other hand everyone will judge you for getting burned out .......... can't win sometimes
Something happened to my smart-aleck comment here--I'd thanked you for reminding me not to invite you to canoe with me! By the way, I almost went in last night on Long Lake, when the roll of distant thunder began to be heard and I had my dog in the canoe--it cut into my fishing time as I paddled hard back to my truck.
ReplyDeleteSage
ReplyDeleteYou actually fish while in the canoe? Wow, you must have a tremendous sense of balance? ....
guess I'll never know!! ha.