Sunday, June 20, 2010

The Footpath - chapter three

It was cold, bitterly cold. The wind drove the cold through his wool coat and into his bones. He had heard stories of people who froze to death in the bitter temperatures of Upper Michigan. Was he the next victim? It didn’t seem so. People who died of hypothermia gradually fell asleep. He was waking up. How could the winter have arrived so soon? He craved warmth – somewhere – anywhere, but there was only the bone jarring frigidness of an uncontrolled Michigan winter.

David was born and raised in Manistique, Michigan, a larger city in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula situated on the north shore of Lake Michigan about 75 miles from the Mackinaw Bridge. Of course, during his early years there was no bridge. Anyone who wanted to visit the flatlanders would take a ferry across the chasm of water separating Upper and Lower Michigan. This worked fine for the months when the water flowed freely. But when the ice formed the two pieces of land were separated for a few months – almost half a year would be more truthful. There were those people who would journey onto the ice and walk across. Some of the u-pers owned dog teams or snow machines and would venture across the ice to visit family and friends on the other side. Some came back; many didn’t. David often wondered what happened to those who failed to return. Sometimes he would make up stories to explain their disappearance. Perhaps they were traveling on a sun bright day and suffered snow blindness. Perhaps they were a little too sure of themselves and unaware of the thinning ice pack until it was too late. Perhaps they simply found life below easier or more interesting than life in the U.P. He wondered did they find a good reason to stay or did they just never make it to the other side? No one knew for sure. The uncertainty was reason enough for David to stay where he was. He had no desire to tempt fate. At least not this early in his life.

No wonder he was cold. He was helping his dad tend a winter trapline. It was exhausting work. It seemed he had broken six or eight miles of trail. He probably hadn’t because dad was the one who normally broke trail. But if being tired and hungry was any indication he had broken trail for hours. It was tough going in the winter but made more so by the snowshoes he was wearing. His snowshoes were smaller than his dad’s. They were called bear paw’s although they were much larger than the pas of even the biggest black bear. His dad was wearing his beavertail snowshoes. They had been given this name because they were shaped like a beaver with a protruding tail of the wood frame extending behind the webbing. They were also called Michigan snowshoes presumably because they had been invented in Michigan.

They had made water sets for mink – but any muskrat and martin they trapped were welcome too. Of course the prices were not high and it seemed to David the work of skinning, scraping and stretching was worth far more than what was being paid for the fur. But the days were tough. His dad was never able to land a high paying job. He did what he could to keep food on the table and clothes on the backs of his wife and five children. Dad had learned something no one could learn except through deprivation. David could see it in his eyes. He knew one day he would have the courage to ask his dad why he still had a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. Now was not the right time.

He had learned to hunt, trap and fish for survival and enjoyment at an early age. In fact, if David wasn’t doing chores on the family farm he could be found in the woods or along one of his favorite streams. He was captivated by nature. Every day, if he was observant enough, he would uncover a new secret in nature’s abundant array of solutions. His world was fascinating.

The extreme cold of today left little time for exploration and discovery. Dad and he were checking traps as fast as possible removing any animals who had stepped into the trap and resetting the trap for another catch in the next couple of days. Because of the cold weather not many animals had ventured out. Their catch so far was sparse. It had been a nice walk except for the shivering.

“Hey, dad, you getting’ cold?”

“I’m a little cool but this isn’t too bad. The temp is still above zero. It’s quite a pleasant winter’s day, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you sure you’re only a little cool? I think my fingers are frostbit.”

“Just keep moving them. We’ll be home soon.”

Those words, “home soon” were music to his ears. He liked being outside but like dad always said when he wanted to quit what he was doing “too much of a good thing isn’t good.” He almost stopped in the middle of the trail to dream about home – being in the cabin once again enjoying the family. Of course being in the cabin would take him out of the cold too.

“C’mon son, stopped lollygagging. We have to keep moving if we are going to get home in time for supper.”

“Dad, why do you enjoy trapping?”

“Well, not sure enjoyment is a word I would use. It’s more of a necessity for us. I have learned necessities are easier if you discover something enjoyable in them. I enjoy being outside in the winter. Some folks want to stay in and when the time for spring planting comes they are almost too weak to work. I don’t ever want to be like that. I could be, I know. So trapping is an excuse for me to get outside and enjoy God’s frosting on His cake.”

“Frozen cake you mean! Everything is so lifeless and dead”

“Even in the cold life doesn’t stop. Oh, it may take a nap but life is still here. The birds still flit about. The rabbits still explore. The foxes still run after the rabbits. The squirrels still scamper trying to remember where they put that lost nut. The deer still walk about munching on cedar trees. And the coyotes and timber wolves still prowl. There’s a lot of life to be seen in the winter.”

“Well, I’m not feeling much life in my fingers. My fingertips have stopped hurting and have turned into icicles.”

“Remember what I told you earlier – keep movin’ ‘em. You need to help the blood get all the way to the fingertips. When you give up in cold weather you begin to die – sometimes one finger at a time.”

“I know but they hurt when I move ‘em.”

“They wouldn’t hurt if movin’ ‘em wasn’t helpin’.”

“Okay, I’ll keep ‘em movin’. Is there anything else you like about trappin’?”

“Well I’ve discovered a lot about the devil from my trapline.”

“You’re kiddin’, right?”

“No, I’m serious. Of course it will take some time for me to share what I’ve learned and I would rather do that after you have discovered some ways trappin’ and the devil are alilke. Besides we are not so far from home right now. Let’s get this mink out of the trap and check the last two fox sets before it gets any darker. The cabin is only a half mile from here. You know what’s there?”

“A warm fire and a hot meal?”

“Exactly!” Dad said, with a smile. His smile always brought a feeling of warmth and security to David.

He imagined the warmth of the fire and the great meal he would have. He hadn’t noticed how hungry he was. A sandwich and a cup of tea at noon had helped but that was six hours ago. His hunger crowded out his thoughts of cold.

Shortly, however, his thoughts of hunger would be replaced by panic. The stillness of the dark evening was suddenly interrupted with a flash of bright light and an ear piercing explosion…

Friday, June 18, 2010

The Footpath - chapter two

Arlene was lost in her own little world – a world of tranquility and sunshine. Reminiscing about her childhood as she drove she relived her carefree days on the farm. She had to get up at sunrise and would put in a full day’s work but the satisfaction of accomplishment at day’s end was immensely gratifying. In her mind she was much closer to God on the farm than she was in the suburbs. Was she closer to Him because she depended upon Him more or was it because she didn’t have as many responsibilities? Perhaps, she thought, responsibilities steal our dependence on God.

She remembered the first time she was allowed to ride on the tractor with her dad. She felt so grown up, even though she was only seven years old. It was a bumpy, jostling ride to the field. When they arrived her dad had stopped the tractor giving her time to take in the beauty of everything around them. She had never seen a field like this one. It seemed to stretch into the horizon.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” her dad had asked.

“Dad, it’s beautiful” she replied. “I love the flowers growing here.” “Did you plant them?”

“Nope they’re just flowers that come up wild.” “But take a good look ‘cause they won’t be here for long.”

“Why do you say that?”

“This field needs to be plowed. It means the flowers will be destroyed by the plow. We hafta git this field ready for plantin’. When you plant a new crop everythin’ in the field has to go. You ready?”

“I guess so.” She wasn’t really sure what was going to happen but she was with her dad and that seemed to make everything okay.

The plow was lowered and the tractor began groaning as it pulled its weight through stubborn soil. She thought about his words every time new furrows were plowed. “When you plant a new crop everythin’ in the field has to go.” Her dad was right. Everything did have to go. The plow had no mercy on the field. She glanced across the field. The plow had done its job. The wild flowers were gone. All that was left was freshly turned earth. She like the smell but felt sad for the flowers.

They were a church going family and her dad took opportunities like this to help his children become better acquainted with the Bible. Her dad kept one eye on the plow as he shared what he called ‘God things.”

“Did you know the Bible has a lot to say ‘bout farmin’?” he asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Everthin’ you see out here was started by God. Fact is, God loves farmin’ so much He started His work right on a farm. It’s a fact!”

Arlene’s eyes grew wide. She had never heard anything like this before. She felt an out of the ordinary excitement and curiosity. She waited with anticipation for the next revelation from her dad.

“The Bible tells us God made man from the dust of the ground then put the breath of life in him. While Adam watched, God planted a garden with trees of ev’ry kind an’ put a river right through it’s middle and then put Adam there – tol’ him to take care of th’ land.”

She could hear the pleasure increasing in his voice. Dad loved talking about the Bible with his kids.

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the tractor suddenly lurched as the plow jumped out of the ground. Arlene, who had been sitting on the rear fender was thrown from the tractor and slammed to the ground. Everything went black…

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

The Footpath - chapter one

“Finally here!” That was the thought in their minds when they awakened. They hoped the weatherman’s prediction was accurate – sunny and warm with a 10% chance of precipitation. What a beautiful day to begin their journey.

They had packed the night before in order to get an early start in the morning. The alarm had gone off at precisely 5:30 a.m. Breakfast was hurried because of the mounting excitement. They were out the door by 6:30 a.m. traveling by car to their drop off point. This was going to be the trip of a lifetime.

“They” were a father and two sons. The father, David, was an experienced hiker. Of the two sons, Josh was the oldest and Edward the youngest. This would be their first long hike together and they looked forward to the adventure.

David’s wife, Arlene, had grudgingly agreed to drop her “three boys” off. She was not an early riser and couldn’t understand their excitement. “It must be one of those weird male things,” she thought to herself. She wondered why they could be so eager to get up at 5:30 a.m. to take a long walk and be so unenthusiastic when it came to cleaning the basement.

The car left the highway and began its meandering journey down a country road. The speed of the car now greatly reduced only caused the anxiety of the three males to build. They began to complain about her lack of speed when suddenly a speeding pickup truck rounded a blind corner nearly colliding with their vehicle. Arlene was quite shaken by the near collision and had to stop the car and take a couple of minutes to put herself back together. “I never have liked these dirt roads,” she spouted. “You can’t see far enough ahead to avoid what’s hurtling toward you.”

The speed of their travel slowed significantly but no one complained. That was one near miss which was too close for comfort. Besides the slow speed gave David and his two sons a chance to begin noticing some of the peculiar beauty of the open fields and wooded acreage they would soon call home. Their excitement had dropped to a manageable level which seemed to bring peace to Arlene.

Arlene had not liked the idea of this trip from the beginning. What she had experienced early in her life had continued to haunt her to this very day. Dave didn’t bring it up very often because it always seemed to upset her. Josh and Edward didn’t even know about it. When David had first talked with her about this trip she was absolute in her stance – David would never take her sons on this kind of trip. David’s argument had been this kind of trip would give Josh and Edward a life experience which would help them to more fully understand and appreciate what Jesus had said so many years ago. “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14) The words “narrow” and “small” had a disturbing impact in her life. She was sure these words disturbed other people too. Would she ever be free of the feelings which wouldn’t die?

Her thoughts retraced those terrible days she had experienced years ago. Why couldn’t she let them go? What gave them so much power over her? She was so overcome by these thoughts she never heard David’s warning…