It Feels Good to Be Back

Unless a situation is terribly dreadful, the sensation of returning is a very joyous one. For instance, think about not having done something you enjoy for a very long time, and what a wonder of reunion it is when you do it again. The early days of summer vacation have been an enjoyable series of "getting back" for me.

Most notably, taking a week off from my life in Colorado offered the chance to return to children who love me and want to spend time with me (a fact I love), a wife who is eager to express her love for me (for which I am very thankful, and gladly return the expression), and just everything that is familiar and feels like home. Celebrating "getting back" does not take away from Colorado. My conditioning regiment left me in a great position to really enjoy my time there. The first hike up (and it was very "up") left my calves and ankles somewhat strained at the end of the day (from so much toes pointing upward), but I attribute that to not having hills to train on. The big players, my back, shoulders and especially my hips never gave me a single problem all trip. There was some weariness in my legs, but I would feel alarmed if I didn't get tired from so much walking. The only injury I sustained was on the trip down when, 1 mile from the bridge at the train stop, I must have slammed down on a rock with my left heel as I was descending. It was been sore/bruised ever since. It probably doesn't help that in "getting back" I have resumed my summer habit of going barefoot or almost exclusively in flip flops.

And in terms of "getting back" I have made a return to basketball. While I have always loved the sport, I have the hardest time playing because I get frustrtated at myself. No matter how I play, it seems, I always feel like I should have done better. Some days it is more obvious that others. Like this evening, for instance. I haven't really played for a good long while (choosing volleyball instead), and when I did play it was with high school girls. But tonight I went to open gym at CHS and played with the guys. I was definitely the worst player on my team, but made up for my dismal offensive performance (I missed WAY too many lay ups) with hustle and defense. Even though I could have played better, I really need to remind myself that this has been my game all along--hustle and defense. So I'm getting back into basketball, I guess. I plan to go play tomorrow morning as well.

I'm also "getting back" to painting. There has been a significant hiatus there as well, but I have spent a couple hours painting some hands onto an acrylic background I worked on at the end of the school year. I really need to ramp up the time I'm spending, but with Heather working and taking classes, and with the boys wanting as much time as I can give them, I have a calm reassurance that I'm doing the right thing if I sacrifice studio time for family time. The painting aspect of my life will surely develop--just maybe not as fast as I once hoped. But I would gladly sacrifice my "meteoric rise to greatness" in the art world for time with my kids (before they get old enough to not want so much time with me anyway).

(And for anyone who is curious, I do anticipate "getting back" to school in the fall, and with Heather's wise counsel I have erred on the side of caution to ensure that I do so...and thus have removed the picture of myself and Nathan in Colorado. Better to avoid the questions altogether than to try to explain when they arise, I guess.)

Rocky Mountain Highs

I've tried for some time now to think of a way to recap the events of my trip to Colorado in a way that would adequately convey what it was like to be there. This seems to be impossible, so I'll simply add some of my favorite pictures from the trip and describe a bit of what went on.

First, we drove 14 hours or so from Keller to Durango, CO. We stayed the night and on the next morning we hopped on the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad heading north. This took us to edge of the wilderness and saved us hours of uphill hiking (plus it was a cool experience to ride a train; I don't think I had done it before).

The yellow line on the left of the map shows the route the train took and some landmarks from our trip nearby (the Needleton trail head, marked on the map, is where we began our hike to base camp; Elios and Sunlight peaks are marked, though Windom is not. Windom is right next to Sunlight).

This bridge stood at the crossing of the Animas River going from where the train let us off to the beginning of the Needleton Trail Head.

My traveling companions [L-R: Richard (Nathan's dad), Nathan (who I mentored throughout the school year), myself, and Bob (Richard's co-worker)] at the start of the trail. This photo was taken just before we spent 4 hours hiking 7.5 miles, during which we gained 3,200 feet in elevation. It was a trek!

After climbing uphill for nearly 3.5 hours, it was a glorious site to see the land level out a bit into the Chicago basin, the area that would be our base camp for the next 5 days-worth of excursions.

We chose to climb Windom peak, since it was the highest, yet with the least degree of difficulty. Here we are very near the top (and since I was the one with the camera I did most of the picture taking, so I got this cool shot of Richard with the mountain tops behind him).

This is some of the terrain coming down from Windom. If you look really closely at the middle of the ridge that runs through the center of the picture (separating the nearby hill from the far off pine covered hill behind it) you will see white dots which are actually mountain goats. These pesky creatures made regular encroachments upon our camp during our days there.

This is a view from within the basin, just several yards from my tent site, looking up at Mt. Windom (it is the peak in the very center of the picture). Though it looks smaller than the mountains on either side of it, is it father back on the ridge and is actually much taller.

On another day we climbed over Colombine Pass (the top of which is shown above).

Here I am, standing at the top of Columbine pass (looking back the way we hiked).

This is the crew, standing at the middle of the ridge on top of Columbine Pass.

Climbing down I saw this field which reminded me somewhat of the beginning of the "Sound of Music."

(photo has been removed)

As we traveled out of the basin, Nathan and I paused to join the "All Under Club" (jumping into the frigid mountain water--mostly melted snow run-off--until you are completely submerged). We are pictured here celebrating after a successful dip.

Although it has been brief, I hope you have enjoyed the highlights of the trip. Perhaps someday I will find the energy and time to post all 300 pictures.

The Shoe is On the Other Foot

Yours is better than mine is
I want to be like you
I want the hustle and bustle
I want nothing to do
Of course what we don't realize is
we're just trading shoe for shoe.

I wrote this poem several years ago after Heather and I had a discussion about the roles we were playing in life and how both of us wished we could switch places with the other.

Now I once again find myself filled with the foolish jealousy of Aesop's dog.

My dear brother Eric--of whom I am perpetually jealous--has now been to Rome. I've spent the last two years talking of Rome and its artistic treasures in my Art History class. I've longed for many years to see all the glorious sites of Europe. And it just seems (darn him!) that Eric keeps getting to see them...and I don't. Ireland, Rome, crazy eastern European forests, panoramic Crekoslovenian lakes. It's like a dagger in my soul.

Of course I say all this on the eve of my departure for my highly anticipated (and much discussed in recent days on this blog) trip to Colorado. I cannot wait to scale mountains. See elk and deer and bear (Heather says, "hopefully at a safe distance"). I am extremely fortunate to have been invited to go with a young man named Nathan, whom I have been discipling for the past year. His father is taking him on a senior trip of sorts, and Nathan kindly invited me along. All told four of us will be going, and I am honored to be in this select group. So not only will it be beautiful, it will be a poignant "farewell" as we send Nathan off to run cross-country and track at Texas A&M. So what do I have to compain about?

Therefore I will not "exchange substance for shadow"...but I still want to go to Europe!!

Song Writing Duo to Rival Lennon and McCartney, Loggins and Messina...even Hall and Oates

If you doubt, simply watch.

Live Free and Die

I hope New Hampshirites will forgive the modification of their state's motto, but this morning it occured to me that complete freedom is not all it's cracked up to be. This thought struck me at about mile 8 of a 10 mile hike I took this morning.

Now I've said this before, often using the analogy of trying to select an outfit for the day while standing in a closet full of hundreds of clothing options. The multiplicity of choice is, in such a case, more often crippling than freeing. This morning, however, I saw such a truth in a new light. If you'll recall my autumnal journey to New Hampshire it becomes apparent that living your life based on whims and romantic notions can have real pain associated with it. Having walked 15 miles a day for an entire weekend, bearing a (only) 25 lbs. pack took an extreme, and unexpected, physical toll on my body.

So armed with this painful memory I set about preparing for my upcoming trip with a bit more discipline. On Tuesday I leave for the Durango, CO vicinity. Wednesday will begin a 6-day, 5-night hiking loop through the Weminuche Wilderness, in which we will cross the Continental Divide and the Columbine Pass, in addition to setting up a base camp near three 14,000 ft. peaks, which we will attempt to summit. I am very excited for the trip, but having learned from my previous experience I know that exhuberence does not equal enjoyment. In an effort to fully enjoy the sights and experiences of Colorado, I prepared a series of preliminary hikes.

The first order of business was to understand and control the weight I would be dealing with--not my own, but that of the pack I would be carrying. My companions recommended I aim for about 60 lbs. Ultralight backpacking websites claimed it is possible to have a pack of a mere 20 lbs. While I knew I couldn't get that low (the gear required is very specific and very costly), I liked their thinking WAY better (since it wouldn't mean torturously lugging immense weight around for a week). I budgeted out my food, striving for the optimum calories/oz ratio (130 cal/oz is pretty good). I weighed everything and tried to cut out what I won't need (I was shocked to learn that the sleeping back I borrowed is 6 lbs! I'll gladly take another, 2-lbs. bag someone offered me). Even still, I found my pack will be around 40 lbs (with my food equalling as much as a Bible dictionary, Erickson's "Systematic Theology" and Strong's Exhaustive Concordance--nearly 13 lbs.). So I thought I had better prepare.

To condition my body I planned on a series of hikes. My first was barely three miles, and it was managed fairly easy. Several days later I tried a six mile hike, and there were signs of wear (feet hurting) and tear (back rubbed raw from the pack) and the trip, all told, took me 2.5 hrs. So I rested up for a bit, then tried 9 miles today. After a wrong turn in the dark the distance became 9.5 miles, but I was very pleased to find it was not all that difficult, and it took only 3 hours to finish.

So discipline is a good thing (as we all already knew). And as a result I am certain to live in a greater freedom, enjoy the real thing next week.

That's My Girl

If you have not listened to the news lately, the teaching situation in the United States is dire. Massive lay-offs, cut-backs, and other nasty hyphenations abound.

I thought I had escaped the negative trend, but alas, it is not true. Now don't get too worried for me. In my case all it means is that my desire to step down from coaching basketball has been thwarted. Despite arrangements being made with my principal and my head coach, it seems HR had the final say, and that say was, in effect, if I resigned both positions (which would be required to get out of coaching) there is no certainty that my principal (no matter how much he would desire to) would be able to re-hire me as just an art teacher. So, in favor of employment for next year, I have "elected" to coach once again. Of course, things could be worse.

Consider the plight of my dear wife. Desiring to enter the profession. Facing overwhelming odds stacked against her (thousands of teachers looking for positions, districts with hiring freezes and limited jobs, veterans vying for the same job that she, as yet an inexperienced and uncertified teacher, is interviewing for, etc.), she has boldly stepped into the fray. Perhaps I paint too bleak a picture, but it is only to express my overwhelming pride in my wife. In the past two days she has secured and participated in 3 interviews. Then in a single day she received 2 JOB OFFERS!! This is truly a testiment to her hard work, her personality and passion, and the obvious fact that she will be a fantastic teacher. Of course I had no doubts from the beginning. I knew she would show them all.

I am very proud of her, and I am grateful to God: to have a job, to have an amazing wife, and for her to have a job as well!

One HUGE thing I miss about summer

An Impact

I am (as in, right now, as I type) watching a movie called "No Impact Man." It is this interesting documentary about a guy in New York who decided to live an entire year without making a negative impact on the environment (no trash, no electricity, only local food, etc.). It's very interesting...the kind of stuff I really get into.

I wouldn't call myself an environmentalist, but I do agree with the perplexity and frustration that comes from seeing many small objects individually wrapped in plastic. I hate plastic bags from stores. I despise plastic waterbottles (that you buy in a plastic wrapper) that you throw away after a single use. Still, the things I agree with more are ideas like living in the flow of the earth and its seasons (using only daylight, and candles if need be); not buying anything new (because really, what I have is already do the job well enough); using self-powered transportation (especially since I've been doing practice hikes to get ready for my backpacking trip in Colorado).

I love the idea of living with certain limitations or living up to certain goals (I once read a book called, "The Year of Living Biblically" where a guy tries to be as literal as possible with the Torah--you know...weird but interesting). I participate annually in "No Shave November." And there are many other weekly, monthly or annual "challenges" I present to myself. Just little tests of the will. Because of this I have deep affection and appreciation for two saints: Patrick and Francis. Patrick imposed upon himself a lifestyle of assimilation into a new culture (and other like him--Bruce Olson and even my college roommate Nate). And Francis was one of the first people I know of that set his life up as a grand experiment--setting the limits and goals of chastity, poverty and obedience (and others have followed, like Rich Mullins, who tried to create a contemporary contextualization of those vows with fellow believers called "the kid brothers of st. frank").

What I like about "No Impact Man," and Rich Mullins and Francis of Assisi, is not simply the grand experiment aspect. I can identify with that. I have lived my life by frequent experiments. Some have come to heartbreaking ends. Some have been unbelievable triumphs. But the virtue of making life a series of experiments is that nothing is terminal; nothing is definite. "Flunk" out of vocational ministry? No big deal (and I'm not trying to be flippant...just trying to make a point), there are other ways to do ministry. Homeschool didn't work? At least our kids know we love them and want to invest in them and that their education is of primary importance to us. "Church" has died in my heart? Well now I'll really do what "church" is and be what "church" is and hopefully know others and Jesus better as a result. So experiments are good--they open you up to new ways of doing things. But better still are the results of the experiments. Francis said it was like being a little fish--you are too small for the cares and concerns of this world to trap you. "No Impact Man" can't go back to rapacious consumption, and he can no longer be wooed by the luxury of Starbucks. My friend Troy gave up buying new clothes--a contemporary view on the vow of poverty--because he didn't want to be fixated on getting and having. One of the Types of Soil Jesus mentions is those whose response to the gospel is choked out by worries, cares, concerns, and the worry after wealth. What self-imposed restrictions must we take to weed out (forgive the pun) that which would choke the life out of us?

Does taking a vow, living by a restriction, or striving toward a goal change the world? Does living "no impact" make an impact? Can living by conviction and freeing yourself as completley as possible to follow the Holy Spirit transform the world? To conclude, I will quote the great philosopher Garth Brooks, "It's not the world that I am changing. I do this so the world will know that it cannot change me."