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Finding Faith ... in a late summer trail hike


Bass Lake ... an as yet to explore lake in the canoe.

I stood on the end of the older of the two docks at the cabin, just myself and my fishing pole, and a small container of worms.


Even though Shelley loves to fish, there was no way she was joining me on the dock that day.


I was dressed in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, socks and tennis shoes. While I wasn't cold, I can tell you I wasn't warm either. There was a pretty good sized wind blowing out of the southwest that was creating some three to four inch waves, and around me the orange and yellow leaves from the hardwood and birch trees surrounding the cabin were falling in swirls until they landed on the lake.


Mother Nature spoke. The message was there: Devlyn, give up the ghost. Summer is over.


Technically speaking, summer wouldn't be over for another two full days, I told myself. So, I stubbornly fished on. And after 45 minutes of casting, I had the very same worm on my hook as I did when I first cast out my line that morning. The ... same ... exact ... worm. ... I don't know where the fish were that day. Maybe they moved away from the shallower waters near shore because of the wind or the colder temps. Who knows. ... But they weren't biting; that is for certain.


A view of the cabin from across the lake.

The defeat started to creep into my bones, and begrudgingly I thought, "Well, maybe it's time to pack in the fishing gear for the year. ... Yep, summer's over." ... And let me tell you that is not an easy admission for me, as it means that cabin season is over. And we won't get back to Bemidji for the next seven months.


So, as I stood there and cast again, knowing full well it was fruitless, I decided I wasn't going out this year on a down note. Sure, I wasn't catching any fish, and I was likely putting away the rods for the last time this year, it didn't mean we couldn't salvage this early Sunday afternoon before we had to return to home and our average daily routines all winter.


I packed everything away, marched into the cabin where Shelley was relaxing and said, "I'm going for a hike over in the national forest. You want to come with?" ... And she said sure. ... I don't think she was ready to head home either. So we jumped in the car and drove over to the state forest on the north end of the lake, and cruised through beautiful fall foliage up to the point where the paths are blocked off. Beyond that point, the rest of the trail is walk-in in only, and I said, "Are you coming with me?" ... Yep, she was in.


Shelley and I take a rock home from every adventure.

First, there was a small pile of rocks to the side of the trail, and we scouted for our usual keepsakes to add to our rock gardens at home (another story I'll share some day). And then we started down the trail.


So, I will fully admit here that the next few minutes weren't my finest hour. ... Just 20 yards into the hike on this gorgeous wooded trail, with my wife walking a few paces in front of me, I spotted an 18-inch garter snake slithering it's way across the path in front of my wife. Oblivious to the snake, her head was look up, at the beautiful trees and other stuff.


Now, when I say that my wife is terrified of snakes, I cannot express in words how terrified. There are multiple stories of when she saw a snake and it left her senseless she is so petrified of them.


Knowing this, of course, in a split second my mind decided it was better to say something to warn her before she actually stepped on the snake, which was a real possibility. ... And so, I stammered out, "Oh, ahhh, er ... um ... hon ... ahh ... er ... um ..." ... At which point Shelley turned briefly to see me pointing down by her feet.


And when she look down, she did a little Scooby-Doo running in place jig and then bolted straight at me. ... Well, not knowing what to expect, I stood paralyzed watching her come barreling at me, thinking that at worst she was going to buzz past and hide behind me.


Nope. ... Shelley took a beeline straight to me and leapt onto me, hoping to escape the reach of the garter snake. ... And stunned, I ... dropped her. ... Yep. ... Square onto her back bumper, I flat out dropped her. ... Which of course led to even more terror that she was now on her backside on the ground where the snake could launch its attack. ... I wish I could describe to you the look of utter unbelief at her husband whom she looked to for safety. ... I knew I was in trouble!


The view from one of the point campsites along the trail.

Eventually, she did get up, brushed herself off and gave me a good butt chewing for having dropped her. And she wasn't going anywhere. ... Nah-uh. No sir ree. ... So with some quick thinking I grabbed a good-sized branch lying off the path, broke it down and gave it to her for a walking stick so that she could beat off any further snakes. Thankfully, that was enough to convince her to move on. ... Because we had an awesome walk through the woods the rest of the way; scouted some potential future camping sites for me and the boys; and found a new gem of a canoeing lake tucked way back at the end of this carry-in-only forest trail.


And by the end, we ended up with an awesome adventure, some new places to explore even further, and a golden memory that we'll take with us on the rest of our journey together.


That day I found faith in the beauty of the natural surroundings around us, in new outdoor adventures with my best friend and wife, and finally in the Holy Spirit's nudge when I was standing on that dock not to give up the ghost, but rather to get creative and make use of the other natural resources that were surrounding us.



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