Call Of The Lover

Trembling, I felt unable to move. An eight-hundred foot drop on either side kicked into gear my existing fear of height. Crouching down on the saddle that separated arduous switchbacks from five-thousand-foot peak, fear had me frozen. Having twisted up three-thousand feet of elevation gain I had two choices. Retreat back to safety or finish the climb?

How was it that I ended up there anyway? The answer to that question lies inside of another question; where does it go? Where do those roads in every Dr. Seuss book lead? What does that line on a map look like in the flesh? A confluence of events led me to Cub Scouts. Cub scouts led me farther outside the city. Nature led me into beauty and adventure.

There are premises hard wired into us that when pursued lead to peace, ignored they lead to our detriment. Anxious and fearful in my teens, I felt no fear in the outdoors. No fear of snakes, bugs, or bears---and a limited fear of heights. Scouting was the vehicle God used to move me from sea-level walks to glacier high climbs.

My first major purchase; a dark blue, external frame backpack. My second purchase, a pair of hiking boots. The pack leaned against my wall, being filled or emptied, unloaded or made ready.  Short trips every other weekend. Long trips every vacation break. From rolling coastal walks in the Santa Monicas, to craggy climbs in the Sierra. An Easter trek down Hermits’ trail in the Grand Canyon, summer solstice in the the Bob Marshall wilderness of Montana. That backpack fit like a glove, those boots broken-in, part of my body.

Like the gentle feel of a lover’s finger on your cheek, are the feelings stirred by the outdoors. The sense that you can fly when the backpack comes off after an eight-mile hike. Your shirt wet with sweat; spreading yourself out on a large shale boulder for warmth. Feeling the world spin as the sun goes down and that first star climbs into the sky. That first band of sunlight warming the camp after a frigid cold night. A place to sleep that smells of pine and not like cigarettes. Gurgle and crash of ice-cold water over rock as you fill your water bottle for the day. Your lover keeps calling you back.

When friends bid you, come with us to hike the Virgin river and trails of Zion, you say yes. Celebrating your final day in the park you go all in for a day hike to Angel’s Landing. A straight-forward path to the top brings you to the final half-mile portion, bordered by a chain which you can grab hold of to navigate the trail. Hopefully avoiding the steep drop offs into Zion and Refrigerator canyons. This is where paralysis set in. So my friends encouraged and prayed me through the saddle. To the top of the landing where I sat in the middle, far from the edge. Having made it to the top it was easier to make the trip back down the trail. A trip which I would make again some years later. Same trail, same quaking prayers, same positive result. I knew somehow that straddling that precipice was central to who I am. Nature would always be a place I found self. The hard wiring is the call of the lover.

Photo by Gregory Brainard on Unsplash

Not About The Farting Contests: An Eagle Scout Looks At Girls In Boy Scouts

Boy Scouts filled a hole in my life where manhood was empty.  In the formative years from 13 to 18 I craved maleness in all its permutations; bear hugs to farting contests; mental to physical challenges; moral to bodily growth.  Home provided little of this. Scouting provided most of it.

As a ‘males only’ institution Boy Scouts moved me from timid boy to early manhood.  Even the oath seems gender biased, ‘To keep myself physically strong...’ A co-ed environment would have shaped me differently.  This played out in a thousand ways. 

Guidance: Men don’t easily step into leading in volunteer organizations.  There is something unique in being led by men; and by the jostling together as men as a team.  Boys don’t see enough of this today.  Girls in Boy scouts will change that dynamic; women will take to those leadership roles and the men will step out. 

Camaraderie: You’d be a fool not to see it.  Men relate differently in all-male settings. In healthy settings we joke differently; usually in the midst of serious talk.  A twelve-mile hike in the Sierra or runs up the sand dunes at Port Hueneme elicit male responses.  “You carry that pack like my grandma,” evokes effort and laughter.

Leadership: We met on Thursdays.  Lines formed by rank and patrol. At times the older leadership would cajole the younger less experienced ones as drill sergeant to cadets. Leadership benefited by rank. On backpack trips camp set-up fell to those with lower rank.  Rank has rewards.

Servant Leadership: It’s the flip side. Merit badge skills are learned by men teaching men.  Old scouts scaffold younger scouts in skills---sewing, cooking, first aid, communication and management. Teaching comes by example. On a grueling backpack trip weak-kneed and novice couldn’t handle pack and trail.  The older leaders unloaded the packs from those tired shoulders and strapped them on top of theirs.  Rank has responsibility.   

When my wife goes on women’s retreats chocolates are placed on the pillows. Women sometimes sleep in the same bed. We don’t do that on men’s retreats. Camp cooking would have looked quite different with girls at the grill. Girls on the grill or girls on the trail change the dynamic of Boy Scouts.

(BTW I wasn’t a challenger in the farting contest. I was a judge.)

Timeline 5th Grade

Our life is like a good puzzle---if we examine it close enough we will see all the connections and how they fit together. Yesterday I began charting my life on a timeline where the crisis (A crucial or decisive point or situation; a turning point) are delineated. Thus my brain has been working on the problem overnight and this morning I had an epiphany. 5th grade was a key point in my life.


In Mr. Warner’s class I sat across from Sam and Gary. Both of them were in Boy Scouts. As I remember it they regaled me week after week with stories about hikes they took and adventures they had. It wasn’t long before I went home and asked my mom if I could join Boy Scouts with them. That journey would take me through high school and change the way I saw the world.

Mr. Lence pushed all of us toward leadership. This meant learning to speak publicly and to organize other scouts in activities and plan weekend camp-outs. I still remember him instructing us that when teaching or speaking one has to, “paint the cat black,” that is, to delineate the lessons clearly and visibly. Thus began my move up the ranks; leading meetings, planning camp-outs, making menus and motivating my fellow scouts to obey and chip-in as a team; a great experience for a shy, scared boy with low self-esteem. My character rounded there was one other place that Scouting got a hold of me. I went from crush and infatuation to a full on love for the outdoors.

Scouting took me around Catalina in canoe and down the Colorado by the same means; it took me through many canyons and up many peaks in the Sierra as well as into wilderness areas as far as Montana. I learned to carry a backpack and eat whatever was placed in front of me. Most of all I grew to enjoy and feel comfortable with myself in the outdoors.

Flash back to Mr. Warners’ class. Do you remember picking teams for sports in 5th grade? I was usually the last one picked as I was small with asthma and hardly the athletic type (though I made up for this lack of comfort at school on Boy Scout backpacking trips). One day I got talking to the other kid that nobody picked. His name was Keith. We grew to be close friends, then I grew close to his brother and his brothers’ circle of friends. Keith and I don’t talk much anymore but his brother Kevin and Kevins’ friend John were groomsmen in my wedding.

Forty years later and connections made in my 5th grade year still have a deep and rich affect on my life today. The friends I made then influence me today and rippled through my high school and college years into wider circles of friends and adventures emanating from those connections. In the same way those initial steps into Scouting were steps into manhood though it took me years to see it. Even as my love for the outdoors is richly embroidered into who I am so too those 5th grade experiences forever changed my life.