During the holiday season, I often reflect upon the past year (and some of those significant experiences throughout my life). I suspect that many of you are like me, you are reminded of your blessings during the holiday season. But what about those special memories that arise from the negative experiences? We remember those times too and we relive the experiences by retelling and reliving them in our mind and conversations with family and friends.
Two popular quotes come to mind as I write this; “The best laid plans, are laid to waste…” – Robert Burns, and “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do, than by the things you did.” – Samuel Clemens.
Some of those close calls, near misses and almost disasters hold a special place in our memory. In some cases, to remind us of our humanly errors, in other situations it helps better appreciate the easy times. I hope that you too can share your misadventures with a slice of humility and a chuckle. After all, you probably don’t want to hear about the time in my life when everything went exactly as planned.
Every winter my dad always threw a shovel in the bed of the pickup, and he did well to teach me to always do the same. I knew that rule for many years before I ever learned to drive.
One time in high school, I was out cruising around town in an old two-wheel drive pickup with my sister and her boyfriend (now husband) as a big blizzard was engulfing our town. There was a little too much goofing around and we found ourselves sliding into a four-foot deep snowdrift. No parents knew where we were (long before the days of cell phones) and wind driven snow was coming down as thick as it could.
We were typical ill-prepared kids and had no winter gloves, hats or coats - and no blasted SHOVEL to dig ourselves out! We worked in shifts digging out of the snow with our feet and hands, as long as we could tolerate the cold for a full two hours. Finally, we got free and went home no worse for wear, except for some minor frostbite to my ears. You can bet your last penny that I don’t forget to keep a shovel and a winter hat and gloves in my vehicle now.
Did you ever go out hunting and forget the bullets? Maybe you forgot your tags, or your orange?
I once went hunting with my best friend Rory. We were always in tip-top shape (especially on the heels of football conditioning) and could easily walk back into some fairly inhospitable places of the Missouri River Breaks. We were always passing up very nice bucks, instead hoping to find some larger trophy-sized deer.
One time we were quite successful. Rory downed a substantial buck and immediately after doing so it occurred to both of us that we were going to have a miserable hike getting this animal back to the pickup. As if that weren’t enough, when we get to the downed deer, we realized that we both forgot to pack a gutting knife. Fortunately for both of us, we had an “old-timer” folding pocket knife; that’s right - with a two-inch blade.
If you have ever wondered if its possible to field dress a large mule deer with a tiny pocket knife, I can assure you that it is possible. We were both covered in deer blood, but I have never forgotten to pack a proper field knife for every subsequent hunting trip.
One time, when I was 16, I was working with a crew on a cold, rainy fall day pulling seasonal tumbleweeds off of our barbed-wire fence and burning them. As the work (and daylight) were drawing to an end, I was working faster and faster to finish the job. I jogged ahead of the crew to the next fence corner where there was another huge pile of weeds.
As I was shoulder deep into that pile of tumbleweeds, I suddenly smelled the unmistakable scent of skunk spray. I quickly jumped back and peered into the mass of weeds and saw a skunk with its tail up and buried into the tangled mass where I stood just moments before. It was a direct hit on me, at point blank range. For the better part of a week, I avoided being around people; I had to throw away my good work boots, pants, jacket and purchase all new. Sometimes it’s better just to cut your losses and start fresh. No pun intended.
Some of you readers might recall another one of my “less than glamorous” moments Jan. 1, 2016. I was leading a group hike that is specific to being active in the winter while still paying mind to safety and survival. Half way through the program, while on the ice of Placid Lake, crack & kerplunk! I broke through a thin section of ice in front of the entire group. I immediately go from talking about safety and survival to demonstrating it firsthand. In the end, I was able to escape the dangerous situation with the help of those who were with me.
Good judgment comes from experience. Experience, well that comes from bad judgment.
As you are pausing this Christmas season to reflect upon the things you are thankful for, I hope you recall your less than glamorous moments. Those times that seem miserable at the moment but in hindsight give you that once-in-a-lifetime experience, make you a better person for those experiences.
Don’t avoid the outdoors for fear that something could go wrong. Frankly, I don’t want to hear your story about the time everything went exactly as planned. But if you want to tell me about the time you forgot about how much daylight was left in the backcountry and you had to walk all those miles out in the dark, or the time it started to rain and then turned to snow…I am all ears. Hopefully you will take to our outdoors this season, after all we all need fresh stories to build on the old.
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