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Archive for October, 2010

Bright Fall Colors, September 2010

Bright Fall Colors, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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You know you work for the government when:

The process becomes more important than the product.

You don’t see anything wrong with attending a meeting on a subject you know nothing about.

You feel you contributed to the meeting just by being there.

You stop raising issues/problems because you know you will be the one answering them.

You fly first class across the country to attend a conference with 100+ people to discuss the fact that the project does not have enough money.

You work for an acronym, on an acronym, and your job title is an acronym.

You understand the rationalization of an acronym composed of acronyms.

You know that the location of a meeting is directly related to its importance.
(1) A meeting at Fort Hood requires a subordinate or a contractor
(2) The same meeting at Lake Tahoe requires your personal attention

You’ve sat at the same desk for 3 years, done the same thing for 3 years, but have had 3 different business cards.

[author unknown]

Need Cash for Alcohol Research

Need Cash for Alcohol Research

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Evening At Pike Place Market, Seattle, Washington, July 2010

Evening At Pike Place Market Overlooking Alki Point and a Seattle Ferry, Seattle, Washington, July 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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God Surprises 5

If we fail to acknowledge God at work in the ‘big events’ of our life, what is the likelihood that we will ever recognize him at work in the small, ordinary, everyday events of our life? Yes, it is a ‘step of faith’ – perhaps even a leap – for an individual to look at their life this way.  We are more prone to give Lady Luck, good fortune, or coincidence the credit than God.

It is perhaps the height of human hubris to refuse to give our Creator credit for anything good that happens in our life; let alone what good happens on earth in general. However, let something fall apart, a tragedy strike, catastrophe fall upon us or another part of our world and suddenly we want to point our finger heavenward and blame the Divine.  We want an explanation from God for our hurt and sorrow, even if we do it in doubt, “If there was a god, he/she would have prevented this!  That’s what I would have done if all the power of the universe were in my hands.

The Bible teaches us that, out of his sovereign will to run his creation or allow it to run according to the laws of creation he established, God permits his blessings to come to both the just and unjust of the world. It confounds those who think that they belong to a special religious club, which gives them privileges to God’s blessings and protections against bad things happening to them, that Jesus would teach us, “He makes His sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust” (Matthew 5:45, MKJV).  It does not fit our theology, so we avoid it.

However, Job was a man in the Old Testament who knew both the blessings and the trials that come in this life. He was a man who looked like he had everything in life.  He was the model of success.  A day came, however, when everything he had and more was ripped from his life: financial security, family, peace, and good health.  Standing on the brink of his trust in God staring into the abyss of doubt and despair, his wife encouraged him to abandon all hope and leap by offering him the advice, “Curse God and die” (Job 2:9).

At that moment, Job decided to take a step back from that abyss and offers this answer to his wife’s solution,Stop talking like a person who does not know God!  We accept the good things that God allows to come to us.  Shouldn’t we also accept the bad things that he allows to come to us?” (Job 2:10, my own paraphrase).  This seems to be the reverse side of the faith equation Jesus spoke of in the Gospel of Matthew (see above).  Instead of the sun and the rain, Job is thinking in terms of killing frosts and monsoons.  Everything that comes to us comes to us through what God allows.

Santa Claus with a little girl

Image via Wikipedia

This whole idea messes with our desire to have a god who is a benevolent benefactor handing out goodies to all his good children and handing out punishment to all his bad ones. However, this approach makes the Creator sound more like Santa Claus than a Divine Sovereign of the universe.  It also makes him petty and capricious.  In the end, we are left always trying to figure out how to keep God happy – be on his “nice list” – and on our side, lest we offend him somehow and get put on his “naughty list.”  After all, there are worse things than ‘lumps of coal’ in store for us if we do not stay on his good side, right?

The problem with this is that it makes the God of the universe as small as we are in our thinking and behavior.  Job seemed to understand this in the midst of his troubles. Jesus pointed us to a larger more complicated picture of God.  In his own day, many people who assumed they should have been on God’s ‘nice list’ were not and those who thought they were on God’s ‘naughty list’ were actually favored and shown mercy.  This really messed with the heads of the religious people of Jesus’ day and still messes with them today.  It is so unlike us and how we would do things.  And maybe that is just the point.

The key may not be what we focus on and weigh: whether events are good or bad for us.  It may be how we view them in light of our trust in God to work out all things for his purposes and his glory, not ours. This makes God bigger than us and our personal agendas or happiness.  God has a bigger picture and bigger story to tell.  We can allow our lives to be woven into that story or refuse.  Either way, it is all about the story of God’s glory revealed in all of creation.  Our redemption is a part of that story.  If we refuse, so will be our fall.

So, one of the keys to finding purpose in this life is to see how God is at work in all of our situations and the events that come to us – good or bad.

  • What is the story of faith and trust he wants to write through us?
  • How do the small acts of love, kindness and obedience add up to tell a larger story of God’s activity in our life?
  • When has he visited us or interrupted our lives in small or large ways to reveal his ways to us?
  • Who are the individuals in our lives with whom he wants us to weave our stories together?

And the questions and searching goes on.

A pinnacle for me in the realization of this was an experience that my wife and I had early on in our lives together. We were a young married couple just out of college.  I had just finished almost two-and-a-half years of being a youth pastor at Neighborhood Christian Center in Bremerton, Washington.  Sensing a change coming, I quit the position fully expecting the Lord to open up something right away.  At least, that what I sincerely believe was going to happen.

Kelly had just finished teaching at Bremerton Christian School. However, she had become pregnant with our first child and they had a policy of not allowing young mothers to teach.  This left us both unemployed.  However, we were still hopeful and expecting the good Lord to bless us and show us the way.

Soon, however, as the months clicked away, it became apparent that nothing was going to materialize as quickly as we thought. Our savings became depleted.  The last pay check from the youth pastor position and teaching position came and went.  It was August of 1987, our son was due to be born at the beginning of October, and we were out of money.

I started taking the Seattle-Bremerton ferry to look for a job in Seattle. Out of desperation, I signed on with an employment agency in hopes that they could find something for me.  Finally, I was signed on with a job with the Pay-n-Pac Corporation – a large chain of home improvement stores.  I was assigned to the Rainier Valley store in Seattle.  This meant a long commute.  While it offered hope down the road, it only added to our immediate financial burden since I would need money for commuting and couldn’t expect a paycheck for two weeks.

We had no idea what to do. We limped financially through the beginning of August.  But unpaid bills were piling up.  September’s rent was soon to be due.  We were desperate.  We prayed and asked God to help.  But our situation only seemed to grow worse and more desperate.  We were reticent about reaching out to family and friends for help.  For Kelly, the days at home alone and pregnant with our first child were depressing and unbearable.  For me, the long commutes to Seattle were depressing.  Instead of listening to the radio like usual, I spent most of the hour-plus commute complaining to God about our predicament.

Where are you God?  Why aren’t you answering us?  Why don’t you provide?  What about the promises you made to us in the Bible?  Do you care about us?  How are we supposed to make it?  Are you really there?  Are you even listening to us?  What have we done to make you angry?  I left me job because I thought you had a plan, did I not hear you right?  Was my ‘step of faith’ a ‘step of stupid’?  Why are you putting us through all of this?  Do you want us to homeless and broke?  After serving in ministry for these last few years, are you just going to leave us hanging in the wind?”  You get the picture.  It was pretty much an hour each way each day of writing my own imprecatory psalms to the Lord.  Only mine didn’t sing as sell as King David’s.

Fall Berries and Raindrops, September 2010

Fall Berries and Raindrops, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

One day, while I was in the middle of my morning commute to Seattle’s Rainier Valley, a knock came to our door. It was early enough that Kelly was still in her pajamas.  Not knowing who it was that would be at our door in the morning, she looked through the peep-hole.  It turned out to be an elderly couple from the church we had just resigned from a couple months prior.  Bruce and Lois Wilkinson had become dear friends and a joy to be around.  He was retired from the Bremerton Shipyard.

Kelly wrapped herself in her bathrobe and opened the door to them.  “Good morning!” she greeted them.

Good morning,” Bruce answered.  “We have some things for you.”

And with that they began to bring in to our apartment bags and boxes of groceries.  Kelly was overwhelmed with the amount of food being brought in.  She continued to thank them profusely as the brought the items in from their car.

Finally, with the last bag of groceries brought in, Bruce and Lois turned to Kelly and said, “Our granddaughter and her husband got a hold of us the other day.  Apparently, they have been praying for you and felt led by the Lord to do something for you to help you guys out.”  He then handed Kelly an envelope.  “And we decided to add something to it ourselves,” Lois added.

We had come to know their granddaughter and her husband only briefly as he had been transferred to Guam by the Navy shortly after we had arrived at the church. Someone in Guam had been praying for us, felt led to “do something” for us, and acted upon it.  Pretty extraordinary when you take into consideration that we had shared with no one our situation.

Kelly looked surprised at first. Then, looking into Bruce and Lois’ smiling faces, began to cry.  She explained to them that they were truly an answer to prayer.  Little did either of us expect that an answer to our prayers would come via friends in Guam!  Bruce and Lois prayed for Kelly and I and our unborn son before they left.

After they left, Kelly put away the groceries. She was amazed at their generosity.  Then she sat down and opened the envelope.  It contained a check and cash.  Stunned, she added up the amount between the two.  Of course, the amount came to what we needed to pay August’s rent as well as September’s and catch up with all of our bills.

About that time, I arrived at work to one of my co-workers calling my name.

Hey, Ron!  You have a phone call.  Sounds like your wife,” they called out to me.

She never called me at work, so I worried, “What could it be?

Hi,” I tentatively greeted her.

Good morning,” she said cheerfully.  “I know you’re at work.  But, I just had to call and tell you.  You’ll never guess just what happened…

She was right.  I couldn’t.

Would I ever want to go through that experience again? No.  Have I gone through tough life situations since then?  Oh, yeah.  But what happened in August 1987 has helped me to learn and remember that even in the midst of our trials and troubles; God is weaving a story line bigger than just our parts.  In the midst of our troubles, someone else’s faith was being stretched into an act of obedience.  To minister to our discomfort and worry, someone else was being prodded to reach out in kindness, care and love.  So, on the good side and on the bad side of life’s experiences, God seems to be at work.

This perhaps is a key to discovering God at work in the big and small events of our life, whether they are good or bad. Solomon seemed to understand this spiritual axiom when he penned the proverb, “In whatever direction life’s road takes you look and listen for Him, and He will make your direction clear as you go” (Proverbs 3:6, my own paraphrase).  Life’s road can have some great stretches that bring us much joy.  But it can also have some rough patches and steep climbs that cause us grief.  Wherever you are, he is there.  Just look for him.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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1. Thank you.  We’re all refreshed and challenged by your unique point of view.

2. The fact that no one understands you doesn’t mean you’re an artist.

3. I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll bet it’s hard to pronounce.

4. Any connection between your reality and mine is purely coincidental.

5. I have plenty of talent and vision.  I just don’t care.

6. I like you.  You remind me of when I was young and stupid.

7. What am I?  Flypaper for freaks!?

8. I’m not being rude.  You’re just insignificant.

9. I’m already visualizing the duct tape over your mouth.

10. I will always cherish the initial misconceptions I had about you.

11. It’s a thankless job, but I’ve got a lot of Karma to burn off.

12. Yes, I am an agent of Satan, but my duties are largely ceremonial.

13. No, my powers can only be used for good.

14. How about never?  Is never good for you?

15. I’m really easy to get along with once you people learn to worship me.

16. You sound reasonable…Time to up my medication.

17. I’ll try being nicer if you’ll try being smarter.

18. I’m out of my mind, but feel free to leave a message…

19. I don’t work here.  I’m a consultant.

20. Who me?  I just wander from room to room.

21. My toys!  My toys!  I can’t do this job without my toys!

22. It might look like I’m doing nothing, but at the cellular level I’m really quite busy.

23. At least I have a positive attitude about my destructive habits.

24. You are validating my inherent mistrust of strangers.

25. I see you’ve set aside this special time to humiliate yourself in public.

26. Someday, we’ll look back on this, laugh nervously and change the subject.

[author unknown]

Complaint Department

Complaint Department

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Lower Robin Lake, Mount Rainier, September 2010

Lower Robin Lake, Mount Rainier, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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Some lessons in life can only be learned by personal experience. Others can tell you about them, teach you them, help you study to be prepared for them and even explain them.  However, the only way for a person to learn to ride a bike is to one day get on it and try to ride it.  The only way a person is going to learn to drive a car is actually get behind the wheel of one and take it around town.  Nothing prepares one for these lessons but personal experience.

Sometimes it is that way with our spiritual journeys too. There are some things about our relationship with the Creator that can only be learned by personal engagement and interaction.  We will never learn them vicariously through someone else’s experiences.  No Bible study or theological lesson can fully prepare us or help us appreciate certain aspects of the journey unless we experience them for ourselves.

One of the benefits of certain renewal movements within the Church has been an emphasis upon personal experience. While it should never trump Scriptural revelation, there is something certainly powerful about personal revelation into the nature and character of God.  After all, someone can go on all they want about the power and beauty of standing on a mountain peak.  But personally standing there and experiencing the exhilaration is something quite different all together.

Some of us have to trust the pictures, stories, and experiences shared by others. On the other hand, some of us get to experience it for ourselves.  We become a part of sharing the story.

I grew up with a Christian religious background that cherished personal experiences with God. It was one thing to have personal knowledge of God.  Our sect took, and continues to take in most circles, great pride in personal experiences.  So, it has been no surprise to me when God in certain seasons of my life has “showed up” in ways that surprised and delighted me.

In my early spiritual formation, I attended a Bible College in Kirkland, Washington, now called Northwest University, after High School. There I shaped and honed spiritual disciplines that still guide me today.  Aside from the general education courses and Bible or theology courses, the opportunity to discover my own spiritual stride for my journey greatly informed my future.

The Winter quarter of my freshman year, I learned from the College’s financial aide office that I would not be allowed to return for the Spring quarter because of my outstanding bills. I owed more than $1,200.  I would need to pay that balance before I could continue to attend.

At the time, I was working at an Exxon gas station in Totem Lake, Washington. The owners were two brothers who were really nice.  They were not Christians but nevertheless hired guys from the Bible College because we all were honest and had a good work ethic.  I appreciated the job, but it just was not enough to keep ahead of my school bills.  I was going to have to inform them that I would have to quit my job as well as school and return home to where my parents lived near Sea-Tac.

The school had given me notice at mid-quarter, so I figured I had a couple of weeks ‘to see what would happen.’ I am not sure what I was expecting would happen, but I have always tried to keep an optimistic outlook.  So, I continued classes determined that I would at least finish that quarter.  If worse came to worse, then I would find work from home and possibly come back for the Fall quarter.

In the mean time, I had started the practice of scheduling one of my class-time slots on my schedule for a time of prayer and reflection in the Men’s Dorm Prayer Chapel. I found it helped me keep a regular schedule for prayer.  I also found the quiet time in the Chapel refreshing.  So, during this time, I added my dilemma about school, paying my school bill and what to do about my job to my list of prayer needs.

As the quarter wound down, my prayer times grew a little more desperate. I may have been the uncertainty of my future, but I found myself praying more intense and intentional prayers.  After all, I needed direction.  I needed answers.  I needed help!

Fall Colors in the Mountains, Roslyn, Washington, September 2010

Fall Colors in the Mountains, Roslyn, Washington, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

It finally came to the point where I needed to do the right thing by my employers and give them my “two weeks notice.” This is a kindness of employees to employers that allows them time to find another employee to replace them and so not disrupt the work place.  I planned on giving notice on a Friday.  At the beginning of the week, on a Monday morning in the Men’s Dormitory Prayer Chapel, I offered God another chance to throw out a rope and rescue me.  Otherwise, I was determined to see it as a closed door.  I was even strongly considering not coming back to college.  I was second guessing everything.

I was perhaps exhausted from struggling with the whole situation in my mind. The stress of the unknown and uncertain weighed heavily down upon me like a 110 lb. sack of sand.  It was in this state that I dumped everything upon the prayer bench in the prayer chapel.  I had no answers, no direction, and seemingly no help.

After expending all my words and thoughts, I fell silent. The room echoed my silence back to me.  My head rested on the prayer bench as I sat upon the floor with my eyes closed tight.

There was nothing. Nothing came to mind.  No brilliant idea.  No flash of inspiration.

Suddenly, I heard a voice speak audibly, “You’ll be here next quarter.”

I opened my eyes started and looked around because I thought that I was alone.  There was no one in the room with me.  Yet, the voice was clear and unmistakable.  I blinked in the dimly lit room.

The words bounced around in my head:You’ll be here next quarter.”  With those words, an unexplained settledness sent upon me.  A certainty about my future filled my heart.  Someway, somehow, I knew without a shadow of any doubt that I would most definitely be at school next quarter.  I took the words only I heard and the feeling only I felt as a gift from God.

I got up and went to get ready for my next class. I had to go to my room to gather a couple of books.  When I entered my room, my roommate was there.  Do I tell him what I just experienced?

As if on cue he asked, “Hey, have you figured out what you’re going to do for next quarter?”

Shaken, I replied, “I’m not sure yet.  Why?”

He looked a little anxious, “Well, I may have another roommate lined up.  That’s all.  If you’re not going to be here that is.”

With as determined a look as I could give him I said emphatically, “I will be here next quarter.  You can count on it.”

You are?” he looked surprised.  “How do you know?”

God told me,” I said and turned and left the room.  I didn’t want to chance seeing him laugh at me.  We were at a Bible College to learn about God, after all, not actually believe God.

As the week continued, I held on to that experience in the Men’s Dorm Chapel. It became an anchor.  However, the question of what to do with my job at the Exxon station came to a conclusion that Friday.  Friday came and I still had no way to pay for school.  The settled assurance that I was still going to be in school next quarter had not left me.  I came to my own conclusion that however God provided for me to be there it was not going to be through the brothers who owned the Exxon gas station.

As soon as I got to the station that Friday afternoon, I called one of the brothers aside and explained my problem. I told him that I really appreciated the job and really like working there.  However, since I was not going to be able to continue at school, I was going to have to move back home with my parents.  Therefore, I would have to quit my job.  He still had two weeks before finals and I would have to move out.

Working with college students, I am certain that both of those brothers had heard the same story over and over before. He thanked me for letting him know.  He said he liked my work and was going to miss me.

He shook my hand and said, “I’ll let my brother know.  If you know anyone who wants a job, let them know to come and talk to us.”  And with that, we went our separate ways doing our own jobs at the station.

Later that day, he and his brother announced that they were going to catch dinner and would be back. They had a back-log of cars to work on and wanted to use part of the evening to catch up.  I busied myself with pumping gas for customers and repairing tires.  Soon they returned.

As I was walking through one of the bays, the brother I approached earlier in the day came up to me and handed out an envelope.

My brother and I were talking over dinner and decided we wanted to help you pay for college.  We’ve never done this,” he explained.  “But he and I just felt we needed to do this for you.”

I was dumbfounded.  “You guys don’t have to do that.  If I can’t pay back college, how am I going to pay you guys back?”

You don’t worry about that,” he said.  “Whatever you are able to pay, you pay back.  We’ll take care of the rest.”

I was humbled by their generosity.  “Thank you so much,” I offered.

Well,” he muttered half to himself as much as to me, “we do expect you to stick around and work with us.  And don’t tell the other guys.  We don’t want anyone to start thinking that we are a charity or college loan fund.”  He smiled and winked at me.

I understand,” I said.  “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.  Thanks.

When I got back to my dormitory room late that night, I took the envelope out and opened it. The check that was written out to me was enough to settle my past school bill as well as get me well on the way paying for the next quarter’s tuition and books.  It dawned upon me that I never told them how much I owed on my bill.

I sat on the side of my bed amazed that God would not only personally give me reassurance about where my future lie, but that he would also use to non-Christian employers to help meet the need. It all defies explanation.  Coincidence?  Perhaps.  But most certainly divinely ordered ones.  I still think of those two brothers often and pray for them.

Now, I could have studied many Scriptures on God’s provision; even memorized many of them. I could also have read many personal experiences of others about how God provided for them.  None of that could or would have the impact upon my life in the same way as God surprising me by speaking to me in a chapel, reassuring me in my heart and then working out the details in the most surprising way.  It has helped to keep my eyes open to other ways God wants to surprise me.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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Catch and Release – A conservation motion that happens most often right before the local Fish and Game officer stops a boat that has caught over its limit.

Hook

1. A curved piece of metal used to catch fish

2. A clever advertisement to entice a fisherman to spend his life savings on a new rod and reel

3. The punch administered by said fisherman’s wife after he spends their life savings (see also: Right Hook, Left      Hook)

Line – Something you give your co-workers when they ask on Monday how your fishing went over the past weekend.

Lure – An object that is semi-enticing to fish, but will drive an angler into such a frenzy that he will charge his credit card to the limit before exiting the tackle shop.

Reel – A weighted object that causes a rod to sink quickly when dropped overboard.

Rod – An attractively painted length of fiberglass that keeps an angler from ever getting too close to a fish.

School – A grouping in which fish are taught to avoid your $29.99 lures and hold out for Spam instead.

Tackle – What your last catch did to you as you reeled him in, just before he wrestled free and jumped back overboard.

Tackle Box – A box-shaped alarmingly like your comprehensive “first aid kit“. The difference is that a tackle box contains many sharp objects, so when you reach in the wrong box blindly to get a Band-Aid, you soon need more than one.

Test

1. The amount of strength a fishing line affords an angler when fighting fish in a specific weight range.

2. A measure of your creativity in blaming “that darn line” for once again losing the fish.

[author unknown]

Get her a diamond ring

Get her a diamond ring

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Lower Robbing Lake, Cathedral Rock and Mount Rainier, September 2010

Lower Robbing Lake, Cathedral Rock and Mount Rainier, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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Extended backpack trips can pose a health risk. But not for the reasons you may think.  For example, more people suffer episodes of diarrhea while camping from soap or improperly prepared food than from dirty dishes.  That’s right.  Poorly rinsed dishes that do not get off all of the soap cause more sickness than dirty dishes.

One is better off just washing with plain water – cold or hot – than trying to use soap. Plus, it is more environmentally friendly.  Need extra scrubbing power?  Find some sand.  Use a knife edge to scrape.  Whatever you do, skip the soap unless you can rinse sufficiently with hot water because only hot water removes the soap.

As to poorly prepared food, well, you’re on your own there. My problem is usually over cooked food.  Camp cooking for my part can resemble more of some kind of pagan burnt offering sacrifice to the gods than actual cooking.  This is one reason I have embraced the easy to prepare freeze-dried meals most backpackers now use.  The hardest part of preparing these meals is lighting the camp stove to boil water.

Aside from those two things, a backpacker is relatively safe when it comes to hygienic issues. One discovers that after traversing miles of trail up the sides of mountains that even a hunk of cheese or summer sausage with his buddy’s fingerprints on it are easily overlooked.  A dropped piece of fruit or granola bar on the ground merely bears the hassle of having to blow it off before popping it the mouth.  Floaties in that drink?  Unless they are squirming, just chalk it up to more fiber or protein in the diet.  The majority of the world includes plants and insects anyway.  So, go global!

The toughest part may be keeping personal hygiene issues at bay. Dirt and smell are just a part of the experience I figure.  This is particularly true when the trail has been muddy.  Aside from the sweat the workout produces, the dirt and mud can get everywhere.  What does one do?

Of course, there is always the nearby stream or lake. A simple washing and rinsing of face, hand and feet (preferably in that order) is usually sufficient.  It can even be invigorating in alpine lake and streams where the water is only a short distance from the glacier that produced it.

Then, there are backpackers like my buddy, Dan Tourangeau. They are sophisticated enough to carry prettily packaged personal wipes.  For those unfamiliar with these, they were first produced as baby wipes.  These handy towelettes could be used in a moments notice when changing a diaper or cleaning up after a meal.

One day, someone must have realized that they were good for adults too. They are now everywhere.  People carry them in purses, school backpacks, office drawers and in cars.  They substitute for the lack of a bathroom’s wash basin.  The varieties are endless: aloe, anti-bacterial, with scents, without scents, exfoliating.

Now it appears to have entered the world of backpacking. My buddy, Dan, had a few packages.  I admit they were pretty convenient to use before meals or after a trip into the woods “to talk to a man about a horse.”   They must now be a very important commodity to have since Dan has his pack weighed to the ounces.  He does not want to have to carry more than he has to up a mountain.  Who can blame him?  So, for him to pack those in and then pack those out, they must be a necessity.

The last night of our five day/four night trip, Dan decided to practice a little backwoods hygiene with his fancy personal wipes. I was tucked in my sleeping bag in my own tent and starting to fall to sleep when I was dragged from dreamland to reality.

GACK!”  The sound coming from Dan’s tent sounded like he was asphyxiating.

Are you alright,” I asked.  I was truly concerned for his safety as equally as I was about having to pack him out if something should happen to him.

Yeah,” he reassured me.  “I’m just trying to clean my feet with these personal wipes but I can hardly stand the smell of my own feet!”  After a few moments, there was another loud, “GAAAAA!

I chuckled.  “Why are you cleaning your feet now?  We’re packing out in the morning.”

He explained, “I was tired of my dirty feet and thought I would clean them.  But now I’m wondering if that was such a good idea.  Good grief I’m stinky!

Why are you doing that in your tent,” I asked.  “Being in a confined space only makes it worse.”

I didn’t think of that,” said Dan.  Another few moments passed and then, “AACK!  I think I’m going to throw-up!  I don’t think I’ve ever smelled so bad!

I laughed out loud.  “Well, good luck with that.  I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’re done.”

I don’t know if I will survive it.  I mean, this is really bad!

Well,” I offered, “better thee than me.”  And with that I rolled over and settled back into my sleeping bag.  I was exhausted from that days hike up to Robin Lake and back.  It seems, however, that sleep would have to wait a little longer.  After just a couple minutes of the sounds of night birds and crickets…

GAAA!!” shouted Dan.

Now what?” I asked.

I know that this is TMI (Too Much Information), but I decided to clean my privates because I smelled so bad.  I think the wipes only made the smell worse!

You’re right,” I offered.  “That is TMI.  Unbelievable.”

I think I’m going to pass out it’s so bad!” Dan protested.

Do you have your tent flap open?” I inquired.

No!  That’s a good idea.”  Next, I heard the zipper of Dan’s tent flap.  “Whew!  That’s a little better.”  A few moments passed before I heard in the dark, “Man!  I don’t know why I stink so bad.  I don’t usually ever smell this bad.”

According to who?” I quipped.

I mean it.  The smell is nauseating,” said Dan.  “It got worse after washing my butt!

Good grief!” I exclaimed.  “Some things should not be disturbed on an extended backpack trip until one gets to a shower.  Unbelievable!

I think you’re right,” Dan laughed.

I’m going to give you the Bible name, Lazarus, so that every time I see you I can say, ‘Surely, Lord, he stinketh!‘” I joked.

Should I go around shouting, ‘Unclean!  Unclean!’?” Dan joked back.

We both laughed out loud.  You have to love camp humor.

Hey,” a thought suddenly came to me.  “Make sure you put those wipes outside the tent.  If they’re that bad they’ll scare off any wild life that comes around in the middle of the night.”

Good idea,” said Dan.  After a few moments of silence, I heard, “Where’s my clean socks?  I know that I had another pair somewhere.  I can’t find them.”

Maybe you’ll find them better in the morning when you have better light,” I offered.

Yeah.  Maybe.  Man, this is baaaaaad!” Dan commented.

Well, I’m certainly glad you have your own tent.”

Fall Colors in Alpine Meadow, Granite Mountain, September 2010

Fall Colors in Alpine Meadow, Granite Mountain, September 2010 ©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

Soon, Dan quieted down and I drifted off to sleep.  I slept hard and woke the next morning to the sun peaking through the trees and making sun blotches on my tent.  It looked like it was going to be another fine day.  We had misty, rainy weather packing in, so it will be nice having a sunny day to make our way out and back to the car.

I unzipped the flap to my tent and reached for my boots sitting just outside it under the rain-fly vestibule. I slipped my boots on without tying them, unzipped the rain fly and pushed myself up and out of the tent’s door.  My stiff legs took a moment to adjust to my weight.  I looked around.  Dan wasn’t up yet.

I went and watered a tree and then climbed atop a rock that overlooked the lake and looked toward the morning sunrise. Yep.  It was going to be a beautiful day.  There was a part of me that was wishing we had a few more days.  I sighed and headed down my rocky perch back to our campsite.

As I approached our tents, I noticed the dozen or so towelettes scattered on the ground in front of Dan’s tent. I remembered with a smile the events of the evening before.  Suddenly, there was movement in the tent, the zipper to the tent door began to move around by an unseen hand, and Dan poked his head out.

Good morning!”  I greeted him.  “It’s going to be a beautiful day to hike out.”

Morning,” Dan mumbled.  He gingerly raised himself up out of his tent, eyeing the sanitary wipes on the ground and careful not to disturb them.

I suppose those will have to be packed out,” he mused.

Yeah,” I answered.

You don’t think you’d mind doing me a favor,” he grinned and looked at me.

Oh, no,” I protested.  “Those are bio-hazards.  You’re responsible for packing out your own garbage.  I’d find a zip-lock bag and put them in there.”

Good idea.”

We made our last breakfasts.  Ate them in our leisure and then packed up camp.  Dan found an old freeze-dried meal pouch and put the wipes in there and sealed it good.

I was dirty, sweaty and looking forward to a shower and shave when I got home. I’m sure I had my own unique scent.  But when one has been out in nature longer than a couple of days, I figure it is better to embrace it than fight it.  After all, humankind has lived and survived in the wilderness longer than it has in modern civilization with all of its cleanliness rules.  Civilization just teaches us to hide the dirt.

Dan appeared and smelled cleaner perhaps, but he was still carrying it; albeit in a zippered pouch buried in his backpack. Me?  I was proudly wearing my dirt until I re-entered civilization where my wife and children would have nothing to do with me until I cleaned up.  I’m thinking my way is much safer.

©Weatherstone/Ron Almberg, Jr. (2010)

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