Our Adventure Out West this Summer Part Two of Three

 

On Sunday morning, July 30th, after nearly a week away from home, we drove a few miles up the road from our cabin in Coram, Montana and entered Glacier National Park. Often considered the “Crown Jewel” of the National Park system, Glacier has grown so popular in recent years that reservations are required to use its famed “Going to the Sun Road.”

Thanks to the wisdom of our eventual cabin-mate, however–Dirk Bohnhoff–we had reserved the coveted digital ticket back in April. (900 vehicle tickets went on sale at 8:00 A.M. on April 1st for this trek. All 900 of them sold out within ten minutes! The price is negligible–just a couple dollars–but their importance is not.)

We were novices, of course, so we didn’t really know what to do. Dirk had offered us a few suggestions, however, so we spent most of the morning exploring the north-east shore of Lake McDonald. The kids skipped stones and posed for pictures. We rented a kayak for an hour, and then enjoyed a short boat ride up and down the lake. After disembarking we stopped by a few waterfalls within walking distance of the road; the kids put on their water shoes and waded around. We ate a picnic, then prepared for our first real challenge: a five mile hike up to Avalanche Lake.

            At first we strolled along a boardwalk through a forest of old-growth trees reminiscent of the Pacific Northwest. Once we walked a half mile into the woods, however, the actual hiking began.

            One of the more unnerving aspects of walking around the woods in this part of the state was all the bear signs. Hikers are constantly reminded, “Hey, there are bears here.” Under most circumstances, these signs would be tantamount to “Do not enter,” but here they were more of, “Try not to get mauled.”

            The best anti-mauling strategy is to walk in groups and make noise. Bears are not fond of humans, and so if they do hear you they will almost always walk the other way and pretend you’re the person in Wal-Mart they want to avoid. You will rarely see bears. We didn’t, but that didn’t stop us from practicing the other anti-mauling strategy, which is to carry around bear spray. We never went more than a few minutes without meeting fellow hikers on their way back down the mountain, and they, like us, were armed with a can of super-mace clipped somewhere within reach.

 Once we reached the top after a good hour of walking, the kids tiptoed into the frigid lake. We watched and took pictures, enjoying our front row seat to a postcard. Icy little brooks laced down the side of the mountains like wedding ribbons. Dozens of chipmunks scampered around the edges of the shore, scavenging for crumbs left by exhausted hikers. After a half-hour, we convinced the kids to get their dry clothes back on so we could return to our truck before dark. Fortunately, the hike back down the mountain moved quicker than going up. Daylight had begun to fade, especially on the forest floor, and by the time we made it back to the truck it was twilight.

            When we made it “home” we discovered that our cabin mates, the Bohnhoffs, had arrived in our absence. They had ventured out to explore on their own, though, so we made a quick supper and settled in for the evening. Once they returned we swapped stories and made plans for the next day.

            On Monday, July 31st, the nine of us in two vehicles ventured east to Two Medicine Lake. Since this lake is nestled on the south-east side of the park, we drove along the southern edge of Glacier to reach it. Although we didn't have a reservation for this particular road, we were allowed entrance into the park because of a boat tour we had scheduled for later that morning. We went on a very short walk, and then embarked on our second boat ride in as many days, this one taking us to the other side of the lake.

            Some of the folks stayed on the boat; others began exploring in various directions. We chose a one-hour hike to Twin Falls with the hope of making it back to the dock for the 11:15 return trip. This didn’t pan out; we missed the boat by a good twenty-minutes. However, the pebbly beach was ideal for swimming and the dock provided the perfect spot for the kids to jump into the cold water. Eventually, around 1:00 in the afternoon, we saw the ferry puttering our way, and enough explorers got out for us to find a return seat. Once back on the more populated side we devoured our picnic lunches, and then left Two Medicine.

To get back to the cabin, instead of retracing our path around the southern edge of the park, we decided to drive through Glacier from the east via the “Going to the Sun” Road. Because it was after 3:00 by the time we entered at the St. Mary entrance (after a pit stop for ice cream and sandwiches, of course) we didn’t need a reservation. The highway hugged the north shore of Saint Mary Lake for close to ten miles before climbing up to Logan Pass, the highest spot on the road. We took another break for a short hike around the visitor center, saw some wildlife - mountain goats and bighorn sheep - and then decided it was time to call it a day.

After an intense half-hour of creeping down from Logan Pass to the valley, the jagged edges of the mountain often just inches from our rear-view mirror, we sighed and enjoyed the relatively wide highway that led us to the west entrance of the park. The evening back at the cabin was relaxed. We all enjoyed a spaghetti supper followed by a Texas Hold’ Em tutorial from Laurie.

            The next day, Tuesday August 2nd, Dirk and I left the cabin early to try and find the correct place to dump our garbage. We failed, but then stopped by the little village of Apgar near the west entrance of the park to grab some coffee and watch in disbelief as a set of young people leapt into frigid Lake McDonald and immediately started screeching. We returned to the cabin for pancakes and eggs, and then we all geared up for the big event of the day: white water rafting!

            We had all rafted together last summer in Tennessee, but that had been more of a relaxing float trip. This adventure was longer and more intense in spots, with a few class three rapids that required focus. We eventually came to a spot in the river that was calm enough for the kids and the dumber adult - me - to hop off the raft and soak. The water was too cold for soaking, though, and once I stopped sputtering I quickly latched back onto the raft and allowed JaLana and Laurie to unceremoniously plop me back onto the boat.

            We returned to the cabin for lunch, then went back into Glacier, this time from the west side, and headed once more up to Logan’s Pass. Once we left the valley floor the road quickly narrowed. Special care had been made when designing this part of the trek to blend the highway with the natural landscape as much as possible. Thus, there is only one scratchy-looking switchback. The rest of the ascent (or descent, depending on which way you’re driving) hugs the mountain on one side and offers a vertigo-inducing drop on the other. 

             Some curves swayed casually, with the bends offering drivers a few moments to gather their wits before passing within inches of oncoming traffic. Other curves jerked back and forth, like awkward dancers at a junior high sock hop.

            We were on such a curve when a truck cut in.

(To be concluded…)

           

           

 

            .

           

 

Our Adventure Out West This Summer Part One of Three

We started our journey early on Monday, July 24th and drove all the way to Sioux Falls, South Dakota in plenty of time to check into our hotel, enjoy a meal, and swim. The next morning we made a quick stop in Mitchell, SD to visit the famed Corn Palace, which is a real place and worth the slight detour on our way to Badlands National Park.

Badlands was beautiful but, like most of America that week, scorching! We went on a few brief hikes but mostly just enjoyed the scenery from the comfort of our air-conditioned vehicle while listening to our enthusiastic tour guide. (JaLana had wisely downloaded an App that offered insight as we traveled through multiple national parks.)

We stayed in Rapid City, South Dakota on the evening of the 25th, which gave us a great start for exploring the Black Hills region for most of the next day. We visited the Crazy Horse exhibit and drove through the winding roads and narrow tunnels of Custer State Park before checking out Mount Rushmore. Because all of this exploring wasn’t quite enough, though, we then headed west again for another six-hour trek to reach our hotel in Cody, Wyoming.

The logic behind driving so much on Wednesday was to give us time on Thursday to explore Yellowstone, the Disney World of the National Park System. Despite the crowds, though, we enjoyed a few of the “must see” attractions:  the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, the Grand Prismatic hot springs and, of course, Old Faithful.

Thursday evening was spent at a hotel in West Yellowstone, a town just outside the park across the border in Montana. On Friday morning the 27th, after a delicious but overpriced breakfast, we returned to Yellowstone to look at more gurgling earth vents and other amazing geological phenomena. The day took a turn for the worse, however, when a rental RV backed into and shattered our left tail light! Fortunately the driver was from Mattoon, Illinois, believe it or not, and so we got along just fine and quickly discovered we knew the same person.

Small world, huh? Small parking lot, too, especially for a giant rental camper! I guess that’s why God invented taillight insurance. (We had borrowed my dad’s extended cab Silverado pick-up truck for the journey, as it sat all five of us comfortably and offered plenty of easily accessible cargo space. I like to think dad would have appreciated his final farm truck making a journey to parts of America he had visited during his lifetime. I also think he would appreciate the small irony in me once again finding a way to damage - even inadvertently - one of his vehicles, just like old times.)

Or maybe not.

Regardless, after finding some lens tape to Band-Aid the tail light damage in the short term, we continued making our way north and spent the evening of Friday the 28th in Helena, Montana. The next morning, after our fifth hotel breakfast in a row, we packed up and took what we thought would be a relaxing visit to their state capital building just up the road.

It was a Saturday, so the building was mostly empty. We explored the inside rotunda area for a short while, then decided to go get pictures from the outside. We kept hearing squealing tires from the other side of the building, but dismissed the noise as a hurried motorist. As we walked around, however, we realized the squealing was coming from near the entrance itself. Some excited Montana citizen was trying to climb up the state capitol steps in his truck!

 

A confused guard came out to investigate and then began to shout. As the driver began his “escape,” - squealing, struggling and then snapping through security chains - we realized that we were in the potential area of his likely-inebriated path.

“Get out of the way!” the guard shouted, so we began to scamper toward the side of the building like startled chipmunks. Before our heart rates got too high, however, we realized the moron was driving away so we slowed down and quickly tried to make light of the unexpected drama.

The rest of our drive north was relatively calm and scenic. Despite packing a crazy amount of food and cooking gear for Annaka - a toaster, for example; an air fryer; a griddle - we had scheduled a pickup at the Kalispell Wal-Mart to get even more food and supplies. Adequately prepped, we made the final leg of the journey to our rental cabin in Coram, Montana, just outside of Glacier National Park.

The cabin came with two bathrooms, three bedrooms, and about a dozen animal faces hanging on the wall, welcoming us to their home.

“This seems creepy right now because you’re tired and it’s new.” I wisely explained to my nervous children. “Twenty four hours from now, that elk will look completely cool.”

This was a lie, as it turns out. That elk never did look cool because it was dead, but the cabin itself was perfect and the kids slept just fine, which was important, as the next day we would begin exploring the “Crown Jewel” of the National Park System - Glacier National Park!

            

 

Acres

 

When I was a boy I told my dad I was going to be a real farmer. This meant I would do everything he did but also have chickens.

Before long I changed my mind and decided to be a stuntman, like Lee Majors, and then a baseball player, like Cardinal second baseman Tommy Herr. After a few innings of Little League I switched again and instead chose the much more reasonable profession of archeology. (Like Indiana Jones, I also understood the importance of museums.)

As the years passed even this idea faded, but I never did go back to wanting to be a farmer. Dad was OK with that, though.

“You should be what you think,” I remember him explaining, seemingly at peace with my decision and perhaps relieved he would no longer have to worry about me bumping tractors into power lines.

By the end of high school I thought I was going to be a journalist but then chose to study history, and along with history I enrolled in SIU’s College of Education. I was well into my last semester, however, and still had no intention of actually teaching. My plan was to go to grad school, perhaps, or maybe publish a trashy novel. Regardless, I wasn’t thinking much about running my own classroom at all.

Then one day in April of 1998, twenty-five years ago this past spring, I experienced what I now consider a noisy moment of clarity. I was student-teaching my boisterous crew of 8th grade geography students at Marion Junior High School, having just finished a clumsily executed but meticulously designed lesson on European borders. The students were smiling, I was smiling, and I knew--finally--what I needed to know.

I was not going to be a teacher.

I was a teacher.

Teaching just made sense and it was fun. Besides that, I had gifts that seemed to lend themselves to the profession, such as patience and a sense of humor, along with the desire to be blamed for setting but also help quench society’s never-ending list of dumpster fires.

I understood at that moment that teaching was simply part of what I was designed to be.

(Fortunately I figured this out before I graduated a few weeks later!)

Now as a high school teacher, part of my job is to help students find success on their own path. As an English instructor this means teaching them ways to enhance their own writing, but, perhaps more importantly, it means convincing them that writing is a craft that can help them regardless of what path they end up choosing.

This is often a tough sell.

As a parent, though, one of my biggest jobs is to simply help my own children find their way in the first place. This takes time, of course, and is done partially by helping them discover their own gifts.

 As the apostle Paul wrote to the Romans, “We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us.” Granted, Paul was referring to spiritual gifts more so than talents, but God has blessed all of us with certain skills and dispositions that - in the right environment - will allow us to live full, fruitful lives.

Unfortunately, this “discovering of gifts” often requires a certain level of quiet that seems to be increasingly difficult to find in our modern schedules. The tighter our calendars get, the less time there is for reflection. We sometimes schedule our lives up to the last minute, and when we do get some “downtime,” what is one thing we often have at our disposal to make certain we don’t use it to just think?  If we’re going to organize their days, at the very least we should also offer our children the space to consider their calling—among other big ideas—away from distractions, away from the poison and barnyard noise most of now carry around with us in our pockets.

Although we never did get chickens, my brother is now the real farmer, working the soil that’s been in the family for generations. I don’t regret my own path, but I do often envy the relative solitude that comes with farming; the hours alone in the tractor driving up and down the rows, surrounded by blue sky and various shades of green. Decades ago, somewhere in those acres, I imagined myself following all kinds of paths, and I likely planned out at least one future where I followed in my mother’s footsteps to become a teacher.

 I’m thankful I had all those acres to just think. Now I need to offer my own children the space to ponder the rows in front of them.

Literally

 

Summer is always busy for Uncertified Life Coaches, and this season is no exception. My uncertified in-box is absolutely brimming with reader queries, so let’s jump right in!

Summer Question Number One - “Does anyone know when my kids will stop using the word “literally” in almost every sentence? It’s very annoying and I’m pretty sure they aren’t even using it correctly.”

Answer: Chances are they aren’t, and you’re absolutely right - many of our young people are using this modifier at a dangerous pace, popping the word into places it doesn’t belong in a misguided quest for clarity. Unfortunately, overuse has rendered the term almost impotent. The abuse is so profound, in fact, it can be categorized into three unique errors:

Misuse Example One: The False Statement - “I’m so hungry I could literally eat a horse.”

No you cannot.

Although the cultural acceptance of eating horse meat has waned in recent centuries, it is technically suitable for human consumption. However, many parts of the animal are simply not edible, such as the teeth, hooves, and probably the tail. Therefore, no one can literally eat an entire horse, which makes the statement false. Besides the fact we have a potential mixed metaphor (the saying is generally, “I’m as hungry as a horse,” to convey a robust appetite) the word “literally” shouldn’t be there in the first place, as it suggests the speaker is a hungry psycho.

Misuse Example Number Two: Redundancy - “It’s literally so cold out.”

This is just dumb. Under most circumstances there would be enough context between speaker and listener to make the modifier unnecessary. Chances are, the listener is also cold, and so for the speaker to emphasize they are not being figurative and the air temperature does, in fact, lack warmth, is just someone adding words to make themselves sound smart.

Which is something I know a lot about. To fix this, the statement should be, “It’s so cold out I could eat a horse.”

Misuse Example Three: Face Palm - “Dude, are you literally right now?”

This one is so bad I’m not even sure where to begin, but I add it because it’s something I have literally heard myself. The solution here is to just not talk. 

This wraps up our language segment of Uncertified Life Coaching. Now let’s move onto science with this question: “What should I do about all these UFO sightings?”

Answer - I sense you’re asking more than one question, but considering how much of my life has been spent watching Star Wars content, you’ve definitely come to the right place.

For starters, the known universe is pretty big, so it's unlikely we are the only intelligent life forms out there. However, when it comes to UFOs and the plausibility that aliens are using space gas to actually visit us, we need to ask this humbling question, “If I had the ability to travel through hyperspace, would I voluntarily hang out with these people?” 

Unless Earth is some kind of intergalactic reality show being visited by very bored aliens, I would suggest most aerial weirdness is either naturally occurring phenomena we simply can’t explain, or actual human aircraft our governments pretend not to understand. This leads us, then, to our Civics Question:

“Who do you think is going to win the 2024 Presidential Election?”

Answer: Not us.

Summer Question Number Four: “Is Artificial Intelligence going to take my job?”

Answer: I would assume so, yes. I mean, well, let’s backtrack a little - what is your job? Are you in sales? Actually, you know what, never mind, it doesn’t matter…yes, eventually A.I. will take your job and family, but in the meantime, you should still work really hard so your boss at least feels bad about replacing you.

Summer Question Number Five: “Speaking of employment, I happen to be a middle aged person with bad knees and a stressful job. Is it literally too late to change careers?”

Answer: If you can ask the question you’ve already answered it. Focusing on a concrete goal, such as a career adjustment or a health benchmark, is rewarding in and of itself. Even if you don’t quite hit the mark, you will still grow as a person and perhaps inspire others to do the same. To paraphrase the late great Stan Lee, if you're convinced something is a good idea, go for it!

After all, when it comes to uncertified life coaching, it’s not about where you start but when, and considering how quickly A.I. is evolving, the time to start is now.

Arcs

I like Disney World.

I know that’s a controversial stance in some circles, but it’s true.

As a Star Wars and Marvel enthusiast, I know I am supposed to be annoyed at the way they have given my superheroes and space villains predictable character arcs and silly dialogue. I also know, as a parent, I’m supposed to be worried subliminal messages will turn my children into spell-casting sex fiends.

I understand all of that, but I do like Disney World, and the reason I like the place is the same reason so many people like so many different things, which is nostalgia.

After all, I grew up watching Disney movies. I went to Disneyland as a little kid and Disney World as an adolescent. My wife and I took our older two kids to Orlando when they seemed to be at the perfect age to enjoy it the most, and over the years our family has learned to sing and tolerate dozens of Disney songs.

Because she has grown up in such an environment, then, perhaps it was inevitable Annaka has wanted to go to Disney World for as long as she’s known there was such a thing. Why wouldn’t she? It sounds great on paper, and so we always assumed we would take her there when the time was right. Because of the nostalgia part, I was looking forward to this future memory myself.

A few concerns made us warry, however.

The medicine Annaka needs to keep her liver transplant working, for example, makes her skin prone to melanoma and her immune system less capable of fighting off infections. Her fluid needs are above average, (which means her restroom needs are above average) and she’s also dangerously allergic to much of the American diet. All of these considerations meant standing in line for hours and navigating through throngs of people was going to be more than just annoying, it would be a health hurdle to be jumped.

Despite these medical issues, however, when a volunteer from the Make-A-Wish organization suggested we apply, it wasn’t really on our radar. Considering how well Annaka had recovered from the liver transplant itself, we doubted she would be eligible. We went through the process, however, filling out the paperwork, getting doctors’ signatures, and, to our surprise, her wish was granted!

Around the time we were looking at potential dates, however, the calendar turned to 2020, and nearly all traveling stopped. We paused. The trip was put on hiatus, along with so many other plans. Eventually the world did open back up and so did our itinerary. In retrospect, the delay was beneficial for a couple of reasons. For one, Annaka will remember so much more as a seven-year-old, and secondly, she was now tall enough to enjoy most of the same rides as her siblings.

The trip itself was a whirlwind of activity and planning, particularly as we tried to figure out how to feed her at the parks and on the plane. We did it, though. Even though it meant stashing an air fryer in our checked baggage and lugging around a soft back cooler around the parks, we managed.

We took her to Disney World, and, thanks to military-grade planning by my wife and advice from my cousin, enjoyed everything it offered: Hollywood Studios, Animal Kingdom, Epcot, and, of course, the Magic Kingdom itself. Universal Studios was also part of the gift, and so we enjoyed the rides, shows, and crowds there as well.

It was a big week with a lot of moving parts, but Annaka loved it. She loved the VIP treatment each time a park associate led us toward the front of the line and she especially adored being big enough to ride roller coasters with her siblings. Part of our enjoyment was reminiscing on previous visits, but mostly it was just watching the three of them enjoy each day.

One of the calmer highlights, however, came the morning of our return home.

Our evenings in Florida had been spent at Give Kids the World Village in nearby Kissimmee. This whimsical little resort is a vacation in itself, complete with swimming pools, an arcade, and even its own mini-golf course. Besides the VIP treatment here as well, each wish kid is also given the privilege of ceremoniously signing their name to their own little golden star. This star is then placed among thousands and thousands of identical stars inside the community's colorful castle.

This was a joyful moment but also somber, as we were saturated with the understanding that many of those stars can no longer be visited by those who signed them; we were reminded in a powerful way how blessed we were, and how fragile and precious childhood truly is.

Families are allowed to return to the resort a couple times a year as an afternoon guest, to visit their star and to reminisce on their time together. Nostalgia can be a powerful force, and so we’re already looking forward to this memory.