God, spiders, and the bald eagle

Our family camping trip to Rock Island was great. It's quite an expedition---first, drive to the northern tip of Door County, hop on the car ferry to Washington Island, drive across the island to Northeastern tip where the gear is unloaded and transferred to the ferry that crosses the water to Rock Island. You're plopped at the boathouse where the trek begins to the campsites which can be quite a distance away (ask my back and legs). It's at least a quarter mile and we had a LOT of gear. We got some help from Suzanne's sister's family for the leg of the journey---and it was greatly appreciated.

I wasn't the model camper upon arrival and was crabby and tense as we set up the tent and the tarp in a less than ideal camping spot (if you ever go to Rock Island DO NOT choose site #3). I had taken this one sight unseen via the internet, and what looked great on the map was a pretty crummy site---totally open to the trail. Seriously, anyone who walked by was almost directly in our site---and that was a little disconcerting at first. Plus, since we were nearly on the beach, there was a sand. A lot of sand. Sand upon sand. Trillions of grains which all seemed to cling to our stuff, especially our shoes and feet where it would then be deposited in the tent. I don't like sand very much.

Camping requires a certain mentality which I hadn't acquired yet for this trip. Once I realized that my reality was sand, and dirt, and people able to look right into our site, I relaxed and became a better camper. I fixed a big pancake breakfast the next day and felt better, and we enjoyed the kid's pleasure at being with their cousins. We explored some of the trails and hiked a bit. One of my personal highlights was coming up off a trail towards the beach and seeing a bald eagle sitting in a tree 100 feet away. It was so beautiful and gave us a great chance to see a breathtakingly majestic bird before it flew away with a snake in its talons. (It's a bird that has large talons---for you Napoleon Dynamite fans).

Quiet time while camping is wonderful. I'd get up early---get the water going for my coffee---and then open the Bible and OC's My Utmost for His Highest whereupon I'd drink in God's word while perched on the picnic table listening to the busy red squirrels, the noisy gulls and the even noisier crows.

One day had us head up to the northern part of the island where the lighthouse stands. Our trekkers went in three different directions---some stayed at the lighthouse for the tour, some headed back to the campground---and I took the long trail back along the eastern side of the island. It was so beautiful and I was pretty much the only one on the trail. I saw, heard, felt, and was with God during every step and could see His hand in every single piece of His creation---the fallen trees returning to the earth, the lichen, the wind in the leaves, the rocks on the trail, the glistening spider webs strung between trees. Y'know, drinking in creation even can give you a little less fear of spiders. They're pretty amazing inventions and there is a spooky beauty to them (unless they're inside your pots and pans when preparing breakfast).

I knew I had fully gained camper status when, on the final day, thunder announced an approaching storm as we were preparing to break camp. Our family worked together as an amazingly efficient team---taking down the tent, gathering gear, tidying the site---and we got everything done as the rain started and we were able to retreat under our tarp while waiting out the storm. After a bit we lugged our stuff back up to the boat landing for the beginning of the journey back to civilization.

Sometimes when I daydream about chucking it all and moving somewhere else to live a quieter life---I picture myself somewhere near mountains working in a little equipment hut maintaining and storing gear. I see myself coiling ropes, hanging the tents, repairing stoves, airing out sleeping bags, cleaning and arranging the cook kit and otherwise puttering with all the stuff.

Guess what I get to do today---my final day of vacation? I'm going to be able to live that day. On our back deck is all our stuff still grimy from the trip. The sky is blue, the coffee is made, I've had wonderful quiet time and now I get to spend the day pretending to be in that mountain hut lost in the peace and quiet and my own random thoughts. I have learned that days like today---even when filled with what others could consider drudgery--are total gifts from above. God has gifted me with a day out of my daydreams---and I can't wait.