Lunkers

My first trip to Brown Lake . . . early exposure to one of my greatest buddies . . . Layton Ford. I am a Grand Manan trout fisherman. It goes like this. When you get to the fishing hole, you cut a pole from an alder that is as straight as you can find. Then you reach...

Never Judge a Man . . .

. . . until you’ve walked a mile in his Sandro Comfort Gels We stood in the airport together.  He was returning to the West Coast after a few days of sanity in his own neck of the woods.  Things had recently imploded in his marriage and he was sadly sorting...

The Chimes of Time . . .

Lord of this hour, Be Thou my Guide. And by Thy Power No foot shall slide. I was alone by my own choice in the early morning downtown core. The others were out there . . . somewhere, . . . beating the frost-dressed pavement, huffing, puffing and scuffing their way...

Against the Wind . . .

. . . I’m older now but not Bob Seger Okay . . . you are going to have to forgive me here. I know that we are all in different times and seasons of our lives but I am wired today. It’s not coffee. I am sitting at the kitchen table trying to get a message for...

Way Down Upon The Youghiogheny River

In the spring of 1983, I think . . . I went white water rafting on the Youghiogheny River. It was a sparsely attended youth group outing of about 15 deranged souls.  The trip began in Pennsylvania and ended just into West Virginia. Normally, it was a 5-hour experience...