Niangua River Trip

Here are some pictures of our last float trip, they aren’t great, but you get the idea. If you click on the picture, it enlarges the image.

Blog Tutor

I’m evaluating a multi-media course on blogging from the folks at Simpleology. For a while, they’re letting you snag it for free if you post about it on your blog.

It covers:

• The best blogging techniques.
• How to get traffic to your blog.
• How to turn your blog into money.

I’ll let you know what I think once I’ve had a chance to check it out. Meanwhile, go grab yours while it’s still free.

NaNoWriMo Completed!

It is official. I ended up last night with 51,113 words! The book is not finished, but now I have something to work on. What a great feeling.

Congratulations to everyone that won, or will win NaNoWriMo! (Good luck to those of you that are close.)

If you didn’t participate this year, I would highly recommend it for next year. Actually, why wait? You can do it any month. It is a blast to get lost in a story for awhile, and see what you come up with.

Chad

Halfway (House)

I was going to post this last night, seeing as that was the actual halfway point for NaNoWriMo. However, I was entirely to much like the guy in the above picture!

That was good news though. At the beginning of the week, I was down about 6,000 words. With two very productive nights this week, I finished up last night at 23,699 words, only -1301!

Hopefully, I can get through the rest of the month, without having to go to a halfway house!

For those of you participating, I hope you are having a blast, and all is going well. Good luck.

[Thanks to B for the clip!]

NaNoWriMo Update

Well, we are almost half way through NaNoWriMo. My brain is starting to feel as scrambled as the above image. As you can see by the word count meter in the right side bar, I am 32% done. Which isn’t bad, however, we are almost 50% done with the month!

I am about 4,000 words down. Remaining optimistic, I am fairly confident I can make that up. In the scheme of things it really only amounts to an extra 235 words per day. This remains under 2000 words per day, to achieve the 50,000.

Thanks for checking on me! Feel free to leave me some encouragement in the comments, not that I am begging…at least not yet!

Man Versus Hotel

I am sure you have heard the news story about Man Versus Wild being a bogus television show. If not, you can read it here. Basically, it involves man vs. nature, inserted in the middle of nowhere, he has to make his way home, without assistance. I guess staying in a hotel is okay though, as long as you don’t order room service.

I can see the commercial now, actually, I am surprised it is not already airing.

Grylls narrowly escapes death in harrowing circumstances. He completes his journey. Coming out of the wild, man approaches him, “That was amazing! You must have incredible knowledge of the wild and wicked survival skills.”

Grylls replies, “No, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night!”

NaNoWriMo Update

Wow caffeine definitely helps! There is a widget on the side bar with my word count for National Novel Writing Month numbers, if you are following along! Any words of encouragement are welcome!

You can also check out my NaNoWriMo stats, read an excerpt and all kinds of other info at nanowrimo.org.

I hope you are all participating as well, if you haven’t started yet, it is not to late.

Chad

NaNoWriMo

Always wanted to write a novel? Why don’t you start now?

November is National Novel Writing Month. This will be my first time participating, I encourage you to as well. It should be a blast. NaNoWriMo is a free, inspiring way to get you started on an incredible adventure.

I will try to keep you up-to-date on how I am doing and share excerpts of what I am writing with you.

If you decide to join in the fun, feel free to leave me a comment or drop me an email if there is anything I can do to help.

Chad

Floating With Jesus

Perception

We woke up about three in the morning to the sound of rain pelting against the aluminum camper shell of the new 1981 Chevrolet Silverado. Mom was a little frightened by the storm. Dad, my brother and I, however, were saying, “Ohhh yeah, this is good sleeping weather.” I wasn’t worried. Was there any question that Dad’s truck would protect us? This may have been the Chevy’s first float trip, but I have been in similar situations before.

Dad custom designed a bed in the back of the truck that would rival any motel room, and quite possibly any bed you have ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. The rain, lightning, and resulting thunder was the best sleep aid I could have asked for. Mom eventually managed to fall back asleep.

Seven in the morning seems early in any other environment, but not by the river. Stretching, I crawled out of the bed of the truck, looked around and observed the fog slowly lifting off the cobalt water of the Niangua River. My mind felt as foggy as my surroundings. I love camping, having neighbors no more than five feet away at any time, there is really no better sense of community. Lost deep in thought, watching the tranquil water slip by ten feet below my feet, Dad stepped up behind me and his arm fell on my shoulder as he sat on the edge of the river bank beside me.

“Good morning,” I said. We stood there for a moment in silence.

The temperature was swiftly approaching the typical, mid-summer, August one-hundred degree mark. The water was in exceptional rock-skipping condition, and I was exploding with anticipation to get out and battle the white-waters of the Niangua. In the infinite wisdom of an eight-year-old boy, I could only describe this as perfection.

Carefully maneuvering down the rocks, I approached the canoe. I studied it as a worthy adversary. I had been on float trips every year previous to this one that I can remember. I have canoed this river before, although somehow, it always feels like the first time. The sun gleamed off the canoe; it shines as if proud to be my chariot. I examined the driver’s seat and thought to myself, I can do it. The sound coming out of my mouth was slightly above audible, “Dad, can I drive this time?” He scrutinized the canoe, looked at me, and then back to the canoe. He performed this, what felt to me, a hundred times. “Well, I tell you what. Let’s see how the river runs for a little bit. Why don’t you sit in the middle. If you do well there, and the river is not too quick, we will check you out for a captain’s license.” Well, to me that sounded like a great big, NO! I whined and complained, “Come on Dad, I can do it! Please, please, let me drive.” He thought for a minute, and with incredible patients and only the way a father can teach and honor his son he looked at me and said, “You know, the water deserves respect. There are things that can happen, that can hurt more than just you. As Captain, you have to be responsible for not only yourself, but for everyone else on your boat. I think you can do it, do you?”

I thought about what he said for about half a second, “Yes, I can do it.” He gave me the dad look, “I am serious about this, not only do you have my life in your hands, but your mother’s and brother’s as well.” I tell you what, if that doesn’t make you think twice, I don’t know what will. I thought a little more carefully about it, and decided, “You will be right there with me, right?” He laid his arm on my shoulder, and with a wink he said, “You know I will.”

The river was may be, at its fastest spot, just under a class 1. Although, in my eight-year-old perception, that was the fastest class 5 you could imagine, I think Mom may still have white knuckles from it.

Dad With The Father

That trip was a quarter of a century ago. The memories are as fresh as yesterday. Dad has gone home to be with God. He passed away a few years later, in 1987. I can still close my eyes and be on that float trip with him in the Chevy truck. Bryant, my brother, has the Chevy now. Still to this day, when I get in that truck, it feels like we are on our way back to the river for another float trip.

I still float that river, not for the challenge but for the memories, and there may not be a better river in the world to me. I can still hear his words, and they apply to every aspect of life. It deserves respect, there are things that can happen, that can hurt more than just you. There were more values than driving instructions in his conversation with me. There were values in life that I needed to learn as a man. You need to place others before yourself. Take care of the women in your life. And, most importantly, even though I was in the “drivers” seat, I was not in complete control. There is always something or more accurately Someone in control. That day I thought that my dad could save us if something happened. However, Someone even bigger than him was in control. I may have been in the back steering the boat, but Jesus is always in control.

Article published in The Christian Sportsman Magazine (Fall 2006)

Rock Fever

About six months after I moved to St. Thomas, I heard about a Festival on Tortola in the British Virgin Islands. I did not know it at the time, but God was going to use this opportunity to show His love for me.

People that have lived on an island for any amount of time know you get a condition affectionately known as “rock fever.” This occurs usually six to eight months after living on a piece of land about thirteen miles long by four miles wide, in the middle of the ocean. You start to feel confined, without the ability to escape.

There are a couple of cures for rock fever. You can fly back to the states, or you can island hop. The festival sounded like a good excuse to see a different island and see some local culture.

I stepped off the ferry in Tortola and it was nothing short of magical. I arrived at the “West End” port. Somehow, the water appeared even more majestic than in St. Thomas, less than ten miles away. The sand was a brighter white, the people were warmer, and the atmosphere was more relaxing. Even the people at customs had a comical and unexpected welcoming demeanor. It was truly a fantastic experience.

I procured a taxi and quickly arrived at the hotel. The feeling of Tortola was dramatically different from St. Thomas, which made me second-guess my decision to locate my new home on the latter of the two. Tortola has a well-deserved reputation for being tourist friendly. The island offers low crime rates, service that is second-to-none and vistas that artist of the world salivate at capturing.

I ventured out from my hotel room and got directions from the concierge to the festival, which was not more than a couple of blocks away. I immediately fell in love. A shanty built of recycled two by fours, and some scrap sheet metal formed the walls and sand provided a floor. Natives and tourists mingled together and seemed to have been friends for the entire lives. Live calypso music added the perfect ambiance. I thought, “This is the reason I moved to the Caribbean.”

I awoke the next morning and strolled out to the beach attached to the hotel. The sand slithered through my toes, and I had to remind myself that I was awake. The warm Caribbean water lazily lapped onto the shore and slipped away reflecting an indescribable blue, rivaled only by the cloudless sky.

Unfortunately, my dreamlike world shattered abruptly as I arrived back at the ferry dock. They had changed their schedule from what was printed on the ticket, and I missed the last ferry for the day and another ferry would not be available until the next day.

There was good news. Another ferry company still had one trip remaining to St. Thomas. There was also bad news. Knowing I was going to be in another country and in an unsure environment, I had brought the amount of money I knew I would spend and had my credit card for the hotel; the ferry company did not take credit cards. I could not go back to the hotel and stay another night; my temporary visa to stay in the British Virgin Islands was valid for 48 hours only. I was in a bind.

At this point in my life, I had not accepted Jesus as my Savior; however, God still cared about me and was active in my life. “I am the LORD, and there is no other; apart from me there is no God. I will strengthen you, though you have not acknowledged me - Isaiah 45:5 (NIV).” Being the Faithful God He is, He provided a way for me. A representative for the second ferry company offered to give me a ride back to St. Thomas, and they would recoup the costs from the original ferry company. I was amazed.

As a child of God now, when faced with a challenge that seems formidable, I reflect on the “rock fever” experience. I know that God is there to help me through.