The Fields of the Wood

Western Vacation 2010 Day Nine: September 11th

2011-02-20T19:47:00.010-05:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

One day of traveling to go, and that's it for vacation 2010. We got up at 6:00 and hit the road by 7:30. Dad drove us to Tower Junction and up the Lamar Valley to the Northeast Entrance. We heard rumors of a wolf pack (but saw none) and stopped for all those bison on the highway. We spotted some mountain goats on a cliff above the road before the entrance, too.

The highway leaving the park here is very rugged, passing through the Absarokas Range. There were large, snow covered peaks on each side of the road. The geology in the areas of the West like this comes right to the surface- we saw a large shelf on the south side of the highway that ran on an even level on the side of the mountains for miles. We stopped in Cooke City for some gas and food. I bought an egg and ham sandwich which the clerk warned me might be several weeks old. No lie.

From there, we crossed into the Clark Fork of the Yellowstone Valley, a wide ranch canyon with snow covered peaks on either side. This is part of the Chief Joseph scenic highway. This is all cattle range. Near the top of the valley, the Absarokas came together into a rough, stony gorge and then we switched our way back over Dead Indian Pass. There's great views of the canyon and the Absarokas from here. Once at the top, the view goes the other way (to the east), and you can see plains and desert forever. This is the Bighorn Basin, another sage brush badland like we saw south of Jackson.

The foothills on the eastern side are a desert badlands with red, rocky buttes and formations. It levels out pretty quickly though, and was much flatter by the time we made Cody around 10:30am. We rolled through the lower badlands and into Thermopolis, where we ate lunch at the at the world's most Western restaurant.

I took over the driving from here. We could still see the Absarokas to the west, and the Bighorns a great distance to the east. There were many hills and buttes in this area, and the road went quickly into the Wind River canyon of the Clark Fork River. This is a deep, narrow canyon with rocky walls. I understand that there was a rock slide and train crash here a few years ago- you can see some videos of that on the internet. We didn't have any such trouble except for a construction zone at the mouth.

Once we left the canyon, we were out of the badlands. From here the road was flat, straight and desert. I started measuring the longest straight stretches, and in this section I hit 5.1 miles without turning the wheel. There are slow rolling hills in this section, some grass, and pronghorn antelope everywhere. We sped through a few little towns, including some on the Indian Reservations with their obligatory casinos.

At Casper, we picked up I-25 and then really started to make time (as if we were going slow before). The highway follows the North Platte River here, which is probably the most green part of central Wyoming that we saw. We had to stop briefly for a flat tire outside of Casper. Danny had a full size spare though, which kept it from being a real problem.

The rest of the ride through Central Wyoming is just flat prairie. Near Glendo we could see the Laramie Mountains and Laramie Peak in the distance to the west. There are some badlands closer to the river, and in one stretch we saw lovely bluffs over the N. Platte. Away from the river, nothing but grassland and straight stretches. I hit a 7.0 mile straight stretch in here. It's flat as a board closer to Cheyenne, stretching to the horizon in the east. All the way to Ohio, probably. Here though, some hills appear in the west, and the Colorado Rockies are finally visible to the Southwest.

Traffic really picks up once you take I-25 into Colorado, and Danny was driving in this section, for which I'm glad. About ten miles into Colorado we could see large mountains directly to the west, and there were two very prominent peaks to the west at the I-25 exit for Rocky Mountain National Park. Long's Peak perhaps?

And that was it. We made it back to Dan's apartment around 7:30 and got some pizza for dinner. We watched some football, and relaxed from a grueling 12 hour drive. I got to sleep on a couch, then Dad and I were off first thing in the morning from Denver to Philadelphia, and back into Pittsburgh by 7:00pm.

Western Vacation 2010 Day Eight: September 10th

2011-02-20T19:30:00.005-05:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

Since this was our last day in Yellowstone, I visited the gift shop first thing in the morning for some souvenirs and presents. Danny wanted to get up early and do a mountain hike, so as soon as he was up we left. The weather had turned cooler, and there was quite a bit of snow visible on Bunsen Peak from Mammoth.

We picked Mt. Washburn, which we got to through Norris and Canyon. We stopped at Canyon Village for a few supplies, then went over Dunraven Pass to Chittenden Road to the Mount Washburn trailhead.

The big hubbub in the parking area was a grizzly sighting at the bottom of Chittenden Road. We stuck around the cars for a while to see if it was coming up our way, but after thirty minutes decided to move out.

The Mount Washburn trail is wide enough for a car, and gradual enough for a novice hiker. The trail is about 3 miles from here to the ranger station at the top. We saw a few spruce grouse on the way up, and near the very top a very un-shy coyote. We had quite a bit of snow on the way up (maybe an inch or more), some sleet and a steep wind near the top. Snow squalls were obscuring the valleys to the west on the way up, and kept visibility very low on the top. We could tell though that the snow storm was limited to the peaks we were on, and that there was some measure of sunshine in the lowlands near the rivers.

There's an observation cabin at the top, in which a ranger lives part of the year to watch for fires. He was home when we arrived, but didn't spend any time with us. We ate our lunchs and watched the snow blow around. For all the squalling, we could have been on Everest. Couldn't see much.

We went down the same way, much faster. We finally saw the grizzly we had heard about, as it crossed the highway thousands of feet below. Of course, we saw the traffic jam first, and then Dad was lucky enough to see the bear step out of the woods and across the road.

We made it back to the car around 2:30, then Dad and I gathered up the fishing gear for our last attempt at catching the big one (or anything at all, actually). We stopped at Park's Fly Shop in Gardiner to get some gear (and tips), and then fished on the Lower Gardner below Chinaman's Garden where we had fished previously. This section of the river is VERY fast and steep and hard to work. There were few pools to fish, but the man at the fly shop thought we might have better success in a less-frequented stretch of river. I suppose that was true, as I caught two fingerling rainbows on Wooly Hare's Ear nymphs we got at the shop (about a size 10 monster). Dad didn't catch anything, but did get a couple of small strikes. I saw four antelope come down to the water and ford it. They hardly slowed down in water I could not have walked through.

Then about six, Dad and I left for the Lamar Valley to do some animal watching. We wanted to go back to Hayden but didn't have time. We watched the wolf den we saw earlier in the week with a group of people, and saw two pups through the scope. And we saw bison; hundreds of bison. They're all over the Lamar Valley, more so than any other part of the park.

Western Vacation 2010 Day Seven: September 9th

2011-02-20T19:17:00.009-05:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

Dad and I tried fishing early again, this time on the Upper Gardner River, near the confluence of Indian Creek. Absolutely nothing would bite. There were no signs of fish anywhere. The water was cold and flowing hard, although we were able to find some nice still pools in this section, unlike the China Garden section we fished earlier. There was a thick fog in the highlands early in the morning, but the sun burned it off around 10:00 to reveal the peaks easily visible from this area. A single bison crossed the creek near us early in the morning, but we saw no other wildlife.

Once back at the cabin, we decided that today was the day we wanted to see Montana. The weather forecast showed some rain coming, so we all packed in the Liberty to head north. Dad drove us north on 89 to Livingston, through Paradise Valley. That valley is edged by the snow-covered Absarokas on the east and the Gallatins on the west. We had good sunshine for this portion of the ride.

We ate in Livingston, then turned west on I-90 towards Bozeman and Butte. We passed through the Bozeman and Three Forks valleys, which is some of the most sublime country we saw on the trip. Three Forks is the confluence of the Gallatin, Madison and Jefferson Rivers, which form the Missouri River- Lewis and Clark country. The mountains are tall but far apart, with lovely level valleys and rivers in the middle.

There's a small mountain range west of Three Forks and east of the Continental Divide, which is above Butte, with plains in between the ranges. It was in those plains that we hit the rain for the first time. It rained hard for most of the rest of the day, probably back in Yellowstone as well. The weather wasn't much of a problem as we crossed the Divide though, a pass which is only at 6300'. The fog kind of ruined the scenery though. We saw strange rock formations all over the hills leading up to the pass, a feature that I remembered from my first trip here.

We got off I-90 in Butte, and stopped at the Visitor Center. From there, we saw the Berkeley Pit Mine, an abandoned copper mine 1800' deep which is now filled with 1000' of water (and filling). Then we saw the World Museum of Mining on the other side of town (past Montana Tech). They have an interesting mineral room, equipment exhibits, and a unique multi-instrument player piano. We skipped most of the exhibits as they were outdoors, in the rain. Dad told us some interesting facts about the equipment we were able to see.

I drove us home on the same route we took out. We stopped at Buffalo Wild Wings in Bozeman, where we got to see the first quarter of the first NFL game of the season - the New Orleans Saints and the Minnesota Vikings. It wasn't much of a game. The restaurant and town were pretty nice though. The rest of the trip was in the dark, in a tapering rain. We listened to Danny's Bill Cosby CDs, which were pretty funny.

Western Vacation 2010 Day Six: September 8

2010-12-11T19:56:00.010-05:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

Dad and I started the day by fishing in the Lower Gardner at the "Chinaman's Garden". The fishing was absolutely dead until the sun made it up into the canyon, when I caught a 4" brown, a 5" brown, and a 6" rainbow, all on nymphs (mostly pheasant tails). Dad didn't catch anything. We saw some deer at the water's edge.

We all walked the boardwalks at Mammoth Hot Springs and heard the ranger's talk called the "Tales of the Travertine". The terraces, pools, cones and flowing water are the highlights.

We ate our lunch in the car and drove to Norris Junction, then Madison and on to West Thumb. Along the way, we stopped at Roaring Mountain, and listened. It does indeed roar, or at least murmur.

Then we stopped at the Norris Geyser Basin, our first trip through the thermal features. There are many pools, steam vents, inactive geysers, and boiling springs. Some vents roar. Some are green or blue. Some have so much steam you cannot see the water. We saw the inactive Steamboat Geyser.

Next stop was at the Artist Paint Pots. There was a hike involved which Danny did not make, and it started to rain during. There wasn't much to see here, except some gorgeous western thunderheads.

To the Lower Geyser Basin- here we saw our first geysers. The big one was the Fountain Geyser, which looked like four different geysers all going at once (and all going continuously). We saw a big roaring steam vent that was created by an earthquake in 1959. And we saw the Fountain Paint Pots.

Next up is the Midway Geyser Basin. We came for the main features, which are the Excelsior Geyser Crater and the Grand Prismatic Spring. We could see the hole around Excelsior (probably 4 feet deep), but there was too much steam to appreciate either feature. The Firehole River goes right through this thermal area, and there was a fisherman fishing unsuccessfully in the hot water near the bridge.

We stopped at Old Faithful to buy some souvenirs, then went on through West Thumb east along the lake. We ate at a very good cafeteria at Lake Village.

To get back to camp, we went north through the Hayden Valley, and it was all it's cracked up to be. We saw a field full of elk and bison. In the next field we saw several wolves through someone's spotting scope. And then in the next field we saw a mother grizzly with three cubs, our first of the trip. Distance to the bears was probably 600 yards.

We made a stop at Canyon Village so Dad could buy some new shoes. Then I drove us back to Mammoth via Dunraven Pass and Tower Junction. That's a long road in the dark. We saw some lightning in the far distance.

Western Vacation 2010 Day Five: September 7

2010-11-28T14:21:00.010-05:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

We set off to the east from Mammoth, through Tower Junction and up into the Lamar Valley. Along the way we saw many bison and a single coyote who crossed the road very near our car.

Then we saw a traffic jam caused by many people watching a wolf feed on a carcass in the Lamar River. Several coyotes appeared and started calling (howls and barks), and before ten minutes passed at least three more coyotes appeared. They made an attempt to run the black wolf off but another gray wolf appeared on the bank and the coyotes dispersed. We went up a bit further and saw a bear-jam, but saw no sign of the animal. The ranger said it could be all day.

Somewhere during this time we stopped to see the Petrified Tree. We ate our lunch at Tower Falls, just past the Hanging Cliff. Out of Tower Junction we headed south towards Canyon Junction. This road crosses the Dunraven Pass near Dunraven Peak and Mount Washburn, the highest road in the park.

At Canyon, we first walked the trail down to the brink of the Lower Falls. From this trail we got our only glimpse of the Upper Falls.

Next we walked out to Inspiration Point. You cannot see the falls from here, but the view of the canyon is truly inspiring. The point itself is a precarious looking rock hanging out from the edge. Finally we went to Artist Point, which is the most famous spot for viewing the Lower Falls.

Next we took the trail to Cascade Lake to check out the fishing. There was no chance of catching anything there with my rod, so we all hiked the trail to Observation Peak.

The hike to the peak was about 3 miles of uphill, to around 10,000 ft. From the top we could see the Tetons, the Absarokas in the east, the Gallatins in the northwest, the Boiling Spring, and a bit of the canyon. There's much fire damage to see in the area. Round trip on this hike was about 10 miles. That would prove to be the most difficult hike we would make.

We were unable to eat at Canyon, so we drove back to Mammoth via the Norris Junction and ate at the cafeteria.

Western Vacation 2010 Day Four: September 6

2010-11-28T14:08:00.010-05:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

This morning we took a float trip on the Snake River with the Triangle X Ranch. They do a good job in coordinating the trip and providing the gear and a knowledgeable guide. Except for a small cloud which covered the peak of Grand Teton itself, we had perfect cool weather. This bald eagle was the only animal we saw though. We met folks from Virginia and Carlisle, PA on the raft.

Now after we ate our leftover lunch in Jackson Hole, it was time to head north to Yellowstone. It takes a long time to get around GTNP when you leave from Jackson - the lake is long. Once you get past the lake, you start to climb up to the divide which runs through southern Yellowstone.

In southern Yellowstone, we saw vast pine forests damaged by the great fires of a few years ago. There's a large gorge right next to the road on the way in (Snake River), and a waterfall coming out of Lewis Lake. The lakes in Yellowstone are very large. We also saw the first of many bison grazing in the woods and fields.

We took the Grand Loop Road to the west at West Thumb (on the big lake), and stopped at Old Faithful. We saw an eruption about 10 minutes after we arrived.

The rest of the day we drove north on the Grand Loop Road from Old Faithful to Madison Junction, then Norris Junction, then finally to Mammoth, where we stayed. Most of the thermal areas in the park are along this stretch, visible from the highway. They look like Pennsylvania strippings with steam rising from them. The Firehole River parallels the road through some of this stretch too, and many people were fishing there.

After dinner at the fast-food restaurant in Mammoth, Dad and I tried fishing in the Lower Gardner River below Mammoth, but didn't have any luck. We did see some deer there though. This let us cross the border into Montana for the first time on the trip, as well.

We stayed in a rustic one-room cabin for the rest of our time in Yellowstone. It was small, but comfortable (once we got the heater working), and the public bathrooms were right behind our unit. There's a rather sizable village in Mammoth with several restaurants, the large Hotel, a post office, and many other buildings. The elk are pretty tame, and lay around throughout the day in the public areas.

We could hear the elk through the night bugling in the hills. Quite an eerie sound. I took a walk in those hills after dark, just to stretch my legs.

Western Vacation 2010 Day Three: September 5

2010-11-25T20:42:00.010-05:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

Our first stop in the morning was at the Jackson Whole Grocer. Their deli made some very good sandwiches.

We drove north out of Jackson Hole into Grand Teton National Park. This drive is perfectly designed- you cannot see the Tetons until you come around the northern edge of the Western Gros Ventre Butte. Once you do, you can see them in all their glory. This is the only place I have ever seen that brought tears to my eyes by its striking beauty.

There is a park road that parallels 191 and the Snake River, at which point you must pay the joint park access fee of $25. Along this route, we stopped and took pictures and saw a large herd of elk. We stopped at the Colter Bay on Jackson Lake.

After our lunch we did a hike from Jackson Lodge on the Lakeside Trail. It was very windy and cold- so much so that the boats stayed off the water.

Next we did our first mountain hike - up the road climbing Signal Mountain. This is a paved road, so many cars were taking passengers to the top. We saw deer, elk, and even a black bear in a tree. There are a few places here where the mountains peek through the cover too. Of course, there is a great view of the mountains from the top. We took a woods trail back down and saw another deer.

After dinner at Signal Mountain Lodge, we drove south on the park road with stops at Jenny Lake and the Lupine Meadow Trailhead. There were many more elk in this area. The Trailhead was the closest we came to the base of the Tetons.

And then just at dark we saw two bull moose feeding at the Snake River. Cross another new animal off the list!

Western Vacation 2010 Day Two: September 4

2010-10-02T21:19:00.011-04:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

Before we hit the road from Glenwood, we made a stop at the Glenwood Walmart for some supplies. We did take the time to take some mountain pictures in the beautiful morning light. We saw a good bit of town, and Dad had some good stories about the area from past trips he'd taken. Then he drove us out of town to the west on I-70.

It seems like the Glenwood Canyon marks the edge of the most massive of the Rocky Mountains. The mountains west of Glenwood are more spread out, and show more features of the Great Basin Desert (like sagebrush, mostly). The road continues to follow the Colorado River (which has its headwaters, by the way, in Rocky Mountain National Park).

We turned north off the interstate in the town of Rifle (Dad liked the name). We went north on CO 13, up to Meeker. This road started out in a dry, rocky desert area with many buttes and formations, but as we approached Meeker we climbed in elevation and entered a greener cattle range. In Meeker we turned west on CO 64. We passed (and stopped at) the Rangely Reservoir, and had a pleasant chat with a local who told us about the local wildlife. This area is hilly desert country once again. Then we picked up US 40 at Dinosaur and took that west towards Utah. This road is high desert, and starts to flatten out. A large, rocky reef parallels this road to the north all the way into Utah (the edge of the Yampa Plateau), and large mountains were visible to the north west. Behind that ridge is Dinosaur National Monument. We didn't stop this time.

Our lunch stop was in Vernal, UT. For someone from Pennsylvania, Vernal doesn't quite live up to its name, but the Green River coming through town does make it much greener than the surrounding desert. Vernal is a big town, definitely the biggest we saw all day until we got to Jackson.

I took over the drive from Vernal, and we went north on US 191. We climbed immediately, passing through a large reef in the Utah badlands, then switching back as we climbed the foothills of the Uinta Mountains. As the road climbs, it passes from the Utah desert to a greener mountain forest. We stopped close to the edge of this, to view the desert from an overlook with some information about local phosphorous mining.

191 passes through the Uintas before arriving in Wyoming, and this area is high, green and rugged. We saw quite a few campers in the thick lodgepole forests, and some cattle as well.

We turned left on UT 44, to see the west side of the Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area, and were glad we did. There's many switchbacks coming down from the Uintas to the gorge, and a nice overlook along the way, from which we took this picture. Off in the far distance we could see Flattop Mountain, and many other buttes and peaks in the Wyoming desert. The Gorge itself is a large lake, full of speedboats and fishermen. Actually, you see quite a few lakes in the west full of speedboats.

Once we dropped into the Gorge and started along the river, the terrain flattened out and continued to do so as we went north. We passed a few farms near the Green River, near the town on Manila. Once we passed through there, we paralleled the river on UT 530 to the north. There's nothing but sagebrush, grass, and rocks through here. The speed limit goes up to 70 (on a two-lane road), and there's no reason why you couldn't do 90. There are buttes and formations on the west side of the road here, and the gorge/lake are off to the distance in the east. We saw our first antelope in this section, and found something on the map called the Greater Green River Intergalactic Spaceport. No sign of any spaceships though.

We stopped in Green River, where I-80 passes through, and took the interstate west several exits. The speed limit is 75 here. Then we turned north on UT 372, to US 189. This is a fun stretch of road; it's absolutely barren. The rock formations are gone here, and there is nothing but a flat, desolate plain of sagebrush. You can see the signs of mining off in the distance, and gas and oil wells throughout. We did 80 mph this whole stretch, and you hardly even notice thanks to the openness.

Once we got about to the town of La Barge though, we started to see mountains both to the west and east. There were quite a few large, snowcapped peaks to the northeast, part of the Wind River Range. The distances were probably a hundred miles to each, but that range and the Wyoming Range on the west meet in the north, between La Barge and Jackson. Once we passed the Fontenelle Reservoir, we started to notice some badlands as the ground gained elevation.

We made a few neat sightings in this section. First, a large wildfire was burning on the back of one of the mountains to the west, and the smoke was noticeable even in the valley we were passing through, thirty miles away. Further north yet, a large thunderstorm was blowing up over the Wyomings. We managed to escape with just a few raindrops, but it was fun to see the cumulonimbus and lightnings on the wide open prairie.

We hit US 191 in the town of Daniel, then crossed the headwaters of the Green River and crossed a continental divide into the Snake River basin. This was a gentle desert pass, with mountains closing to the east and west. As they did, the terrain got greener and greener. Finally we were squeezed into the Hoback River canyon as it dropped towards Jackson Hole. This is quite a tight, high canyon - very scenic.

around.

Once you pop out of the Hoback, you're in Jackson. Or at least its suburbs. Yes, Jackson has suburbs, mostly ranches surrounding Grand Teton park. The Hoback River joins the Snake south of Jackson, and although it's not part of the Hole (nor nearly as wide), the valley here is flat, wooded and lovely. You don't have to go too far north here until you're into two lane highway, with businesses all

The best part of coming in this way though, is that the Teton Range is entirely hidden the hole time, due to East Gros Ventre butte just to the west of town. In downtown Jackson, we could see the top of Grand Teton itself for just a minute, but we never saw the range at all this day. And instead of going to look, we found our hotel (the El Rancho), ate at the Silver Dollar steakhouse, and called it a night. Quite a day of driving!

Western Vacation 2010 Day One: September 3

2010-10-02T21:18:00.008-04:00

This is the log of my western vacation in September 2010. Some of my own photographs are included and some from Wikipedia.

For stage one, my father and I flew Southwest Airlines from Pittsburgh to Denver, CO, with a layover in Orlando, FL. On the way south, we could see the edge of Hurricane Earl from the jet. Going west, we passed over the Gulf of Mexico, and the presence of oil from the Deepwater Horizon spill was easily discernible in spots even at 30,000 ft. The water had the mottled appearance of a puddle in a parking lot.

My brother Danny picked us up at the Denver airport, and we stopped back at his apartment to gather his stuff. Then about 6:00PM, we hit the highway for the first stage of the drive. Dan wanted to travel west on I-70 so we could see a bit of north-eastern Utah. I drove us from his apartment, north on 470 to I-70, then west through the mountains.

What a fantastic stretch of road this is! We took it slow for the first twenty miles or so, as there was quite a bit of Labor Day Weekend traffic on the highway, but that cleared out somewhere near the Idaho Springs exit. It was full speed ahead for the climb to the Eisenhower Tunnel, and then more than full speed ahead down the other side. The Eisenhower Tunnel crosses the Continental Divide (separating the Missouri/Mississippi Rivers drainage from the Pacific Ocean drainage of the Colorado River) at over 11,000 feet elevation, which is the highest point in the U.S. Interstate system. Dan's Jeep Liberty had a few acceleration issues at 10,000 ft. and above, and a little jitter as I was standing on the brakes coming down from the pass.

I-70 is a great reintroduction to the West when you've been away for a while. We entered the interstate right near the Dakota Hogback ridge, then went up and down mountains right away. We saw one that still had snow on top- we could see that peak from the plane as well. It takes a few miles to start to see mountains with a discernible treeline, but it's not long until the highway itself is close to that treeline. On the eastern side of the divide, the highway follows Clear Creek which is occasionally visible from the highway, and then picks up the Colorado River on the west. There's one tunnel on the highway between Denver and the Divide, as well.

Past the Divide, we leveled out at the towns of Dillon and Frisco, which sit on the Dillon Reservoir, surrounded by Rocky Mountains. Next up was the climb to the Vail pass and the ski town of Vail, which seems busy any time of year. The highway runs right through town and past the slopes, which are to the south of the highway.

The mountains continued right up to the entrance of the Glenwood Canyon. This is one of the most spectacular parts on I-70, but we got there a bit past dusk, a little too late to fully enjoy it. Nevertheless, it's quite breathtaking. The highway hugs the northern side of the canyon, and travels through several tunnels. There are a number of places in here where the lanes are built overtop of each other, in order to minimize the construction damage to the canyon. There's railroad tracks on the other side of the river, which go through some tunnels as well.

At the bottom of the canyon is Glenwood Springs, where we spent the night. We ate at the Glenwood Brewery, and Dan reported that the beer was very good. Then we spent the night at the Glenwood Motor Lodge.

Give Unto the LORD

2010-07-18T15:59:00.005-04:00

Last night Curwensville experienced the most violent electrical storm I can remember in my life. From out in the Quehanna Wild Area, I took these photos of the thunderhead as it approached.

Give unto the LORD O ye mighty,

Give unto the LORD glory and strength.

Give unto the LORD the glory due unto His name;

Worship the LORD in the beauty of holiness.

The voice of the LORD is upon many waters;

The God of glory thundereth;

The LORD is upon many waters.

The voice of the LORD is powerful;

The voice of the LORD is full of majesty.

The voice of the LORD breaketh the cedars of Lebanon;

Yea, the LORD breaketh the cedars of Lebanon.

He maketh them also to skip like a calf;

Lebanon and Sirion like a young unicorn.

The voice of the LORD divideth the flames of fire;

The voice of the LORD shaketh the wilderness;

The LORD shaketh the wilderness of Kadesh.

The voice of the LORD maketh the hinds to calve,

And discovereth the forests,

And in His temple doth everyone speak of His glory.

The LORD sitteth upon the flood;

The LORD sitteth king forever.

The LORD will give strength unto His people;

The LORD will bless His people with peace.

Psalm 29

Living it Out

2009-10-11T21:24:00.001-04:00

For our appeal does not spring from error or impurity or any attempt to deceive, but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts. For we never came with words of flattery, as you know, nor with a pretext for greed— God is witness. Nor did we seek glory from people, whether from you or from others, though we could have made demands as apostles of Christ. - I Thess. 2:3-6

Many times, I have heard Christians talk about the need to "live the Gospel", as opposed to just preaching it. Sometimes I think that's a hollow cliche, but I think this passage shows us what it means to "live the Gospel", or "preach the Gospel without actions".

The summary: make sure your ministry is free from a desire for glory and riches. Make the approval of God your prize, not the approval of man or their money. That's how to preach the Gospel with your life.

The Silver Creek Flood 2009

2009-09-26T20:26:00.006-04:00

Here are some pictures of Silver Creek after the flood of August 9, 2009.

This is the "beach" near Hoover Falls - the spot where many children have thrown 1000's of stones over the years. All of the smaller rocks have been covered with bigger chunks of shale.

Here is Hoover Falls. Not much changed in the Falls, but notice how the soil has been ripped away on the bank.

This is spot where the local teenagers used to party. Some of the myrtle is still there. Some of the brush has been cleared away already here.

This big rock used to be about 100 feet upstream near the beach. There are also several places along the cliff where rockslides came down.

One of the best things from the flood- we got a nice pile of sand and gravel. Gary has already been into this for the barn-walk project.

This is Cushman Falls (downstream, around the bend). Notice how about a foot of rock has been broken away in the channel at the top.

The swimming hole at the bottom of Cushman Falls. This is a lot longer and deeper than it used to be.

This is the view upstream from below Cushman Falls. This must be all the rock that broke out of the falls and was removed from the swimming hole.

The view further downstream. More rubble all through this area.

I took this picture with the four-wheeler to try and give an estimate on how deep the water must have been. I estimated about 12 feet here- Gary and some others thought it was closer to 16. The water came to where the tree roots are exposed.

Les Jours Tristes

2009-09-14T19:49:00.000-04:00

A magnificent piece.

Hated Since Conception

2009-09-05T10:12:00.005-04:00

So I found a video that made me cry. Meet Gianna Jessen:

Part Two

Please watch this all the way through, and ask yourself whether you have been desensitized by lies about the weakest among us.

Supercell

2009-08-11T20:12:00.008-04:00

According to a National Weather Service report, a supercell thunderstorm spawned a tornado near the town of Tyler in Clearfield County on Sunday afternoon (8/9/2009). I was blessed to get a good glimpse of the storm without being near enough for trouble. Here's my picture:

I admit, this is a rather poor image. Light conditions were not very good, although it was only partly cloudy in Curwensville when I took it. The wedge shape in the sky on the left is pale blue sky. But the image is good enough to explain a few things about the storm.

To the right is the body of the storm, called a supercell thunderstorm. Any thunderstorm is caused by warm, moist air rising high into the atmosphere because of heating. As it rises, the water vapor in the air condenses and becomes clouds and rain. Sometimes the wind and rising forces are very strong, causing a strong swirling vortex to form in the middle of the storm. These storms are called supercells.

In this photo, you can see the main channel of air on the right half of the sky. These clouds are made of water that is condensing around the vortex. The friction and forces in here made a great deal of lightning. At the top of the picture, you can see what is called the "anvil" of the storm. This is where the uplifted air gets so high that it enters a cold thin part of the atmosphere where strong winds blow it out in all directions. This is somewhere between 35,000 and 50,000 feet.

Now here is the radar image from the National Center for Atmospheric Research:

This picture shows conditions about the time of the tornado. The tornado occurred in the red part directly above the letters FIG, which is Clearfield-Lawrence Airport. The storm front came through Pennsylvania from the northwest. As it approached Clearfield County, the storms were aligned along a single front, almost a straight line. You can see part of the line in the upper right-hand corner of the photo.

Notice how the portion of the storm that spawned the tornado has fallen behind the main line. If you are familiar with the geography, you will notice that it has stalled over Bennett's Valley between Weedville and Penfield along State Route 255. This is a very deep valley with Boone Mountain on the northwest and Penfield Mountain to the southeast. Apparently when the storm came directly across the valley, the face of Penfield Mountain caused the storm to stall and the winds to start spinning up to a great elevation, which eventually led to the tornado.

This is not the first time that Penfield Mountain has caused Parker Dam State Park to suffer tornadoes. The same thing happened on May 31, 1985, and you can still see the damage to this day.

Faith

2009-08-09T20:19:00.003-04:00

Have you ever heard someone point out that faith is not just a religious idea, but that all living requires faith? Like how it takes faith to get on an airplane, faith to believe that what you're eating isn't poison, etc. John Calvin pointed something very interesting out in his Institutes about this that I want to share with you.

In Book II, Section 1.4, he pointed out that Adam's sin in the garden was an act of faith. When the devil came to Adam and told him that God was lying, and that he would not surely die if he ate, Adam had faith in the devil and believed him. He ate out of faith in the devil's word. God had told him something different, but Adam chose to believe the devil.

If your faith is not in Jesus, you are still acting out of faith. Jesus has said that His burden is light, that His commandments are good, and that He will forgive you and give you eternal life if you come to Him. If you have not done that, what sorts of things are you believing about Him? Who are you believing about him?

The Great GRPC Camping Excursion

2009-08-09T18:46:00.007-04:00

Here's a few photos from the great GRPC camping excursion of 2009 at Sinnemahoning State Park.

This is George B. Stevenson Lake at Sinnemahoning State Park on the First Fork of the Sinnemahoning Creek. If you look closely, you can see the Winklers and Udes waiting for me while I took pictures from the wrong meeting place.

Before we made camp, we went up to Mason Hill, a PGC clear cut on the top of the mountain. Our vehicles made the top of the narrow mountain pass with only a small amount of steam and smoke. This is the view over Driftwood to the east.

Here's the first of many educational opportunities we took advantage of during the weekend. This is Kevin Ude teaching the art of shooting clovers. His students displayed remarkable aptitude.

We did hot dogs and veggies on the fire for dinner. Very tasty.

Pastor Charles talked about his mountain pies for about two hours prior to obtaining one. His comment here: "I would really like to share, but its MINE".

Here's Don Kark putting the "C" in the PCA.

A fine looking pot of tea for breakfast. Alice made it after giving us coffee to "put hair on our chests".

It was really a fine weekend- gorgeous weather and great times. We're already planning on it again next year!

Loved the Soil

2009-07-30T20:36:00.001-04:00

Nothing to say about this verse, except that I find it remarkable that such a description is recorded in the Bible. I love the soil too.

And [Uzziah] built towers in the wilderness and cut out many cisterns, for he had large herds, both in the Shephelah and in the plain, and he had farmers and vinedressers in the hills and in the fertile lands, for he loved the soil. - II Chron. 26:10

The Curtain Torn

2009-07-30T20:20:00.003-04:00

And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many. When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, "Truly this was the Son of God!" - Matthew 27:50-54

In the Old Testament Temple, there was a veil that kept everyone out of the Holy of Holies, the most secret and holy place of God. When the Lord Jesus died, that veil was broken. It would not be long before the whole Temple would be destroyed, but Matthew is making an important point, for now all the people could go into the most Holy place and worship the Living God through Jesus. The Roman centurion could not have seen or known God in old times, but now He can know Jesus.

There something about what the centurion said that is very interesting. Now that the veil is torn I think Christians can see something clearly that used to be blurry. It is the mysterious understanding of God Christians call the Trinity. For even though Jesus was dead (at that point), the centurion could see that He was the Son of God.

The Trinity is very mysterious, so I will not say anything to explain it, except to say that it means that there is One God who made heaven and earth, and only One. And He exists forever in Three Persons who love and serve One Another. They are all of the same essence, which means that they are all fully God. And They are also distinct from One another.

That is something that Jesus' death on the cross reveals to us, and which we can look at and ponder about for thousands of years.

Psalm 127 and Chronicles Part II

2009-07-27T12:19:00.009-04:00

Last week I made this post, in which I suggested how Psalm 127 could provide an outline of I and II Chronicles. At the bottom I asked this question:

Chronicles is clearly linked to the Restoration, and the Songs of Ascents possibly so. What other connections between Chronicles and the Songs exist? Psalm 132 is an easy one.

If Psalm 127:1-2 provides the outline for I Chronicles, it also provides the outline for Ezra-Nehemiah. I Chronicles is all about 1) organizing the people and material for Temple-building (Except Yahweh build the house...) and 2) organizing the people for Temple-guarding (Except Yahweh keep the city...).

I don't know why I didn't immediately make the next connection. Ezra is about Temple building, and Nehemiah is about wall building. The only thing missing in Ezra-Nehemiah is Sons.

The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the Son of David... - Matthew 1:1

The Search

2009-07-24T12:25:00.007-04:00

Are you searching for Truth? Maybe you are not a member of a particular religion, but are looking for answers to life's questions. I want to point out something about this search that many people are doing.

I think it is good to search, but one problem for many modern searchers is that they really are not searching. They are just imagining things that might be true. They are asking themselves "If this thing I just thought of were True, would I like it?". They are not looking any farther than what's already in their heads. That's not searching.

Think about the problems with imagining. Could you imagine something you wished for twenty years ago, but would hate for it to be True now? If you imagined Truth in your own head, you would be limiting any future growth in your life! Can you think of something you wished would be true, but another part of you knows that wouldn't be good? How can you trust yourself to pick what's really True out of all the options?

So if you're looking for Truth, you have to get out and search. When you find the Truth about Life, it's got to come completely from outside of you. Someone has to say "This is the Truth about Life", and you'll need to accept as it is. In some ways you will resist it, because it will decide some of your conflicts in a way you wish it wouldn't. In some ways it will perplex you, because it will describe parts of the world that you haven't grown into yet. And in some ways you will love it because it is the Truth about Life that you have been looking for.

Furthermore, when you find someone who has the Truth, they will need to point out where they got it. They will be human too, with all the same limitations as you. They will have to point out how they arrived at the Truth. Maybe you can trace it back to the Truth itself.

And last, don't settle for a counterfeit. The first thing you will discover is that there are competing Truths. But one minute of logical thinking will let you realize that if the Truth comes from outside of us, then one of the Truths is really Truth, and the others are fake. They will come into conflict with each other, and you will need to sift through the impostors. There are many red-herrings out there. This search you have undertaken is not an easy thing!

So if you're searching, get out and search! Read every book in the library. Ask everybody you know, and really listen. Dig through lost tombs like Indiana Jones. Weigh the results and turn away from traps. But don't just imagine. The Truth is out there!

And if you're really searching, honestly, the answers may be very near to you. In fact, they are as close as this. God bless.

They Like Jesus

2009-07-20T12:22:00.006-04:00

These are a list of chapter titles from Dan Kimball's book They Like Jesus But Not the Church, which I heard mentioned in a worship service recently. His book is about impressions that non-Christians have regarding American Christians, and is written to help us to correct problems so that we can have a better image in the world.

1. The church is an organized religion with a political agenda.

2. The church is judgmental and negative.

3. The church is dominated by males and oppresses females.

4. The church is homophobic.

5. The church arrogantly claims all other religions are wrong.

6. The church is full of fundamentalists who take the whole Bible literally.

Please pay attention to these six statements. Each one of them is a lie that the world tells about Christians in order to produce false guilt, with the goal of getting us to compromise our witness and be unfaithful to God. Every one of them. The goal is to get us to back off from a stand that we have taken in righteousness, witnessing to God's will for His creation, so that the world can go more quickly towards sin, death and destruction.

Can you recognize that these slanders all have to do with the primary fronts-of-attack by the world on the church and God in this age? The world hates the image of God and kills it in the womb at the rate of 40+ million times per year. America is one of the few places on earth where the church is involved politically to carry out a real mercy ministry in attempt to stop it. The world hates the image of Christ and His Church as shown in complementarian heterosexual marriages, and some parts of the American Church are still faithful to testify to God's character in this. The world hates Jesus and does not want to acknowledge that He reaches out to the lost clearly through His Scriptures that there is no other way of salvation.

Christian, do you see that these lies are designed to get you to stop being faithful to Him? Can you see that the world wants the clear teaching of God in His Bible to be silenced? And can you understand that their most potent weapon is to make you feel shame and false guilt before men? To manipulate the deep desire we all have to be liked, applauded, approved?

My question to you then is this- are you willing to wear these lies faithfully with him? Are you willing to be slandered and hated by men as our Lord Jesus was? Just how much do you love the approval and applause of men? Are you willing to rejoice when men speak evil of you, for so they persecuted the prophets that were before you?

It may be that you or your church needs to do better, and that there is a real falling short in one of these areas. In fact it may even be likely. Please wait until God reveals that to you from His Word, and take the course of correction that He reveals to you. But you have to know that in our modern age, His course of correction will still require you being willing to be hated and despised by men for His name's sake. And He will require faithful Christians to fight and die on these fronts.

May God give us ears to hear and hearts of strength.

Psalm 127 and the Chronicles

2009-07-19T17:20:00.005-04:00

While reading through the Chronicles, it has occurred to me that Psalm 127 is a neat summary of the books, both in content and organization. Psalm 127 divides into two sections: vv 1-2 which deal with Yahweh's blessing on building and guarding the "house", and vv 3-4 which deal with the blessing of children. I want to suggest a very basic outline of Chronicles that shows how it is structured in the same way.

The two actions that Yahweh does for His people and their "house" in Psalm 127 are to build it and to guard it. I Chronicles can be divided into three main sections, each of which describe how God has done these things for Israel. Each section focuses first on the organization of people into the "house", then as the organization of people into a "wall". Chapters 1-10 concentrate on the genealogies of Israel. 11 and 12 then deal with numbering David's army.

In the second section, 13-17 talk about David's temple building, first bringing the Ark into its tent, then his plan to build God's "house". I keep putting "house" in quotation marks, because in this passage we learn that the "house" God is building is a house of kingly sons. 18-20 then deal with God's guarding of David's house by putting down his enemies in battle.

After David's sin in 21, the third section begins with David's purchase of the threshing floor of Ornan, which will become the site of the actual Temple. 22-25 deal with David's organization of the people for Temple worship (especially the Levites), then 26-27 once again deal with his gatekeepers and armies to protect the house. So perhaps you can see the connection there- God lines up the people, seats a King, and sets up worship. Corresponding to that, He gives armies, gatekeepers, and victories in battle to guard the House.

I Chronicles 28 through II Chronicles 7 are the center of the book, featuring David's final preparations to build the house, and culminating in his anointing of Solomon who actually builds and dedicates it. Solomon is the hero who brings to pass what David had prepared for. I will only point out two connections between Solomon and Psalm 127. First, Psalm 127 is ascribed "For Solomon", the only one of the Songs of Ascents to do so. (Not coincidentally, Psalm 127 is the central Psalm in the Songs). Second, "His beloved" in verse 2 is actually Solomon's second name, as II Sam 12:25 tells us.

Moving to the second half of Psalm 127, II Chronicles is concerned with "sons", describing the reign of fifteen sons of David, starting with Solomon and ending with Josiah. (It actually describes several more in chapter 36, but just fleetingly). In the detailed stories of the fifteen, it is remarkable to notice how the Chronicler points out their faithfulness in defending Judah by trusting in the Lord, and fighting against religious corruption through reform. Some highlights include: Jehoshaphat standing against the Moabites and Ammonites through prayer in 20, Joash and Jehoiada defeating wicked Athaliah in 24, Hezekiah turning back Sennacherib through faith in 32, and the great purge of the land by Josiah in 34. Even kings who are described as very wicked in I and II Kings (like Manasseh) are commended for how they build (33:16) and guard God's house (33:14).

So to summarize, Psalm 127 has two sections that line up very neatly with I and II Chronicles. It concentrates first on how Yahweh organizes the building and guarding, then shows how the Sons of David carry that plan out. I have many more thoughts about this, but for future consideration:

Chronicles is clearly linked to the Restoration, and the Songs of Ascents possibly so. What other connections between Chronicles and the Songs exist? Psalm 132 is an easy one.

If Chronicles and the Songs are tied to restoration, that means Psalm 127 is messianic, which could mean that Ezra and Nehemiah saw themselves as doing the work of David in I Chronicles (organizing the people and goods), while they waited for the Son who would fulfill the building. Are there explicit connections that the Gospels make to this effect, possibly referring to Psalm 127, the Songs in general, or the Chronicles?

The central verse of Psalm 127 is that Yahweh "gives to His beloved sleep". This is a very mysterious verse, and could refer both to resting while God builds and guards (first half), or the sleep that results in sons (sleeping with - second half). Does this actually refer to anything in Chronicles? David "sleeps" right at the end of I Chronicles in death. Likewise, Solomon is asleep when God appears to him and gives him wisdom. This might be the more important point.

Lets Go Pens!

2009-06-11T12:13:00.003-04:00

Just in time for Game 7, here are five great Pittsburgh Penguins Stanley Cup Finals moments.

I Am Aglow

2009-03-29T19:19:00.001-04:00

I really am! Sarah Harmer, recommendation of the week:

Norah

2009-01-25T20:40:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted a music video in a long time. Mostly because I haven't been moved like this in a long time.

Sunset

2008-07-20T20:03:00.002-04:00

The Problem

2008-07-20T19:57:00.003-04:00

Do you know what the problem with pop music is? Well, actually there's two: no dobros and no good tenors. Here's the Seldom Scene- eat your hearts out, Coldplay!

Psalm 115 Outline

2008-06-29T18:10:00.006-04:00

This is the Psalm outline from Sunday School, 6/29/2008. This follows the basic pattern outlined here.

Introduction

One of the Hallel Psalms (113-117), called so because of the Hallelujah in the last line. These are read on the Jewish holidays, especially the Passover.

Note for further study: There are (at least) two ways to organize this section of Psalms. First, some Hebrew manuscripts and the Septuagint combine Psalm 114 and 115. If this is the case, each of the Psalms from 113 through 117 end with the Hallelujah line. If Psalm 114 is kept separate, Psalms 111-113 start with the Hallelujah, and 115-117 end with it, forming a chiastic structure with 114 at the middle.

Structural Outline 1 - Section A

Not to us, O LORD, not to us,
But to your name give glory,
For the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness!

Introduction to the poem. This is the only part of the psalm directed to Yahweh.

Section B

Why should the nations say 
"Where is their God?"
Our God is in the heavens, 
He does all that he pleases.

Section C

Their idols are silver and gold, 
The work of human hands.
They have mouths, but do not speak, 
Eyes, but do not see.
They have ears, but do not hear;
Noses, but do not smell.
They have hands, but do not feel;
Feet, but do not walk;
And they do not make a sound in their throat.
Those who make them become like them;
So do all who trust in them.

Structure: seven parallel lines to describe the vanity of idols. Notice that the silence of the idol is first and last on the list.

Section D

O Israel, trust in the LORD!
He is their help and their shield.
O house of Aaron, trust in the LORD!
He is their help and their shield.
You who fear the LORD, trust in the LORD!
He is their help and their shield.

Chiastic center (meaningful center) of the psalm. The point of this psalm is to encourage Yahweh's people to trust in Him.
Three-part structure directs each of the three separate groups present in temple worship. 1) Israelite- covenant people of God 2) House of Aaron- priesthood serving in the temple 3) "You that fear the LORD" - Gentile God-fearers.

Section C'

The LORD has remembered us; he will bless us;
He will bless the house of Israel;
He will bless the house of Aaron;
He will bless those who fear the LORD,
Both the small and the great.
May the LORD give you increase,
You and your children!
May you be blessed by the LORD,
Who made heaven and earth!

Repeats the three groups from section D in reference to something new- Yahweh blessing us.
Structure: possibly seven blessings from Yahweh to balance seven traits of idols in section C (tenuous): 1) Remembered us, 2) bless us, 3) bless house of Israel, 4) bless house of Aaron, 5) bless those that fear Yahweh, 6) bless the small, 7) bless the great.

Section B'

The heavens are the LORD's heavens,
But the earth he has given to the children of man.

Section A'

The dead do not praise the LORD, 
Nor do any who go down into silence.
But we will bless the LORD 
From this time forth and forevermore.
Praise the LORD!

Chiastic Pattern

A & A' - The worship of Yahweh. Yahweh is faithful and good, and will preserve His worshippers forever.
B & B' - Yahweh is in heaven. Temple worship occurs in heaven in Yahweh's presence. No other god is in heaven.
C & C' - Idols do nothing, but Yahweh blesses.
D - Because of these three things, Yahweh's people should trust in Him. Everyone can trust in Yahweh and fear Him and be blessed.

Structural Outline 2

Section 1: vv 1-8 (sections A-C above). This is about the futility of idols and how those who worship them become like them (silent). This section contains 9x7 words.
Section 2:vv 9-16 (sections D-B' above). This is a contrast, teaching us how Yahweh will bless and multiply His people. This section contains 7x7 words.
Section 3: vv 17-18 (section A'). Coda/summary of the two sections above. Idols are dead and so their worshippers live. Yahweh lives, so will His people forever. This section contains 3x7 words.

Occurrences of the Number 7

Seven sections in the chiastic structure.
Seven Hebrew words in the meaningful center - "Their help and their shield is He".
Seven features of the idols.
Number of words in each section according to structure 2.
Seven blessings of Yahweh.

Applications

Yahweh's people have eternal life, so that He may be worshipped.
Trust in Yahweh, because He will glorify Himself.
Trust in Yahweh, because He lives.
Trust in Yahweh because He is in heaven.

Top Ten Sports Memories

2008-06-05T12:12:00.006-04:00

Because of my love for sports and top-ten lists, and because of the recent completion of #10, I have decided to make a top-ten list of the best sporting events I have witnessed in my 29 years of fandom. I picked these games/series because of superstar individual performances, dramatic Disney-movie storylines, and a team (OK, my team) overcoming overwhelming odds. In descending order:

10. Stanley Cup Finals, 2008: Pittsburgh Penguins vs. Detroit Red Wings. This gets on the list because of games 3-6. This stays at the bottom of the list because of games 1-2. Game 5 was especially memorable because of the heroic, out-of-his mind performance of the Pens' goalie and the photo-finish. The Pens felt outgunned in each of the four, but contended valiantly anyway to pick up two wins.

9. Wales Conference Championship, 1994: New York Rangers vs. New Jersey Devils. I'm not sure how I wound up rooting for the hated Rangers in a series- perhaps because of the utter hockey-awesomeness of Mark Messier (or maybe I just hated the Devils more). Anyway, the Rangers were down 3 games to 2 when Messier guaranteed a game 6 win (backing it up with a hat-trick), and then won the series in double overtime in game seven. I don't think I've ever seen anything come down to the wire like that.

8. 2004 PIAA Football Class AAA Championship: Pine Richland Rams vs. Manheim Central Barons. I believe this was the only state-championship football game my alma mater (PR) has attended in my lifetime. Unfortunately, we didn't win it, losing in triple-overtime on a blocked extra point. About a foot of snow fell during the game. But both schools were turnover-free, made highlight catches, converted late-game fourth downs, and generally played out of their minds.

7. 1986 World Series: Boston Red Sox vs. New York Mets. This is on the list because it is my first professional sports memory- the first time I learned how a momentous game could pull you in and then destroy you. The Mets had a lineup full of dark-side-of-the-force stars like Strawberry, Carter, Mookie. The Red Sox looked like they would be able to do what my beloved Pirates could not- beat them and win the World Series. But the Sox had a soon-to-be infamous name of their own: Buckner. He ripped the heart out of Sox fans (and NY haters) everywhere, a memory Sox fans had to wait 18 years to make peace with (see #1).

6. White Out 2005: Penn State Nittany Lions vs. Ohio State Buckeyes. The only non-playoff entry on the list. But it was as good as a playoff game, and made the country take notice that our one-loss record was no fluke. Safety Calvin Lowry picked off a Troy Smith pass to set up a TD in the second quarter, the decisive points in PSU's 17-10 victory. There was something like a combined 100 yards of offense in the second half (only a FG scored), and PSU sealed the game with a third-down sack and forced fumble by mammoth DE Tamba Hali. It was so loud in Beaver Stadium that Steve Jones and Jack Ham had to scream into their headseats for the radio broadcast.

5. Rose Bowl, 2006: Texas Longhorns vs. USC Trojans. The Vince Young game. The Reggie Bush lateral game. The Lendale White goes nuts game. I don't even remember the final score - 40-38? It was two undefeated teams for the national championship, and it was won a fourth-and-five by the unstoppable VY. After having been hyped incessantly for the fourth months prior, this game lived up.

4. Super Bowl XLII, New York Giants vs. New England Patriots. Speaking of hype, has there even been a sporting event analyzed more completely in the run-up? Everybody remembers the first possible 19-0 season, Brady with a cast on his foot, the Giants winning three on the road to make it to the Super Bowl. And then the game featured a stunning defensive struggle save for a wide-open fourth quarter featuring two (and almost three) long come-from-behind drives, and with the highlight of the decade, David Tyree's Helmet Catch. Which, incidentally, was 1000 times more exciting than Joe Buck makes it seem in that clip.

3. Stanley Cup Finals 1992, Pittsburgh Penguins vs. Chicago Blackhawks. The Penguins swept this series, part of an 11 game playoff winning streak that season. But the 'Hawks were definitely a lot tougher opponent than the sweep would make it seem. They led game 1 by three, but the Pens battled back to tie on an amazing Jagr goal, and then took the lead with twelve seconds left on the sports highlight of my childhood. And game 4 was even better. The Pens chased Hawks goalie Ed Belfour in the first period, but ran into their rookie backup (and soon to be superstar) Dominik Hasek. He stood on his head for two periods to keep the Hawks in the chase, stopping Mario and Jagr on breakaways repeatedly. But Ron Francis scored the game winner halfway through the third to seal the Pen's second Cup.

2. AFC Divisional Championship Game 2006, Pittsburgh Steelers vs. Indianapolis Colts. This was the second of four straight wins for the Steelers in Playoffs '06, and definitely the most exciting. The Colts had an undefeated season going into week 14, and were the Super Bowl favorite from the end of the '05 season. But Steelers defensive coordinate Dick LeBeau had some Jedi magic to work on Peyton Manning's offense. The Steelers led by 18 going into the fourth quarter, but some twilight-zone officiating let the Colts pull to within three. And then there was the series that every 'Burgher knows by heart: the huge Porter sack on fourth and twelve, the Fumble (and the Tackle), and Vanderjagt's fateful kick. Just thinking about it makes me want to stand on the couch and scream "NO GOOD!"

1. 2004 ALCS, Boston Red Sox vs. New York Yankees. Seriously, they wouldn't make a movie like this. Take the hated sports empire from New York. Take the 86-year accursed Red Sox. Let them beat on each other for a few years, always with the Empire winning. Let said Empire beat on the Sox again for the first three games and eight innings of this series. Put the toughest closing pitcher in baseball on the mound with a lead in the bottom of the ninth, up three games to none and two outs away from a trip to the World Series. And after the Sox pull it out (somehow), let them do it all again in the bottom of the eighth the next night. Then let a beat-up Boston starter pitch out of his mind to send it to game seven. The last game wasn't that close, because there wasn't any more nail-biting plot twists to use. All in all, the greatest sports playoff series of all time.

Night Birds

2008-05-31T11:41:00.003-04:00

Go out into your yard some night and listen, and you may hear some birds that only come out after dark. One of the most common is the Common Nighthawk (click to hear). This bird flies at dusk and calls frequenly as he feeds on insects. I see and hear it commonly over the downtown areas of towns like Curwensville and Clearfield. In flight, it looks like a brown seagull.

Another bird that will sometimes fly in your neighborhood is the Great Horned Owl. Because of its reclusive habits, you'll be lucky to see this bird, unless you can startle it on its perch during the day. This is the biggest owl you'll find regularly in Pennsylvania, with a wingspan of about five feet. These birds will fly into neighborhoods, over fields, and in the deep forest looking for prey.

You'll have to venture into the woods at night to find the Eastern Screech Owl. This bird makes the spookiest of all nighttime noises. It's a little owl at about 8" high, but makes a big noise. These guys are travellers, moving miles and miles in a single night- you can track their progress across the countryside as the call periodically.

The noisiest of noisy forest birds is the Whippoorwill. These little birds will make their distinctive call for hours on end, sometimes from a single perch. If you happen to camp in one's neighborhood, you may feel like shooing him away after an hour or more of calling! The looks of this bird might explain why they fly at night (well, probably not). But they are one of the ugliest of Pennsylvania birds.

Hope

2008-04-17T12:09:00.008-04:00

What hope is there?

Many people lament the removal of God from our public life. We've all heard about battles over the Ten Commandments, graduation invocations, and creches. Perhaps there's even been a battle in your town, when someone was offended by some mention of God in a public place and took to litigation. Older folks among us feel that their way of life is under assault, that we are in danger of losing our awareness that God is among and watching us. And it's even worse than that- we've declared open war on God.

The easiest place to see this, of course, is in the squabbles over public prayer and the mottoes on coins. But the battle is joined on many more fronts, fronts with much higher stakes. The war is not just over the name of God, but His image as well.

The Bible says that God made men and women at the beginning, and that He put His image in us when He did. And modern men and women want nothing to do with that image. We can see this in how we disfigure ourselves with tattoos and piercings- some people want to look nothing like anything that God would make. Pornographers hate the way God made women's bodies, and so we force our sisters and daughters to starve in the name of beauty. And it's come to actual slaughter where the image of God is perhaps clearest- in our children. We dismember them in the womb, and neglect and abandon those who are lucky enough to escape.

We hate the image of God in us so much that we would kill ourselves to get rid of it. If abortion doesn't make us extinct, low birth rates and inner-city crime might finish the job. We hate the image of a pregnant woman, and have taken our fruitlessness to the utter extreme in gay marriages. Truly the Bible says that those who hate wisdom (and God) love death, and we can't get enough of it. Slow, drug-induced, dark death. It fascinates us.

And I believe there's a reason for our love of death: we hate the image of God because we want to kill Him. We get rid of His name because we hate Him, and we kill ourselves and our children because it's the closest to killing God we can come. If we could, we would kill Him. "Leave me alone", we cry. "I hate you", we tell our Father.

I hope I've made it sound as bleak as possible. Of course it's not all bleak and bad- God's Spirit is still at work in the world. But I've been dire for one reason- because the Light is all that much brighter when it's dark. The good news is so much sweeter when the bad is overwhelming. It is very dark, but there is great light:

We already killed God.

The Bible says that He came once. His name was Jesus. He put on human arms and legs, skin and bones. He walked among us, showing us Himself through mighty works. He cast out demons, healed the sick, read people's minds, and even raised the dead. He taught with power, revealing the depths of people's hearts with shrewd insight while offering mercy and forgiveness to the lowest of the low.

And we responded in the same way that modern men would have us: we put Him to death. We convicted Him in a kangaroo court in which we couldn't even get two liars to agree on false charges. We beat Him publicly, mocking His grace, mercy and authority. We gambled for His clothes and pulled out His beard. We hung Him up naked on a tree to suffocate, nails in each of His hands and feet. And we left Him there until He died, after six hours of agony.

And it was the moment of victory for every secularist, atheist, and scoffing post-modernist that ever lived. Every crooked politician in the history of the world mocked Him- "This is the King of the Jews". Every abortionist took delight in snuffing out that perfect, innocent life-- the One that our infants remind us so much of. Every pornographer stared in glee at His naked body. Every wicked man, every sinner ever among us, had a hand at the hammer, driving the nails in to kill Him forever, finally to be left to ourselves.

Saint Paul described all this in a remarkable way. Hear 1st Corinthians: "If they had known what they were doing, they would not have crucified the Lord of Glory." Indeed.

Because it wasn't just man's wrath and hatred that Jesus bore on the Cross. It was God's, as well. All of God's anger towards our pettiness, our thieveries, our murders, our hatreds and lusts, all of it. God heard our blasphemies and answered them there. He saw the murders we committed in the dark, and He paid them back there. The cries of our slaughtered babies reached Him, and He punished them there, on His Son. The war between God and man reached the pivotal point there on Golgotha, outside of the city. Man took God in His hands to kill Him, and God gave Him over.

I'm laughing as I write this, because it's so good. Do you see? The plot twist is so perfect, so masterfully conceived. Both sides spent all their wrath on Jesus. Wicked men killed Him. God killed Him. The message was snuffed out. His friends and followers were scattered, each to their own home alone. It was so bad that the sun went dark for hours.

And it didn't work. He got up.

I think it's deeply ironic that the first people to see the Resurrection were public servants, paid by the corrupt officials to make sure that Jesus' followers couldn't steal the body and make any claims. Can you imagine? You've got the God you didn't believe in (and hated) killed and laid in the tomb, and now angels are rolling the stone away. And He's coming out in glory. On the third day. There would be no spinning this, no scientific explanations. They did the only thing they could, which is run away and take a bribe to be quiet about it. Those officials knew right away what was happening, and took the last measure available to them- "Make sure no one knows!" Somethings never change, it seems.

But they do change, and they changed that Sunday morning. Everything, and forever. How could wicked men ever get rid of God, if killing Him didn't work? How could corrupt governments use death and torture to enslave- who would be afraid anymore? How could we ever get rid of the image of God, if killing it only purified and brought it back with power? What if God took all our hatred and murder, and used it to save the world? What could the evil do? This is hopelessness- hopelessness for the mission of wicked men. God is here to stay.

And God used it to save the world. For He did not send His son to condemn the world (we tried that ourselves), but to save the world. And He did, and is busy in finishing it. Jesus died with all the world's misery and darkness, and came bursting out of the tomb again. He took it all and laid there, stone dead in the tomb, and still shook it off and came out. The grave couldn't hold Him, and nothing else could either. He was seen by hundreds who spread the news all over the world. And He was taken up to God's hand and given a Kingdom with no end- all the nations of men.

So there's hope. There is no end of hope for those who love God. They can't get rid of God's name, because it comes back. They can't erase His image, because it gets clearer the more they try. And they can't kill Him anymore, because He's already died, and come back again.

There's so much hope.

Boots of Spanish Leather

2008-04-09T12:35:00.001-04:00

Nanci Griffith, from the Transatlantic Sessions Part 2. Featuring Jerry Douglas.

Pennsylvania Waypoints

2008-03-15T19:45:00.002-04:00

Here's a new site containing GPS and Geocache data on a large collection of overlooks, waterfalls and covered bridges. If you have a program like Delorme's Topo USA, you can load up the GPX files to view the whole collection.

Skydiving

2008-03-14T21:23:00.002-04:00

Yeah, that's right. I went skydiving. Check it:

Birds of the Forest

2008-02-20T19:51:00.007-05:00

If you have a bird feeder in your yard, you may have become familiar with some of the common birds of the open habitat, like the Bluejay, the Northern Cardinal and the Robin here in Pennsylvania. These birds can be seen at the feeder all year round and are easily identified by their bright colors and distinct calls.

But some of the most common, colorful and musical birds in Pennsylvania are almost never seen. These are the birds that inhabit the big forests, away from the edges where people live. These birds perch in the large oaks, maples and birches that make up the big woods, hidden high up in the summer foliage. The only way some of these birds can be detected is by their colorful and lyrical songs. This post will describe four common big woods birds, with links to sound files so you can hear what they sound like. Click on the bird name to hear the sound, each courtesy of the USGS.

The first bird is the most colorful bird in Pennsylvania, the Scarlet Tanager. Male Tanagers have the brightest red of any songbird in North America, but the females are pale shade of yellow/green designed to look like any one of the leaves growing in early June. The pattern of their song is very similar to that of the American Robin, with just a touch of raspiness.

The Ovenbird is a ground dweller, but his small frame and plain brown plumage make him difficult to see. Their loud call goes "Teacher, Teacher, Teacher". These birds will build their nests on the ground, so be careful where you step when you're close.

Next is the Wood Thrush. These birds have a distinctive lilting quality to their call. These are plain birds as well, with colors that make them tough to spot. The Robin is a type of thrush, and once you are familiar with the Wood Thrush's song, you can hear the family resemblance.

Finally, there's another type of thrush that makes my favorite call of all: the Veery. This bird has the same musical quality to its voice as the Wood Thrush, but sings in a descending "Whew Whew, Woo Woo" pattern. These move through the forest quickly, never pausing to sing in one place for very long.

A New Law

2008-02-05T20:21:00.000-05:00

I was reading the Law in Exodus today, in chapters 21-23ish. This is my take on what God might have said if Mount Sinai was actually in the middle of Clearfield County in 2008:

If you install a pool at your house, or a lake on your summer property, then you need to build a railing around or it at least watch it so that the neighborhood kids don't fall in and drown.

If you borrow your neighbor's helicopter or yacht and it is stolen, then you must go before the judge and show that you did not steal it. Otherwise you need to pay your neighbor its value plus the time he lost in using it.

When you cash in stock options or any other investment, round down to the nearest ten-thousand so that the poor can have something as well.

Make sure to put a little aside each year for six years, so that you and your family can take the seventh year off from work.

The Dents Run Treasure in the Progress Part II

2008-02-05T20:04:00.001-05:00

This is part II of the Progress' article on the Dents Run Treasure. Original author is Josh Woods, and original run date was Monday, February 4 2008. This is part two of two: part one can be read here. The Progress hosts this article at:

http://www.theprogressnews.com/default.asp?read=11049

Dennis Parada of Clearfield anticipated fame and fortune after believing he, his son and some colleagues had discovered buried treasure, the lost gold of Dents Run, valued in the millions of dollars, in the Elk State Forest area. However, issues with contradictory reports, state law and lots of confusion has left Mr. Parada with a daunting problem: knowing the possible location of the largest treasure find in Pennsylvania's history and not being able to do anything about it.

In the last issue of The Progress, it was explained that Mr. Parada had unearthed several small objects which he turned over to the state Department of Conservation of Natural Resources after he was told to cease all digging at the supposed treasure site. DCNR's Minerals Section then tested those items to determine their authenticity. This is part two of the story.

---

A letter dated June 8, 2005, from Chief of the Minerals Section Ted Borawski to Mrs. Jeanne Wambaugh, district forester, was received by DCNR's District No. 13 office in Emporium and contained disappointing news: The artifacts found by Mr. Parada were "junk."

A copy of the letter was provided to Mr. Parada and obtained by The Progress. The letter states: "There exists no credible evidence, either from materials excavated from the site or from stories long-circulated in the local area or media, to support any conclusions that a lost Federal gold bullion shipment from the Civil War was ever located on state forest lands in the vicinity of Dents Run, Pa., at the location Mr. Parada insists is the resting place of the lost gold cache.

"The materials Mr. Parada excavated and were analyzed by the Pennsylvania Historical Museum staff may be returned to Mr. Parada as they have no cultural or historical significance and have been deemed ‘hunting camp debris' and therefore worthless in the estimation of the Commonwealth experts."

Disappointed by the news, Mr. Parada immediately sought a second opinion of the materials; however, he ran into a roadblock.

Upon contacting the DCNR District No. 13 office, he was told that the materials would not be returned to him, despite the Minerals Section's permission to do so outlined in the letter's excerpt above. Without the artifacts, Mr. Parada cannot send anything away for carbon dating or DNA testing that may help prove his find.

According to Mr. Parada, approximately 18 items were sent to the Minerals Section. A memorandum and analysis from Douglas C. McClearen, chief of the Division of Archaeology and Protection, to Mr. Borawski was attached to the aforementioned letter. The analysis outlines findings for 11 items, though it adds that other "loose items" were submitted, including pieces of an animal trap of an undetermined date, a few metal objects that are not dateable and a corroded nail, which appears to be a "cut nail." Cut nails, it says, originated in the 19th century and were still in use well into the 20th century.

"The final landmark was our main case," said Mr. Parada. "They didn't talk about the final landmark in the report, they didn't do a carbon date on the stones that we found and they didn't say anything about the man-made structures that we found.

"There is a lot of important information that was given about what we found at the final landmark location, but they only talked (in the letter) about what we found nearby. We called the state five months before we found artifacts nearby. I thought we had enough evidence with what we found at the final landmark site to file a claim without the artifacts."

Mr. Parada was further frustrated by the analysis of the bullet found at the site and because "neither the Minerals Section or Museum Commission sent anyone to investigate the site."

In the analysis, Item No. 8, labeled "tin cans and bullet," reads, "the bullet is a brass shell casing which is far later than the Civil War. It is probably World War I Era or more recent."

George Gill, a former employee of Hubler's Gun Room and Grice Gun Shop, Clearfield, trekked to the DCNR office on Jan. 14 in hopes of adding credence to Mr. Parada's finds by analyzing the bullet.

In a letter from Mr. Gill, a gunsmith with more than 40 years of experience, received by The Progress, he states that he believes that there is credible evidence that the bullet shell is from the Civil War Era. Mr. Gill based his opinion on the book "Cartridges of the World," authored by Frank C. Barnes and published by Follett Publishing Co.

In the letter, Mr. Gill includes drawings and measurements of the bullet shell, noting the following dimensions: rim diameter, varying from .496 to .519; cartridge base diameter, .470; rim thickness varying from .064 to .070 and primer pocket, approximately .180.

"The earliest cartridges that are reasonably close to the dimensions are the 38/40 and 44/40 Winchester, introduced in 1873 and 1874," Mr. Gill wrote, adding that, after taking into consideration the manufacturing tolerances of the time and the condition of the cartridge he examined, the original manufactured cartridge dimensions of rim diameter .525, cartridge base diameter .471, rim thickness .065 and primer pocket .175 "are a pretty good match." He also noted that "these were very popular cartridges in their era."

Because of this and other unspecified beliefs, Mr. Parada says he is certain he has found the location of the gold. Now his challenge has become coming up with enough money to obtain a digging permit and lobbying local legislators for their support. Mr. Parada is also exploring his legal options.

Mr. Parada has sought to obtain a permit to dig up the gold, which he originally thought would cost $15,000. That figure, he said, was based on a survey bond estimate from Ron Mardaga of the U.S. Army Corp of Engineers in Baltimore, Md. However, by the time Mr. Parada submitted an inquiry about obtaining a digging permit, the cost was much higher because, since Mr. Parada was searching other alleged buried treasure sites, the state labeled him a "professional" treasure hunter. As such, Mr. Parada said, representatives of the Museum Commission indicated that he might have to pay $500,000 to obtain the permit.

"Unless someone will back us up that the gold is there, they won't issue us a digging permit," he said.

To date, Mr. Parada has contacted several local and state government officials, but to no avail.

"We have been in contact with Dan Surra, John Peterson, Rick Santorum and Bob Casey," said Mr. Parada. "What we've found is when we talk to them the first time, they are willing to help us. But, as soon as they talk to the state's museum commission, they don't want anything to do with us. A few places we've contacted won't even return our phone calls."

State Rep. Dan A. Surra, D-75 of Kersey, responded to an e-mail inquiry sent to him at dsurra@pahouse.net by The Progress in regards to his correspondence with Mr. Parada, in which he said that he had met with Mr. Parada, but was unable to help him because "it is DCNR's call, not mine." Mr. Surra furthered the statement by writing "State lawmakers do not run DCNR, DOT (the state Department of Transportation), DEP (the state Department of Environmental Protection), etc. We often try to intercede for people when they run into issues with these agencies, but in the end, it is their call."

Mr. Surra suggested that what Mr. Parada needs to do is whatever DCNR asks of him, and noted that Mr. Parada does not live in his district.

E-mail inquiries placed by The Progress to U.S. Rep. John E. Peterson, R-5 of Pleasantville, and U.S. Sen. Robert P. Casey Jr., D-PA, were unanswered as of press time.

"We just want to get this resolved," said Mr. Parada. "We've been waiting a long time for something to happen with this, and we would be satisfied with just knowing what it is we may have found."

The Dents Run Treasure in the Progress Part I

2008-02-05T19:55:00.001-05:00

This is part one of the Progress' article on the Dents Run treasure. I have copied it here verbatim because I do not believe that the Progress archives their material for very long on their site (http://www.theprogressnews.com). The author of this piece is Josh Woods, and the article was originally published February 2, 2008.

This article is part one of two. Part two can be read here. This article's original home on the web is at:

http://www.theprogressnews.com/default.asp?read=11036

Dennis Parada of Clearfield, his son Kem and close friends Scott Farrell and Mike Malley anticipated fame and fortune after believing they had discovered buried treasure in northern Pennsylvania that may have an estimated worth of millions.

The year of the alleged discovery was 2004, and three years later, the quartet is no more rich nor famous than it was prior to its findings. Contradictory reports, state law and lots of confusion has left Mr. Parada in a unique quandary - knowing the possible location of the largest treasure find in Pennsylvania and having no immediate means of doing anything about it.

Mr. Parada's journey to find the treasure, the lost gold of Dents Run, began in 1975 when he and a few of his co-workers had gained interest in amateur metal detecting.

While working at an area furniture store, a gentleman gave Mr. Parada a map he alleged would lead to the gold. The map lined up with other maps Mr. Parada already had in his possession and contained several landmarks, including a fire pit that would mark the location of the gold. The map, coupled with local legend, piqued Mr. Parada's interest.

A search of the map area by Mr. Parada turned up several landmarks; though, ultimately, the claim was left unfounded at that time. It was not until Mr. Parada, who had been telling the story of his search for years, was given the encouragement of friends and relatives that he made a successful return trip to the site.

According to a story written by Michael Paul Henson that appeared on page 24 of a 1983 issue of Lost Treasure magazine, a shipment of 26 partially refined gold bars lost by a Union Army patrol in 1863 was believed to be located in the vicinity of Hicks Run and Dents Run in Elk and Cameron counties.

The story reports that during the Civil War, a Union lieutenant, known as Lt. Castleton, read orders at Wheeling, W.Va., to proceed north with two wagons equipped with false bottoms and partially loaded with gold.

His orders, the story states, were to proceed northeast to avoid the possibility of running into Confederate patrols - Gen. Robert E. Lee's Gray Army had advanced northward and would eventually commence in the battle of Gettysburg.

When the lieutenant reached a point where he believed it was safe, he was to turn southeast and deliver the gold, which was brought from the West, to Union headquarters in Harrisburg, where it would then be moved to the mint in Philadelphia.

Lt. Castleton was eventually struck by fever and he and his men became lost in the wilderness while searching for the Sinnemahoning River. They had planned to build a raft and float to the Susquehanna and onward to Harrisburg.

Due to Lt. Castleton's condition, the group decided to separate. A man identified as Connors and two other men were to proceed on foot to Sinnemahoning and get help. Lt. Castleton and the rest of the men were to transfer the gold to pack saddles and go southward as fast as his condition would permit.

Castleton's party was never seen again. Connors arrived 10 days later with a rescue party from an Army post in Lock Haven and found only abandoned wagons. After several days of searching the rescue was called off.

Pinkerton Detectives, the main source of Army intelligence at that time, were then given the task of locating the gold, posing as prospectors and lumbermen as they canvassed the area.

Pinkerton's search also came up empty.

In November of 2004, with this story fresh on his mind, Mr. Parada returned to the Dents Run location he had searched years ago.

This time it was at the urging of Mr. Farrell, who thought Mr. Parada should continue his search for the final resting place of the gold.

Armed with only his recollection of the site and a metal detector, he and Mr. Farrell made a startling discovery: his map's final landmark. The two quickly became intrigued, because the site was located at the foot of the mountain where, according to Mr. Henson's story, surveyors of county lines found human skeletons in 1876.

Unfortunately the duo faced a big problem: the final landmark was located on state property.

"We first found the site in early November during bear season, on a Friday, and we called DCNR (the state Department of Conservation and Natural Resources) on Monday to report that we thought we had the location of the lost gold," said Mr. Parada. "I was told to call back on Wednesday, because Monday was the start of deer season and Mrs. (Jeanne) Wambaugh (the district forester) would be back then.

"On the third day of deer season, I called back and talked to her and she said to stop digging until she could talk to someone in Harrisburg. DCNR didn't think we had enough information to prove my find, so we waited until spring to do surface digging to look for artifacts."

Surface digging, digging that occurs no farther than two inches below the ground's surface, is allowed by law. The challenge here was that Mr. Parada was not allowed by law to do any "deep" digging.

Under Pennsylvania's consolidated statutes, Title 37, Historical and Museums, a person who conducts a field investigation on any land or submerged land owned or controlled by the Commonwealth, without first obtaining a permit from the state's museum commission, commits a third-degree misdemeanor. If convicted, one could pay a fine of not more than $2,500, face imprisonment or both.

Because of this, the gold, if it is in fact located where Mr. Parada's detectors have monitored it, had to remain underground.

Mr. Parada said that in the spring of 2005, he found several objects and unearthed them via surface digging - rock samples, a whiskey bottle, knives, animal traps, tin cans, a zinc mason jar lid and a bullet shell.

Fragile bones that appeared to be dragged away from the site by animals were also found.

According to Mrs. Wambaugh, DCNR had been seeking to contact the individual digging at the property at that time.

"We made contact and met up together," said Mrs. Wambaugh in a November telephone interview. "Once contact was made we notified Dennis (Mr. Parada) that digging on state property was illegal.

"He was very truthful and honest with us and told us that he was the person digging and did not realize that he was not allowed to do it. At that time, he ceased digging and gave us the items that he had found. We still have them here."

Mrs. Wambaugh followed up on the finds by placing a phone call to DCNR's Minerals Section in Harrisburg, which instructed her to inform Mr. Parada to cease digging and that they would test his finds for authenticity at his request.

"We thought we would be heroes," said Mr. Parada. "Instead, we ended up feeling like we were criminals."

Part 2 of Mr. Parada's story will continue in Monday's edition of The Progress.

Dents Run Treasure

2008-02-02T21:35:00.000-05:00

The Progress has picked up on Finders Keepers USA's claim to have located 1300 pounds of gold lost by the US Army during June 1863 in the Sinnemahoning Valley. You can read their story here. For more information from FKUSA, check out their Dents Run site. For the background on the story, you can look at Pete Bennett's site. Part two of the Progress article is due Monday.

Psalm 19 Outline

2008-01-27T16:11:00.003-05:00

Another Psalm outline using my basic method. This one is much more sparse than 121, and there is much more to say about the poem.

Introduction

Type of Psalm: Teaching/Torah Psalm, teaching us about the goodness of Yahweh's Torah (Law/Revelation).

Superscript: To the Choirmaster. A Psalm of David. Also a lyrical song, meant to be sung by the congregation.

The heavens declare the glory of God,
And the sky above proclaims His handiwork.
Day to day pours out speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, 
Nor are there words
Whose voice is not heard.
Their voice goes out through all the earth,
And their words to the end of the world.

In them He has set tent for the sun,
Which comes out like a bridegroom leaving his chamber,
And, like a strong man, runs its course with joy.

Its rising is from the end of the heavens,
And its circuit to the end of them,
And there is nothing hidden from its heat.

Structure - Both sections 1 and 2 have the same internal structure (with one crucial difference). 1) Six parallel lines describing a kind of speech (the speech of the creation vs. God's revelation). 2) Two images describing the speaker/speech. 3) Concluding lines about the effect of the speech.

Part 1 - Six parallel lines about the speech of the creation. They talk about the glory of God. Lines 5-7 unbalance this from Section 2, teaching us that the creation only speaks metaphorically. The stars speak to everyone on earth.

Part 2 - Two images to describe the sun, the chief speaker of the sky. Images describe both the greatness of the sun and his action of sweeping over the earth.

Part 3 - The effect of the sun is to cover over all the earth.

Section 2

The law of Yahweh is perfect, reviving the soul;
The testimony of Yahweh is sure, making wise the simple;
The precepts of Yahweh are right, rejoicing the heart;
The commandment of Yahweh is pure, enlightening the eyes;
The fear of Yahweh is clean, enduring forever;
The rules of Yahweh are true, and righteous altogether.

More to be desired are they than gold, even much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and drippings of the honeycomb.

Moreover, by them is your servant warned;
In keeping them there is great reward.

Part 1 - Six tightly parallel lines describing God's revelation. First names revelation by a different word, second part gives and adjective to describe it, third part describes its effect. Different names for revelation teach us that the Psalm is talking about all of God's spoken/written revelation to man. Effects remind us of the effects of the sun (enlightening, reviving, rejoicing).

Part 2 - Two images to describe the greatness of the law.

Part 3 - The effect of the law is to teach us, and provide us the way of reward.

Section 3

Who can discern his errors?
Declare me innocent from hidden faults.
Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins;
Let them not have dominion over me!
Then I shall be blameless,
And innocent of great transgression.
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
Be acceptable in your sight,
O YHWH, my rock and my redeemer.

The structure of this sections is loose, not related to the first two sections. This is a lyrical prayer. The speaker now speaks to God in the first person.

This prayer is prompted by considering the effect of the sun and the Law. If the Law searches like the sun, a sinner needs help, and so he cries to God for it.

Image: Yahweh is our rock, which pictures a fortress. Even when Yahweh's law is searching us, God is still our protection.

Conclusions

The parallel structure of the first two sections show us that the sky (specifically the sun) is a poetic image itself showing us what God's revelation is like. It is good, it is warm and comforting, and it covers everything.

The primary way that the sky speaks is by being a poetic image. Most poets work by thinking of the thing that they want to describe and then looking at the material in the world to find an image. God works by thinking of thing He wants to describe and then making something to serve as an image.

This poem describes all of God's revelation. David does not know the difference between "Law" and "Gospel". All of God's revelation is good, providing salvation.

Psalm 121 Outline

2008-01-27T15:29:00.004-05:00

This is a brief outline of Psalm 121 that the Sunday School class of Grace Reformed Presbyterian Church in Dubois came up with as we studied. The study follows the basic method outlined in my Reading Bible Poems handout. This is just a basic outline, and omits very many things that we talked about in class.

Introductory Notes

Type of Psalm: Three-Part Lyric.

Superscript: A Song of Ascents - a lyrical psalm used by pilgrims on the road to Jerusalem for one of the three annual feasts (Unleavened Bread/Passover, Weeks/Pentecost, and Tabernacles/Harvest)

A  I lift up my eyes to the hills
  B  From where does my
    C  Help come?
    C' My help comes
  B' From Yahweh,
A' Who made heaven and earth

Chiasm points out the main point of the Psalm- help. We know that Yahweh is our help, so we are forced to ask "What kind of help?"

Images: The hills, from whence my help cometh - Since Jerusalem is situated at the top of a giant ridge running the length of the Holy Land parallel to the Mediterranean, a pilgrim traveler is usually going up into the mountains. The setting of this poem is a desert/mountain journey to Jerusalem.

Section 2 - 1st Developmental Image

He will not let your foot be moved
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel shall neither slumber
  nor sleep

This is the first of three "verses" that answer the question introduced in the controlling theme- "What sort of help?". Each of the three verses has a similar structure: two parallel lines describing a help that Yahweh gives, and a third line containing an amplification showing how extensive that help is using a double image ("slumber nor sleep", "sun by day, moon by night", "going out and coming in").

Images: Let your foot be moved - Another mountain journey image picturing stumbling and falling on a steep mountain pass.

God's help preserves us from our own mistakes and sins.

Section 3 - 2nd Developmental Image

Yahweh is your keeper;
Yahweh is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
  Nor the moon by night

Images: Sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night - Dangerous environment of a desert/mountain journey.

Yahweh protects us from the harshness of the world.

Section 4 - 3rd Developmental Image and Concluding General Application

Yahweh will keep you from all evil;
He will keep your life.
Yahweh will keep your going out 
  And your coming in
  From this time forth and forevermore.

Images: Going out and coming in - All the journeys to and from Jerusalem for the rest of our lives.

God protects us from evil, hostile forces who hate us.

This also serves as the generalizing and concluding theme. God preserves our whole lives, all our journeys forevermore.

Conclusions

Three types of helps (mistakes/sins, circumstances, evil) touch every area of life. "What kind of help?" Every kind of help we need.

All the imagery is from a desert journey, an image that an Israelite would take as a metaphor for all our lives under the sun.

God is always ready to help, and will be forevermore.

The Beech Creek Railroad in Clearfield County

2007-11-24T19:49:00.000-05:00

Here's an interesting article on the Beech Creek Railroad in Clearfield County, specifically near Gorton, Grassflat and the ghost town of Peale in Cooper Township. The Beech Creek Railroad came up the Allegeny Front from Jersey Shore along Beech Creek, then across the mountain top from Clarence to the Moshannon Creek near Snow Shoe. The little towns through the area sprang up around mine shafts that provided the rail traffic. Most of these towns are gone now, and the railroad in the area is now a walking and four-wheeler trail.

To see some pictures from the trail, you can look at:

http://www.stoplandfill.com/gallery.htm

More info on Peale can be found at:

http://go.owu.edu/~jbkrygie/krygier_html/peale/peale.html

Clearfield County Waters

2007-11-03T20:36:00.000-04:00

The Clearfield County Senior Environment Corp. was commissioned around time of the bicentennial to publish a booklet of stories regarding the watersheds of the county. Here is the fruit of their labors.

Presbyterianism in Clearfield County

2007-10-20T19:59:00.001-04:00

From the Twentieth Century History of Clearfield County by Roland Swoope:

Presbyterian - In the first history of Clearfield county, published in 1878, we find the following lines:

"The first meeting house in Clearfield county was built in the year 1809 and was located at the site of McClure's cemetery. It was of the Presbyterian
faith."

To the members of this denomination, then, must be conceded the honor of
having erected the first house of worship in our county.

A church building was erected in Clearfield several years later, and one in Curwensville in 1826. These charges were admitted to the Huntingdon Presbytery,
which at that time had a total number of 558 communicants.

There is now a church membership of 3,111 in this county, and nineteen church buildings.

These statistics prove in a most convincing manner the marvelous growth of this denomination, and the powerful and thriving condition of the Presbyterian
church in Clearfield county at the present time.

Seeing Pennsylvania

2007-10-13T21:32:00.001-04:00

Seeing Pennsylvania by John Thomson Faris (1919) describes various scenic journeys around Pennsylvania. There is an excellent chapter on Central PA, starting in Altoona and moving north. Look for the chapter called Through the Heart of the Black Forest starting on page 315 (not 135 as the table of contents states).

Here's an excerpt, about a place mentioned here before:

A point of special interest along Sinnemahoning is Round Island, several miles east of the west border of Clinton County. Here is Altar Rock. This oddity, seventy feet high, is described as a spiral of rocks, standing on the north bank of the stream in full view of the Pennsylvania Railroad tracks, and thus within view of the highway also.

Western Pennsylvania Coalfields

2007-10-13T20:24:00.000-04:00

Western Pennsylvania Coalfields contains photos and info on the various coalfields that make up Western PA. Unfortunately, there's only a brief mention of any of the fields in Clearfield County. There are a few photos from the Bennetts Branch Field, including Tyler in Clearfield County and Byrnedale in Elk County.

Landforms of Central PA

2007-10-13T19:40:00.000-04:00

Here is a fascinating map of the various geologic and geographical regions of Pennsylvania. For those of you curious, you can find Clearfield County in the corner between the Pittsburgh Low Plateau, the Allegheny Front, and the Allegheny High Plateau Deep Valleys sections.

Although the map would contradict, Clearfield's "mountain" is a finger of the Allegheny High Plateau that descends south. The front of the high plateau then runs to the northeast parallel to the West Branch, north of Frenchville and Karthaus. The Allegheny Front is the great mountain that goes runs from Somerset to Altoona and up to Williamsport. In this area, it goes by various names: Tipton, Tyrone, Sandy Ridge, Port, Snow Shoe, and Cooper.

Allen James Gaines, Rugged Outsdoorsman

2007-10-07T20:05:00.003-04:00

Rosemary Nicosia sent this article in after reading my Fields Run Travelogue post from last year. Allen Gaines, pictured on the right at the mouth of Fields Run, was an outdoorsman who lived with his family in the house I called the Fields Run Camp. This article is originally from Come Walk With Me, Volume IV., by Wayne Biddle Harpster.

Allen James Gaines was born at Moore’s Run, Centre County, Pennsylvania, on January 29, 1873. Moore’s Run empties into the West Branch of the Susquehanna River, three miles above Field’s Run. When Allen was eighteen months of age, his family moved down river to Field’s Run where Allen spent most of his long life. The Gaines home was located in the northern part of Centre County. The River was the boundary between Centre and Clinton Counties so when the Gaines family crossed the West Branch of the Susquehanna, they were in Clinton County. Today one finds no families living in that isolated area, although there are several hunting camps. The old Gaines home is used now as a camp. To reach these camps, hunters must drive the old Gaines Trail, using four-wheel drive vehicles. Years ago the Gaines had several neighbors within a few miles as several stone foundations are still to be found today.

Allen Gaines had two brothers and a sister Blanche. Brother Warren passed away when young. Brother John Albert Gaines married Rachel Gaines and they raised a family of sixteen children. John was a tall man, standing six feet six inches. He was a foreman on the New Central Railroad and later watched the railroad tunnel at Karthaus.

John had built a house on the small Gaines tract, on the opposite side of Field’s Run from Allen’s small house. One cold winter night, John’s house caught on fire and burned to the ground. Of their meager household furniture, only a rocking chair was saved from the fire. It was placed on the snow in the front yard. There was a slick crust on the snow and there was a grade from the house to the river. In the excitement, no one noticed the rocking chair beginning to slide, and it was near the river when first seen. The family watched helplessly as the chair fell into the water and the river carried it away. John died December 22, 1953.

Allen’s wife’s name was Wickle. Although the couple were childless, they had taken a girl to raise. Betty always referred to them as her parents. Mrs. Gaines was a capable and industrious woman. She was a fine cook, good housekeeper and she plated [sic] rugs and made quilts. She could pole or row a boat very well and was an excellent trout fisher. A scrub board was used for washing, and Allen’s heavy clothes, as well as the clothes of the hunters who lived with the Gaines during deer season, were always clean.

To support Mrs. Gaines and himself during their earlier years, Allen was a logger and worked in the woods. He was one of five men who made up a logging crew. The crew of men to which he belonged was comprised of tall rugged men with perhaps Allen, at six feet two inches in height, the shortest of the lot. The tools used by such a logging crew back in the early nineteen hundreds, comprised of a seven foot, two man crosscut saw, double bited [sic] axe, a spud and a measuring pole. During the early logging of the virgin forests, an ax was used to notch the trunk to determine the direction of the tree’s fall and also used to trim limbs from the tree. Today chain saws are used for notching, trimming out, and cutting down the tree.

In the early days of logging, teams of horses were used for skidding logs. On steep hillsides, logs were rolled into slides that would carry them sliding down grade to the bottom. Later tractors with crawler treads were used for skidding logs and today, four-wheel drive tree harvesters are mostly used.

On the West Branch of the Susquehanna, during the early logging days, the trees were felled and sawed into log lengths. This was known as bucking. There were slides on the river hills and horses were used to skid the logs to the slide. The logs were rolled onto the slide and they would go speeding down the hill to the river. The slide would be used during the winter when the ground was frozen. Logs slide much easier on frozen ground. Certain slides were used so much that even the frozen ground was worn away in places, leaving the slide a yard or more in depth. Log slides were also built and they worked out very well, especially on rocky hill. When the logs got to the river, they were made into rafts, each containing about 7,000 cubic feet and each spring during high water, as many as seventy-five rafts would be floated down the river to Lock Haven or Williamsport to be sawed into boards.

Allen Gaines was a skilled woodsman at felling trees, skidding logs, building rafts and piloting them down the West Branch to the mills down river. When up in years, he was a guest on “The Last Raft” but had gotten off before the raft struck the bridge pier down river. What had been planned as a “commemorating rafting” ended in tragedy with loss of life.

At times Allen Gaines labored as a member of a track crew for the New York Central Railroad, it was not his favorite occupation. Later in life he patrolled the Spruce Run Hunting Club’s lands to help keep trespassers and violators from going onto that private property. When patrolling, Allen wore a large badge that was a bright metal star. The large tract on Spruce Run was owned by the Steven Girard Estate of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The large mansion and care taker’s house on the estate, were enclosed with a fence for privacy. For many years, Mr. and Mrs. Martin Meeker lived in the caretaker’s house within the fenced complex and looked after the mansion and the activities that took place there.

The Gaines family lived mostly off the land. Allen planted a large garden each spring, doing all the work by hand. He grew beans, tomatoes, potatoes, corn, beets, carrots, rhubarb, artichokes and horseradish. There were apple trees and in the fall, cider was boiled down and apple butter was made. In February, Allen would tap sugar maple trees and collect the sap. The sap was then boiled down into maple syrup. Wild berries such as strawberries, huckleberries, black and red raspberries, blackberries, dewberries and cranberries were canned and often without sugar. Bill Hall told me of a time, when as boys, he and two friends had walked from the Fields Ridge Road, down the Gaines Trail to the Allen Gaines place. No one was living there at the time. The boys looked about, and being hungry, they entered the cave, and each took a quart jar of canned blackberries which they ate as they climbed the trail back to their car parked on the Ridge road. The berries had been canned without sugar and proved to be quite sour. The boys had been so hungry, they enjoyed the berries nevertheless.

Some garden vegetables were canned for winter use, while other vegetables such as beans and corn were dried. Peaches and apples were also dried. Teas were gathered and dried for winter use. They included peppermint, pennyroyal, catnip and sassafras. Allen had planted black walnut trees about his house years before, so he was able to gather walnuts and wild hickory nuts for winter use. He dug ginseng in late summer after their berries were mature and red. The berries were planted in hope that the ginseng patch would be enlarged, for the roots were dried and sold as a source of income.

Wild game was the meat for the family throughout the year. It usually didn’t matter whether the hunting season was open or closed. The following story was also narrated to me by Bill Hall of Snow Shoe, Pennsylvania. On July 5, 1924, he and his father with others, were fishing Field’s run for native brook trout. Before noon the bait ran out, so Mr. Hall (Beany) took Bill and they walked down to the Gaines Place to dig more worms. The day was warm and the kitchen door stood open without a screen door. Mr. Hall knew Mr. and Mrs. Gaines well, and he just walked into the kitchen followed by Bill and surprised Mrs. Gaines as she fried a pan of venison for dinner, using a large, long handled, thin steel skillet. Mrs. Gaines didn’t recognize Beany at once, so she took hold of the skillet’s handle and threw it under the stove with the venison. She then recognized Mr. Hall and cried out, “Beany, you s----“ in a most unladylike fashion. Her fright was soon past and Bill and Beany were invited to stay to have dinner with them. The Halls helped eat the venison and were also served ice cream. It seemed that a party planned for the previous day, had failed to materialize and that ice cream had been held over.

Allen Gaines had been an admirer of both Lincoln and Washington, and he enjoyed dwelling on their merits. Bill considered him very knowledgeable on both great men. Bill told me Allen was much better informed than was Mr. Hall.

Field’s Run was an excellent creek to fish for native brook trout, and both Mr. and Mrs. Gaines enjoyed the sport. The stream ran through their property so they found it most convenient to spend a few hours fishing there in the evenings. Both were very successful in fishing. Allen handmade the rods used by the family. The wood used was principally aspen although their two most valued rods were made, one of mountain laurel, and the other of white oak.

The woods used were split into near the desired diameters and then clamped down to dry, to keep each section straight. When dry, a draw knife was used to cut the sections down to near size, and then with glass, the sections were scraped round, and smoothed to fit the brass ferrules used on jointed rods. Jointed rods were usually made with three sections plus the handle with the reel mount. Each section was tapered and when put together, the rod became balanced and responsive to the fisherman’s demands. Allen used his wife’s wire hairpins to make the rod guides and he used red and green silk thread for the wrapping of them. The finished rods were beautiful to see and to use. Allen purchased the ferrules from some supply house that handled such items.

Allen Gaines passed away on May 14, 1955, sixteen years before I became interested in learning something about him and his family. The first person I interviewed concerning Allen Gaines, his family and their way of life, was Mr. John Heichel who lived alone in a house trailer. At my knock on his door, he invited me in and I introduced myself. I, then, told him of my interest in learning of Allen Gaines and some of the happenings that took place in his life. I asked if he would be willing to talk with me. When he answered in the affirmative, I asked him, “What kind of a man was Allen Gaines?” Mr. Heichel was leaning over his kitchen sink as I asked that question. He stood in that position, looking down into the sink for some time as if he hadn’t heard my question, and then, still bent over, he turned his face toward me and a smile broke out as he answered, “He was a rugged outdoorsman.” I learned this was the general opinion of most folks I interviewed.

Living back in the isolated “River Country” required rugged and creative people. They had to do without certain things that town folks considered absolutely necessary. The little Gaines house did not have indoor plumbing. Water was carried from the spring located between the house and the river. Each family member learned to make fire with flint and steel as matches were not always available. It was inconvenient to get to a doctor or dentist as all towns were great distances away, and walking was their means of getting about. To aid the few distant neighbors with their problems, Allen made a pair of forceps for pulling teeth, but a sedative was not available. He learned to set broken bones and to apply splints. He was very wise in the use of medicinal plants also and prescribed remedies for a number of ailments.

The Gaines family had two accesses to the outside world and both required walking. The one was to walk to route 144, a distance of six miles and then many more miles to Pine Glen, or to cross the river by boat, and walk the New York Central Railroad track to New Garden, a distance of ten miles. The school Betty attended was in New Garden. During the school terms, either Mr. or Mrs. Gaines rowed or poled the boat across the river on Sunday afternoon, then she would walk to New Garden and attend school during the week, staying overnights with friends, and Saturdays she would walk the ten miles of track to be picked up and taken across the river by boat to the home. The next day, the boat ride and the ten mile walk would be repeated as she would prepare for another week of school.

The railroad proved to be a great convenience to the Gaines family over the years. A small motorized car, similar to a Volkswagen (called the “Hoodlebug”), operated a scheduled run on the New York Central tracks. The railroad ran on the opposite side of the river from the Gaines home. As we mentioned previously, the family lived mostly off the land, but certain supplies had to be purchased, such as bacon by the side, flour and sugar in one hundred pound lots, kerosene, salt and pepper. At such times a shopping list was made out and either Allen or Mrs. Gaines would take the list across the river by boat at about the time the Hoodlebug was scheduled to go by. When the one who operated the little car would see either standing by the track, he would stop, take the shopping list and purchase the listed items at either Keating or Clearfield, depending on the direction the little car was traveling at the time. On the car’s return trip, it would stop opposite the Gaines home as one of the family would have again rowed or poled one of their boats across the river and be waiting to pick up and pay for the items purchased for them. The trip would again be made back across the river with the heavy load and then carried to the house, a distance of perhaps ninety yards. A large enough supply of each item was purchased at one time that shopping needed to be done only every two months.

Chickens supplied eggs and meat for the table, so a flock of these birds was kept by the Gaines family. Each spring a number of broody hens was set on a clutch of eggs and after the eggs hatched, a number of hens with their peeps, could be seen scratching about as they sought food for the chicks.

One year Allen bought a cow from a party quite some distance away. Being the only bovine in that isolated area, she apparently became lonesome, for the [sic] left the Gaines place and returned to her former home. Allen walked the great distance back to get the cow and again led her to the Gaines place. Twice more she returned to her former home, only to have Allen walk the long distance and bring her back. The fourth time the cow left the river country to return to her old home, Allen decided he would be better off without such a beast. Never again did he consider acquiring a milk cow.

When Allen Gaines was eighteen years old in 1891, he killed his first deer, a nice ten point buck. He had the head mounted and in 1971, I was shown the mounted head as it hung in the Bill Hahn home, and Bill permitted me to photograph it. In 1891 deer were extremely scarce in Pennsylvania. In 1895, [deer were extremely scarce in Pennsylvania, and in 1895] the Pennsylvania Game Commission was established. Prior to that date there was no protection of any kind for wildlife. I well remember the scarcity of deer during the early nineteen hundreds.

Years ago shooting matches were very popular in the country, and so it was in the Pottersdale area. Mr. Dan Heichel, the father of John Heichel, held shooting matches regularly. A log building stood on the grounds of the shooting range and there was a wood stove to warm the building so the shooters were able to get warm between matches. Chickens, ducks and turkeys were furnished for the prizes to the shooter whose shot was closest to the + on the target. Each shot cost twenty-five or fifty cents, depending on the number of shooters entered in that particular round.

Some men walked great distances, carrying their rifles, to be contestants in these matches. Allen Gaines took part in these shoots regularly, and Job McGonigle told me Allen took home his share of the winning. Allen shot a Model 92 Winchester rifle in 30-06 caliber.

Back years ago when shooting matches were so popular, Job McGonigle decided to purchase an expensive rifle and become one of the better shooters of the Pottersdale area. He bought a fine Winchester rifle with set triggers in 38 caliber. He and a friend took the rifle and sighted it in. They were both pleased with the accuracy of the new rifle and believed the other shooters, with their older inaccurate rifles, would have little opportunity to do any winning. Not long after Mr. McGonigle had his new rifle sighted in and his hopes had climbed to full assurance, a man who lived in the Pottersdale area found himself in need of some funds, so he advertised a shooting match with fifteen turkeys as prizes. A number of shooters turned out to take part in the match, but no man bore the thrill and the expectancy as did Job McGonigle. When the shooting match was over, so was Job’s thrill and expectancy. Although some of the winning shots had been as far as four inches from the target’s +, Mr. McGonigle failed to win one turkey. An old 38-55 caliber Winchester had won most of the turkeys. Job learned a lesson that day. It takes a good rifle to win turkeys at shooting matches and good man back of the rifle is necessary also.

In the middle 1920’s, the deer herd began to increase in the river country and hunters would travel long distances as they sought to kill a trophy buck. Allen Gaines saw the financial opportunity one might have by keeping and guiding hunters during the two weeks of Antlered Deer Season. He decided to enlarge his house by adding a large addition to the southwest end. The new part measured 13 feet by 18 feet on the outside and it had a room on the second floor with very low head room under the eaves. The room above had but one single sash window in the gable end. The room below had an outside door and two single sash windows, one on either side of the door. These two windows and the door faced the river. The log addition was chinked and whitewashed. The little old house was covered with tar paper.

The deer hunters that stayed with the Gaines had some successful seasons hunting that area. After a few years some of the hunters became very careless and did some illegal killing that Allen didn’t approve of being done. Prior to the opening of the following year’s deer season, Allen got in touch with Tom Moser of Bellefonte, the game warden of Centre County, who agreed to send two deputies to Allen’s home the Sunday evening before deer season opened. The deputies were to pose as hunters, staying with Allen and were to watch what took place as the men hunted.

One of the deputies sent to the Gaines’ home was David Dahlgren, Centre County Fish Warden at the time. The two deputies parked their car at the side of the Fields Ridge Road and walked the Gaines Trail, carrying their suitcases and rifles. They got to the Gaines home just at supper time and the women were beginning to place the food on the table. Some of the hunters began to eat immediately. Allen then stood up and said, “Men we say grace before we eat here, and while I’m at it, I will tell you some other things we don’t do here. We don’t swear, we don’t play cards, we don’t gamble, and I don’t want to catch one of you men in the kitchen with the women.” Allen Gaines was large enough and rugged enough to enforce those don’ts if necessary.

Allen apparently had many chickens killed and dressed as he had prepared for the hunters to be with him that season. For supper the Sunday evening, the women served a meal of roast chicken and all the trimmings and David reported it was an excellent meal. For breakfast the next morning, the women served a fried chicken meal. When the hunters opened their noon lunches in the deer woods that day, they discovered cold fried chicken. After the days hunt, the men sat down to a meal of chicken and waffles. The men came to the breakfast table the next morning, fearing that chicken might be served for the fifth consecutive meal. I’m glad to report buckwheat cakes and sausage were a most welcome change of diet for all the hunters as well as deputies.

The Gaines family heated and cooked with wood. When wood was needed, Allen acquired a permit from the State’s District Forester that specified a certain number of cords of dead wood to be cut from the State Forest located just behind the Gaines plot. The permit issued to Allen Gaines on December 18, 1933, gave the following information.

Commonwealth of Pennsylvania No. 1461

Department of Forests and Waters

Keating Division
Sproul #10 Forest

Timber Permit

Dec. 18, 1933 permission granted to Allen Gaines

To obtain 4 cords dead wood at or near Fields

Run, on or before Jan. 10, 1934

Subject to rules on back hereof

25 cents each cord

Chas. Hozelad

Between 7 A.M. and 6 P.M.

To get the firewood to the house from the State Forest, Allen believed he needed a truck. The problem was how to get such a vehicle into that isolated area. On the Centre County side of the river, there was a woods road that led to the Gaines’ Trail. It was five miles long and had not been made for automobile travel. The Gaines Trail led from the woods road, to the Gaines home, down the steep river hill. The Trail was a rough, rocky mile in length and unfit for truck travel.

The new York Central Railroad tracks followed the river closely on the Clinton County side. There was a narrow dirt road along the railroad tracks that was used by the New York Central in keeping the tracks in repair. To use this road would still require the railroad tracks to be crossed and the truck to be taken down a very steep grade to the river. Allen waited for a long dry period when the water in the river would be very low. On July 28, 1971, I waded the West Branch of the Susquehanna during a dry season and learned it required 283 steps to cross, so the river is quite wide at the Gaines Place. I found the bed of the river quite stony and the deepest water was slightly above my knees. I did not venture into the deepest areas.

Allen decided the river was low enough to be forded. He purchased a 1923 Chevrolet truck and drove it up the narrow dirt road located close to the railroad tracks. When he got to the place selected to ford the river, blocking was placed on either side of the rails, so the truck could cross over the track. A stout rope was tied at the back of the truck and then snubbed to a tree on top of the steep grade down to the river. Slowly the little truck was eased down until it stood at the edge of the river. Allen started the engine and slowly and carefully forded the river, following the course he had prepared beforehand.

After using the truck for some time, he decided the truck could be maneuvered better between the trees, if the fenders were removed. This he did and for a number of years Allen trucked firewood to the house. Being unable to get his vehicle to a filling or service station, gasoline and oil had to be carried in for the truck. A hand pump was used to inflate the tires and Allen learned to do many of the repairs required for the truck.

Many years ago, Paul Harper and his son-in-law, John Fleckenstein, were hunting on a hill above the Gaines Place. They heard a motor running down in the hollow below them, and being curious about the sound in such isolated country, walked down to investigate. They found Allen hauling out his winters wood. He was delighted to see Paul as Allen was out of pipe tobacco and Paul, being a smoker, could help him out.

The barn on the Gaines plot was made of logs. The logs were round and quite large. The notching had been done expertly but there was no chinking between the logs. Two forked poles had been cut, one oak and the other dogwood. They had been spiked, each to the logs in the barn ends and they extended vertically above the barn’s square. These supported the ridge pole that had been cut on each end to fit the forks perfectly. Round poles made up the rafters, and boards were nailed across the poles to support the forty-two inch long, white pine shakes that roofed the building. The shakes had been smoothed with a draw knife but were not tapered. There were no doors or windows installed in the barns openings. A stairway climbed to the hay mow, and in 1971, rotting hay covered the mows floor. Railroad spikes had been driven into a few logs on the inside of the barn, and from one of the spikes, hung two old style, worn-out truck tires. The barn faced the river. The front half of the roof was completely gone, shakes and rafters.

The Saint Patrick’s Day flood of March 17, 1936, saw the river at flood stage. Allen Gaines had watched the river rise and was concerned for the safety of his two boats. He dragged each boat up to the front porch and tied them fast to the porch posts. The swirling flood waters did not quite reach them. Where the flood waters peaked, there Allen set a native stone marker upon which he cut the date, March 17, 1936, with a hammer and chisel. On May 24, 1971, the river was running full and on that day, the stone marker stood fifty-three yards from the water’s edge.

Two of Allen Gaines’ favorite books were the “Bible” and “The Pilot and Compass of Character Building.” Each Sunday the Gaines held services in their home and devotions were read in their home each morning. Allen kept a paper in his Bible on which he made a mark for each time he read the Bible through. The paper bore nine marks.

Allen Gaines was a staunch Republican and voted regularly, walking the long distance to the polls. At such times he stayed overnight with friends or relatives. One night he stayed with Mr. and Mrs. Martin Meeker. The next day Martin drove Allen out Route 144 and dropped him off at the nearest point to his home. Allen had a six mile walk to his home. More often Allen stayed overnight in Karthaus with the Bill Hahns. Mrs. Hahn was a niece of Allen Gaines, being a daughter of John A. Gaines.

Allen enjoyed hunting rabbits and raccoons. He kept two hounds, one for each sport. Two friends enjoyed hunting coon with Allen. They were Andy Soltis and Fred Jackson. Fred Jackson lived in Renovo and would make the long trip to the Gaines home to hunt with Allen.

Allen Gaines passed away in Driftwood on May 14, 1955 at the age of 82 years, 4 months and 14 days. He was buried in the Driftwood cemetery. I was directed to contact Nettie Teats of Driftwood, PA, who would be able to tell me the location of Allen Gaines’ grave.

In 1971 Bill Meeker logged off the small Allen Gaines plot near the river. He told me it was the finest timber he had ever cut. Bill showed me a tulip poplar he had cut down the previous day. The tree had yielded four logs up the first limb. The first log was 14 feet long, the second log was 12 feet long and the third and fourth logs were each 10 feet long. Much of the timber cut was tulip poplar. Bill showed me a red oak log from the tract that was 34” in diameter. Bill owned two large four-wheel drive trucks with which the logs were taken the five miles up Field Hollow and then to his sawmill. Bill had built two bridges across Field’s Run in the lower part of the hollow. The trucks forded the creek elsewhere. Shortly after starting the logging of the Gaines tract, Bill Meeker reported they had killed eight rattlesnakes on that logging job.

Meditations on Psalm 1

2007-10-03T09:41:00.000-04:00

Psalm 1 is the preface to the Book of Psalms, and describes how the collection as a whole. Here are some thoughts on how that works, with a few selected references (not exhaustive by any means) for each:

"Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful" - The Book of Psalms is concerned with the antithesis, or what we would call the division between good and evil. There is a lifestyle of righteousness, and there is a lifestyle of wickedness. The Psalms teach us the difference. (Psalm 15, 37, 73)

"But his delight is in the Torah of Yahweh, and in His Torah doth he meditate day and night" - The most obvious relation to the book as a whole. The man who reads, studies, meditates upon, and delights in the Psalms will be greatly blessed. Note the word Torah, which has a richer meaning than the translated word "law". It means the loving instruction of a father, our father Yahweh. (Psalm 19, 119)

"And he shall be like a tree planted by rivers of water... The ungodly are not so, but are like chaff which the wind driveth away" - Both of these images refer to the effects of wind. The first describes the transplanting of a tree from rocky, barren soil to deep, rich soil, so that wind will not uproot the tree, but will strengthen it by making it take root. And chaff is separated from wheat by the action of the wind as well. The Book of Psalms is a collection of songs of struggle, sung by righteous men who are afflicted by the "Wind of God". The promise here and throughout the book is that Yahweh will deliver and prosper the righteous, but His Wind will destroy the wicked. (Psalm 11, 23, 142)

"Which bringeth forth his fruit in his season. His leaf shall not wither, and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper." - After trial, the righteous man receives glory to the praise of God. The Book of Psalms describes those trials and battles, but ends in glorious praise of God, with no troubles in sight. (Psalms 145-150)

"Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment" - This is a promise to godly men that the writers shall remember and bring to God frequently. There are many prayers that claim this promise in this book, Psalms that we call imprecatory. This is a promise that God hears those prayers and takes vengeance for His people. (Psalm 35, 58, 69)

"Nor sinners in the congregation of the upright" - There is a congregation of the upright, and righteous men will arrive there. Some of the most beautiful Psalms in the book are in Songs of Ascent, Psalms that pilgrims would pray as they approached Jerusalem for the holy day congregations (Psalms 120-134). "The righteous shall compass me about, for thou shalt deal bountifully with me" (Psalm 142:7)

"For Yahweh knoweth the way of the righteous, but the way of the ungodly shall perish - The Psalm writers were Calvinists, or better to say that Calvin was a Psalmist. When troubles come in the Psalms, they come from the Hand of God (Psalm 88, 89). But Yahweh knows us in our troubles (Psalm 139, 142), and delivers us from them all.

Dealing with Error

2007-09-10T12:14:00.001-04:00

This is my outline from this week's Sunday School class.

"As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him..." - Romans 14:1-15:7

Introduction

We are rightly trying to build a church with an emphasis on sound doctrine. This is a difficult task, as errors are prevalent today. But the task is more complicated than being able to identify error: we must be able to respond in a biblical manner as well. And Paul wants us to learn that there is a deeper right than being right.

Vegetables Only?

Paul takes the Roman Christians aside to discuss a hot topic in the first century- abstaining from certain foods for spiritual reasons. Regardless of the reason for the prohibition, Paul identifies this as the doctrine of demons (I Tim 4:1-3), and says that those who are caught up in it have a weak faith (v. 2). A good minister has the responsibility to stand against it (I Tim 4:6), because it has the power to steer Christians into destruction (I Tim 4:16). This is not a mild academic discussion- souls are in the balance.

Salvation is from God

Calvinists are always subject to the temptation to forget that Calvinism is true. We are not saved by our works, or by our understanding, or anything else we do, say or think. God is in charge of our salvation, and His work is not up for peer review (v4). Being critical of a brethren’s spiritual state is to be critical of God’s work, for He is our master. And He is no perfectionist.

Judging Motives

When we’ve studied a matter out of sincere love for God and come to a conclusion, it’s easy to question the motives of others who come to a different conclusion. Make up your mind, Paul says (v5), but consider other’s motives charitably (v6). We belong to God, and He accepts our sincere works because Christ died (v9). So remember that man judges the outside, but God (alone) judges the heart. And He will judge you (v10).

Where is the Sin?

Ancient Gnostics believed that sin was resident itself in material things; food, wine, sex, etc. Judaizers held the same belief, remembering (wrongly) the Old Testament law.

But we know better- God has made all things for us, and all of them are good (v14). The sin is in our hearts, and comes out in how we use the world. Are you using the world to gratify your fleshly desires for sensual pleasure? How about your desires for the pleasure of quarreling with the brethren? Put it away (v16), and put on love.

The Kingdom of God

The Kingdom of God is not about right opinions, but about peace with God, man, and one’s self (v17). God loves the man who learns to live this way, and so do other people (v18). Pursue it hard, Paul says (v19). Do these three types of peace characterize you? Or are you constantly at war with everyone and everything?

Revolution and Reform

There are two basic ways to react to problems in the world. The first is the way of the revolutionary, who just wants to know who is black and who is white. This has the benefit of instant results, but fighting sin with sin only multiplies sin. The way of the Gospel is reformation, which is patient, longsuffering, and trusting in the Holy Spirit. God is doing a good work in us, but our rashness can destroy it (v20). So mind your own business (v22), and keep your conscience clean (v23). You have an obligation to bear with those who are weak or confused (15:1), just like Christ did (v3). Of course, this takes great patience and endurance, which God will give, especially through the Scriptures (v4,5).

As Christ Has Welcomed You

Paul doesn’t mind repeating himself, and so he urges you again to accept one another as Christ has accepted you (v7). Understanding that Christ has accepted you is the only way carnal man can accept someone else. So has God called you to Himself in peace this morning? Yes He has- so be at peace with each other, and all those God has called. Does God invite you to His table to eat with Him in peace? Yes He does- so be at peace with the others who eat. Does God forgive your sins generously and willingly? Yes He does- so forgive one another.

Night Bugs

2007-09-06T20:15:00.002-04:00

If you've spent any time in your backyard this summer, you've probably noticed how loud it gets right at sunset. (Hopefully it's not because the neighbor's dogs bark all day and night.) Pennsylvania has three common insects that call from ground and tree during the evening (and at times during the day). Try to listen for these:

The Tree Cricket makes the steady trill you'll hear in the background. Sometimes these modulate their call up and down, but it usually has a steady feel like this sample.

The Field Cricket is the more common cricket, one you'll find easily if you turn over rotting logs or compost. These little guys chirp day and night, a "cheep cheep" sound that varies its rate with the outdoor temperature.

The loudest is the Katydid. These grasshopper-like bugs call to one another from the tree tops starting at about sundown. You can hear their name in their call- "Kay-Tee-Did, Kay-Tee-Did" (or sometimes "Kay-Tee-Did-Did-Did").

All of these insects make their sounds by rubbing their legs together vigorously. They don't have the ability to make sounds with their mouths, and their hearing organs are along the edge of their legs. Calls are for mating, and for your backyard hearing pleasure.

Links (with thanks for the sounds and pictures):

Insect Sounds from NatureSounds.com

Sample Sounds of Crickets and Katydids from the University of Florida

Wikipedia

Discerning Dad's Will

2007-07-26T12:35:00.000-04:00

Once upon a time there was a teenager who needed to find his first job. He was just past sixteen, and had struck a deal with parents that involved some cash on his part in exchange for driving privileges. But he, being sixteen, didn't know the first thing about getting job.

And both his mom and dad realized this. So late one night in their bed, mom asked dad, "Are you going to give Richie any help with finding a job?"

Dad was prepared for this. "Yes I am. I think this is a great learning opportunity for him. I'd like to help him in a way that will teach him how to make wise decisions on his own. He'll need to learn how to do that soon, you know."

Mom pulled closer to her husband and rested her head on his chest with a deep "Mmmmm".

"Here's what I have in mind", dad said, encouraged by her touch. "I really want him to work at Agway loading feed. Denny needs some help down there, and Richie would really enjoy it. So that's what he needs to do. If he picks something else, I'm going to be angry with him, take away the driving privileges that we agreed upon, and probably not speak to him until he quits. This is still my house, and although he is sixteen, he's got to obey my rules.

"But here's what I want you to do. If he comes to ask your opinion about it, don't tell him anything. He'll be wondering if it's a good idea to just pick something he likes: let him wonder. He'll probably be thinking that he could cause himself some real problems by picking the wrong place to work: let him think that. He'll be sure that we have a strong opinion about this (which we do), and he'll want to know it. Don't give in: let him wonder and worry and try to figure it out on his own. We need to make this as hard for him to figure out as we can. If he seems like he's going to screw it up and pick something else, don't warn him in anyway. We'll let him know that he chose wrong after the fact, believe you me.

"I really think this can be a great opportunity to let him try and make decisions on his own, a wise lesson he'll carry with him for a long time."

That night, Richie thought for a long time about his decision, and decided the best thing to do would be to ask his dad's opinion over breakfast. But he forgot altogether about asking when he came down early and found his dad still sleeping on the sofa.

A Useful Baseball Guide

2007-07-17T12:48:00.000-04:00

Perhaps you've taken the opportunity this summer to catch a baseball game or two. If that's the case, and you're relatively new to the sport, Bill Simmons has a useful primer on one of the game's best features: the Baseball Brawl.

Birding Expedition

2007-07-04T20:13:00.000-04:00

I had a fun camping trip last night in celebration of a day off work, and this morning I did some hiking and four-wheeling around the Quehanna Wild Area. I wanted to see some new birds, and I got a few. I got pictures of these two, but they just weren't blog quality, so I stole these from usgs.gov.

The first is a very common mountain bird, the Eastern Towhee. This bird is very common along the edges of the forest, so if you ride down the dirts roads in the summer you're very likely to see their distinctive black and white tails flying away from your car. I believe that these are sometimes referred to as the Roufus-Sided Towhee because of the patches under their wings. I got close enough to see a pair: the one you see here is a male. The female has a browner head. The song is distinctive as well: click here for a sample (thanks again USGS).

The other new bird I saw was a Yellow Throated Vireo. I'd never seen a vireo before, although I'd heard them many times- probably every trip to the forest. They are noisy singers, but reclusive treetop birds. For some reason, one of these little yellow guys was down in the mountain laurel today long enough to be observed in the binoculars.

I was also able to use my bird song CD and the USGS website to identify two other bird songs, although I couldn't see either of the birds on this trip. The first was the Whippoorwill, an enthusiastic caller that comes out during the night. The other is another reclusive tree top caller with a very distinctive sound, the Veery. Click on the name to hear a sound sample.

The Man With the Golden Key

2007-06-01T12:27:00.000-04:00

To us he appeared to be indeed the Man with the Golden Key, a magician opening the gates of goblin castles or the sepulchres of dead heroes; and there was no incongruity in calling his lantern a magic-lantern. But all this time he was known to the world, and even the next-door neighbours, as a very reliable and capable though rather unambitious business man. It was a very good first lesson in what is also the last lesson of life; that in everything that matters, the inside is much larger than the outside. On the whole I am glad that he was never an artist. It might have stood in his way in becoming an amateur. It might have spoilt his career; his private career. He could never have made a vulgar success of all the thousand things he did so successfully.

G.K. Chesterton on his father, Autobiography

Dry Bones

2007-04-25T12:09:00.000-04:00

Again he said unto me, prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the LORD. Thus saith the Lord GOD unto these bones; Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live [Ez. 37:4-5]

I believe that this passage provides for us a vivid description of the distinction between the Old Testament and New. I have been hunting for an illustration to describe how I see the difference, and I think this is the best.

The OT, and in particular its religious and liturgical forms, sacraments and laws, can be best be described as a pile of dusty bones. Without a Spirit of life, these bones do nothing but rot. The NT provides that Spirit, so that the bones are able to join together, stand up and come alive. The living being is is as different from (and better than) the pile of dry bones as can be.

What I like about this image though is that the relationship between the two is as much a continuity as it is a contrast. The Spirit does not come so that the bones of the OT are no longer necessary. In fact, the bones are as crucial to the living being as the Spirit of life is.

The great sin of the New Testament is to desire to go back to a time when all we had was dusty bones. This obviously will not do. The corresponding danger is to hate the bones and want to get rid of them. This will not do either.

Psalm 37 Outline

2007-03-04T16:01:00.001-05:00

I got to teach Sunday School this morning at church, and this is my outline.

Psalm 37

"Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou envious against the workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like grass, and wither as the green herb..." Psalm 37:1-40

Introduction

Two persistent temptations plague the righteous. The first is the temptation to envy the wicked for their apparent success. The second is like it, and is the temptation to shrink back from God's promises because of the trials we see the righteous going through. Not surprisingly, these two temptations are both the result of the same spiritual short-sightedness- the failure to consider the way of the righteous and the wicked in their entireties. To put it another way, these temptations come when we fail to see and understand the story that God is writing.

The Temptation to Envy

One of the strongest temptations the righteous can have is to see the apparent success of the wicked and envy. All around us, the wicked prosper and succeed in evil schemes. So you might be tempted to ask yourself, "Why bother with the difficulties of righteousness? What good is my righteousness doing me?" But when we learn to step back and take the long view of things, it all comes into perspective. Evildoers will be cut off and will be no more. God fattens them up, then cuts them down.

And this can all be understood if you think of it as story. In good stories, the bad guys are strong. Weak bad guys are no fun. In good stories, you have to keep reading to find out how it's going to end up. One chapter stories are no fun. In good stories, things look bleak and hopeless at times for the good guys. Easy stories are no fun. And in good stories, the good guys win. Postmodern stories are no fun, unless you’re on the wrong side.

The Temptation to Shrink Back

The second temptation addressed here is just as much a snare for us. This is the temptation to shrink back from God’s promises. The devil whispers to us "Did God really say that He would give you a glorious ending to your story?" And you ought to remember that line from another story. So answer him this way: those that wait upon the Lord shall inherit the earth. In a similar way, God promises you the desires of your heart, establishment and peace, public vindication, abundant prosperity, and deliverance from all your trials. And in case you missed it, He will exalt you to inherit the earth.

Now of course these are not automatic promises- they’re for the meek. So what is meekness? Meekness is characterized by a refusal to worry, envy, and get angry. It is characterized by a joyful patience, rejoicing, by good works and generosity, graciousness, peacefulness and justice. And most importantly, it is characterized by a deep and abiding trust that God will deliver His people. The meek man refuses to listen to the devil, and trusts that God has a good ending for his story.

A Word on Authorship

I've tried to show you to this point how we're in a story, and it goes without saying that a story (at least a good story) has to have an Author. And accepting this means nothing less that full-fledged Calvinism. Don't get caught on the word if it's a problem, but remember that if you don't have an Author who's putting together all the details, then you’re stuck in a "tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Or so said some fictional character.

So keep this in mind when your trials and struggles come. God sends you trials because He wants you to learn how stories work. And that means accepting the plot twists He gives you now in thankfulness. It means putting aside anger towards Him and His story. It means quitting your worrying and frantic working to try to fix things. It means joyfulness and resting, even in the dark times. And all these things are possible only if you remember that wherever your at now, its not the end of the story.

Plot Devices

God stories also have a number of recurring themes that He loves to use. We call these plot devices. A plot device is a person or object introduced into the story by the author to keep you interested in the story until the climax. And God has a few favorites. He loves rags-to-riches stories (v. 16). Or as Jesus put it, blessed are the poor, for yours is the Kingdom of God. He loves happy endings (v. 4-5). Stories with happy endings are traditional stories, and they are also godly stories. God loves to catch the wicked in the trap that they have laid for the righteous (v. 15). This was the downfall of wicked Haman, and Satan himself. And in every story God tells, things look bad until He shows up at the end to work the miraculous deliverance (v. 40). You've heard that God wants to get all the glory; this is how He does it- by saving you.

Knowing Your Place in the Story

By default, we all see ourselves as protagonists in our own stories. You can always arrange the facts of the story you're in to suit your own conclusions. But part of the Spirit's work in our lives is learning how to see ourselves in relation to the story God is writing. So use this Psalm as a diagnostic tool for your lives- are you the kind of character that readers rejoice to see saved at the end of the story? Are you the kind of character that makes the reader slap his forehead in consternation? Or are you the kind of character that the protagonist is rescued from in the conclusion?

The Secret Places of Sinnemahoning

2007-03-03T18:43:00.000-05:00

From Pete Bennett's homepage, The Secret Places of Sinnemahoning:

Another place that mystified me was “Turtle Rock”. Now you may think I have rocks somewhere up there, but there is a large rock that is located up in Grove Run that has a large turtle carved upon it. Now you’ll forget the rocks you think I have, when I tell you that the international sign for buried treasure is a turtle carved on a rock. Every treasure hunter such as myself knows that! It is said that the head of the turtle was supposed to point to the treasure. Well, I’ll tell you one thing right now, it’s not pointing at the gold bars buried in Hicks Run! Darn thing faces the wrong way! Looks to me like it might be pointing at Kentucky. Fort Knox, KY maybe!

Sticking with the rocks, there is a place up in Ellicotts Run that’s known as “Visal’s Cave”. Ever heard of it? Well, this one takes a lot of imagination too. It’s said that back in the olden days there was a hermit, named Visal who, had a long beard and lived in the cave which was located between two large rocks up there. He only was seen occasionally, out gathering food and water. Now! Try your imagination out again and imagine why old Visal wasn’t seen too often was because he slept a lot. I’m telling you, I’ve seen this cave! I’ve been there. It seemed we all started seeing him after we read that book, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”. Now that I’ve said that your not going to believe there’s really a place called Visal’s Cave. Right? All I can say is to ask anyone who’s lived or lives there. Go ahead, ask me!

Central Pennsylvania Travelogue: Fields Run Trail

2007-01-06T20:09:00.002-05:00

Name: Fields Run Trail
Location: Sproul State Forest, Centre County, Pennsylvania
Date: Saturday, December 30, 2006
Click on any of the pictures for a closeup.

Between Karthaus in Clearfield County and Renovo in Clinton County, a number of streams drain the highlands of the Allegheny Plateau into the West Branch of the Susquehanna River. These streams start from springs in the rocks at the top of the plateau and then fall over 1300 feet to the river through gorgeous canyons. The rugged terrain makes access very difficult, making these stream beds excellent places for a wilderness hike.

One of those streams is Fields Run. Falling to the West Branch on its southeastern shore from Centre County, Fields Run starts near SR 144 in Burnside Township, and falls approximately 1400 feet to the West Branch near the ghost town of Birch. It is paralleled by the Fields Run Trail, an old logging road cleared near the turn of the century. The trail is completely unmarked, and almost completely overgrown for the first 1.5 miles. Later, it provides access for a number of small camps and cabins and shows signs of occasional vehicular use.

The stream is small for the first mile an a half, winding through intermittent patches of mountain laurel and hemlocks. This is excellent territory to find the Ruffed Grouse, the official bird of Pennsylvania. This game bird is about the size of a chicken and dwells on the ground, eating berries, seeds and insects. They can fly with great speed and take off at the last moment, surprising the unwary hunter with the rush of their wings. This headwater area of Fields Run is also the most likely place to see the whitetail deer or a wild turkey. I once came face to face with a Great Horned Owl in a tight patch of pines here.

After the first mile and a half, the trail widens and meets another coming from the top of the ridge. Here is the first camp along the trail, the Fields Run Camp. This is the prototypical Pennsylvania hunting cabin, approximately fifteen feet square, with outhouse and deer pole. Directly below this camp, and picture to the right are the remains of an old splash dam, a logger's contraption designed to float a timber harvest to the river by flooding a small valley and "splashing" the logs downstream. The old dam and the logging trail in the creek bottom are the only remaining signs that logging ever took place here.

From here, the path drops another 1100 feet over five miles as the valley sides get higher and steeper. Large boulders like the one on the left jut from the hillside, and cracks behind them and along the cliffs run back into the mountainsides. Who knows, perhaps there are even larger cave openings higher up the valleyside. Meanwhile, the stream gets larger and larger, being fed by several small drafts along the way, including Bog Ore Run, Burnt Shanty Run and Gaines Run. Tannic acid from leaves in the headwaters gives the stream a dusky color and reflects beautifully at times over the loose stony stream bottom.

At six miles on the trail, the stream bottom opens up for half a mile before meeting the West Branch. The Gaines Trail drops down from Fields Ridge Road on the western ridge to several camps at the mouth of the creek. The Gaines Trail Camp, pictured here, sits on small piece of private property at the stream's mouth, accessible from the Gaines Trail via four wheel drive. The Gaines Trail leads back to the top of the ridge and the Fields Ridge Road, which provides a beautiful overlook of the river, facing to the west.

The river cuts quite a gorge in this section as well. Here you can see the mouth of Fields Run and Yost Ridge, the eastern wall of the Fields Run Valley. This segment of the river is excellent for a canoe trip, with access points upstream in Karthaus and Rolling Stone and downstream in Keating and Renovo. Between Karthaus and Keating the river is only accessible by road or trail in a half dozen spots, making for a very lonely journey.

Lost Indian Silver Mine

2006-12-30T21:38:00.000-05:00

In the spring of 1825, a man by the name of J.T. Groves was visiting the cabin of Thomas Burns when a party of four Indians stopped to trade their canoes for food, picks and shovels.

As the Indians proceeded on foot up stream, Burns watched and grinned. He knew that he had gotten the better of the deal.

Several days later, the four Indians returned to Burns' cabin to buy back their canoes. He and Groves were even more surprised with this trade than the first. The Indians had offered a small bag of silver ore for their canoes and food and lodging for the night.

The Indians had several more heavily laden sacks in their possession. While the Indians were asleep, Groves checked their sacks and found them filled with silver ore of a very high quality.

In the morning, the Indians were long-gone before Burns and Groves awoke, but Groves was one of the best trackers in the county. He took their tracks up the Susquehanna River as far as Birch Island Run. It was there that he lost the trail, when the tracks led into the river.

He searched the riverbanks on both sides without success. He searched the river for miles. He even went up Birch Island Run until it was too dark to see.

There were no tracks leading out of the river, and at that time of year, the Susquehanna was too low and difficult to pole a canoe upstream. The Indians did a good job hiding their trail from the tracker.

A few years later, Groves returned to the same area with his son and searched from Birch Island to Spruce Run. They even went up Moores Run, Bougher Run and the Little Bougher Run, but they were unsuccessful at discovering any trace of the Indian Silver Mine.

From Legends of Clearfield County by Melvin G. Lingle, published by the author, 2004.

A Typical Hoover

2006-12-04T14:02:00.001-05:00

From the preface to the Huber-Hoover History, this helpful photo:

Now That's a Good Question

2006-12-04T13:57:00.000-05:00

The doctrine of accommodation (which is rife in the tradition, as basic to Thomas as to Calvin) says: When God speaks in His natural voice, He speaks like a philosopher. He speaks like a poet in Scripture because He's dumbing it down for humans imprisoned in a sensible world.

Scripture, however, indicates that God's natural voice is that of a poet.

If Scripture speaks in poetry rather than philosophy, how could anyone have ever discovered that God's natural voice is philosophical?

Dr. Peter Leithart, Philosopher or Poet

The Cremation of Sam McGee

2006-11-23T19:54:00.000-05:00

Check out this reading of Robert Service's The Cremation of Sam McGee. Sorry about the link- the owner of the video turned off the embedding feature.

More on Robert Service here. His poetry is indexed here. My favorite is The Ballad of the Northern Lights. Enjoy!

Cannonball Rag!

2006-10-12T12:09:00.000-04:00

So I was searching YouTube today at lunch for the great Merle Travis piece Cannonball Rag, and I found this guy named Tommy Emmanuel playing it. Unbelievable! I'll admit I'd never heard of him before, but apparently I should have. Check out the Beatles bits he does on there too.

Death and Resurrection in Acts 12

2006-08-30T20:44:00.001-04:00

There is a great deal of death and resurrection imagery (evoking the Passion of Christ) in Acts 12. If you're not familiar, this is the story of Peter's imprisonment under Herod and subsequent angelic escape. Here's some of the images I noticed. Some are tenuous, and some are very clear. In chronological order:

James is put death by the sword before Peter is arrested. This is reminiscent of John the Baptist, especially since it's a Herod doing the executing both times.

The arrest takes place at the time of the Passover.

Peter is thrown into a dungeon, which was probably underground. This reminds one of the cave Jesus was laid in. Also, a guard of soldiers was set outside.

An angel is present. In this story, it is to rescue Peter. In the Passion story, it is to notify the disciples about the Resurrection.

That angel strikes Peter in the side. Jesus was struck in the side as well.

After Peter escapes, the first person he meets is a woman. There is confusion as to his identity, and whether or not he is actually alive.

So I think there's connections enough to make me think that Luke is trying to evoke Jesus' Passion in describing this episode. Why? Here are some thoughts/applications:

Peter practically disappears from the story of Acts at this point. After a cursory search, I was not able to find any references to Peter in the rest of the book. The narrative immediately switches to Paul as the main character, and even omits references to Peter when you think it most likely (the first Church Council in Acts 15). This reminds us then of the Ascension of Christ, when he removes Himself bodily from the actions of His Church, sending instead His Spirit. Also, as He ascends into Heaven, the mission of the Church switches from being based in Israel alone and goes to the ends of the earth. This occurs immediately after in Acts 13 with the first Gentile mission.

The tyrant that sought to put Peter to death winds up dying himself. So it was with Christ, as Satan sought to put the Son of God to death, but wound up having his head crushed in the process. The death of the saints is very powerful. Another way to say this is that the wicked will fall in the pit that they have dug for the righteous (Psalm 35).

Peter's death and resurrection results in the preaching of the word of God. It continues to grow and is multiplied (12:24). The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.

Blue Marble Sky (a Recipe)

2006-08-30T20:43:00.000-04:00

One-half moon, white.
 Three cups stirred cumulus clouds.
 One cup snow.
 Fresh wind.
 Two pinches stars.
 One Earth.

Refridgerate Earth in snow marinade, 
 (With pinch of salt to taste).
In separate bowl, mix cumulus clouds 
 A pinch of stars,
 And wind.
 Mix vigorously.
Bake Moon to fully risen,
 Taking care not to overdo.
Spread cloud sauce unevenly on Earth.
Top chilled Earth with Moon, 
 And stars to taste.
Serve chilled.

Serves one.

Samson Agonistes

2006-08-23T08:03:00.001-04:00

Ogden Nash

I test my bath before I sit,
And I'm always moved to wonderment
That what chills the finger not a bit
Is so frigid upon the fundament.

Mind Control

2006-08-17T12:24:00.000-04:00

Laugh, because the devil wants you take everything seriously. Go here, because the government wants to control your mind.

Touche!

2006-08-17T09:27:00.000-04:00

For though to-day is always to-day and the moment is always modern, we are the only men in all history who fell back upon bragging about the mere fact that to-day is not yesterday. I fear that some in the future will explain it by saying that we had precious little else to brag about. For, whatever the medieval faults, they went with one merit. Medieval people never worried about being medieval; and modern people do worry horribly about being modern.

G. K. Chesterton, On Turnpikes and Medievalism

Pottersdale

2006-07-29T20:12:00.000-04:00

If you ask Google about "Pottersdale, PA",
You'll see results one to ten of
Eighty one thousand.

He'll tell you about the local talent scene,
Find singles, or a roommate, 
Or check the weather.  
Ballroom dancing lessons, 
Hotel rooms and lawyers, 
New car dealerships and 
Web design.

Google does not know,
That Pottersdale has only twenty year-round residents,
And its only operating business
Is Pete's Excavating, Logging, 
Scrap Metal, Small Engine Repair,
And Salvage.

No one told him
That Pottersdale has no restaurants,
Or post office, or store.
That there is only one blacktop road,
And only three permanently constructed homes.

Google has no knowledge about strip mines, 
Or mobile homes.
He knows nothing of township roads,
Or endless rows of neatly lined
Pine trees.

Ye of Little Faith

2006-07-14T12:34:00.000-04:00

And when he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him. And, behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves: but he was asleep. And his disciples came to him, and awoke him, saying, Lord, save us: we perish. And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm. Matthew 8:23-26

How is it that the disciples have little faith, when they cry to Jesus to save them? The disciples in question probably would have counted among their number at least three professional fisherman (and boat-handlers), and Jesus' trade as carpenter and preacher probably didn't offer much at the moment. Yet they clearly have some faith that he can save them. Is it faithless to ask Jesus for help?

Now compare a passage just prior:

And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand: And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it. Matthew 7:26-27

When the winds came and beat upon them, and the rain descended and the floods came, the disciples were afraid, ignoring what Jesus had said about His own teaching. How good would it be for others if His house would fall when the winds came? And so we see how the disciples do not yet believe, for they do not take Jesus at His word.

Central Pennsylvania Travelogue: Jerry Ridge

2006-07-12T06:19:00.001-04:00

Name: Jerry Ridge Overlook
Location: Sproul State Forest, Clinton County, Pennsylvania
Date: Saturday, July 8, 2006
Click on any of the pictures for a closeup.

West Central Pennsylvania is dominated geographically by a landform known as the Allegheny Plateau. This plateau rises slowly from the west, starting near the Ohio border, and terminates in the Allegheny Front, a bold escarpment separating the lower ridge-and-valley province of the Allegheny Mountains from the higher plateau. In Clearfield County, another escarpment divides the plateau itself into the lower Pittsburgh Plateau and the Allegheny High Plateau in the north. And it's the geography of the Allegheny High Plateau that provides these beautiful scenes.

If you take the Quehanna Highway from Clearfield, you will find the Three Runs Road (just past the town of Piper), a dirt road winding into the woods of the Sproul State Forest. Now you may think you're lost, but relax- it's just the wilds of Central Pennsylvania. You'll pass a hunting camp or two, but there's no permanent habitations here in the Quehanna Wild Area, a 48000 acre wilderness area sectioned off by the state for old growth protection. The Wild Area contains large stands of old-growth timber, hundred acres tracts of white birch, and more mountain laurel than you can imagine. The Quehanna Wild Area is also home to a large population of bear, deer, bobcats, and the favorite of most tourists: the Rocky Mountain Elk. Here the elk herd is thin, and the animals are much more wary than their counterparts in Benezette. This bull elk, seen to the right, was spotted for three straight years on the Three Runs Road, and in 2004 had eight points on each antler, giving it the designation of Monarch. A rare sight indeed.

After about four miles on the Three Runs Road (named after three small streams that flow into the West Branch of the Susquehanna River and find their headwaters here), you'll find yourself on the Dutchman's Road. Keep going, and the Jerry Ridge Road will leave to the left. This road runs out along Jerry Ridge, a finger of the Allegheny High Plateau stretching between Lower Jerry Run and Round Island Run (featuring Three Falls, pictured on the left). The valley to the west contains the Lower Jerry Run Natural Area, a remote preservation area for old growth hemlock and birch trees, accessible only by foot.

The Allegheny High Plateau is known as a dissected plateau, meaning that streams and rivers have cut deep valleys into the level of the plateau, resulting in scenic canyons and gorges. And at the end of the Jerry Ridge Road you'll find the canyon of one the most scenic streams in Pennsylvania: the Sinnemahoning Creek. This sizable river draws water from Clearfield County and the Penfield area via the Bennett Branch, from Cameron County and Emporium via the Driftwood Branch, and from Potter County in the north via the First Fork. And all three branches combine upstream from the Jerry Run overlook to produces some of the highest riverbank cliffs in Pennsylvania. To the right you can see the Sinnemahoning at the feet of the Jerry Ridge.

Many of the edges of the High Plateau along the Sinnemahoning Valley provide fantastic views of the gorge. Besides this overlook of Montour Run on the Jerry Ridge, overlooks are accessible on Wyckoff Ridge, Mason Hill, Round Island Ridge, and the Keating Mountain (where the Sinnemahoning joins the West Branch). Many of these spots are remote and difficult to access, but the hike is always worth it. Jerry Ridge Road, however, is just a short hike away from three beautiful vistas of the Sinnemahoning Valley, making it the easiest trip to view the Sinnemahoning Gorge.

For more information or directions, you can obtain an official map of the Moshannon State Forest and Quehanna Wild Area from the State Forest offices at Parker Dam State Park or in the forest itself.

Nature's Promises

2006-03-04T20:26:00.000-05:00

"I think modern people have somehow got their minds all wrong about human life. They seem to expect what Nature has not promised; and then they try to ruin all that Nature has really given."

G.K. Chesterton, The Flying Inn

A Football Parable

2006-02-25T19:29:00.001-05:00

Once there was a boy named Andrew who played football for his high school football team. He played wide receiver, and was quite talented at it. He had good hands and was very quick. No one on his team, or on most of the others, could defend against him effectively. But he was cocky and proud. This caused him many problems, like when he would try to make an easy catch look more difficult than it should.

And that's what happened one day in practice. His coach had just worked the players through a new play that had big potential, but when Andrew got open and tried to make a one-handed catch, of course he dropped it right on the ground.

But instead of scolding Andrew , the coach looked at the quarterback, and asked him why the play didn't work. "You saw it- Andrew tried to catch it with one hand and look good and he dropped it!" The annoyance in his voice was evident. For all his good catches, Andrew had bungled quite a few easy ones. But this time the coach looked the quarterback in the eye and said, before all the other boys, "Now I want you to listen. You, as the quarterback, own this offense. And if a play doesn't work, you are responsible. There will be no blaming anyone. Do you understand me?"

The boy looked sheepish, and said "Yes, sir". He felt about two feet tall, knowing that all his teammates in the huddle were staring at him. Andrew, however, though this was great. "Ha!" he said with a loud guffaw. He dug his elbow into the quarterback's ribs and said "That's right, you're responsible!" The quarterback looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. But he kept quiet.

So coach announced to the boys the next play they would practice. It involved both Andrew and the quarterback running to their right before the throw. They had used this multiple times, in practice and in games, and it was a favorite because Andrew was always able to get free and score. The coach read the assignments, then sent the boys out to their positions, keeping the quarterback just briefly for a private word.

And when the snap came, and Andrew broke out quickly, giving his favorite fake move, he found himself open by five yards or more, right there in the endzone. He turned to wait for the ball, thinking about how he would rub it in to the poor boy assigned to cover him. But with his arm up ready to throw, suddenly the quarterback pulled the ball down and started running, and was tackled after about two yards.

Andrew was livid. "What are you doing?" he screamed. "Couldn't you see me standing there, wide open?" But his quarterback said nothing. He looked to the coach for help. Coach just nodded. "Good," he said. "Let's huddle up again."

But Andrew wasn't satisfied. "What do you mean 'Good'? He only got two yards, and I was standing wide open the end zone! Didn't you say that he was responsible for this offense? How can you let him go with that?"

The coach just smiled. "I told him to do that. You see, he is responsible to run this offense. But he is responsible to me, and he is responsible to do the job that I have assigned him- to get yards. If he has to answer to me before all his teammates for your mistakes, do you think he's ever going to throw you the ball again?"

First Job

2006-02-09T19:40:00.001-05:00

Once there was a man with three sons. This man was a godly man, who sought not only to teach his sons the right way to go, but to bless them and bestow upon them. He had worked hard to provide them with good things above and beyond what they needed.

Now these three boys were close in age, and so when they approached their teen years, he announced to them that they were old enough now to work outside the home and earn a paycheck. His brother was a successful businessman, he explained, and had volunteered to provide the boys with a minimum-wage paycheck in return for simple work around his warehouse. And so the father told the young men that they would be going to work on Monday for their uncle for a few hours after school. He wanted to teach them to work hard, but he also wanted them to have more money than what he could give them on allowance. He told them that after their tithe, they would be able to do with their paychecks whatever they wanted.

Now Monday came and went, and by eight o'clock in the evening the three boys came home to their eager and proud parents. "How did it go at the warehouse today?", asked their mother. She couldn't wait to hear.

The youngest son spoke up first, as he was wont to do. "I hate it! I don't know why you've made me get a job. I wished I was home the whole time."

Now his mother knew how this son thought, and also the godly character of their uncle. She didn't think it could have been that bad. But she was wise and godly too. "What was wrong with working, honey?" she asked.

"I hated it. I couldn't do anything right, and I got tired and couldn't sit down, and Uncle Bill kept telling me to do things that I didn't want to. I can't think of why you want me to leave the house and get a job." Now his reaction was much stronger than usual- his parents could tell that he was very angry. He was fairly screaming now. "Why do you hate me so much? Why do you want me to leave home just to be unhappy?"

Now his father was getting very angry at this. But he knew his frame and collected himself. But before he could even speak, his eldest son pointed his finger in the youngest's face and shouted right back at him. "Don't you even say that! You watch your mouth! Don't you know that this family is about what Dad wants, not you? All you can think about is your miserable self. If Dad wants us to go to work and be miserable, then you better learn to like it!"

"Don't you point your finger in my face!", the younger boy came back, voice just as loud. They were ready to come to blows. But Dad quickly stepped in between them and put a hand on each of their chests. He wasn't angry any more, but his countenance was definitely not pleased. But he had an idea.

"I've heard from each of you- now what do you say? What did you think of working at the warehouse?" He spoke to his middle son, who just stood there looking quite perplexed.

"Oh, I thought it was OK. It was kind of hard, and some of the jobs that Uncle Bill gave me wore me out. I was glad when it was time to go home. But I was thinking about my paycheck- Uncle Bill said we're going to get paid on Friday, and it should be about $70. I think I'd like to save for a couple of weeks and get a new bike."

It might have been an illusion, but it seemed to him as he spoke, that Dad's frown lightened a bit. "I want you to go outside for a moment", said Dad to the middle son. And when he was gone, Dad gave the other two quite a licking, until they repented with tears and supplications.

The Robin

2006-02-07T20:25:00.000-05:00

The robin is

God's poem

With

A very irregular

Meter.

Under the River

2005-11-27T20:41:00.001-05:00

Somewhere out on the mountain, out beyond Zion and Goshen and Eden, you can go for a walk in the forest. Actually, you can go for a walk in a lot of places out there, but the place I am talking about is a special one. You’ll need to take a ride on the dirt roads, out on the McGeorge Road and onto the Caledonia Pike, and then keep going for a while. That’s the top of the mountain out there. You know this because you can hear the mountain wind blowing, and you can see the mountain birds in the trees if you look quick- the Verio and the Indigo Bunting and maybe even a Tanager.

Well, if you go out there far enough and turn off onto the right trail, soon you’ll come to some rocks- two huge rocks set back from the road, bigger than our house. You can walk on top of them, or crawl underneath them, or walk around them, but what’s most interesting is what’s between them. If you find the front of the rocks and look hard, you’ll see a path that runs between them, and then off into the woods. I know this because I found the rocks once, and then found the path. And of course I took it. I walked and walked, all through the morning and into the afternoon.

Now as I walked along, I started to notice that I was going downhill. I could tell this because the ground on either side of my path started to get ever so slightly higher. At first it was hardly anything at all, but soon there were real hills to my left and right. When I looked behind or in front, I couldn’t tell that I had come downhill at all. But those hills seemed to close me in like a big hug.

So I walked some more, and before I had even gone an hour, I found something new. It was water bubbling up from under a rock, right out of the ground- a spring. And this water turned into a nice little brook that flowed right alongside the path on ahead. Now there was no doubt that I was going downhill. Where the water came out the hills on the side looked taller than ever. And so I kept walking.

Now I don’t know if you’ve ever followed one of these little streams in a mountain valley, but they’re very tricky. One minute you’ll see just a little trickle of water, and before you know it the stream will be a foot deep and ten feet wide. That’s what happened here. I didn’t see any other streams coming in, but before I had walked much further at all, the stream was roaring along beside me. I even saw some trout in the water (when I held still), and once I saw some beaver chewings on the bank. There were boulders laying next to the path, and the little stream fell down over waterfalls and into pools, under logs and over rocks and sandy banks.

Now all these little streams from the mountain flow down into the river. They’ll just flow and flow until they come to the bottom of the mountain, and at the bottom of the mountain is the river. Maybe they’ll meet up with some other streams before, or run into a little lake and out the other side, but sooner or later they all wind up in the river. Now I know the river pretty well because I have looked often at the map, and I know all the streams that come into it from the mountain. In Curwensville there’s Anderson, and then Hartshorn, Montgomery and Moose Creek in Clearfield. Beyond that there’s Lick Run, Trout, Surveyor, Deer Creek, Sandy, Mosquito, Saltlick, Upper and Lower Three Runs, Birch Island, and then the great Sinnemahoning. I guessed that I was on the Mosquito Creek, or maybe Trout Run. So I decided that I’d walk down to the river and figure out in where I was. It’s always good to find the river.

And so I walked on. The little hills to my left and right got taller and taller above me, so that I couldn’t see the sun anymore, although I could see it glowing on the branches on the trees above, and I could see the blue sky above me. Still the little brook chattered on. So I kept to my path, and where a little trickle of water ran off the hillside, I found a bridge. And across the bridge was a little hut.

This was just a tiny thing, not much bigger than your bedroom. It was made of flat stones pasted together with mud. Moss had grown up on its stones in the front and one the sides, and the back was actually covered up with some stones and dirt that had fallen from the cliff. There was one small dark window in the front, and another on the side that had been broken out long ago. It had a big white door with an old black letter "W" painted on it, and an old rusty metal handle to open with. The roof was made with old shingles that mostly had fallen off, and there was a little chimney in the back, made out of stones just like the walls. And from the chimney came some smoke.

Now this was very exciting to me. I had walked a long way, and was a little tired. I hadn’t seen any person, or even a sign of a person, since I left the road and my truck above. So I knocked on the door of the little hut.

"Anybody home? Open up!"

And would you know it, but just as I finished banging I heard a scrape, and a creak, and the door opened. And I saw the littlest and oldest man I ever saw in my life. His face with wrinkled like a newspaper. He had just a few white hairs on the top of his head. He was so bent over that he had to turn his head up just to see my face. And on his face he had a great warm smile.

"Hello lad! What brings ye out here to my little hut?"

"Well, I found this little path on top of the mountain this very morning, and decided to follow it. First I came down into this valley, and then I found this little creek, and then I found your cabin. I want to keep going and find the river at the bottom. How far is it to the river?"

Now the old man’s big grin got even bigger, and his old eyes twinkled with delight. "This creek doesn’t run to the river, my boy. It doesn’t get into the river, you see, because it runs under the river."

Now this was just silly. "You old fool," I said. "There’s no such thing as under the river. You’re just teasing. I’m going to go on and find the river and figure out which creek this is."

"I’ll tell you which creek this is- it’s called the Lost Run. Don’t look on the map, because it’s not there. But I’m telling you, it runs under the river and on beyond to the other side."

"I don’t believe you. I don’t think you’re telling me the truth."

"Well, don’t believe me. If you don’t believe me about that though, you’ll never believe me about what you find after you pass to the other side."

"You’re right," I said. "I won’t believe you. I’m leaving."

And I left. I stormed right out of there, hotter than a tea kettle. I walked back out to the little trail, and the bridge where I left it and I turned my face down the valley, determined to find that river at any cost. And so I walked.

Now I was a little heated, and had forgotten a good rule about walking in the woods- to remember what time it is and when you must turn around by. And so, before I had got very far, it started to get very dark. I kept going and going though, until I couldn’t see a thin. Bythis time I wasn’t so hot any more from being mad. In fact, I was rather cold. So I stopped where I was, set about to gather up some sticks, and built myself a little fire to keep warm. And before you know it, I was fast asleep.

I must have slept for a very long time, because when I woke up, the sun was up again, and I could see around myself again. There was the little creek, just like I had followed it all day yesterday. It was deep now, so deep that I don’t think I could walk across it. The boulders were bigger than ever, and the cliffs steeper than any I had ever seen. And they towered up so high that it seemed like they were closer at the top than at the bottom. There was just a little crack of blue sky way above me.

So after I had a nice wash in the creek, and a good drink of that creek water (it was very clear and very cool and very refreshing water), I started to walk again. Now I wasn’t very mad at that old man any more, but I hadn’t come this far to turn around with finding the river and figuring out where I was. So down the valley I went.

And this day turned out to be very much like that last one. I kept going all morning, down and down the little valley. The creek turned first to the left, then to the right, and then back again, around big boulders fallen off the cliffs. Here and there little creeks fell off the hillsides in long waterfalls into the Lost Run, making a loud rushing sound that echoed loudly. And all along the way, that little crack of sunlight up above got thinner and thinner as the mountain top got higher and higher above me. I watched it very much as I walked, as it directed me along the path of my creek.

And before long something very strange happened to that little crack of sky- it went away. I could see right up the slopes of the cliffs, past some thin hemlock trees clinging to the sides, where rocks jutted out over me. But all the way up at the top the sides came together to touch, just letting in the light in a few places here and there.

Now this was terribly exciting to me. I immediately realized that the old man had told me the truth- that this little valley must just flow into a sort of cave, and that it could then run right beneath the river! I didn’t know how I would know when I had come beneath the river, but I had to find out. So I rushed on, walking as fast as I could. I don’t know how long I walked, although it must have been for hours. The funny thing down here was, although I could only see blue sky in a few places up above me (these must have been like little caves in the ground above), it was still bright like day time down here. And the little path kept going on and on, with the creek right beside it.

I had lost sight of the sky altogether for a good time when another remarkable thing happened. It started to rain! At first I just felt a few drops, but then it was coming down all around me in big, heavy drops. There was no clouds, no sky, and no wind- it was like the rain was coming right out of the rocks! And as I kept going it rained harder and harder. I don’t know if you’ve ever been out in the rain in March in your boots and coat, but it’s a miserable thing. And I was miserable. So I turned around and headed back as fast as I could, to see if the rain would pass.

And wouldn’t you know it, just up around the bend where the rain had started, it stopped again. I sat down on a log by a little rock ledge to rest for a moment and get dry. I could hear the rain coming down below me, and I thought a rock ledge would do me good. But it didn’t come up, but just kept raining down below.

And then I knew what that rain was. I looked up at the rocks way above my head, and I could see big flat brown rocks in the roof of my little cave. Now I don’t know if you’ve looked flat brown rocks like these, but there’s only one place you find them, and that’s in the river. They’re flat and smooth and sort of muddy, and they have little cracks that run through them, ever so thin. And that’s the sort of rocks that were up there above me. So I turned back into the rain, and looked up, and would you believe it? The rain coming down was not rain at all, but water from the river, slipping down between the cracks in the brown river stone. I was beneath the river!

This was more than I could take. I couldn’t wait to go beyond it and see what there was to see. So I ran down into the river rain, sprinting along the little path as I got wetter and wetter. This was the greatest adventure of my life! I ran past where I had stopped and around a new bend to the left. The rain came down so hard that I could hardly see ahead of me. I had to keep with the path and the stream on my right. I was running I was so excited.

And just around that bend I saw some bright lights. They were hanging on the sides of the hillsides above me, lined up like streetlights. I could not make out what they came from though, because of how thick the rain was. And there was a noise like music that I could just barely hear above the roar of the creek and the rain.

But I had to pull up and stop, because the rain came down so hard here that it flooded my path, and a deep pool of water backed up behind a log that was laying across the path. I only hesitated a moment before I jumped right into that pool, boots and coat and all. And it was deeper than I thought. My feet didn’t touch the bottom, and the current caught me up and took me right towards that log.

And all I could do was struggle with all my might to swim. I kicked and kicked, and just before it seemed like my head would go over, I got hold of the rocks from where I had jumped in and pulled myself back out onto the ground, rain coming down all around.

Now I hadn’t thought of it for all the adventures, but I had been walking for two days now without any stops, and most importantly without anything to eat. I was very hungry and very tired, and I knew that I couldn’t get across that pool to the other side to keep going. I sat and looked at those lights up above me, and strained to hear those sounds coming from them, and I felt very sad. But I knew that this was the end. I had to turn around and go back.

So I turned back, headed back up the path towards the little hut, the little old man, and my car. For the first time that little stream was on my left, and it was running away to where I had not been. I trudged up that hill, back past where the river rain started, and before long I could see patches of sunshine up above me, and then the thin strip of sky, and then the old man’s little hut. I banged on the door, and there he was.

"You again? Did ye find your river?"

I just slumped my shoulders and looked him. I didn’t know what to say to him. Besides, I was all wore out.

"Well, you better get in here and get out of your wet clothes and have a bite to eat." And that’s what I did. He had a nice fire going that was keeping the place warm, and had some stale bread and apples there that he gave me. It could have been steak and chocolate cake for all I knew, I was so hungry. I gobbled it all up and felt so much better. I told the old man about how I found the river, and tried to get through, and had to turn around.

"Well, that’s just the way it goes. You best be better prepared next time you try such a long walk," he said.

"I sure know it now. And better to listen to good advice when you get it!" I exclaimed. But then I had to ask. "Just one thing though. You said that there was something beyond the river, underneath it. And I saw the lights and heard that music. What is down there? What was that?"

The old man just grinned. "Ah, that’s the secret now, isn’t it? And I’m not going to tell ye. If I told you about simple things like where to find the river, and you wouldn’t believe me, how would you believe me if I told you about something so mysterious as what’s beyond under the river?"

And try as I could, I couldn’t get him to tell me what it was. So I left him. I thought for a moment about turning down the valley again, but I got the feeling that he wouldn’t be so accomodating a second time around. And he was right- I needed to be better prepared. So I set out up the valley, on the way back to my truck. The blue sky above started to change colors, like it does when the sun sets. The mountain cliffs turned dark and the path got hard to find. Yet it seemed to get brighter as I walked. And that was because, as I came out of the valley, the moon came up higher and higher and lighted up my path ahead of me. And it seemed like just an hour or so when I saw the moon herself, shining at me over a hillside that wasn’t very high at all. It lit up the trees around me, and the little creek, and the hillsides beside me. And before long those hillsides were gone, and there were those two big rocks, and there was my truck, just where I had left it.

Now that’s mostly the end of this story. I got in my car and drove it home and slept for a whole day. And then when I got up I ate everything in my house and some from the restaurant, I was so hungry. And then I slept some more. And before long I had to go back to work and I didn’t have a chance to go back out and try that path again. And when I finally did, I drove and looked for those rocks and that path, but I couldn’t find it. I looked on the map and never saw Lost Run on it at all. I thought I found the rocks once, but there was no trail there at all. And then I couldn’t even find that place any more, and I gave up looking.

And now to this day I think about what good things must be beyond that river, things so good that the old man couldn’t tell a foolish boy like myself. I wondered what those mysterious lights were and what made that music that came from beyond the flood, and hope that someday I might get back to see. And I hope that someday you’ll go out on the mountain and look, and perhaps you’ll find those two big rocks and the little path, and you’ll be better prepared to follow it than I was.

Bedtime Benediction

2005-11-27T20:36:00.000-05:00

May the nightbirds bless you with their tongues,

The whipporwhill to sigh upon you

And the night hawk to whisper to you.

May the owls keep your watch,

As you close your bright eyes.

May the river wash your weary soul,

And carry you softly home.

May the mountain keep you in its shadow

And surround you with its long arms

And give you tender hugs.

May the angel armies encamp about you,

And watch in all directions.

May you see their dimly lit campfires,

And hear their happy angel songs

That drive away your fear.

May Venus and Jupiter keep watch upon you,

And the starry hosts smile above your head.

May the Milky Way sing your lullaby,

As you lay your head upon the clouds

And dream sweet dreams.

May those dreams be sweet and pure,

Of good and soft and gentle things.

May you make many friends there

And remember them all when you awake.

May they all come true tomorrow.

May the Lord bless you and keep you,

And make His face to shine upon you.

And be gracious to you.

May He lift up His countenance upon you,

And give you peace.

Narnia's Side

2005-11-09T20:07:00.000-05:00

"Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things- trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that's the funny thing, when you come to think of it. We're just babies making up a game, if you're right. But four babies playing a game can make a play world which licks your real world hollow. That's why I'm going to stand by the play world. I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian I can even if there isn't any Narnia."

Puddleglum the Marshwiggle, "The Silver Chair", C.S. Lewis (p. 159).

Springtime Poets

2005-10-18T16:11:00.000-04:00

There is no pow’r beneath the sun

Can still a young man’s hand

From scrawling miles of rambling verse

When springtime fills the land.

Let him see bees or daffodils,

And poems fill his brain,

With bumbling meter and cliched rhyme

That no flesh can restrain.

You may as well reverse the clock

And return to winter dark,

Than staunch the prose that gushes forth

When once he hears the lark.

I do not write of birds or trees

Or sunshine or the dew,

But I cannot help but burst with song

When once I think of you.

Psalm 19

2005-09-30T12:19:00.000-04:00

Here's a poem I wrote, entitled Psalm 19.

The heavens declare the glory of God,

Quietly from above the lowered window pane.

The firmament shows His handiwork

To me as I sit on the edge of my twin bed.

Day unto day utters speech,

Like dusty tomes on the top library shelf.

Night after night shows knowledge

To those who sit up later than they ought.

There is no speech nor language

Where their voice is not heard.

There is only the summer time,

When I go to bed before

They have anything to say.

But it is now September and once again,

Their line is gone out through all the earth.

Or maybe I just started paying attention.

Rapt to listen more and more,

Under the tutelage of November.

And the eastern magi of December,

I’ll sit here through February

Until the wedding March,

When the bridegroom comes out of his chamber,

And rejoiceth as a strong man

To run his race.

The ancients declare the glory of God-

“Brought the geranium in,

Cut two more cords,

Lit the furnace last night”.

The mighty ones His handiwork-

“Saw my first buck past velvet.

Fruit trees just loaded this year-

Gonna be a rough one.”

To everything there is a season,

And a time to every purpose under heaven.

Including sitting on the edge of my twin bed,

Looking at the stars through

The dropped pane of my window.

I will take that book from the shelf,

Close the window,

And read for a little while.

May the words of my mouth,

And the meditations of my heart,

Be acceptable in Thy sight,

O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.

Going to Asia

2005-09-16T17:24:00.000-04:00

"That's just what we meant; to link up the great religions of East and West; Buddha and Christ. Surely you must understand that all religions are really the same."

"If they are", said Father Brown mildly, "it seems rather unnecessary to go into the middle of Asia to get one."

G.K. Chesterton, "Red Moon of Meru"

2005 Bulwer-Lytton (Bad) Fiction Contest Winners

2005-07-29T12:22:00.000-04:00

For a good chuckle, check out the San Jose State University Bulwer-Lytton (Bad) Fiction Contest Winners. It's amazing how talented some people are at writing poorly. The winner compared a woman's breasts to knobs on a carburetor, and one of the runners-up wrote about India, "that hangs like a wet washcloth from the towel rack of Asia". Here are some of my favorites:

After she realized the man she had fallen in love with was her long lost twin brother and they must break up immediately, they shared one last kiss that left a bitter yet sweet taste in her mouth--kind of like throwing up after eating a junior mint. [Tami Farmer, Rome, GA]

The rising sun crawled over the ridge and slithered across the hot barren terrain into every nook and cranny like grease on a Denny's grill in the morning rush, but only until eleven o'clock when they switch to the lunch menu. [Lester Guyse, Portland, OR]

Long, long ago in a galaxy far away, in General Hospital born I was, and quite happy were my parents, but when a youngling still I was, moved we did. [Mary Potts, Oneco, Fl]

Family Dinner

2005-07-10T13:41:00.001-04:00

Once there was a happy family with many children. Their father, being a good father, saw to it that three good meals were provided for his many children every day. He worked hard to provide money for groceries so that his wife could cook up tasty and nourishing meals for his children's growth. He placed great emphasis on these meals, for he said "The family that eats together stays together".

His children enjoyed the meals (especially the desserts). They loved to sit at the table and see their many brothers and sisters, and listen to their stories and jokes. Their parents insisted on some rules at the table (no chewing with your mouth open, no talking out of turn, and don't touch dessert until Mommy does), but they weren't so strict as to forbid chocolate covered faces and outbursts of laughter.

One day, however, the oldest child, a strong-willed daughter of 12, did not appear at the breakfast table. "Perhaps she is feeling ill this morning", her father thought. Neither did she show up at all for lunch. When dinner time arrived, and the little girl was not at her table, Dad withheld the opening blessing and passing of the food to go and find her. She was in her bedroom, with the lights off, sitting and looking at the wall.

"My beloved daughter, what is wrong?"

"Oh, nothing Papa, I was just beginning my dinner with you all."

"What do you mean? We have waited to start dinner until you should arrive. Why have you skipped our meals together today?"

"Well, Papa," she explained, "you see I have come to understand what you want us to learn about one another: why it is so important that we eat together. I know that it's not the food in itself that is our nourishment, but our spiritual communion, in our hearts, that really nourishes us. You want us to come together to eat so that we can learn how to feast on each other, and on you, and find the real nourishment that our hearts need. So that's what I was doing. I was sitting up here, meditating, thinking about you and how you provide for everything I need, and how much I love Mommy and my brothers and sisters. It's been so much better than sitting at the table and being distracted by the babies crying and little Peter making snort noises when he laughs. I even got up extra early today so that I could feast with everyone before they got up."

Her father said nothing, but bent her over his knee and gave her a hearty spanking, until she apologized for being such a disobedient and foolhardy daughter. Then she came down to the dinner table and ate twice her portion, being very hungry.

All Roads Lead Where?

2005-07-10T13:23:00.000-04:00

To those who say that Christianity is as good as any other religion, because "all roads lead to God", I do not contradict this statement because God has said otherwise. That would be a right answer, because God is the creator of heaven and earth, and His word trumps all vain and foolish philosophical reasonings. I do not argue against this in this way because your argument is so unsound that it does not even need answering.

It is manifestly obvious to anyone with any knowledge of the world that all roads do not lead to the same place. Any rudimentary study of the cultures of the world will show you this. Hinduism does not lead to God: it leads to the untouchables class and starvation and darkness. Native American animism does not lead to God: it leads to savagery and tribalism and alcoholism. Islam does not lead to God, but rather to misogyny, terrorism and poverty. Can anyone show me a modern flourishing culture anywhere in the world that is not the product of centuries of Christianity?

But I will grant you your conviction in your argument. You believe that all religious roads lead to the same place: that is to no place. Perhaps they lead us to look inwards and find feelings of comfort and spirituality, but the only road that leads anywhere for a culture is that of secular humanism. It's only by passing laws and spending money on government programs that our culture will progress. It's only by experiments in the laboratory that we can know truth, and only by medicine and education that we can find salvation. This, it seems, is so obvious as to be questioned by no one.

So let's look at the evidence of that claim a little further. Where exactly has that road taken us? Does this road lead to the same place as biblical Christianity?

The American Chesterton Society

2005-06-30T12:47:00.000-04:00

Here's another link I have enjoyed today during my lunch break: The American Chesterton Society. I especially like the quotes section. Please find the link above and in the links section to the right.

Here's some of my favorites:

"If there were no God, there would be no atheists."

"I have little doubt that when St. George had killed the dragon he was heartily afraid of the princess."

"I still hold. . . that the suburbs ought to be either glorified by romance and religion or else destroyed by fire from heaven, or even by firebrands from the earth."

Bitterness

2005-05-17T16:08:00.001-04:00

Here's a book on bitterness written by a man named Jim Wilson. It was very helpful to me-- perhaps it will be for you as well.

Orion

2005-04-13T12:41:00.001-04:00

Orion has come out tonight, after the snow finished, dodging clouds that seemed to want to get home faster than I. He is a memorable man, perhaps the most well known man in the world. He is the only honest-to-God hunter that most people know. Everyone knows that he is a hunter, and everyone knows him, and that makes him very proud. There is nothing like being known by everyone for being what you most love to be. He is very glad that they point to him and say “There is the great hunter Orion, a mighty hunter before the Lord”, rather than “There is the Great Home Appliance Repair Man”, or “There is the Great Pee-wee League Soccer Game Spectator”, two things that he seemed to do quite much more than he would have wished. He is very glad that those things have faded from everyone else's minds and that it is only his hunting that anyone can remember.

But he is not a hunter. He has not been one for many, many years. Every year he brings out his belt and his sword and his dogs, and marches about as if he could finally bring down that bear and her cub, or that bull that he has always seemed to be one step ahead of. He is certain that this may be the year, although he is not sure what would happen if it finally was. His grandchildren love it- they love to look at his sword and hear about his chariot and play with his dogs. Major and Miner they call them, not at all certain what mining has to do with hunting or even being a dog. This does not trouble them. These children love these dogs, and they love their grandfather, and they love his pride. It hurts him and his dogs to think that they do not care for hunting or bows or chariots, and that they have no fear of him or his once mighty dogs. They are always being scolded for trying to touch his sword and bow. They cannot keep their hands of the dogs: trying to ride them like horses or pull their ears or dress them up in boots and coat. These children have manhandled the vigor and viciousness right out of those two old hounds. And they have done the same to the old hunter. They climb on him and wrestle him and love him. They cannot sit still, even when he tells them about his hunts.

“You see, my children, that I was once a mighty hunter before the Lord. That is why I have this sword on my belt that you may not touch. For it is a dangerous hunting weapon.”

They giggle. “But grampa, nobody goes hunting with a sword! Where is your gun?”

The oldest child, a pretty girl of nine who feels that she must know so much more than anyone else precisely because she is nine, loves to roll her eyes and ask him why he never caught anything, just to hear his protests that it is not easy, and besides when you go hunting you do not “catch” anything. You may bag a bird, or harvest a deer, (or even kill one), but never “catch”. This is not fishing, this is hunting, he explains. The children laugh.

But these children do enjoy hearing his stories. Their innocent and childish love for the old man helps them to feel the beauty of the thing, and to make a connection in their simple sentimentality that the more analytical and competitive mind of their parents has lost some years ago already. There is not much wonder in his stories (because after all he never did catch anything), but there is the hearty childhood joy of hearing about a thing you've heard about a thousand times before. When you are a child, you can love a thing just for that reason- that it is familiar and is the way things always have been and always will be. That man will get his sword out and his dogs and go marching about every February forever, and they know it and they love it.

There is one thing that they know, that they feel in their hearts, that makes them remember and love these stories and their old grandfather. They know that when the old man gets out his sword and his belt and his chariot and his tired old dogs and goes marching across the sky, that it is the end of the winter. It is the end of darkness and the cold and the stars, a love for which these young children, so delicate and fragile as they are, have not yet replaced with the adult hunger for perpetual comfort. They cannot go out in the winter without a piece of knit clothing on every part of their body (by maternal decree), but this does not keep them in, especially not now in March. They know that, even if it has only happened to them three or four or nine times, that very soon the stars will be removed from sight and mind and give way to perpetual light. When they arise in the morning, even very early, the sun will be up. When they are forced by Mother to come in and bathe up and go to bed, he will still be awake. And it will be this way until they have long forgotten that there is even such a thing as a star. It will be this way for years, for lifetimes, for ever. When the summer has arrived, winter and night is not even a thing you can imagine, or would want to. Endless weeks are soon to arrive of playing in the dirt and throwing the baseball and staying up later than they should (and never seeing it get dark!). The children love the summer, and are deeply pleased to realize that it is here. But each one of them has just the slightest sadness in their souls to think that they will not see their proud grandfather out for a long time, and nor will they see any other stars, or feel the cold, or watch the sun rise. These are things that they love, and although the Lord is about to give them the greatest joy of their little lives, they do love what they have now, and are very content with the winter as it has been. Winter has been around for time out of mind, it is familiar, and they love it because of that.

But it is never the same in the fall. When the leaves take the first tinge of color, and the dark finally seems to creep back into the sky come October, these children will feel a different emotion than the one they feel now. They will not love the winter in October, not at all, at least at first. It will bring that feeling that they hate- that sad loneliness in your stomach that makes you want to stay out just a little bit later each night, because tomorrow there might not be any light, and you might not see the sun again for another lifetime. Your mother may tell you that you cannot go out to play after dinner any more, or that you may have go to school. This is a thing which dulls the love of beauty in a child, the ability to love everything and anything just because it is and there must be some way to make a game out of it. This process will happen every year, and before long, perhaps by the time they are eleven, they will no longer love the winter, even in March. They will complain about the snow and the cold and talk about Florida as if Ponce de Leon really was on to something, and they will act like their jaded parents do, they who have seen too many falls to love winter.

The old man knows this. Old Orion, he knows that his many grandchildren will soon be like this- that they will grow old and bored and tired and will complain bitterly about how late the spring is right when he is out doing the thing that he loves the most- marching across the sky in his proud hunting outfit with his happy tired dogs bounding at this feet. This hurts him, although he has come to expect it because he has seen it many times before. But he is glad that they are still too young to be like this, and that they love him and his stories and his dogs and his domain, the winter, at least for now.

The Dollhouse

2005-04-13T12:31:00.001-04:00

Once upon a time, there was a man. He was very old, and very poor, and consequently very dirty. Dirty because he was poor, not because he was old, that is. His hair was mostly gray, and somewhat thin, and he had many wrinkles. He had these wrinkles not because he was poor and full of worries, but because he was old, and he had smiled and laughed very often in his many years.

The reason for his many smiles was that he had a daughter. She was very little, and very dirty, both because she was young and because she too was poor. She did not mind. She had a bright and curly yellow hair and a face that beamed like the sun on the first golden day of April. She did not have many toys, because she was poor, but her old father gave her everything she could want, and she was very thankful. She had a mopey old dog who did not mind when she rode on his back like the Lord riding into Jerusalem, or when she dressed him in her Sunday best. She had a bicycle that she was rather afraid of, and many books, full of pictures of ponies and princesses and castles and other delightful things.

But her favorite toy was the one thing that she owned that no other little girl anywhere in the world owned. It was a dollhouse. The reason that no one else in the world had one was because no other little girl had a father like hers. He had made this dollhouse with his own hands, just for her. It stood as tall as she did, with three stories and eight rooms and a kitchen and a yard with real grass. It was a log cabin, like their own house, except this one didn't look like any poor people lived there. This dollhouse was the home of a successful and happy family, with many doll children and animals, and a great oaken table where they all sat and dined (including the animals). It was full of the most delightful decorations, like a grandfather clock that really worked (it didn't even need winding, and made a real chime!) and little candles that burned with a tiny flame when supper was on, and a full set of fancy silverware, made of real silver. If any other little girl would have had this dollhouse, she would have said that it was a magic dollhouse, but this little girl did not know about magic, but only about her father. She was very happy. The baby dolls and animals must have been very happy as well, for they were served many abundant feasts at the hand of their beaming mistress, who imagined her grown up life providing such splendor for her own children.

So it went with this dirty little girl, all the years of her little life. Her father gave her chores to do, but they were not toilsome, and many of them were useful and beautiful things that she loved to do, like setting the table or folding the laundry. She had very few rules to obey- obey adults, feed the dog, and put the dolls away at bedtime. These things took up very little time, and so she was free to play at dolls as much as any little girl would want.

But before long, her old father took ill. This is to be expected in our world, especially with very old men. The little girl did not understand this, because he had never been ill before, and she had never been ill, and neither had any of the dolls in her house. He did not get up for many days, but instead called to his daughter for his meager supper, until he stopped eating altogether. Then one day he called her to his side and told her that he loved her and wished her the very best and may her sunbeams never go out, and that he was being gathered to his people. Then he smiled at her and put his hand on her head and he died. She cried for many days.

Now because that old man was very poor, and because the friends and brothers of the very poor abandon them, there was no relative to take care of his little daughter. So, one day a strange man came and took the little girl, with all her things (the mopey dog and the books, and of course the dollhouse), and took her to a new house. He said that it was his job to make sure that orphans were looked after, and that he was going to be her new daddy. Things were going to change he said, because she had wasted so much time. She was going to have new rules and chores (there were very many of these, more than she could remember) and she was now going to go to school instead of playing with dolls. This was for her good, he explained, so that she could go to a good college. Of course, she did not like the rules or the chores very much, and she did not like school at all. But she did as she was told, because she was a good little girl.

One day she came home and ran to her room, as she was wont to do. It was not nice to be around her new daddy, for he did not smile often (he had no wrinkles, and his hair was not gray), but he talked very often and very loudly and his talk made very little sense. Well, on this particular day she ran to her room, threw off her coat and knelt down to serve supper to her dolls.

To her absolute horror, her dollhouse was gone. Rather, it was not gone, but changed, reconfigured, destroyed! The beautiful logs were replaced with a blank white on the inside and a shiny gray on the outside. Where there used to be walls decorated with happy pictures and windows there were now awful white partitions that were low enough to look over, with papers tacked to them covered with words like “annuity” and “strategy” and “policy” which terrified her. Gone was the grandfather clock, and in its place a horrible black thing with bright red blinking digits that made a buzz on the hour. Gone was the silverware, replaced with little calculators pencils and more papers. And gone too was the giant oaken table. Her dolls were seated in desks, heads bent over.

This was too awful. She buried her face in her hands and turned away, just to find her new daddy sitting behind her.

“Now honey, do not cry. Why do you not like what I have done with your dollhouse?”

“Because it's so awful! Where did my house go?” she cried.

“Oh, do be sensible. Your dollhouse is right here. Are not all your dolls here? I have simply made your dollhouse a little more realistic, so that you may learn more about what the real world is like.”

“But it is awful!”, she said. “I want my things back!”

“Look here, my girl. I have taken away your table and the grandfather clock and your old walls because I love you and I want you to grow up proper. You see, we do not sit at an oaken table in our family, because I do not always get home from work in time for supper. We do not have babies or animals, because it would put a strain on our careers and finances. You see, once upon a time little girls had nothing more to look forward to than endless cooking and cleaning and slaving away in the house. But now you have so many possibilities that you must learn to dream big. This is the modern world, where dreams that you have never even thought of dreaming will come true. That is why I have turned your dollhouse into an office- because this is your future, the glorious life that you have to look forward to. Now go do your homework.”

Now because the little girl had been taught (by her poor dead father, not by her teacher) to always do what she was told, she went and did her homework and did not play with her dolls any more that day. In fact, she never played with them again. And she went back to school the next day, and for the years to come. And soon she grew up, and when she turned fourteen she suddenly stopped being a little girl and turned into a big girl. And she promptly got pregnant by her boyfriend and was sent away, never to be heard from again.

Creeds

2005-01-22T22:28:00.000-05:00

Doug Wilson has me thinking again. Imagine that. On his blog (at www.dougwils.com, he has some quotes from one of his books about how creeds are inescapable. That got me thinking, so I decided to post a few phrases from my own personal creed for further rumination.

I believe that God is at heart a storyteller, and that He loves suspense, plot twists and happy endings. I believe that He likes the way He has made us including our romance and habits and recreation and work. I believe that He is making the world better. I believe that He loves the material as well as the spiritual, or probably that He doesn't even notice the difference. I believe that He loves His people together as well as individually, thinking of their children as His own. I believe that He hasn't changed. Ever. I believe that He has known what He is doing from the beginning. I believe that He knows what He's doing even now.

And I believe that many other Christians do not believe some of these things, or else we wouldn't disagree about so much.

Evolution

2005-01-22T22:07:00.000-05:00

Evolution is quite a funny theory, when you think about it. It points out the best in modern secular unbelief. Consider:

A modern evolutionist does not believe in a Creator because he says it is too far-fetched and mystical. Yet he believes in amoebas turning into dogs turning into men.

A modern evolutionist does not believe in a Creator because he cannot find evidence of such a thing in the laboratory. Yet who has ever seen any of the transformations mentioned above occur? We have more statistical and testimonial evidence of ghosts and extraterrestrial beings than of dogs turning into men.

A modern evolutionist does not believe in a Creator because he claims to work from data rather than from faith. Again, where is the data for such astonishing transfigurations? A man may as well believe in chariots turning into pumpkins, or frogs into princes. At least some folks remember such things happening, if only in their oral traditions.

It seems that we Christians may have something to learn from our modern evolutionist friends, for they have much greater faith than many of us.

There is Nothing Better

2005-01-22T22:03:00.000-05:00

There seems to be quite an industry going around the inspirational attitude of making the most of every day, living in the moment, etc. Most people seem to be quite enamored of the idea, but very few people seem to understand how. Yet the question and answer are as old as the earth.

There is nothing better for a man than to eat and drink and tell himself that his labor is good. This also I have seen that it is from the hand of God. For who can eat and who can have enjoyment without Him? For to a person who is good in His sight He has given knowledge and joy, while to the sinner He has given the task of gathering and collecting so that he may give to one who is good in God's sight. This too is vanity and stiving after wind. Ecclesiastes 2:24-26

Loyalties

2004-09-27T13:31:00.000-04:00

To an extent, sin can be thought of as the disorder of loyalties. We sin when we act contrary to a vow or obligation that a loyalty places on us. For instance, when we sin against God, we choose to break loyalty with Him by ignoring His commands in order to satisfy another person, to whom the bond of loyalty should not be as strong. That person may either be ourselves or another. We can sin against people in the same way, too. For example, if a man joins his friends in publicly scorning his wife, he has chosen their approval over his loyalty to her as wife. Looking at it from the other angle then, sanctification is learning how to honor our loyalties.

This is helpful to think through when dealing with enemies. The Lord commands us to love our enemies, and pray for those who curse us. That means that we have a loyalty to our enemies that should be stronger than our own loyalty to ourselves. We must be careful though, that our loyalty to our enemies is not stronger than our loyalty to our disciples, family, friends, and God. That is why it is appropriate for Christ to keep quiet when falsely accused, and to pray for the forgiveness of his enemies, yet to call names and throw insults with the best of them in other circumstances.

Bitter or Sweet?

2004-09-10T07:45:00.000-04:00

At a certain moderate theological school a guest lecturer was invited to speak at a public event. This man was a college professor, and a staunch and noted atheist. He spoke for two and one-half hours, attempting to prove that the resurrection of Jesus was false. He went through the tired old arguments involving the opinions of Biblical "scholars" and modern philosophers, and concluded that the tradition of the church was groundless, an emotional fantasy. In keeping with his liberal and collegiate background, he said that Christianity was a viable option among religions, but fell quite short of providing a reasonable worldview for a functioning society, mostly because it was false.

Having been prompted for questions, an old evangelical preacher stood up. He stood silent for a second, then began to speak after reaching for an apple in his lunch bag. In between bites he explained that, although he was a professional minister of this faith, he was not familiar with the philosophers and scholars that the professor had quoted. Nor could he read the Scriptures in their original languages he explained with a full mouth. But he did have a question for the professor. "Here's what I want to know: This apple I'm eating-- is it bitter or sweet?"

The atheist paused for a moment a confused look on his face. He asked the old fellow, with a very patronizing air, "Sir, how can I tell? For I have not tasted that apple."

The white-haired old man looked back and said slowly, with a slight pause for effect, "Neither have you tasted my Jesus."

The crowd sat silent, all eyes glued on the professor for his response. He stared straight out over the crowd, hands grasping the edge of the podium. Then, slowly, a smile crossed his face, and he spoke into the microphone.

"Yes, thank you. That will do nicely. Good day."

Thinking Outside of the Box

2004-09-02T12:36:00.000-04:00

Having recently been urged to learn to "think outside of the box", I thought I'd meander on the subject for a little bit, safely inside the box. This browser window's text box, that is.

Wishing to think outside the box is the Buddhist's goal. He hates the box, because the box reminds him that he is a creature. He is not infinite. He is not one with everything. He is limited and finite and weak and creaturely. The box reminds him that try as he may, he cannot be everything, nor good at everything. In short, the box reminds him that while there is a God, he is not it. He hates the box because it is imposed upon Him by the hand of the Creator, whom he also hates.

The Christian must not learn to escape the box- he must learn to love the box. Here is joy and wisdom. If we love the Creator, we must love the creation since it proceeds from Him, which means we must learn to love the creaturely limitations placed upon us. We should greatly rejoice when one of our brothers or sisters has a better idea than ours, for we are not an envious people. We must thank the Lord when we forget something we used to know, for He knows everything and does not forget. When we cannot figure out a problem, we should toast the Lord with a glass of wine and enjoy an evening on the porch.

He has made everything appropriate in its time. He has also set eternity in their heart, yet so that man will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end. I know that there is nothing better for them than to rejoice and to do good in one's lifetime; moreover, that every man who eats and drinks sees good in all his labor- it is the gift of God. - Eccl 3:11-13

Jesus' Winter

2004-08-11T19:55:00.000-04:00

In John 10:23, John records that Jesus was walking in the Temple courts in the winter. He's already established in the previous verse that he's moved to a new time frame, starting with the Feast of Dedication. Why then mention the winter?

I think it connects us to Solomon's dedication of the Temple, for that took place in the seventh month (December, if my facts are straight). Solomon, being the Son of God that he was, is a player in the discussion that ensues, and even gets mentioned once in 10:23. Jesus is dedicating a new Temple and moving in, the Temple of His Body, the Church. He's going to raise Lazarus and then deal with the public for just a little bit more before concentrating on His disciples through the last nine chapters.

I think it's doing a little more though. One of the things Jesus is doing in this section is showing Himself to be the Greater Prophet. There's lots of Ezekiel and Jeremiah connections, and I think this is one. In Jeremiah 36, Jeremiah writes a scroll through his scribe Baruch and sends it to be read in the presence of Jehoiakim the King of Judah. Jehoiakim will not listen and burns the scroll, and God tells Jeremiah that his line will be cut off. All this takes place in the ninth month, while Jehoiakim is at his winter house (Jer 36:22).

And that is what is going on with the Jews in the Temple in John 10. They have rejected Jesus and His signs, and shown that they do not love the Lord. They are prophesied for destruction when Jesus levels the city and Temple. We should notice that He removes Himself from the Temple for good at the end of the chapter, never to return (at least in John's account). The wicked Jews have worshipped their idols long enough, and now God is moving out of His winter home to a new home. But the spring will not dawn for these Jews.

Virtues and Vices

2004-07-31T11:43:00.000-04:00

One of the things that is interesting to note with regards to the homosexual marriage agenda is the justifications that proponents make in their minds. Homosexuality is considered to be genetic, something that one cannot control. Given the presuppositions then that most Americans hold, there is no reason that the cannot take part in family and society in the same way that heterosexuals can. In fact, to discriminate against a homosexual because of their biological urges goes against the American virtues of equality (or bland sameness) and individualism (or freedom from societal responsibilities).

To many Americans, these arguments are persuasive. That's why so much of the battle is fought over whether homosexuality is genetic (to which I respond "Who cares?"). If homosexuality is in fact genetic, then our virtues dictate that we accept it in the public square. After all, they're not hurting anyone, right?

And therein lies the problem, and the point of this post. Our problem as a people, and especially in the Church, is that our virtues need repented of. And this is great difficulty we have, and that men have always had apart from the grace of God. We cling to our sins not because we hate ourselves or want to openly defy God, but because we think they're our virtues. The Pharisees thought they were serving God when they crucified Christ. They made long prayers for a pretense, and their condemnation was all the greater. So it goes with us. We keep certain sins around that we know to be vices, and we fight against them to assuage our consciences. But our wicked virtues are the sins that bring the judgment of God upon us, because we refuse to repent of them.

We must let this knowledge guide us as we seek reformation in our lives and churches. We must pray that God would show us where we have sinned and how we cling to our stubborn sins, and then be willing to repent of them when we see them. And we should start by looking to our virtues first.

Location Reversal

2004-07-29T16:57:00.000-04:00

Here's an observation from John to explore. In my study we've spent two weeks now looking at ways that chapter five (the lame man healed at the Sheep Pool) and chapter nine (blind man healed at the Temple) correspond and contrast. Here's one for further reflection.

The locations involved in the two stories are opposed as the plot unfolds. The lame man is found outside the city to the north by Jesus, healed, and then encountered again inside the Temple. The blind man is found near the Temple (Jesus is on his way out from nearly being stoned), healed, and then encountered again somewhere near the Pool of Siloam, almost outside the city to the south.

A couple of interpretations present themselves. First, we must remember that the blind man conducts himself with faith in the Christ as the Pharisees interrogate him. He is rewarded by Jesus in hearing who the Christ is and believing. The lame man doesn't have much faith at all and is warned by Jesus to "stop sinning or something worse will happen to you." Remembering this, it becomes evident that the miracles of Christ combining with faith move you closer to the Living Water, while scorning His works through disbelief will remove you from it. It was the blind man who got into the pool through faith and the hearing and obeying of Jesus' word.

And the converse has implications too. Jesus is taking His disciples out of the Temple, for it will soon be destroyed. The old covenant is perishing because of the disbelief of its members. The lame man winds up in the Temple, suitable for destruction because of his disbelief. The blind man is thrown out, but that is a blessing because the Temple is not long for the world.

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