Trip to Howry Lake

Knowing the beauty and splendor of what lies ahead should compel us to lead others to the same knowledge, with vigor and excitement.

Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you. Philippians 3:13-15

Many years ago, when we were younger and more spry, my father, brother and I spent a week each year hiking, boating and fishing in Ontario, Canada. These trips typically involved portaging some gear (and sometimes boats themselves) over land, through woods, up and down steep hills, across vast spans of grassland. Lakes lay at the end of these portages rarely seen by a human being, and so the fishing was often spectacular. Back then, I often wondered if all of the hard work was worth the result – that is until we caught fish after fish after fish. I remember more about the good fishing and the beautiful scenery than I do the complaining, sweat, bug bites, and twisted ankles. My fond memories remain even in spite of travesties such as having my fishing line unwittingly unspool because my lure got caught on a tree at the beginning of the portage. In fact, the pain and discomfort of the journey is, now, almost a comical thing as I retell the fishing stories.

One of the more memorable portages was our excursion involving four bodies of water: from Bear Lake to Howry Lake. Upon the advice of some other fisherman, we set out with adventurous spirits to experience the tremendous fishing that Howry Lake was apparently known for. We gathered our fishing gear, and lightly packed food and extra clothing, along with a gas-powered trolling motor, and aimed for the first portage: Bear Lake-to-Van Winkle Lake. I cannot properly describe this portage; the moment we parked the boat on shore, we were greeted with a steep incline of roots, moss, rock and forest. The “wall” we had to climb rose about 35 feet from lake level within about 100 feet from shore. Steep. Keep in mind that each of us was carrying about 50 pounds of gear while trying to maintain a foothold among trees, roots and mossy rocks.

Once we crested the hill, the rest of the portage to Van Winkle Lake was relatively smooth. The total portage distance was only perhaps 500 feet. We loaded our gear into a boat already waiting on shore, fixed our motor, and proceeded across the lake to another portage, this time to Cat Lake. We detached the motor, and gathered our gear once more to begin the second portion of our expedition. Although this second portage was flat compared to what we had just endured, it was longer – about one quarter mile.

Cat Lake itself is known for fantastic fishing, and we had already experienced this in past fishing trips. It was tempting to stay there and give up on our journey. We could have had a fine day of fishing, and still considered the trip a worthwhile venture. But we had set out for something else, and would see that through.

Having traversed Cat Lake, we brought our boats up on shore at the beginning of the portage to Howry Lake, our destination. The path ahead appeared to be rather flat and unassuming, although we knew from our maps that the trek would involve winding around wetlands and, while toting gear for now a third time, would be no easy task. The issue with the Howry portage was not the elevation this time. Instead, it involved stamina. Although only a distance of about one-half mile by air, the winding path through and around wetlands and wild grass as tall as I was required us to hike perhaps four or five times that distance. On top of that, the flat ground on the trip to Howry stole from us the ability to crest any sort of hill and gather a view of the goal in the distance – a breathtaking and invigorating moment for any nature traveler. Walking at length, winding and weaving, without the opportunity to see the destination in the distance can lead to significant doubt about whether the trip was wise in the first place.

When we arrived at the shore of Howry Lake, the span of water set out before us was magnificent. This lake is long and narrow but slightly larger than the surrounding lakes. Our shoreline spread out to the left and right nearly as far as the eye could see, yet we could easily view the opposing shoreline. The beauty of this place is difficult to describe. I have written about the certain stillness that you simply cannot experience in everyday life.

I won’t bore you with the details of our fishing adventure that day because that’s not the point of this post. Suffice to say the fishing and scenery was good enough to occupy the majority of our stories we shared with family and friends when we returned to Indiana. The point of this post is to share with you what happened a few years later.

My father had convinced my mother to join us on our next trip to this place. I had convinced my wife to do the same. Dad and I knew that we had to get back to Howry, and this time we were going to share the moment with the ladies in our lives who mean the most to us. Surely they too would appreciate the splendor!

We severely miscalculated the willingness of the ladies to experience such an adventure. Together we followed the same path from a few years ago, hiking from Bear to Van Winkle to Cat lakes. By the time we reached Cat Lake, the ladies strongly suggested that this trek of ours had better be worth it. Having rested for a moment, and reassuring the ladies that this would indeed be the trip of a lifetime, we made off on the final leg of the portage to Howry. The ladies performed admirably, plodding on while themselves carrying a fair amount of gear. They kindly kept the complaints to a minimum, although dad and I knew that they were likely cursing us under their breath. About a mile into the portage, I distinctly recall my mother mustering, as firmly as she could, the phrase “this is ridiculous!” That statement remains a known unit of measurement in our family for things in life that are difficult or require extreme endurance.

Yet, having made the trip ourselves, dad and I encouraged my mother and wife to press on. We knew what fantastic things lie ahead, and desired so badly to share it with them. We spoke about the beauty, the fishing, the chance of a lifetime to experience this place. Knowing more about the destination allowed us to speak truthfully about it, with vigor and obvious anticipation not just for us to see it again, but to share it with the ladies.

I give credit to our minister this past Sunday for planting the idea of this post in my head as I listened to the sermon at worship on Sunday.  Sharing the Good News of Christ with others should feel the same way to me as this second trip to Howry Lake. Having endured troubles in life, I can be empathetic with those around me, understanding their troubles and encouraging them to be persistent and press on toward the goal of an intimate relationship with our Savior.

Much like that trip to Howry, our friends might not see what lies ahead. Yet, we who have seen God’s Grace at work in us can reassure them that what appears to be a long slog through the wilderness will not last forever, and the end result will be worth the persistence.

Our experience with our son, Jacob, falls in line with this thinking. The “wilderness” often times seemed unbearable. On so many occasions, God lifted us and carried us (by placing so many of you in our lives to help!) through it nonetheless. I note specifically that He refused to remove us from the wilderness, or it from us; He carried us along allowing us to experience it for ourselves. We could have decided to remain in the swampy morass, wandering aimlessly. We could have been angry at having been placed in the wilderness. We could have kept the whole experience to ourselves so that we could avoid reliving the pain as we shared the story with others.

Much like the fishing trip to Howry, we instead attempt to lead others along the path to their Savior’s unending and unconditional love. Although we might travel that same path over again, enduring the same pain, we vigorously and joyously wave others toward Christ, knowing what lies ahead.