A "Hat-trick of Happiness"

The launch of a thousand new memories.

This past week Marty and I spent the week in Grand Marais. We were joined by many in the family, each day someone left and new people arrived. I have been looking forward to this vacation for weeks and it did not disappoint. We enjoyed flawless weather... everyday dawned sunny and warm. We filled the days with eating, sightseeing, playing in the water, reading, shopping and kayaking. I brought books and magazines, quilts to bind. I didn't finish a single book, I did no sewing at all, the days flew by filled with laughter, love, storytelling and the companionship you can only get from family.

Then there is this:
 Early June is hard. For 52 years I have shared this time of year with my brother, celebrating birthdays within a week of each other. 35 years ago, Mike joined the celebration, his birthday the day after Steve's. For me it was a "hat-trick" of happiness. Two guys I think the world of and me. When Mike died, birthdays became a milestone of a clock ticking out of sync. When your child dies, birthdays especially your own become a reminder of what will never be again. Cards, well-wishes and celebrations are landmines of despair. In the past six years we have tried everything to make it through the day. Marty and I have gone away on our own, we have shared the day with Mike's sisters, we have shared the day with the grand-kids. We have laughed through some of the day, we have cried through more. Mike loved his birthday, he also loved everyone Else's. He never once forgot his sisters, his Dad, his nieces or me. A gift always arrived from "out west". The last birthday I celebrated before Mike died, he called and left a message on the machine. I had turned 50 and his message said"hey, thought there was supposed to be a party here, guess I got the wrong place. I'll try again later." I saved the message on the answering machine for six months. I erased it in late November when Mike was home safe. I would give anything to have it back.

 In early June I spent a long weekend on the south shore of Lake Superior. The second day we were there, we picked my brother up at his cabin and along with my folks we set out for a day of exploring. The south shore of Lake Superior is very different from the north shore, it seems more "lake-like" and less wilderness. My brother directed us to a place called Little Sand Bay, just south of the Red Cliff Indian Reservation. Little Sand Bay is a safe harbor, a launching point for many boats and a stopping point for others. We were down walking along the docks and stopped to look at the only kayak pulled up on the beach. My brother had just given me a kayak that he made and we were looking at the add- on's this kayaker chose. As we were standing there the owner came walking down the hill. He was dressed in a dry-suit, walking bare feet, eating his lunch. He saw us by his kayak and came over to visit. His name was Robert Weitzel and the story he told us was this. He was kayaking the perimeter of Lake Superior for the summer. He said he worked in education and decided to devote the summer to a dream. He told us the previous summer he had biked the perimeter only to be hit by a car in Canada putting a temporary end to that dream. He had launched from Ashland the day before and he chuckled when he said "I'm just getting started." He was easy to talk to and we spent 30 minutes or so talking about the lake, his equipment, kayaking in general, blogs, books and his wife. He was raising money for at-risk kids and he was traveling in memory of his brother Greg. He was easy to talk to because he seemed humble. There was no arrogance about his endeavour, it was his dream and he was happy to share the particulars. The date was June 4. On the 5th of June, we were down the shore packing up our camper when Marty looked in the binoculars and called me over. Sure enough, there was Bob, a mile or so off shore, continuing on his journey.

This is what I know: Bob died. On June 17th, somewhere along the North shore of Lake Superior outside of Grand Marais everything went wrong for him. I had been following his blog, laughing along at his stories, cheering him on. He was funny and a gifted writer. I teasingly asked him in early June if there was "going to be a book". It would have been a good one.
 Grand Marais is full of people of differing styles and personalities. There is no shortage of adults who seem to be trying to out wilderness each other. I think it is part of the reason I found Bob so genuine. He had all the best equipment, he definitely was trying something the average person doesn't but there wasn't a shred of "I am better than anyone" in anything he said. When I told him about my new kayak, he seemed genuinely excited for me and downplayed any skill he may have had. When I was searching online for an obituary I came across a blog written by someone who said Bob took kayaking classes from him. I was disturbed by the arrogance of a comment this man made. He said and I quote "This wasn't some yahoo paddler out in a short, fat recreational kayak in jeans; this guy knew what he was doing. He was prepared." He was praising Bob as a kayaker who knew what he was doing, but a comment like that was very far from what I could imagine Bob would think or feel.
I am not sure what makes the difference between someone who does something on a purely personal level, yet has the ability to include everyone in their enthusiasm and someone who pursues the same goal yet makes it about others being less. I have been around both personalities, I will always pick the first.
Mike was that guy, the first guy. The guy that chased dreams with an enthusiasm that carried him away. He never once thought his skill level was better than anyone else, even when it was. He knew there was always more to know. He knew that everyone started somewhere. He knew that in all things there would be better than him and lesser than him but if all were heading towards their goal, that was good enough for him. Their goal, no one Else's.
Sometimes I know it is what I miss the most about Mike. His ability to dream and then act on his dreams. He could sweep you along in his passion for life. He made you remember there is so much out there we don't know, but could learn. He made do with what he had, what he could afford, what he had access to and never once thought something was out of his reach. He was a solo act that loved ideas and people. But especially people with ideas. Mike's good friend Sam from the Hotshot crew told me this. He said one of the best lessons he learned from Mike when Mike was the Squad Boss of the crew was this. Mike said" when you get to a fire, there will be alot of personnel there, Government and private. Many people with differing opinions, skill levels and work ethic." He said, "you look around and decide who your people are going to be, and then you go and fight the fire."

One of the last days we were in town, we were sitting at the bakery. A truck came around the corner driven by 2 young men. It was a bastardized truck full of dents and dings with the scratched out name of a construction company on the side. The canoe on top could have told a thousand stories. These 2 guys jumped out in ripped flannel shirts, cut-off jeans, socks and work boots. They parked in a no-parking zone, left the keys in the ignition, a 6 pack of beer on the front seat, 2 bottles gone. They smiled at everyone and went up to the take-out window to order. Just livin life. They reminded me of Mike. It was the way he rolled.

I took my new kayak out on the big lake. I never let go of the thought that it is all bigger than me. I paddled along the peaceful waters knowing a few short weeks earlier, Bob had traveled the same path. I suppose I was honoring his journey, the dream he didn't get to finish. I am happy to have met him. For me he eased the pain of June 4 and 5 and 11. He showed me again it is important to keep moving forward, one day at a time.
I checked his web-site. The count clock of his journey is stopped. It has been re-set to zero. It is re-started somewhere we don't know, just as Mikes is.

"Look around and decide who your people are going to be and then go and fight the fire"

Robert Weitzel
www.soloingsuperiorinsideout.com
It was a pleasure.

till next time.