Ouabache State Park '17

That's us, down there on the left.

We managed to get in a truncated camp out at Ouabache State Park last Tuesday and Wednesday, drove home on Thursday.  The weather was absotively perfect for camping.  That doesn't always happen.

Coversations with Random People --Nineteen #T

We were camping at Mounds State Park last week and as is our custom, a fire was blazing in the fire pit as darkness crept onto the scene.  Several fellows were sitting around the fire chewing the fat, Elvin adding a log now and then.

Eventually the legs, mine, needed to be unkinked so I stood and walked a few steps away from the fire.  A young couple walked up with two little girls in tow.  I am saying the man and woman were thirty or mighty near it, one way or the other.  The kinder were nine and four.  I established that by taking a wild, and correct, guess to the age of the older one, explained that I had been an elementary school principal for many years.  The younger child extended her right hand toward me, thumb tucked, fingers upward.

The man had close-cropped sandy red hair and the genes that produced the coloration was passed to both his children, though being girls they wore their tresses quite long.  The young lady had on a red t-shirt on which was emblazoned the words "I am a programmer."  Thus I saw an opportunity to probe a bit.  "I see that you write code for a living, but I have no clue as to the role of the mister here."

"Yes," she replied. "I am a full-time programmer, and also I am adjunct professor at our college where I teach coding."

The husband spoke up then and said, "I am a stay-at-home dad.  I take care of the household, care for the kids, and I home-school Nadine.  We are thinking we may send her to school this fall when Rosemary starts kindergarten."

"That is very interesting.  Your arrangement seems to be working very well for you," a comment I made just before Nadine bumped her right arm against the fire ring.  Well, that necessitated a trip to the cold water source and mother took care of that.  They returned in a few minutes and the child bore a red mark along the wrist but she never wailed or whined.  While they were gone Dad and I chatted generally about their home in Columbus, Ohio and the circumstances which brought them to this particular park at this very time.

"Come on girls.  Bedtime now."  Then to me, "Nice talking with you.  Probably see you around tomorrow.  Goodnight."

May in Indiana

 What a pleasant sight it is to see the rigs of old friends gathered together again.

 Just sitting under the awning sucking in the warm spring air.

Parked beneath a tulip tree (yellow poplar).  The tree

shed several flowers, scattered them about.  Pretty.

And now having ended our first outing of the season, we are back home again.

Thank you, Lord, for your bountiful blessings.

Salamonie September

 On the lake on a fantabulous September day.

 From the boat we spotted this eagles' aerie way up in a tall tree.

 What's wrong with this picture?  Hint: do you see any people?  What's wrong is that most of the group piled into autos and went to some shopping venue.  Not me.  Well, to their credit, they were not gone long and for the most part they bought next to nothing.

 Around the campfire.

By the light of the slivery moon.  And the setting sun.

There's a badge one seldom sees these days.  The camp host had a '55 Ford.  Nice looking old vehicle.

The five days were perfect in every way.  The weather was sunny and warm in the daytime, cool and dry at night.  The compadres were congenial and, to coin a phrase, a good time was had by all.

In the Woods

Last week we had a wonderful time with the CCF pals at Ouabache (correctly say "wah bash," or if asking directions of a convenience store clerk, "oh BOTCH ee") State Park in Bluffton, Indiana.

Bicycle riding has long been one of her pleasures, but BBBH has not been able to do that for some time.  She was delighted to be able to take a spin in the park.  We were not on the trail a long time, but it was a good ride and we enjoyed it.

 

 Pretty fungi at the base of many trees near our campsite.

 

The denim fabric on my knee.  Lots of sitting around.

 BBBH leads us in singing.

Harvey teaches from The 91st Psalm.

 Old people in their natural habitat.

Psalm 91:14 “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
¹⁵ He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
¹⁶ With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation.”

Just a campin' in the rain. . .

Off the ranch a few days this week.  Our campers' fellowship was scheduled to meet at Summit Lake. We belong to a hardy group, and notwithstanding rain forecast for virtually every day there was no doubt that many, perhaps even most of the group would show up.  It looked for a bit that we were going to be the washouts, for Sunday passed and we did not feel up to getting ready to go.  Monday came and went, and we still had not headed out

Tuesday, though, we kicked ourselves a bit just to get started.  We went.  The pictures are illustrative of the experience.

 What it is is rain.

 But in this case, it is smoke.  Elvin made his world-famous peach cobbler baked in a Dutch oven over an open fire.  Which was upwind of the tent.  It was worth it. Table games were played under the tent, and there were sunny periods between downpours.

 One of the preachers (there are two) in the group.  Richard is every bit as pleasant as he looks.

The firepit fishing hole on our space.  Bring your rod and lure, try your luck.

Wiener's opinion of the whole thing.

On the way home Thursday morning, we arrived in Sulphur Springs at 10:50 which was perfect timing for a stop at the Iron Kettle.  BBBH had a  beautiful everything-in-it-omelet with a lovely biscuit and hot tea.  I had the hand breaded grouper with baked potato and fruit, water with lemon.

Note to self:  Order that again.  One of the best pieces of deep fried fish I ever had.  The breading was better than dessert.  Which I skipped.

Ouabache in August

 Among the fungus.  

Firebugs at it, as usual.

For this month's campout, we arrived late and left early.  BBBH is going on three weeks of severe pain in the right leg, chiropractor, doctor, and doppler notwithstanding.  Solution to date: painkillers.  Not a good thing.  Thus it was that it was Monday past noon before we decided to go, and by Wednesday at noon, we decided to come home.*

We did get in one short walk, which yielded the fungus find.  And rain Monday night helped us find that we have sprung a leak around the skylight.  Always something.  The good news?  The drip dropped directly into the bathtub.

The girl finally got an X-ray which revealed two crushed vertebrae in the lower back, hence a pinched nerve causing the leg pain.  "Have you fallen recently?' asks the Sawbones.  "Well, yes, I did land on my behind in the driveway a month or so ago, but I didn't think anything of it."   MRI scheduled for Monday.

July Campout

This past week was our annual outing to Mississinewa State Reservoir.  We worked and slaved and packed and toted, because the fun and relaxation at the other end would be worth the effort.

I went to the desk drawer to get the charger for the camera battery.  As I picked it up, I noted the ancient A520 lying there, lonely, unused,  rejected in favor of the newer, sleeker A4000.  And a little voice spoke into my ear, "Take the old camera along.  Just in case something should go wrong with your pet."

Nah.  What could possibly go wrong?  Everything, as it turns out, so there are no pictures from our most recent camping experience.  The lens cover jammed and would not open; camera shut down automatically.  I could think of nothing that helped.

Oh, well.

The next time I have a premonition, I will attend more carefully.  Maybe.

Oh, yes.  It was a great time, even without pix.

Vanilla, you say, you could have taken pix with your smartphone!  Really?  I have never had, do not now have, nor is it likely that I will ever have, a smartphone. 

Pow Wow

 Tecumseh Lodge holds its Pow Wow on the Tipton County Fairgrounds every year, Labor Day weekend.  Pitching of tipis, beading, dancing, and other Native American stuff.

 I arrived on the scene too early to actually engage any of the participants, so just pix.

 I''m guessing some of these tents are quite a significant monetary investment.  And you'd have to have a thirty-foot flatbed trailer to transport those poles!

Of course not, I cracked, they've eaten their dogs.

That's not funny; so why did BBBH crack up laughing?

Actually, I find it almost unbelievable that that many people would camp out for two days without their pets.  What the heck?

Conversations with Random People: One #T

I am neither the most affable nor the most sociable person in the county, but people interest me.  I find that if I show an inkling of that interest to a near-stranger, or even a complete stranger, an interesting conversation is likely to ensue.

There are snobs and too-busy-to-live types who won't give anybody beneath the rank of "Earl" the time of day; but I am not talking about them.  I am talking about most people.  For the simple reason that 1) I have not cleared the presentation of these accounts with the principals, and 2) in some cases I don't even know the real names of the participants, I am using random names from, well, a "What to Name the Baby" book, if you will.

In a campground in Texas which we have frequented on several occasions.

We met Candy and her husband Jim at Sunday morning church service.  A conversation on our way out led to the discovery that while she is twenty years my junior, Candy and I were born in the same county in Southeastern Colorado.  The two little towns of our nativity are less than eight miles apart.  While my parents moved us away from there when I was yet an infant, Candy grew up in her home town and graduated high school there.

I have been in Candy's little town many times, and in fact when I was a child I had an uncle who lived there.  We visited Uncle Wayne and his family on a number of occasions.

The lady asked me where Uncle lived, and I told her he was the section foreman for the Santa Fe and he lived in the company house beside the tracks at the west edge of town.

It is I with Uncle Wayne and Aunt Stella in Southeastern Colorado.

"That," said Candy, "is very interesting.  My grandfather probably worked for your Uncle, for he was one of the Mexican citizens who came to the States to work on the railroad.  He came to America with the promise of a job, and ultimately citizenship if he so desired.  My grandfather chose to become an American, and that is how I happened to be born in Colorado!"

Interesting, indeed.

Gandy dancers.

Wasps, Faith, Joy and Peace

May God, the source of hope, fill you with joy and peace through your faith in him. Then you will overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.  --Romans 15:13 (GNT)

How we desire to be filled with joy and peace!  Yet how often it seems we are unable to receive the blessing.  Early last week, I was prepping the motor home for our excursion into a quiet place.  One of the many tasks is the filling of the water tank.  Many RVers drive with empty water tanks, believing they save money by increasing their gas mileage.  That may well be the case, but I prefer drinking my water from home to taking the pot-luck, so to speak, which is to fill at the campground. My experience suggests that the difference between 8.09 mpg and 8.17 mpg on a short trip is not going to break the exchequer   When that is the case, I will quit RVing.


So I placed the hose in the filler pipe and had it running at a good volume. I know it takes several minutes to complete the fill. I stepped around the rig to tend to another item; but presently I heard water splashing on the ground.  I went to the hose, and the tank was not taking the water, but allowing it to spill to the earth.  I removed the hose and the tank burped.  I replaced the hose, and in a matter of a few seconds, overflow again.  Remove hose, tank burps.  I now know that the vent tube is plugged, but cannot imagine why.  I try again, same result.  After say the fifth burp, when I reinsert the hose, a brilliant metallic-blue mud dauber crawls out of the vent tube!  Aha!  She has plugged me up.
I set the nozzle to fine-stream, top power and shoot the water down the vent tube.  Voila! as Pierre might say.  The pipe, she is clear and the filling process proceeds in a normal fashion.



Now as I completed this task, I was thinking that in spite of our desire for the joy and peace that the filling of the Holy Spirit brings, it is too often the case that our inner being, our tank, in a manner of speaking, is filled with air, trivial and meaningless matters, that must be vented to allow room for the infilling of the Spirit.  Yet we have somehow allowed the wasps of worldly cares to plug the vent, we hold onto what must be expelled, and thus fail to receive the joy and peace that should be ours.

How to correct the problem?  Our faith is the jet-stream that will clear the vent-tube of the soul.

Christmas in July

The Christian Campers' Fellowship met at Potato Creek State Park for its July outing.  The theme this time was "Christmas in July."  No kidding, there were decorations aplenty, Christmas carols were sung, and a gift exchange was hosted by Old Santa himself on the final night!

Should you have been among those who happened by and heard the carols, or the laughter during the gift exchange, and thought, "What silly old people!" let me advise you that there is room in a life well-lived for a certain amount of silliness.  Try it.

Ouabache Outing

 Party poopers prohibit poppers; water balloons banned.  This notice was posted at the site of the fire tower.  I immediately understood the ban on fireworks, but I had to try to cast myself in the role of a juvenile in order to understand the water balloon thing.  Not so hard to figure, though.  Kids are strong enough, nimble enough to climb the fire tower, and altitude + water balloon = ?  You can see the potential, so prohibition = good.

The tower was open.  Anyone who wants to may climb the thing.  There was a mild admonition to be careful at the  entry.  I, of course, had no inclination to ascend, although a decade ago, I might have done.  (I climbed to the top of the lighthouse at Port Isabel, Texas as recently as six years ago.)

BBBH at the base of the tower.  It took a few stents in her heart to gain the result, but she is good on the trail now!  Praises be to God.  She didn't want to go up the tower, however.

Raising our voices in song.  A like number of people to my left, but I include the picture to draw attention to the trees.  I mentioned in a comment that the setting was in a hardwood forest, the trees largely hickory and oak.  Note the beautiful tall, straight trees!  Very impressive.

This great park, twenty miles south of Ft. Wayne, is about sixty-five miles from our home.  The setting, the activities, and the fellowship all worked together to make the experience well worth the drive  Normally, we leave the party on Thursday, but circumstances conspired to motivate us to leave Wednesday afternoon, a decision which turned out to be most beneficial.  The early Thursday morning storms that rolled through Indiana stayed mostly to the north of us.  The park was dead center in their path.

Today is Flag Day!  Honor Old Glory.

Fish and Fun

Fish fry.  Doesn't begin to represent the quantity of wonderful comestibles.

The pictures don't show even half of the tables, or a quarter of the dishes available.

I, for one, am overstuffed.  And I thought I was being so self-disciplined.  Ah, well.  Not something we do every day.

Camping, 21st Century Style

Probably if you are old enough to remember when "camping" meant getting away from it all you are in the same age range I'm in.  Over the years we traded our fire-building skills for gas grills.  We exchanged our tents and sleeping bags for RVs and the campgrounds installed electrical outlets.  Thus we take our microwaves and our television sets and our satellite dishes.

Much more recently, we have taken to taking our telephones because we take them everywhere.  Some of us remember when one of the principal joys of camping was to be disconnected from the workaday world we normally occupy.  Now we even take that with us.

I am amused at the old folk with whom we camp, for the first thing they do upon arrival at the campground is to open the phone to see how many, if any, bars they have.  Oh, the agony of  "no service!"  At Mississinewa where we most recently camped, the Verizon customers are all in a panic because they can't call Susie or Ned.  On more than one occasion I have loaned my AT&T phone to someone so they can call home.   To what depths have we fallen?  We don't even know the meaning of getting away, finding some solitude, or communing with nature.

And now we want our wifi connection so that we may continue to be connected to the interwebs.  Yes, I am one of those.  And in at least two of our state parks (there may be others) wifi access is available now.

Camping?  Why the heck don't we just stay home and save the lugging of all our possessions with us everywhere we go?  Well, it is the camaraderie with all those pacing around, pulling their hair because they can't make a phone call.

Got any bars?  (Did you ever watch a seventy-four year old man climb on top of his RV in hopes of getting that elusive or non-existent signal?)

Ouabache State Park

"Ouabache is difficult to spell, but easy to pronounce. Simply say 'Wabash'...just like the river that forms the southwest boundary for the park. This is the French spelling of an Indian word, so don't be surprised to hear some folks call it o-ba-chee.

"Kunkel Lake offers excellent fishing. During the summer months, a naturalist will provide information about the natural wonders of the park. A lodge recreation building is ideal for special gatherings and is now available all year."  --Indiana DNR

We are home from three days and three nights at Oubache State Park with our gang.  This lovely spot is just east of Bluffton and about twenty-five miles south of Fort Wayne.  Perfect weather, fun fellowship, and a trip to Berne that I might share with you sometime next week!