Angling for Brookies

Six million acres, 3,000 lakes and ponds, 30,000 miles of rivers and streams... the Adirondack Park is the largest state park in the lower 48 and has some of the most beautiful and remote wilderness east of the Mississippi River. The waters in the park boast healthy and well managed fisheries with both native and stocked populations of many trout species, along with a host of other game fish. One particular area in the park is dedicated to a paddling tradition that began in the late 19th century with a canoe builder named Henry J. Ruston who set out to build the smallest and lightest canoe possible so that it could be carried, or portaged, over game trails from one pond to the next throughout the Adirondack wilderness. This area is called the St Regis Canoe Area, and it's this wilderness area and canoeing tradition that has opened my eyes to the tremendous joy of primitive camping with a small group of men in pursuit of something hard to describe.

Some men are there for the fishing, some for community, some for quiet, but everyone has at least one aim in common. When you‘ve hiked 5 miles down an old fire road carrying a 50 pound pack and dragging a canoe on a Thursday evening to reach the lake in the dark for the final half mile paddle in blowing foggy mist where you can't see 10 yards in front of you, you're there for the adventure. We fall asleep sweaty in our small one mans tents only to be woken up late in the night with feet that feel frozen as ice. And then there are the unforgettable loons. Sitting around a small campfire with the sun setting, the afternoon breeze settling into the calmness of evening, and then comes the smooth, powerful call of the loon from the lake through the darkening forest, echoing off the surrounding mountains. These are places, feelings, and experiences that are unforgettable and take a man beyond exploration and into adventure.

There is something special about being in a place where you lose control of variables that you generally otherwise have a lot of control over. For me, the realization of loss of control is central to true adventure. We train, pack, plan and then go for it. There is no heat or air conditioning, terrible cell service, and no quick way out if things go south, big or small. If you lose a shoe, you will finish the trip with one shoe.

In stark contrast to our complete lack of control is the life of Jesus. There are countless examples recorded in the gospels where we see Jesus display a level of control over variables we can’t even fathom. In one story, Jesus is on the shore of the sea and the crowd he is teaching is getting pretty large. Jesus decides to go out in a boat a little ways from shore to allow the crowds to hear him better and he also has some other plans for the man whose boat he requested. The man, Simon, was just cleaning his nets after a long and fruitless night of fishing but he obliged the teacher to use his boat for teaching - at least it was good for something if not catching fish. So they climb in the boat and push off into the water. Jesus continues with his teaching, Simon now listening in from the boat with Jesus. When he finishes, Jesus moves on to his next objective - Simon’s heart. Jesus says, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” (Luke 5:4) Having sat through Jesus teaching, Simon already begins to see that this is no ordinary man. Despite his having fished all night and caught nothing, despite having cleaned the nets already, despite not knowing the man, Simon obeys the command.

The catch that Simon and his partners James and John took in at that moment was so great that the boats themselves could not support the load. It’s instant awe, instant unworthiness, instant fear to encounter a man who has true control over variables that we and every person we’ve ever sat with have absolutely zero control over. “Who then is this? He commands even the winds and the waves, and they obey him!” (Luke 8:25b)

We chase native brook trout, one of the most beautiful and elusive fish in the Adirondack wilderness, and every once in a while we find some fish and experience the joy of the hit, the fight, and then landing and gazing at the beautiful orange and pink spots on the belly of a fifteen inch “brookie”. Jesus doesn’t need to find the fish, he creates them. Jesus doesn’t need to weather the storm, he stills it. Jesus doesn’t need to treat disease, he heals it.

We seek adventure by traveling to areas where we experience a loss of control, how much greater would the adventure be to travel with a guide who has complete control over everything. That would be absolutely crazy. What confidence would you have to know that your guide knows exactly what the best next step is and he’s right next to you to help you through it. Amazingly, that’s exactly the kind of adventure that we are invited into by Jesus. He invites each and every one of us to walk with him, putting our faith entirely in h

is goodness, sovereign control over all things, and sacrifice. He promises to work all things together for the good of those who love him. He invites us to put aside our trivial, temporal pursuits of pleasure and enter into a true adventure following Him in the adventure he has prepared for us.

The next time you sit on a lake for hours without catching a thing, remember Simon and consider the invitation to embark on true adventure with the one true Guide.