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Doug was one of the students who established a local chapter of the Christian Legal Society (CLS). The CLS consists of Christian lawyers, judges, and students.
One student hated the idea of a Christian group meeting on campus and brought the matter before the Student Council. We were called to defend our presence on campus.
Each of us was eager to argue our case, but Doug was certain the Lord was calling him to do so. We agreed.
Doug went before the Council without…
Read MoreOn a solo Sierra trip, to a rarely fished section of Rock Creek well away from most fisherfolk, I spotted a likely spot through the brush that rimmed the wild trout section. I slipped between the willow branches and wild roses, drowned the night crawler a bit without receiving a bite, and carefully backed out, trying not to snag my 9 ft. split bamboo fly rod, or the line, in a vicious branch or rose thorn. But the rod tip struck a branch, the rod flexed and line went all over, taking a good ten minutes to unsnag the mess.
Muttering under my breath in frustration, I blamed my dad. Honest. It was…
Read MoreAs I begin typing this post, I’ve been waiting on hold 2 hours and 12 minutes for help from Frontier Internet’s “Premium Tech Pro,” which costs an additional $10. That’s in addition to having waited another 9.5 hours dealing with their “tech support,” and having made 10 previous calls. Am I frustrated? Of course, but I gained a tremendous life lesson. No, not to avoid Frontier, but that may happen. I’ve learned to not ask God for patience. I did ask for that, repeatedly, over two days. 6 dropped calls. Inaccurate information given by self-proclaimed “internet experts.” Messing up my internet connections. A simple beginning here, we switched internet from Spectrum to the new combo of Verizon/Frontier. Better speeds, they said…
Read MoreThousands of crystal white stars pierced the stark darkness of the night sky above the Owens Valley, but jammed together so densely that you couldn’t stick a needle in the dark without hitting white. Sprawled out on our sleeping bags laid on three furniture moving pads, Dad and talked of much, and I asked, “Ever see anything strange up here at night?”
Dad paused, then told a story he’d only told…
Read More140 years ago, this gravestone of my great great grandfather was fresh and clear. Now, the information about his life can only be read with difficulty. Not long ago my wife and I traveled to Park City Utah, near the birthplace of my father, to combine a week's vacation and a family heritage tour. Thomas Jefferson Thurston pioneered a valley east of Ogden, accumulated a number of worthwhile accomplishments in his 80 years, and passed away in St. George UT in 1885. But outside his family and a few historians, few know of him (yes, he was…
Read MoreOn my ride to meet Rich in Grand Junction to tour Colorado and New Mexico, I stopped in Mesquite, Nevada to fill my bike’s tank at a Sinclair station and my belly with a Western Bacon Cheeseburger at Carl’s Jr. The mediocre burger could have been an omen. 50 miles later, beyond St. George, I noticed the gas gauge was almost zero, with 30 miles of range left. That bothered me, my CTX1300 can near 200 miles on a tank, so I slowed down and looked for a station before my scheduled stop 50 more miles in Cedar City. The needle continued to fall, then found a station 10 miles before Cedar. With the new gas, the mileage slowly improved, leading me to suspect I got some bad gas in Mesquite.
That night my stomach…
Read MoreEarly October of this year featured a five-day trip to Rock Creek, about 25 miles north of Bishop on 395. This celebrated a Riter centennial: Dad first traveled up here on a washboard dirt road in 1925, and he got me hooked on Sierra fishing, camping, and Fords. On the second day, my sis now living in Kentucky called, and the topic of trout came up. She declared she didn’t care for them, too many bones. Being trained in debate, and knowing the tastiness of trout, I used an old line, “Life is like eating fish: pick out and discard the bones, and enjoy the meat.”
She didn’t buy that, but…
Read MoreMy two years in Taos transformed my life—giving me challenges and encouragement to enter the ministry, making lifelong deep friends. Something about the plains yielding to the mountains, the striking crystal-clear blue sky, the blend of three cultures, and soul thrilling outdoor options. I suspected John Denver had been reading my mail in his line, “He was born in the summer of his 27th year, coming home to a place he’d never been before.” I came, I saw, I loved it, I knew it.
But when Rich and I rode into Taos last summer…
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