How some Anasazi Dwell in Heaven

Posted on June 13, 2022 by admin

I am fascinated by the Anasazi, the now-extinct people (also known as “Ancestral Puebloans”) who lived in what is now called the Four Corners region of the American Southwest, comprising southeastern Utah, northeastern Arizona, northwestern New Mexico, and southwestern Colorado. While various groups of these peoples lived in differing habitations, I am primarily captivated by the cliff-dwellers. I am one of a very tiny set of contemporaries who have seen this particular set of ruins. Quoting from my recent book, Is there Hope for the Unsaved?: The Biblical Truth about Salvation You (Probably) Won’t Hear in Church Anasazi ruins few have seen. Photograph by Robert Bennett.

My friend Denis peering up at the ruins (to give you a sense of scale).


“As I write these words, I am a few days removed from a backpacking trip in Canyonlands National Park in southeastern Utah. Two companions and I hiked the Salt Creek Canyon and saw some amazing sights. Steep canyons plunging twelve hundred feet creating depth and shadows. Wind and water erosion carving tiers of sandstone in differing colors and hardness into arches, mushroom rocks, and other architectural designs of God’s creative whimsy. But the most amazing discoveries to me were the remarkably intact ruins left behind by the ancient Anasazi over eight hundred years ago. Here, built into cliffs and beneath sandstone underhangs, were tiny dwellings made of small blocks of stone and mortared with adobe mud. These dwellings resemble wasps’ nests under the eaves of a house. Along with the dwellings we found crude tools for grinding maize into meal, potsherds, and even tiny corn cobs preserved by the desert clime.

Remarkable potsherds some 800 years old.


As I pondered the difficult lives of the smallish people who dwelt in the cliffs in this remote canyon a thousand years ago, I considered how different these ancient people were than we moderns, or even the people at the time of Jesus. The primitive Anasazi had no written language, no metal tools or weapons, no domestic animals, no wine. Yet the promise that the eternal gospel has been preached to each person in this tribe in their own language is true if you trust in the Word of God. You see, Jesus came for these people too.”

It takes a vivid imagination to consider the lives these people lived, up there so high in the cliffs in their tiny abodes. Presumably, they built their homes in the cliffs for defensive purposes, but these communities were so remote and desolate that if invaders attacked even once a generation, it would be surprising. The problems of an existence high in the cliffs would be daunting. Sleepwalkers would be ruthlessly culled from the herd by their own disorder. The obtaining, storing and transportation of water had to have been a monumental undertaking. Even bodily eliminations would prove problematic.

Not long after I returned to Denver from my trip, I came across Rev. 7: 9-10. In this passage, God allows the Apostle John to peer into heaven and report his findings. John witnesses a great celebration.

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice:

“Salvation belongs to our God,
who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.”

According to John’s eye-witness testimony, every tribe is represented around the throne of the Lamb, including the Anasazi. But how can this be? The Anasazi went extinct 150 years before Columbus ever set foot upon the New World. Doesn’t the Bible emphatically declare that Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life, and no one comes to the Father except through Jesus? (John 14: 6). So how could the Anasazi have possibly come to trust in Jesus when it would have been impossible to hear the gospel through any missionary work?

Again, the Bible is very clear the Anasazi received the gospel message. First the Apostle Paul tells us in no uncertain terms: “This is the gospel that you heard and that has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven, and of which I, Paul, have become a servant” (Colossians 1: 23b). Every creature under heaven describes the Anasazi, as well as you and me, doesn’t it?
Next, John also informs us the gospel is preached universally: “Then I saw another angel flying in midair, and he had the eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth—to every nation, tribe, language and people” (Rev. 14-6).

So, it’s clear from the above passages the Anasazi received the gospel in their own language. How could that happen? Did some mysterious shaman preach the gospel of Jesus Christ in Anasazian, or whatever the language of the Anasazi? No, almost certainly not. No, the Bible seems to clearly indicate the Anasazi (and countless other tribes) received the gospel after they died.

Listen to the words of the Apostle Peter: “For this is the reason the gospel was preached even to those who are now dead, so that they might be judged according to human standards in regard to the body, but live according to God in regard to the spirit” (1 Peter 4:6).
Still need convincing? Then hear the words from Jesus himself. He says, “Very truly I tell you, a time is coming and has now come when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God and those who hear will live” (John 5:25, emphasis mine).

When Peter and Jesus reveal the gospel is preached to the Anasazi – and all others – upon their deaths, this concept is theologically known as post-mortem revelation. Even when the gospel is presented flawlessly upon their death, the Anasazi – like all others – have the choice to accept God’s love or reject it. Let me ask you this: Has your church ever preached or taught post-mortem revelation? Leave a comment in the comments or email me at denverbennett@msn.com.

You might understand better the subtitle in my book which explores these concepts in depth – Is there Hope for the Unsaved: The Biblical Truth about Salvation You (Probably) Won’t Hear in Church.

Coming soon. This writer will theorize his best guess as to the mystery of the Anasazi extinction. Was it war? Famine? Drought? Mass-hysteria? Be sure to tune in.

Posted in Christian, Salvation, Theology | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Green River Canoe Trip Part Three

Posted on July 31, 2020 by admin

Day Three brought about a certain dread in me, and I expect at least Chalmers, Pat and Becky as well as several others felt the same way. The wind was still powerful and howling and mostly in our face. In order to combat the wind, we had to paddle continuously and sometimes furiously (and sometimes quite fearfully). As Chalmers and I battled the wind, our collective inexperience in handling the canoe required me to paddle almost exclusively on the left side of the canoe, tiring one set of muscles and sinews quite grievously. I had brought two pairs of gloves, but lost both of them to the river on Day Two, so my hands were becoming raw, eventually blistering. Some of the stronger members exchanged places so as to split up the lesser experienced paddlers.

Since I had lost my gloves, the red bandana somewhat protected my hand.

While the Green flows mostly south/southwest, it also meanders significantly. Thus we had to adjust to substantial changing wind angles with every bend in the river. The original US explorer of the river (as well as the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon) was a man named John Wesley Powell. In his first exploratory journey in 1869, he named one section of the river Bowknot Bend. He noted in his journal that he passed a promontory and nine miles later he passed within 600 feet from where he started. You will not be surprised to learn that Lake Powell is named after the noted explorer.

Nine miles later, you’re 600 feet from where you started

Many times it looked as the the river simply dead-ended

We survived a grueling Day 3 without anyone capsizing, but we were tired. Days 4, 5, and 6 saw a diminution of the winds each day; sometimes in Days 5 and 6 we were able to lash several canoes together, put on some tunes, and enjoy a beer or two on the river. Since Chalmers and I had lost most of our beer on Day 2, we rationed our beer closely. We later found out that due to the winds, very little beer had been consumed on the river so that by the end of the trip there was a significant surplus.

The first half of the trip the Green flowed through BLM land (no, not Black Lives Matter but rather the Bureau of Land Management). The 2nd half flowed through Canyonlands National Park. Some stringent regulations governed aspects of our activity. For example, we were forbidden to have campfires except in a 16 inch diameter portable metal fire ring. We were also required to pack out our bodily waste, so we rented two cube-shaped metal boxes with a detachable seat for our toilets, which we nicknamed the “Groovers” (so named because an earlier, less comfortable, version of the device left grooves on one’s backside). One of the groovers was for the 11 men and the other was for the 3 women. I know, it seems a little unfair. Towards the end of the trip a few select men were allowed to use the women’s groover. I was not so selected. We drew lots on the onset of the trip for “groover duty.” I drew the slip for “3W,” meaning I had the good fortune of placing and transporting the women’s groover on the 3rd day when it was relatively light. Woe to the person who drew 6M or 7M. I was on pins and needles worrying about our toilet paper supply, as Chalmers and I lost the vast proportion of our stocks into the river on Day Two. However, through conservation and the fact that most people had some private supplies, we found we just had just enough TP to last our 8 days. I was relieved. Regulations also required that all urine was to be deposited in the river and not on dry land. Buckets were placed near the men’s and women’s groovers to collect urine. I did not strictly adhere to this regulation.

“Tex” is the name of our outfitter.

Other than the people, perhaps the most appealing aspect of our journey on the river was the spectacular scenery. Each day the rims of the canyon walls grew higher and more dramatic. Moreover, due to the natural forces of erosion (or to God’s whimsy, if you prefer) we could make out recognizable features in the landscape: faces of people, aliens, cartoons and animals, as well as various sundry objects. Very entertaining.

We did not encounter much wildlife other than birds. Herons, hawks, eagles and vultures were plentiful. Smaller birds, other than swallows, not so much, in large part because the tamarisk makes unsuitable habitat. Bats came out in the evening. They were actually pretty cool and did their part in keeping the mosquito population in check. Our last campsite featured the most varied wildlife. There was a large doe, a muley I think, in camp. In the evening, a small flock of wild turkeys alighted in the tree above us, unconcerned with the 14 humans underneath. (We, however, were concerned about being shat upon.) One day I thought I saw a mountain lion, but I remain unsure. Small lizards were plentiful, and annoying mosquitoes and other insects were more so. Ellen’s favorite, the wolf spider, fell out of the trees and into the bottom of the canoes. There were a number of squirrels and other rodents as there seem to be almost everywhere else in the world, if you think about it.

As far as the weather, I have already talked about the wind. I estimate that of the 123 miles on the river, we faced a headwind during around 85 of them. In addition to the wind, there was the heat, averaging some 95 degrees during the day. It was unremitting, too, as the sun shone upon us about 99% of the time during daylight hours. Sunburn was thus a problem, especially on the legs. I mitigated the problem by placing a river-soaked towel over my thighs.

Jim Boucier’s hat kept the hot sun at bay

We made an interesting group decision toward the end of the trip. We made the decision to reach our destination on Day 6 rather than Day 7. This would enable us to spend two days in the same campsite and we could go hiking rather than canoeing. That meant a 29 mile Day 6, but it was worth it. By Day 6, winds were less of an issue, except for the last four miles, which coincided with our time on the Colorado River, a scant four miles after the confluence between the Green and the Colorado Rivers. The confluence was interesting. The Green was warmer and muddier with silt than the Colorado, a clear demarcation where they joined. The Green carried considerably more water than the Colorado, a situation that varies from year to year. A strong headwind came up from the canyon, there were some rapids, and the canoeing became somewhat treacherous. We finally reached our final campsite and faced another challenge: there was no place to park and unload our canoes! The bank was a vertical wall of mud some thirteen feet high. Finally, we figured the best spots and hacked steps into the wall-like bank. It took us some two hours to unload our gear, and we still had to wash the canoes.

There will be at least one more installment. The remaining part of the trip was fascinating and fun. I also want to share with you more about the food and a couple recipes.

Posted in Arches National Park, Canoe Trip, Colorado River, Fishing, Green River, Moab | 2 Comments

Green River Canoe Trip Part Two

Posted on July 3, 2020 by admin

For Part One of this series go here:

Part Two

The headwaters of the Green River originate high in the Wind River mountain range in northwestern Wyoming. Much of the range is on a Native American reservation. I have backpacked in the Winds (with Denis, of course) and it is some of the most rugged, most remote territory in the lower 48. The fishing is spectacular. Abundant snows in the winter begin to melt in the spring which drain into streams which form the Green – ice-cold, crystal clear and sweet – a far cry from the murky waters we canoed in southeastern Utah.

The Noxious Plant

There isn’t really anything in nature I hate. Mosquitoes? I can deal with them. Horseflies? They suck but there are ways to mitigate them. Poison ivy, spiders, snakes? Meh. I must admit, I will probably ask God why he created rats, but I don’t hate them.

But there is a plant I simply detest. It’s called tamarisk, also known as saltcedar. Native to Eurasia, the plant was imported to America where it was planted along small parts of the Green for erosion control. Big Mistake! Unintended consequences! With no natural enemies, the tamarisk aggressively took over both banks of the Green and Colorado rivers, choking off the natural grasses, cottonwoods and willows that formerly graced the riverbanks. Tamarisk provides lousy habitat for birds and wildlife, and alters the pH of the riverbank soil. The plant grows as a tall, dense woody bush up to twenty-five feet high and is, for all intents and purposes, impenetrable. Worst of all, it is an extremely thirsty beast. It is estimated that if the tamarisk had not contaminated the rivers, the Colorado and its main tributary the Green would carry enough additional water for twenty million people per year! Lake Powell and Lake Mead would be consistently full. For canoeists and rafters, the tamarisk provides a clear and present danger: the plant is so thick and impenetrable that if trouble occurs, the tamarisk effectively prevents the canoeist from exiting the river unless he/she is fortunate to find one of the extremely rare clearings where campsites exist. The tamarisk multiplies the danger of the river significantly.

Back to our intrepid fourteen canoeists. The first night as we were relaxing at our campsite, Rock Thompson indicated he could get a weather report via text from some satellite device he had installed if his wife or son sent it to him. They both did. The report could be summed up in four words: hot with heavy winds.

Winds are the bane of almost all outdoor sports and activities, but especially water sports like canoeing, rafting or boating. Unlike on land, where wind impacts, say, your golf ball, it doesn’t impact solid ground like the fairway. On the water, however, the wind not only pushes around your boat, but it also pushes around the surface on which the boat travels in the form of waves. Upon hearing the next day’s forecast, we resolved to get an early start before the winds kicked up in the afternoon.

The second day, of course, we were still loaded to the gills with seven more days of food, fuel, beer and water (we brought in about six gallons of water per person).

The canoes are rated to carry 1,100 lobs

The Green is one big, powerful and deep river by western standards. It’s the 15th longest river in the US. Along the course we traveled, the river averaged about 150 to 250 yards wide and 20 feet deep. When we started our trip the river was flowing about 13,000 cf/s, more than twice its yearly average, the current a little more than 4 mph.

If you note in the accompanying map, you will see that our overall direction was south/SW. Which was exactly in the face of a 25-30 mph wind with gusts up to 40. Just like a sustained uphill will string out cyclists or runners, a strong steady headwind spread out our canoes, with the stronger, more experienced members pulling ahead.

Chalmers and I were in the sixth canoe. It was about noon, I believe, when we heard shouts from behind us. About sixty yards to our rear, we saw Pat and Becky in the water, their canoe capsized. Oh no! We shouted ahead for Denis, who was in the canoe with Jayson and finally alerted them that Becky and Pat were in serious trouble. Chalmers and I considered trying to turn upstream to help, but in the wind, we couldn’t risk turning our canoe broadside. So we made our way to the bank, where we latched onto some tamarisk to hold us until Becky and Pat passed us. They were hanging for dear life to the canoe, Becky clutching to her paddle. We didn’t know this at the time, but the bow rope had entangled her legs.

By this time Denis and Jayson were in full rescue mode. They too had slowed their canoe with the tamarisk and allowed Pat and Becky’s canoe to pass. Once past their position, Denis and Jayson paddled alongsige and located a rope, but they were unable to get the capsized canoe to the bank. The damned tamarisk! We must have floated another mile or so without a spot to bring the capsized canoe to shore when Denis began to worry. “We’ve got to get them out of the water,” he said with exasperation and concern in his voice. Finally, there was a little cove where we could get Becky and Pat’s canoe near enough to the bank where they could finally get mostly out of the water. Their canoe was now roped to Chalmers and mine and I was able to tie off to some tamarisk. Becky and Pat were visibly shivering, and they were in shade and water above the knee. Still really cold.

Getting Pat and Becky’s canoe river-worthy once more was a long and difficult process. Thank God Denis’s engineering mind was there to figure out the logistics. All the gear was roped in, so Denis had to cut the rope to free a piece of gear, send the gear to Pat where Pat would stow the gear in the tamarisk, and then tie off the remaining gear to keep it from floating down the river. And then repeat the process.

We ran into a little good luck. A raft manned by a young family, Joe and Christine and two pre-teen children, moored alongside us and did what they could to help. We had met them the evening before. But just the fact they were there heartened us in a significant way. Denis and Pat finally got all the gear to the bank, and we eventually got the capsized canoe upright, although full of water. Denis, Jayson, Joe, and Chalmers bailed the water from the boat. Gear was repacked, and Pat and Becky gingerly boarded the canoe and we were once again on the river. (But not for long.) By my reckoning, Becky and Pat were in the water about forty-five minutes and it took us another two hours to restore their canoe, so we were hours behind the four canoes which made up the rest of the party.

The weather had not improved at all once we were back on the river. Chalmers and I struggled to maintain control of our canoe. It was my turn to organize lunch, so I removed the pulled pork from the cooler and set it on the bow to warm up in the sun. I didn’t like being ahead of Becky and Pat in case they had additional problems. Chalmers and I started to head toward the bank when we were hit by a gust and then a wave broadsided us. “Bob! Bob!” shouted Chalmers. I frantically tried to force the bow into the wind, but it was too late. The canoe had taken too much water, and in seconds we were totally swamped. I was still seated in the canoe but water covered me up to the neck. I yelled to Jayson who was nearby to scoop up the pulled pork (he couldn’t).

My mind was racing with emotions. I felt little fear but considerable dismay. A dry box had opened and its contents spilled into the river: a case of toilet paper bobbing on the surface, paper plates and bowls, other items deemed critical for our comfort and/or survival. I thought about the other thirteen people on the trip and how they would manage to make it through the next week without toilet paper. Then one 2 ½ gallon container of water, then another, lost to the river (we were later able to recover one). Equally disheartening was the loss of first one twelve-pack of India Pale Ale, and then a six-pack. The canoe threated to capsize, but I was able to keep it upright through pressure on top of a buoyant cooler.

I began to consider our options. We had no ability to influence the path of the canoe. None. We could abandon the canoe and our gear and swim to the river’s edge, but the damned tamarisk would keep us from safety unless we were extremely lucky. Fortunately, the other eight in our party had found a good-sized sandbar where they would wait out the weather and wait for the rest of us to catch up. They knew we had experienced trouble as a yard sale of our supplies floated by.

Then around a sharp bend we saw them and they, us. We happened upon them so quickly, they almost couldn’t react in time. Quick-thinking Rick had a throw bag, (a weighted bag attached to a long rope) and threw it too us, but we couldn’t reach it, and were almost out of reach. With Ellen’s help, Kurt dove into the water and heroically got the rope to Chalmers, who tied it to the stern of the boat. In a true team effort, they were able to drag the canoe upstream to the safety of the sandbar. Meanwhile, Jim had snagged Becky and Pat’s canoe and had them moored to the sandbar.

The empty canoe on the right is Chalmers’ and mine.

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. I don’t exactly remember how our gear got out of the water and onto land. I do know that Ellen and Pam helped Chalmers and me out of some of our wet clothes and had found some dry ones (thanks to Rick, I had his quilted fleece). We hung our river-soaked clothes and my sleeping bag over tree limbs to dry. Nothing I brought stayed dry, but my phone did survive the river in my pocket.

We scrounged together some lunch, although it was mid-afternoon. The planned pulled pork was lost, of course. We then had a debate what to do next. Some thought we could simply camp where we were on the sandbar. But it was too small, and also eroding under our feet. There was a clearing nearby, but the tamarisk was guarding it. We knew from our maps and the experience of Rock, Rick and Denis that there was a campsite on the other side of the river not far from our position. The wind was still blowing and no one was anxious to get back into the canoes. But then a weird and funny thing happened. A group of three or four canoes paddled down the river, totally nonchalant and having a good time, not a care in the world. If they could do it, so could we.

After the rescue, having a bite and figuring out what to do.

We rearranged some of our canoe partners for the tricky trip to the campsite. We split up Pat and Becky and Pam and Ellen, assigning Rock, John, Rick and Jim (or some combination like that) to accompany the others. We made it to our campsite without incident, and setup camp – greatly relieved we were on dry land. A cocktail or two took the edge off. As it turned out, dinner was my responsibility that evening. It was good; we had grilled lamb skewers with tzatziki sauce on pita bread, accompanied by a big Greek salad that Becky helped make. The baklava I brought was somewhat soggy from the river, but we dried it over the grill and it was acceptable. All in all, a good ending to a very extraordinary day.

Becky and Pat earned the respect and admiration of everyone in the party for the way they handled such adversity uncomplaining and with courage and grace.

Day Two was officially a “Red Flag Day,” meaning authorities deemed it dangerous to be on the water. But I’ll not fault Denis or question his decision to go on the river. After all, we had to be at the pickup point several days hence and most of those on the trip were skilled, strong and experienced. But when the weather worsened there was little to do but tough it out. Because, unfortunately, there were few places on the river appropriate to hang out and wait for the weather to improve. The tamarisk.

Part Three will be coming soon.

Posted in Arches National Park, Canoe Trip, Colorado River, Fishing, Green River, Moab | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

Green River Canoe Trip Part One

Posted on June 29, 2020 by admin

“It will be easy,” he said. “It’s basically just a fun float trip,” he said. “And the scenery will be spectacular.” Well, he was right about the last one.

“He,” of course, is Denis Beaudin – the outdoorsman extraordinaire and superb organizer who I have gone on about a dozen such adventures over the years. The thing is, all Denis Beaudin trips tend to be riskier and more challenging than you expect. I don’t know why I didn’t think about that when I asked Denis if I could invite my sister Becky Dolan and her husband Pat from Manchester, Iowa. It would be a stretch for them even under optimal conditions.

Becky and Pat had never done any camping to speak of, but became excited about the upcoming eight-day canoe trip on the Green River in Utah. So, apparently were a number of other people, fourteen in all. Because Denis had asked me to help plan and execute some of the meals, I was somewhat intimidated by the number of mouths to feed. But the people made the trip a success and each person contributed perfectly in his/her own way.

Besides Denis there was his vivacious and pretty wife Pam. Pam, who is always fun to be with, seemed to know where every item and foodstuff was packed in what bin or cooler and her organizational skills rival her husband’s.

Denis and Pam Beaudin

Pam invited her thirteen-year-old grandson, Jayson. To be honest, I was worried about such a youngster on a trip like this. After all, the second youngest person on the trip was his grandmother. But Jayson, a big kid with an unusually cheery countenance, had a great attitude throughout the adventure and improved his canoe skills every day. Really good kid.

I had met Pam’s friend Ellen Eaton once while backpacking with Denis and Pam. Ellen is smart, extremely independent, tough and fearless (except around the saucer-sized wolf spider in the bottom of her boat).

Jayson and Ellen

A couple of guys made the trip all the way from Massachusetts – friends of Denis’ from high school. There was Paul Gravel, who was new to me. Paul is a gregarious man with a great smile, a good physique and a nice singing voice – an immensely likable fellow. The other easterner is Jim Bourcier. I have been on five or six trips with Jim. Garrulous and athletic, Jim always is a good guy to have around. He has great balance and strength and has helped me in past trips fording swift rivers and other difficult circumstances. In this trip he was a monster in loading and unloading our canoes in very challenging situations, among other things.

Denis Paul and Jim

I love the Thompson brothers. I had gone on a backpacking trip a number of years ago with Rock. Rock Thompson has this low speaking voice that most radio personalities would give a left (appendage) for. He is accomplished in too many outdoors and business activities to recount. He refers to me as a Renaissance man, but the term far better describes him. Plus he is astonishingly strong for a man his size. Amazing guy. His brother John is great, too. Even towards the end of the trip, John would appear as if he stepped out of the cover of GQ, as if impervious to the sun, wind, sand and silt that wilted most of the rest of us. John has a good soul – one that has borne more than its share of trials. I hope to go on another trip with John.

Rock Thompson

John Thompson

It took me a couple days to figure out that Rick and Kurt were not actually brothers, too. I have so much respect for Rick Pylman. He is tall, handsome, wise and always knows the right thing to do – a real leader. He is the kind of guy that, if you were a woman, you would want for a husband. Or if you are a man, would want as your boss or business partner.

Rick Pylman

Then there’s Kurt Davis. What a guy! He bears a striking resemblance to Father Mulcahy from the old M*A*S*H television series (although I don’t think he appreciated the comparison). Kurt would always do the dirty work that others were unwilling or unable to do. As a result, he spent far more time in the river than anyone else. I credit Kurt for the having the most important role in rescuing Chalmers and me, a story I’ll get to later.

Kurt Davis

Speaking of Chalmers Turner, he is my travelling, backpacking and canoe partner. I introduced him to Denis a few years ago, and now Chalmers is an indispensable member of every trip. I first met Chalmers on the tennis court over twenty years ago, and we’ve become close friends since his return from a stint in the Peace Corps. He is wiry, strong and has great stamina. He loves to make me laugh and does so frequently.

Me Becky and Chalmers

We all met in Moab, Utah on Thursday, June 12. Pat and Becky had spent the previous night in Denver with Barbara and me. Early on Thursday we headed to Moab, Pat and Becky in their rig and Chalmers and me in mine. Once in Moab, we checked into the Moab Rustic Inn, an excellent motel with an outdoor meeting room where we all met and made introductions, munched on pizza and beer, organized gear and settled our financial arrangements.

On Friday morning (Day One) we met at Tex’s Riverways. Tex’s was our outfitter, where we could rent canoes, camp seats, dry bags, etc. and who would drop us off on the river and pick us up eight days later. They are great and we all recommend their services. We loaded our gear and we took off for the two-hour trip to the put-in point called Chrystal Geyser near the tiny town of Green River, UT.

Putting In with Tex

We got the canoes loaded and tied/strapped down, and pushed into the river for the first of our 123 miles. The weather was good, we experienced some modest rapids in the first mile or so, and we had a great first day, topped off by a marvelous dinner of tenderloin of beef. All in all, a fabulous first day.

But stay tuned for the next installment. Day Two almost ended in disaster and easily could have. You can find it here.

Posted in Arches National Park, Canoe Trip, Colorado River, Fishing, Green River, Moab | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Kavanaugh Will Be Confirmed, Sooner or Later (and Later Might Be Better)

Posted on October 1, 2018 by admin

As Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers might say to nervous supporters of embattled Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, RELAX, he’s going to be confirmed sooner or later.

As a condition of moving Kavanaugh’s nomination out of the Senate Judiciary Committee and on to the full Senate for a confirmation vote, Senator Jeff Flake (R-AZ) demanded from the White House and received a commitment for a new FBI investigation into alleged Kavanaugh sexual misconduct – limited in time (one week) and scope (existing credible allegations).

In my opinion, the FBI will find nothing to substantiate the flimsy accusations of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford and Deborah Ramirez. Ford’s allegations are already falling apart; the questioner at the Senate Judiciary Committee hearings, sex crime expert Rachel Mitchell, released a memo poking holes in Ford’s story. As for Ramirez’ accusation of indecent exposure, even the New York Times – hardly a friend of Trump’s and by extension Kavanaugh – could find no evidence to corroborate the Boulder liberal activist’s claims.

When the FBI report comes in, the Senate should quickly close debate and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) should call for a vote. Republicans currently hold a 51-49 majority in the Senate. If the Republican hold together with zero or one defectors, Kavanaugh will be confirmed and a few red-state senators in tight re-election battles will join the Republicans. A great victory.

But suppose two or even three squeamish Republican Senators vote “no.” Senate Democrats – as disciplined a lot as you’ll find – will vote as a block to deny Kavanaugh a seat and he will be denied. Republican and fair-minded voters everywhere will be outraged at the Democrats’ dirty tricks and the betrayal by the two or three Republicans.

So, will that be the end of Kavanaugh’s candidacy? I don’t think so. Trump is a fighter. Instead of nominating the next person on the list, I think Trump will announce that if the voters in the November mid-terms increase the Republicans’ majority, he will re-nominate Kavanaugh for the Supreme Court. The new Senate will schedule a vote the first chance they have in January, 2019. Currently, I think the Republicans are favored to pick up one to three seats. But all the Democrat Senators in red states carried by Trump such as Heidi Heitkamp (ND), Claire McCaskill (MO), Joe Donnelly (IN), and Jon Tester (MT) will have voted “no.” Each of their Republican opponents will all campaign on being the “51st vote” for confirmation, aided by a rampaging, campaigning Trump himself. The red state Democrats would be trapped. Instead of losing 1-3 seats, I think they would lose 4-6. Squishy Republicans like Susan Collins (ME) and Lisa Murkowski (AK) would lose their influence to block nominations or legislation.

A narrow, early October Senate rejection of Kavanaugh might not be the worst thing from a Republican perspective. In fact, it might be the best.

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Wabakimi Canadian Fishing Trip 2018

Posted on June 12, 2018 by admin

I have gone fishing in NW Ontario almost annually since 1966. It’s a tradition that connects me to my late father, many other fine men – both living and deceased, family members, and the yearning in my soul for the wilderness, where it finds rest and rejuvenation.

This was an unusual trip in many respects: first the participants. Usually, the early June trip is a family trip. This year, however, many of my family members are experiencing the joys of parenthood, with my nephew John Dolan and his wife Angie just giving birth to their new daughter Anna Margaret in April and another nephew – Bob Dolan, along with wife Blair – expecting their first any day now. My brother-in-law, Pat Dolan, was too busy being a proud grandfather to miss the birth of his grandbabies, so he couldn’t go, either.

So, we had my brother Bill Bennett, his son Brett (but his other son Bradley couldn’t make it), and me. We invited some of the other usual suspects, but no one bit the worm. Finally, Bill made known on the website Walleye Central that we were looking for a fourth – the equivalent of a blind date. A couple of guys responded, and Brother Bill made arrangements for Rob Bruesewitz (the Bruiser) to join us.

The Bruiser

If bringing on the Bruiser was a fishing blind date, it was like a blind date with Miss America. Rob was wonderful! He was witty, hard-working (an excellent fish-filleter), experienced (we all picked up some valuable pointers from him) and vastly interesting. He also played some pretty good Pitch – the card game we play up there.

Another thing that made this trip unusual was the sense of the remote wilderness, a wilderness inaccessible by car or cellphone, only by floatplane. What do you do when something goes terribly wrong?

A long number of years ago my Dad and a group of other men including Dr. Paul Searles of Madison, WI were fishing on Wabakimi when a frantic canoeist paddled to their camp pleading for help. His mate, another canoeist, had an accident resulting in a compound fracture of his leg and was teetering in and out of shock. Dad and Paul set out on their boat on a rescue mission. Fortunately, Dr. Paul had brought medical supplies with him. He treated the injured canoeist for pain, then set his leg. Paul fashioned a splint for his leg and treated him with powerful antibiotics. There is no doubt that Paul Searles saved the man’s life. Dad contacted the outfitter, and a rescue plane was dispatched. Paul never heard from the man again – the man probably was afraid of receiving a bill for services rendered.

This year we experienced another such emergency.

First, a little backstory. My brother, Bill, has been Facebook friends with David Campbell of Oklahoma for a number of years, and then I, too, became his friend. The three of us share a love of Lake Wabakimi and fishing, amateur wrestling (David is a recently retired successful high-school wrestling coach and Bill and I were both HS and, in my case, college wrestlers), and a shared faith in Jesus Christ.

David Campbell

David relies on a different outfitter – Pipestone Fly-in Outfitters – than we use. We have developed a great deal of respect for Pipestone and its proprietor, Mike Henry. If we didn’t have such a long and successful relationship with our outfitter, Northern Wilderness Outfitters (NWO), we wouldn’t hesitate to do business with Pipestone.

Last year, David’s daughter, Laura, died shortly before his trip, which corresponded time-wise with our own. David made the gut-wrenching decision to grieve in the solitude and beauty of Wabakimi Lake. Bill and I had the opportunity to meet David in person on the lake, and were able to minister to him.

Fast forward to this year. Again, David and his party of four were at the lake at the same time as our party. Weather was poor the first few days of the trip with wind, rain and cold and we invited David Campbell and his friend, David Klaus, to our cabin for a big bowl of Bill’s famous Walleye Chowder

Walleye Chowder

which warmed us all up. It was great being with our old friend and making a new one.

A few nights later, I was awakened with a full bladder about 3:00 AM. I was outside on the boardwalk between our dock when I heard the faint sound of a motor running. What could it be at that time of night? Then I saw the flash of light on the lake through the trees. Friend or foe?

For the only time that week, I had ventured into the night with my own flashlight and decided it was more likely a friend than foe. I switched on my light and shouted, “What’s going on?” My light and voice pointed the intruder to our dock. It turned out to be a very shaken David Klaus who informed me that David Campbell had suffered a heart attack and was in real trouble. Did we have a satellite phone, he asked.

We did, but one that only was programmed to dial into the NWO’s office, but at three in the morning no one was there to take my call. I tried to leave a message, but I didn’t think it went through. David set out in the dark for the Pipestone cabin, and by now there was at least a little moonlight to help him navigate.

At 5:30 AM when I expected NWO’s office was manned, I called again and told one of the bush pilots that there was an emergency at Pipestone. The pilot said he would relay the information to Pipestone’s Mike Henry. After Bill made coffee, he and I boated over to the Pipestone lodge. A Pipestone float plane was at the dock, and we were relieved to see David Campbell on his feet – though greatly aided – and loaded onto the plane. The plane was to take David about 45 nautical miles to the nearest community, Armstrong, where he would be air-lifted from there to Thunder Bay.

Apparently, it was quite a night in the Pipestone camp. When David had his episode, he fell and bashed his face. The other three guys laid him on a mattress on the floor and several times thought they were about to lose him. David was incoherent and bleeding from his face and even his ears. They fought to keep him conscious.

After the plane left along with one other in the party, Bill and I invited the remaining two, the aforementioned David Klaus and another likable Oklahoman, Larry Burchfield, to fish with us in a remote part of the lake they hadn’t fished before. They also joined us for an epic fish fry.
We later found that David did not suffer a heart attack after all, but had a blood clot in his chest with similar symptoms. He was released from the Thunder Bay hospital the same day! Joyous news.

The second half of the trip the weather turned nice and the fish found their appetites. Brett landed a 43 inch Pike and Rob caught the largest walleye at almost 26 inches. All in all, a most memorable trip.

My nephew Brett

My awesome brother Bill

Yours truly

Posted in Christian, Fishing, Relationships, Thriller | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments

Man’s Best Friend

Posted on January 15, 2018 by admin

Last Friday, we made the difficult decision to euthanize our older, failing dog, Doodle. Doodle was a beloved part of our family since he was a puppy, almost fifteen years ago. Also on Friday, I posted a picture of Doodle on Facebook, announcing our loss.

Doodle, Bob, Barb. and Dandy

The response from my Facebook friends was breathtaking, far more respondents than for say, my birthday. Thank you to everyone who posted comments, responded to the post with an emoji, or simply sent compassionate thoughts and/or prayers our way.

The death of a pet deeply strikes a chord with people. Many friends posted comments, sharing their own painful stories of losing a pet. Others simply shared heartfelt sympathies, but I could sense the unspoken pain of loss in my friends’ comments. Why do people continue to acquire and care for their furry children in spite of the pain resulting from their inevitable deaths? It’s simple: the joy and love received during the life of these animals far exceed the pain of loss.

I don’t really know if a dog is actually capable of love, as we humans understand the concept. Certainly, dogs (and some cats) are capable of loyal devotion similar to love. Consider the famous words of the Apostle Paul to the Corinthians in his well-known love chapter (1 Cor. 13). Does the Godly love that Paul describes also apply to the devotion shown by dogs? In part, the passage: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” To me, the preceding passage describes pretty well how a dog loves a non-abusive owner. No wonder we become so attached to our pets. The inter-species bond we share is powerful.

If only people loved as well as dogs! I’m struck by the number of people of my generation who are divorced or widowed and have given up on love. We humans love each other so imperfectly, because we are so imperfect. We are self-centered and typically fail to love with the kind of love that Paul describes above. It’s hard to love when a lifetime of disappointment and bitterness have given one a heart of stone.

Fortunately, we have a God in the business of helping us become more loving people, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh” (Ezekiel 36:26). Perhaps we could start by loving each other in the way Fido loves – except without jumping up on each other and licking each other’s faces.

Posted in Christian, Relationships | 2 Comments

Death By a Thousand Cuts

Posted on September 19, 2017 by admin

A number of years ago, I attended a writers’ conference in New York City. It was a great experience and I met several wonderful people. One of my favorite persons is a young mother by the name of Jakki Clarke. Perhaps one of the reasons we hit it off is because she is a big sports fan, especially hockey.

Anyway, Jakki has just published her first novel and it’s superb. Here is her cover:

… and here is her Amazon link

Finally, here is my review I posted on Amazon:

Death by a Thousand Cuts is a smartly written novel set in modern-day Camden, NJ – one of the bleakest urban cities in all of America. This is a gritty story full of shady politicians, cutthroat developers and protagonists you want to root for.

When popular journalist Sydney Langston sets out to write a feel-good ‘where-are-they-now’ story about the successes of recent graduates of the city’s new, ultra-modern high school, she is troubled by what she finds. Despite the advantages the $320M high school, many of the school’s grads are failing at life, and failing miserably. As she digs deeper, she finds that sinister forces don’t want her to discover the truth and will do anything to stop her.

Jakki Clarke has written a remarkable story. Her prose leaps off the page and every word seems perfect, even surprising, Elmore Leonard-esque. I look forward to more stories by her.

Posted in Book Review, Mystery, Thriller | Tagged , | 1 Comment

What Is Wrong with People?

Posted on June 14, 2017 by admin

Barb and I left the house for church Sunday morning. I looked up on the hooks where I store my bicycle in the garage and had a sinking feeling. Someone had stolen my bike. From my garage. While we were home. In a gated community.

The bicycle was not particularly valuable. Yet it had high sentimental value as it was the bike I rode last year from Anacortes, Washington to Bar Harbor, Maine, over 4,000 miles.

It’s just a thing, a possession. I can get a different bike and probably a much better one. But I am extremely disappointed that someone would steal something so brazenly.

Rode this bike from WA to ME

Then I saw on Facebook that someone had stolen this unique Easter Island-type mailbox from my dear friend and editor Rosemary Strong. Irreplaceable. What is wrong with people?

Rosemary Strong’s Unique Mailbox

Yes, this is a fallen world. And petty theft is far from the most serious thing that’s wrong with it. But Rosemary and I both live in upper middle class neighborhoods and the culprits are likely neighbors. How many of the Seven Deadly Sins were committed? It’s sad.

Posted in Relationships, Theology | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Happy Superman Day!

Posted on June 13, 2017 by admin

Did you know that June 12th is Superman Day?

I suppose it’s only fitting to honor our greatest superhero. After all, he is a selfless proponent for truth, justice and the American way.

In the spirit of Superman Day, I wish to announce that I have written a book on the humanity of Jesus entitled, “The Superman Syndrome,” which will be released shortly.

Some people compare Superman to Jesus. Was Jesus the first superhero? Superman can fly and has X-ray vision; Jesus can walk on water and raise the dead. But has our cultural obsession with the superhero phenomenon colored our perception of the historical Jesus? Scripture tells us the Eternal Son “emptied himself” and sacrificed so much when God became man in the form of a baby born in Bethlehem.

In this fascinating and insightful study we explore the nature of the man, Jesus of Nazareth. What does the Bible say about His humanity and divinity and the source of His power? Was He omnipotent? Omniscient? Or do believers today have access to the same power that enabled Jesus to heal the sick and cast out demons?

Posted in Christian, Theology | Tagged , , | 3 Comments