adventure

I'm a man and I hate asking for directions. This story proves that point.

Friday afternoon, we were getting ready to leave for the Theology Retreat. I was supposed to ride with Tommy (who knew where we were going) and others, but instead, I decided to ride with Chad and Jonny (who didn't know where they were going) so that I could help them find the destination. Because I'd been to Camp Elkanah before. Four years before... So no need to pick up a map...

We started driving and I at least remembered that the camp was near LaGrande, Oregon. And I thought it was near the freeway...

Then we got to LaGrande. And I was confused. So I texted my boss, who grew up in LaGrande. He told me the exit number, and we'd only passed it by 10 miles or so...

We turned around and were sure it was on the north side of the freeway. After driving onto private property and through many dark and remote roads, Jonny declared "this isn't it." So we turned around...

The sign for an information center sounded great. But we couldn't find that. But a mile down the road, we did find a house where two guys were skinning a buck they'd killed only hours before (they wouldn't shake Chad's hand because their hands were bloody). And they told us the truth: that the camp was 10 miles down the road and on the right. So much for my "near the freeway" theory. So much for me being the one who helped guide...

We made it, but we missed dinner have arrived an hour and a half late (but microwaves are amazing...). It was an adventure full of great conversations. I have no regrets.