Into the Wild

Hearts pounding with excitement, we paddled our canoes back and forth across the inlet, casting into the most pristine waters in America.

We were in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, a million acres of unspoiled waterways in Minnesota, along the Canadian border. The water was so pure we drank it straight from the lake. The wilderness was so remote we saw no one for days.

We rigged each hook with our best effort to tempt the fish. We were not disappointed. The lines had barely touched the water before we felt the teasing nibbles of a walleye or the snap of a northern pike.

We netted so many fish that we got picky, keeping only the fattest walleyes for our frying pan. It was a fantasy morning of fishing, yet that was not our purpose for being together. The goal of the trip was to invest into the lives of three boy — Michael and Matthew Stanley, ages 12 and 11, and Jacob Stone, age 11.

Bruce Van Wyk, the 67-year-old grandfather of the boys, organized the Boundary Waters adventure to break the barriers that often exist between the generations. This was the third such trip. Each quest has been an opportunity to create memories, forge friendships and build a legacy of faith for the boys.

"I'm trying to be proactive," Bruce said. "You have to want to relate, and then you have to intentionally look for avenues to communicate that are mutual interests."

Paul Stanley and Mark Stone, the fathers of the boys and Bruce's sons-in-law, led their sons into the wilderness. They say the hard work, camaraderie and thrill of being outdoors deeply influence the boys.

Outdoor challenge

I am Bruce's other son-in-law, and though my own sons are not yet old enough to join the adventure, I tagged along to see what it was all about.

No motors are allowed in the 1,200 miles of canoe routes in the Boundary Waters. So our group made two portages, hiking from lake to lake with three canoes and countless bags on our backs. Our destination was a place so prized, it could never be named in a magazine.

Paul and Mark both said the physical labor was one of the most valuable aspects of the trip. Their sons learned to value "sweat equity," investing hard work to earn the reward of being in pristine wilderness.

The physical hardships on the trip also gave Paul the chance to encourage his boys. He built them up to take on the challenge by saying: "We're not going to complain. You guys are strong. You guys are capable."

His encouragement worked. The boys never complained, even when they were paddling into relentless headwinds or when the leather straps from heavy bags dug into their shoulders during the portages.

Sometimes, the boys saw their dads model a positive attitude in the face of a physical test. When Jacob's sleeping bag was somehow forgotten in the chaos of packing for the trip, Mark didn't blink an eye. He gave his to his son, then tossed and turned for three nights without a bag.

The still quiet

During our three days in the Boundary Waters, the distractions of modern American life were gone. No iPods or video games; no cell phone coverage or e-mail access. The men's minds were just as free from preoccupation with work.

Time slowed down and the most basic chores took on deeper significance. One day at camp, Mark spent an unhurried hour with Jacob by his side, rigging their lines, untying tangles and attaching a hook and spinner to get ready for the next fishing venture.

"Do you like fishing?" Jacob asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm out here; I'm with you. This is great!" Mark responded. Mark then told stories from his own childhood of fishing and trapping small animals in the Texas woods.

Paul's hours alone in a canoe with his boys gave him time to teach them new skills — such as steering the canoe or handling a prickly fish — and relate in a way they never could have at home.

"While we were fishing, we were talking and connecting," Paul said. "Nothing around but you and the experience, making a memory that counts."

Intentional fathers

Both Paul and Mark take a proactive approach to fatherhood. Paul has conducted a rite of passage for his son called teen challenge — a list of accomplishments to be completed between Michael's 12th and 13th birthdays.

The spiritual aspect of Michael's teen challenge sparked one of the highlights of the trip. Michael had to memorize James 1:2-18. After reciting the verses, Michael said that the passage had led him to pray more at school. The verse then launched the men into an hour-long discussion, including advice and testimony about God's faithfulness in the midst of trials.

"You notice it says consider it pure joy when trials hit, it doesn't say if," Paul noted.

When we talked about our Christian heritage, the significance of godly parenting was not lost on Michael, who said, "If he weren't a Christian, I probably wouldn't be a Christian. I'm fortunate."

Spectacular ending

That afternoon brought another highlight. We'd saved three northern pike, each of them about 24 inches long, from one of our fishing ventures. We paddled into the lake and set them on a rock that was exposed like a tabletop to see if they would attract any birds of prey.

Then we sat on a rock and watched the sky. "Like waiting for fireworks to start on the Fourth of July," 11-year-old Matthew said.

The bald eagles were 1,000 feet above and maybe miles away when we spotted them. One by one, like airplanes in a landing pattern, the imposing birds — three feet tall with a wingspan twice that — glided toward the rock. Their hoods gleamed white, their talons bright yellow against the sky. We held our breath as they swooped in, picked up the fish and, with mighty flaps of their wings, soared away.

When all three fish were taken, we burst into applause.

It was the best part of the adventure. As Bruce said, "We sat and witnessed nature at work the way God intended it to be and not a word was spoken."