Inspiration From the Other Side

Our last camp together – left to right, Forrest Casey, Greg Stephens, and Ted Stephens

Mark Twain said, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than the things you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” In short, follow your dreams now and don’t wait. Be that brain surgeon, astronaut, or even President of the United States, and the sooner you start the journey the sooner you’ll get there. With that thought in mind, as parents, we always want the best for our children and encourage them to achieve greatness. My parents were no different. As a child I was taught that I could accomplish anything on which I set my mind. So, you can imagine my father’s frustration when he asked all through my high school and college days what I wanted to do with my life and my answer was, “Truthfully Dad, all I want to do is trap, hunt, and fish.”

As parents the mistake many of us make is deciding for our children what success is, in advance of our children discovering who they really are. Some folks find harmony with this life by discovering scientific truth as an astrophysicist at Cambridge University while others simply dream of owning their own business and interacting with the common man as a hot dog vendor on the corner in New York City. I wanted to be a mountain man. The American Indians believed you could find wisdom in your dreams and after a dream that I had a few years ago, I believe that my dad now understands and accepts where I find success and harmony with this life on earth. My father had passed away in April, 1997, just 25 days before my son, Alex, was born. When you loose a loved one and then have a dream in which they speak directly to you, it’s as if you’ve touched the other side. To this day I remember the experience vividly; I saw his eyes and I heard his voice. The morning of my dream I drifted from the dream into the hazy, early morning light of my bedroom almost without waking but rather walking through a door of consciousness from one place to another. And as I recollected our conversation, I realized there had been others in my dream that I had recognized as well.

In the dream I had entered a doorway into a room that opened into a great landscape covered by a sea of men that stretched as far and wide as the eye could see. They were all standing at attention, each looking over and around the other, quietly and intently staring at me. There were thousands of them stretching back to the horizon and I could feel their collective consciousness bearing down on me. Standing in front of this great mass of men was my father, Ted Stephens. To his sides were old hunting friends, Forrest Casey, Alton Moreland and Clifton Gray, each dressed in their hunting garb as they were the last time I remembered hunting with them. To my amazement, directly behind them I recognized some of my greatest heroes: Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett, Jim Bridger, and Theodore Roosevelt, to name a few.

In front of this collection of outdoor influences from my past, I felt as if I were a neophyte standing before a vast fraternity from the ages to which I aspired to belong. However, from a surreal sense, I knew there was no test to belong to this group. Membership was attained through a life’s work. They fully expected my 100% dedication to their cause. In this world there would be no reward for this dedication, no final day of victory, no promise of rest at the end of the long journey, only eternal vigilance. The only reward for being counted among the ranks of this mountain man fraternity was the satisfaction of knowing that the torch of our connection with Mother Nature had not gone out in my hands.

As I looked on in amazement over the sight, my gaze came back to my father. He simply looked me straight in the eye and said, “Greg, you owe us. It’s up to you now.” And then they were gone. While in my life’s journey, as I am “throwing off the bowlines” in my aspirations to trap, hunt, and fish, from the spirit world Dad , in his typical fashion, is piling on more responsibility and he isn’t going to let it be easy. Some things just never change!

Still assigning chores from the Happy Hunting Grounds. The One-Eyed Hillbilly and his father, their last deer season, 1996.

So, today, as a staunch supporter of the U.S. Sportsman’s Alliance Trailblazer Adventure Day program, I am encouraging families and youth to experience the Great Outdoors. Perfect truth when living in harmony with Mother Nature is a goal worthy of passing on to all in this technological age. To learn more about the organization and program, visit www.ussportsmen.org and www.trailblazeradventure.org If you know of any organization interested in hosting such an event, contact the U.S. Sportsman’s Alliance and set one up today – it’s free! Yesterday is a canceled check, today is cash, and tomorrow is a promissory note. Let’s spend our cash wisely on the future generations. Our outdoor heritage is all of our charge. So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly. Good luck, be safe, and get a big one.