Reminiscing with Friends

After our hot visit up the Coeur d’Alene River, Linda and I were going through our usual routine of cleaning up the camper when a text popped up out of the blue from our friends Dave and Connie McKenzie. Connie wanted to know if we’d be around the upcoming Sunday and Monday — and if we’d like to join them for an overnight stay in a cabin along the St. Joe. They were heading up with some friends we hadn’t seen in years: Jim Clift and Clair Jessie. Also joining the group were Tami Haft and Bob Grigg.

This is where the family tree starts sprouting branches. Clair worked with Connie, Tami, and me at NIC. Linda and I also know Clair and Jim through river running, and we’ve been on many trips together over the years. I know Bob from my Hashing days with IEH3. Dave was a student at NIC and worked for me in Rec Sports. Crazy, right? And the tree keeps growing. Clair and Jim were renting the cabin from Mike Ferman (not in attendance), a rafting friend of theirs. Linda and I have been on many trips with Mike too — we even attended his wedding and know the whole Furman clan.

So that’s how this whole group, connected by work, rivers, rafting, hashing, and a few decades of shared stories, came together for a visit to catch up on everyone’s lives.

We drove up the St. Joe River to Calder, then took the first right upriver and wound our way along dusty roads until we came upon a big red truck parked off to the side. That was our landmark. We took a right at the truck and entered the Furman Ranch. A short drive down a hill brought us to a beautiful cabin set off and above the river — tucked just far enough away to feel private, but close enough to hear the steady rush of the St. Joe below.

Jim prepared the ribs while Connie and Clair gathered the bounty of goodies everyone had contributed. Before long the counters were covered with snacks, dips, cheeses, and all the little treats that seem to magically appear whenever this group gets together. We talked and laughed as we nibbled on hors d’oeuvres, washing everything down with a myriad of beverages. It was one of those easy, comfortable times where conversation rolls from one story to the next without anyone noticing the hours passing.

Dinner was fantastic — everyone dug into the ribs and all the sides — and after we finished eating, we drifted out onto the porch. From there we watched the sun slide down behind the hills and listened to the river below. The evening settled in around us as we shared adventures, old memories, and the kind of stories that only come out when friends haven’t seen each other in far too long.

The next morning we woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of the river. Jim fired up breakfast, and before long we were all gathered around a spread of pancakes, eggs, bacon, fruit, and more coffee than any of us probably needed. The stories picked up right where they left off the night before — river trips, NIC memories, hashing adventures, and all the little twists life has taken since we last saw each other.

Eventually, though, it was time to clean up and head out. Dishes were washed, bags were packed, and we said our goodbyes, promising not to let so many years pass before the next visit.

As we drove back down the dusty road toward Calder, Linda and I agreed that the overnight had been exactly what we didn’t know we needed — a reminder of how friendships, even when stretched across time and distance, can snap right back into place the moment you sit down together. The St. Joe has always been a river full of memories for us, and now it holds one more