Golf and a Pack Mule Wrangler

You never know who you are going to meet when you head out on an adventure with the Holy Spirit. But what you do know is that the encounter will have eternal significance. This week we went to the entrance of Glacier Park to the south end of McDonald Lake, a pristine glacier carved lake surrounded by the Glacier Park Peaks. About 2 miles south of the Lake is a small hidden municipal golf course. Glacier View Golf Course is a 55 year old gem where every fairway is cut through the tall spruce, firs and pines and where vistas of the glorious mountains of Glacier Park peak through the branches. The bent grass greens and fairways contrast against the deep blue skies of this glimpse of heaven. It is a simple blue collar course blessed with a setting like no other. 

Karen and I pulled in the gravel parking lot and decided to try it out on a whim. As I was paying I heard some talk about an evening men’s game later that day. So I asked if we could play 9 holes and then come back for the men’s event later. I wanted to meet and play with some of the locals. The course is short and simple, a reprieve from my normal game on difficult courses in Texas. It reminded me of Utopia because of its simplicity and setting and unpretentiousness.

I was paired with a young man in his mid thirties named Mike. He was tall and athletic and such an engaging and kind soul. It was evident he could play this game well. As we played his story began to unfold and what a life. He is a pack mule/horse wrangler who is responsible for packing in supplies weekly, deep into the Bob Marshall Wilderness area of Montana just up the road. He delivers life giving food and equipment to work crews that spend the entire summer cut off from civilization. Mike leads a train of 10-20 mules all alone, some 60 miles into grizzly country each week. He is in essence the source of their sustenance. He carries a 45 caliber side arm for protection and a fly rod for his heart. He often stops the train of pack mules for a drink from a mountain stream while he wets a line in waters that have seldom if ever been fished. What a life. 

I suppose every young boy with an adventurous spirit would dream of just such a job. Mike made it happen. I asked what he does on the trail and he said, “I think about life.” Don’t we all. Each of us is on a trail ride through life contemplating its meaning. 

At the end of the 9 hole two man scramble, we realized we had shot a 29, six under par, winning the prize that day. Winning wasn’t important, not even a blip on the radar of this day. Sharing stories was the purpose. Relationship was the outcome. And at the end he was interested in reading “greatness” on the pack mule journey the next day. I told him that the final and sealed chapter entitled “The Final Frontier” would encourage him as he continues to “think about life” deep into the Bob Marshall Wilderness of Montana. I can picture him  as I write to you, turning the pages while riding his horse and leading a train of pack mules through the enchanting forrest of the Montana back country.

God’s timing and purposes for our encounters always leaves me in awe.

“You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.”
- Isaiah 55:12 NIV