It was a cold but sunny winter day in the 1960s, not unlike some of the days we have experienced recently. I was 15, so personal transportation was my own set of legs.
Those legs would take me on a long solo walk over the frozen Kishwaukee River, and give me a lesson that day which, 50 years later, I have not forgotten.
A sudden "crack" and my right leg was knee deep in frigid water. As I quickly glanced at the surrounding ice, I chose the safest path to shore.
Having prepared for an incident like this, I began building a small fire on the shoreline from dry sticks, removed my soaking wet sock and carefully warmed my foot near the flames. From my backpack I took a pair of dry socks and made a quick change before resuming my hike.
Now the shoreline would be my route home but, as I continued the hike, the memory of the frigid water was replaced with a sense of accomplishment. I had carried the necessary gear to deal with this event, had not panicked, and -- although home was still 45 minutes away -- I found a confidence that would prepare me for outdoor adventures which were still decades in the future.
There would be 14,000-foot mountains to summit, a summer-long bicycle ride, and overnight campouts in the middle of winter. The river incident "could" have ended any interest in further outdoor activities. Thankfully, it did not.
I'm Jim Kline, and that is my perspective.
