American adventure- postscript.

So, 2500 miles driven, time spent in Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Arkansas, Kentucky and Missouri, 5 new species of fish caught, guns fired, arrows despatched, lots of American Christians met with, contact made with 10 outdoor ministries- it's been a blast.

 

I've been reminded of how great it is to be  part of the worldwide church, I've loved America but realised how much I belong at home and with my family, I've experienced kindness, learnt loads, worshipped in 3 different churches, sat at Billy Graham's desk, avoided being mauled by bears (I saw a dead black bear by the road today) or bitten by rattle snakes, copperheads or water moccasins, and have become one of the people I always admired but never thought I'd have the ability/foolhardiness to be: a long distance solo traveller.

 

Thank you to Ironman Outdoors, Mount Pleasant Presbyterian Church, 4 Outdoorsmen, Hooked for Life, Christian Outdoorsman, True North, Peterson Outdoors, Christian Trail for Christ, the Christian Waterfowlers Association and Paradise Outfitters.

 

Thanks to Susan Dalton, Brett Potter and Dave Lingner for taking me fishing, and to Shirley, Brent, Philip and Fiona and Dave and Nancy for having me stay in their homes, and to Brandon Howard for popping by to say "hello" in Tennessee.

 

Grateful thanks also to The Memorial Chapel Grant of the English Speaking Union, Ecclesiastical Insurance Group, Leicester Diocese and St Luke's Church for their financial help with the project - and so, now to meet up in Vegas with the three people I've missed the most.

Hope you've enjoyed reading about my travels, travails and triumphs in America,

God bless you all

 

 

American Adventure (13) "Fish expressions of church"

I like Oak Grove, Missouri. It's pretty much the first place in America that I've been that (a) acknowledges that humans have legs, and (b) that they might want to use them for getting about. It's a suburb with decent pavements (translation: "sidewalks") and having arrived early for my meeting, I wandered around a bit before stopping for an iced lemonade at a Sonic restaurant. Wisely, I sat in the shade in the 94 degree heat.

 

 

I was in Oak Grove to meet Brandon Smith, the energetic and visionary pastor of an unusual type of church, what we in the UK would describe as a "Fresh Expressions" church (now do you get the title?), a whole church called Paradise Outfitters based around reaching, evangelising and discipling the outdoors community. Brandon, a former youth pastor in a number of Southern Baptist churches, started the church with just a handfull of others 5 years ago, and now it has a weekly attendance of 300 and a community of about 400 who meet across three services, two on Sunday and one on a Thursday evening.

 

After a tour of the local Bass Pro shop (an angler's dream- I could walk around it all day, spend nothing and still feel I'd had a great day out .... several floors, brilliantly set out, thousands of rods, loads of terminal tackle, reels, lures etc, bass boats, guns), we settled down for a serious conversation at an ice cream parlour. (we'd eaten steak earlier in the day- it's tough work this sabbatical thing!)

 

 

I've already over-used the word "community" in this post, but advisedly so. The whole concept of "Paradise Outfitters" is based around the idea of creating community. The church building has its own archery range, which is open an hour before the meal which precedes the service. A note on the archery range: I fired three arrows, the first missed the target, the second was a bullseye, the third also hit the target, and then I "retired" from archery at the top of my game. Now for the bad news- Brandon took a photo of me posing with my bullseye shot, but when I got back to the motel to download my photo's the photo hadn't come out .... there's an art to using this camera which involves a slow and sustained finger pressure on the button - "gutted", and then some!

 

Paradise Outfitters is intentionally evangelistic, and is proving very succesfull in reaching people who more conventional American churches struggle to reach. I'm not saying that most of the congregation would think that a "split infinitive" could be fixed with duct tape, but they are, in the main, good, honest, hardworking blue collar workers, many with no church background, who dress for church like they dress for any other day of the week, in contrast to the Sunday-best, "suited and booted" Southern Baptists or Assemblies of God crowd. The church is also deliberately not over driven by its program, keeping things simple and organic, weekly services, once a month youth event, no Sunday School, a yearly kids fishing camp (under the "Hooked for Life"  banner) and occasional mission trips and other ad hoc activities. What they do have is a series of archery leagues in the week, which enable them to create a large fringe of contacts to befriend and invite to services.

 

 

This evening I attended one of their services. (the picture above is of the "Welcome Desk") The worship space has an outdoorsy "feel", lots of taxidermy on the walls, a fantastic log cabin made by a church member and a rustic looking cross, as well as fishing and archery paraphenalia on the walls.

 

 

After the archery (did I tell you earlier that I got a bullseye second shot? ...... oh, sorry, I did...), there was a meal, and then we were into the worship. I did a quick interview with Brandon, and was well received by the congregation (I hope they were laughing with me and not just at my accent!), and then we were into three worship songs that would have been recognised by English churchgoers.

 

 

 

 

After the singing, Nathan, also a former youth pastor, now an intern at the church, preached a hard-hitting, simple to understand evangelistic sermon on John 3:16, which was followed up by a response song, a closing prayer, after which the archery range opened up again, and people stayed for ages to talk and hang out together. Two little boys, both fans of "River Monsters", chatted to me because I talk like Jeremy Wade, and everyone was friendly. It was probably the first church I've ever been in where most of the congregation were more tattoo'd than me and was a fantastic snapshot of a very different expression of church, and a very encouraging and uplifting evening. I'm not sure that it's a directly replicable model of church, because we in the UK don't have the same kind of multi-disciplinary outdoorsman/outdoorsperson identity (these guys fish, hunt with guns, hunt with bows, camp, back-pack- it's a whole way of life), but there was lots to be learnt from spending time with them. They were also very supportive of the plan to create an angling ministry in the UK, and wanted to keep in touch and do anything they can, in the future, to help.

 

Original and unique, and a good place to end my American outdoors Christian adventure. A congregation dressed in camouflage, vest tops and baseball caps with dead animals on the walls may not be everyone's "cup of tea", but they certainly blessed me tonight, and I'll be praying for them as they seek to make Christ known in an exciting and different way.

 

Posing for the camera with some of the leaders of Paradise Outfitters.

American adventure (12) .... Barbeques and bluegill

Today was a relaxed day, and my last day at Dave's- tomorrow I'm off to my final "port of call" to visit Paradise Outfitters. I'll miss the great view from the deck, but most of all Dave and his family. Not only has Dave worked like a Trojan over the last few months helping me to set up the whole American adventure, but he's great company, and his family are a great credit to him and his wife.

 

 

This evening Dave, Nancy and two of their children, Andrew and Melody took me to Table Rock lake for some real "Huckleberry Finn" style fishing (worms and bobber floats) and a family barbeque. The fish, small bluegills and sunfish were very obliginging, biting with regularity and abandon, with Andrew outcatching the two old guys.

 

 

The fish although small were exquisetly coloured, and the natural beauty of the lake provided a magical backdrop in the evening sunshine.

 

 

The fish kept coming thick and fast, but catch of the day was a turtle, hooked fairly in the mouth by Andrew, who- being mad on nature and critters, took it home and is now keeping it as a pet. We kept fishing until we ran out of worms, with the fish continuing to bite until the end.

 

 

As the weather grew dusky, and once we'd exhausted the supply of worms we moved up the bank and enjoyed a barbeque while being treated to a flying display by three screech owls.

 

 

 

All in all, a great evening, and one in which the panoramic natural backdrop was its own challenge to anyone blind enough not to see the work of a purposive designer and Creator.

 

 

American adventure (11) Wounded warriors, waterfowlers and another State ....

It's not often that you shake hands with the owner of a multi-million dollar hunting resort who also holds four world record trophies from African hunts who also happens to be a Christian, and who radiates enthusiasm for Jesus; but I'm getting ahead of myself.

 

Yesterday it was back in the Bug, which was pointed in the direction of Joplin, where Tron Peterson, of Peterson Outdoor Ministries, had lined up a full day's schedule.

 

 

Tron is an avid hunter, who formerly worked for a Christian publishing company. Peterson Outdoors provide hunting opportunities and experiences for wounded ex miliatary personnel and people with disabilities. The suicide rate for ex military personnel runs alarmingly high, and along with the physical injuries that many carry there are also the plethora of mental and stress related problems that result from some of the things those who've served in places such as Iraq or Afghanastan have witnessed and experienced. Peterson Outdoors also provide hunting and outdoor experiences for Military Chaplains who minister to those on operational service.

 

Tron's passion isn't only for hunting, the ministry's focus goes beyond giving those who've had a rough deal a fun time, but the driving force is to see often very broken people come to Christ- and many do. As well as hunting, which is the main activity focus, Peterson Outdoors also provide fishing, and more "extreme" opportunities such as waterski-ing with adaptive equipment that enables even those with very severe impairments opportunities to do things they would never have dreamt of being able to do.

 

Following an excellent lunch with Tron and his wife Misty, we talked "Outdoors Ministry", saw some dvd's of testimonies and action from Peterson Outdoors events. The testimonies really brought out the lasting effects of going to war, not only in terms of physical injury but particularly the scars of losing friends and colleagues and the difference Jesus has made in the lives of some of those who've attended the camps.

 

 

We then moved on to America's largest pheasant hunting resort, "Show me birds", owned, run and created from nothing by Kim Shira. Kim, who has hunted all around the world, and holds four world records for African game he's shot, one of which is pictured below.

 

 

Kim, whose property, over the border into Kansas, is extensive has recently set up a "Christian Trail for Christ", aimed at drawing men from the fringes of church life, or non-Christian husbands of Christian wives into an environment that they're comfortable with and then presenting the gospel using activities they can relate to. Trained guides lead the men through a range of activities from chipping golf balls to skeet shooting, rifle shooting, fishing, pistol shooting, bouncing around on four wheelers and crossbow shooting. The guides then draw out and share simple, challenging, evangelistic lessons from each activity. Kim, who has a strong personal testimony of how God has worked in his life over the last few years, is an energetic, enthusiastic man who is building a whole range of facilities for church groups on his land, and offering them to churches and pastors at no cost.

 

 

The evening ended up with me attending a meeting of the Christian Waterfowlers Association, an evangelistic and fellowship based ministry working amongst duck hunters. The CWA have chapters accross the States, a website presence, and a large national get-together as well as smaller locally based events.

 

The 140 mile drive back to Dave's was "fun" in the dark" (Americans have a strange aversion to street lighting or "cats eyes"), and I was relieved when I turned into Dave's drive at midnight with myself and the car still in one piece. Another great day, Tron was a great host, very experienced in his field, and his kindness and eagerness to help were typical of what I've discovered from the Christian outdoors community of America's Southern States.
...... oh yeah, and I drove on Route 66. 

 

 

American Adventure (10) .... Bass on Bullshoals Lake

 

So, church this morning was great; sermon was about the Gate, the narrow way and the wide way, but that's not what you're wanting to hear about- today I went fishing, and here's what happened.

Bullshoals Lake is one of three big lakes in Branson, and it was here that Brett Potter, mad keen angler and one of the founders of a new Outdoorsman's "fresh expression" style church called "True North" took me and Dave for an afternoon's fishing. The lake contains largemouth, smallmouth and kentucky bass, walleye, gar, perch, trout, crappie and several "panfish" species. By British standards it's an enormous body of water (certainly compared to the average day-ticket pond or "commercial"), and Brett's Dad's shiny bass boat was going to be our ride, and the means by which we could cover a lot of water, and there is a lot of water.

As is the American style, a vast number of rods were on board, allowing various rigs to be made up, giving us an instant range of tactics and options to try. We shot off accross the lake at 58 miles per hour, leaving spray in our wake, and with faces whipped by the wind, before switching to the electric trolling motor and gently drifting in the deep water not far from the shoreline. Initially I tried a plastic worm, but on changing over to a deep diving crankbait  had a hit from a bass, which dropped off tantalisingly close to the boat. A few minutes later I atoned for the loss with my first ever bass, not a big fish, but a kentucky bass none the less. I was delighted- my ambition had been to catch a bass, the iconic fish of American angling, and now I was holding one in the boat. It even jumped for me a couple of times during the fight.

I lost another fish, before the action really hotted up. Brett hooked a gar, a strange prehistoric looking predator with a long snout full of vicious teeth. The gar leapt clear of the water a couple of times, before shedding the hook. Minutes later Dave was into a gar (pictured below while in the water), which this time did make it all the way to the boat, although for reasons of angler safety, it was unhooked with pliers while still in the water. Brett left us in no doubt that getting it into the boat and having it thrashing around and snapping its jaws wasn't a good plan. The fish must have been about three foot long- a real "clonker".

The fishing wasn't easy, and we switched between trolling (both the gar took deep diving trolled crankbaits) and casting, with Dave and I opting for crankbaits and Brett utilising a plastic worm approach. I caught a tiny, but beautiful bluegill, (pictured below) again on a deep diving plug and lost a fish which took line strongly from the clutch before coming adrift.

Brett caught a couple of nice largemouth bass on his worm rig, and I added one more kentucky bass after changing to a surface popper.

All too soon, it was time to pack up as a glorious sunset morphed into dusky gloom. It had been a a wonderful afternoon, a great learning curve and insight into American bass angling- fast boats, echo sounders and the challenge of locating fish in vast areas of water, and a session shared with two men passionate about the potential of using the outdoors and fishing as a means of sharing the Gospel with folk who otherwise might not naturally connect with Christians or church. Days like this make the memories that take root in an angler's consciousness.



American adventure (9) Bluegrass in Branson

Breathtaking. That's the only way to describe the view from Dave Lingner's veranda, with its broad sweeping vista of the Ozark Mountains. "Mountain" is a bit of a misnomer, the Ozarks are very different from the Appalachian's that I was driving through between North Carolina and through Tennessee, and are more like rolling, forested hills. Hills inhabited by "hillbillies". There are those who reckon that the area around where Dave lives is so "hillbilly" that even the Catholics take snakes to church!

 

 

Dave is where the whole Christian fishing thing started for me. One day back in 2005, when I was supposed to be sermon writing (confession is good for the soul), I popped the words "Christian" and "fishing" into Google and ended up on the "Christian Outdoorsman" website, got to know Dave and a whole load of other Christian anglers and hunters, and now, 8 years later I'm staying at his house in the hills.

 

After a 5 hour drive from Illinois to Arkansas, I arrived at Dave's, and having negotiated his three dogs (the family also have a horse), and after a chat and a coffee we went to the local tackle store to purchase a State fishing licence. Said licence purchased, and all "legal and legit", we went on to a 4th July weekend outdoor live music gig and firework display, which proved to be a big highlight. The band, the Missouri Boatmen, played two predominantly bluegrass sets, with occasional forays into their own take on folk rock. One of the band, Dean Webb (a sprightly septegenarian) is a bluegrass legend and inductee in the "Bluegrass Hall of Fame", the songs were delivered with humour, the musicianship (as if I'd know!) was first class, the crowd loved it, and in the middle of the set the band (which included at least three committed Christians) performed a lovely slow version of the hymn "There is a fountain filled with blood", before informing their hillbilly crowd that "true freedom only comes from the Lord."

A great evening, tomorrow it's lined up to be my dream day: church followed by fishing. The only thing that would make it more perfect would be the addition of my family, but less than a week and they'll be in the States too. 

American adventure (8) .... "Don't rain on my parade ..."

"Welcome to Kentucky, where it always rains" said the roadsign. Actually, it didn't but it should have done.

Another day, another State. July 3rd saw me roll into Kentucky, the horse capital of the world .... even the Queen purchases lots of her horses from Lexington, which doesn't massively encourage me to trust that my taxes are being well spent, but is something of an endorsement for Kentucky.

 

I was staying with some English friends of ours, Philip and Fiona and their daughters Jasmine and Bethany, former missionaries in Tanzania, now in the US where Philip is studying for a PHD in theology.

 

 

July 4th saw rain, not just a gentle, genteel English shower, but rain similar in its intesity to the stuff that sent Noah scuttling to the ark in the days of mankind's infancy. The small town of Wilmore has the ubiquitous parade to celebrate American Independence and British defeat, a highlight of which (I kid you not) is the synchronised lawnmower display, which follows shortly after the parade of vintage tractors, which I was very eager to see, but the rain resulted in the whole parade being cancelled. To say I was gutted would be to deal in understatement. However, all was not lost, and a small bunch of Americans, led by an indomitable Mum waving the flag, and a small gaggle of barefoot kids all bravely smiling and waving, marched by intent on not being beaten by the inclement weather.

 

 

The rain continued unrelentingly, making outdoor pursuits impossible, and so we went to the local cinema ($1.50 to see a film!), where Philip and I watched a film called "42", while Fiona and the girls watched some Pixar, animated thing. "42" turned out to be an excellent film about America's first black baseball player to play Major League, a well made and moving account of segregation, courage and the triumph of spirit over bigotry.

 

 

In the evening we popped into a 4th of July party at some friends of Philip and Fiona's, before watching a firework display from the shelter of the car.

 

On the morning of my departure we drove out to High Bridge, where we were treated to a spectacular view of two rivers meeting, one full of chocolate brown water carrying mud that had been washed in from the banks, the other clear, with a very distinct demarcation between the two, and the iron bridge which gives the area its name, which  was built in 1929 for the railway.

 

After a brief tour of Asbury Theological Seminary, where Philip is studying, and posing next to a staute of John Wesley, it was coffee, cake, goodbyes and back to the Bug and the open road. It had been lovely to stop off and renew my friendship with the Richardsons, but the Christian anglers of Missouri were calling, and so, via a stop over in Illinois, I heeded their call ....

 

American adventure (7)- Introducing the umbrella rig

Here's the thing: this blog was a fishing blog way before it became a travelogue, and so here's something for my "bread and butter" angling readers. If you're a non-angler  just following the Stateside journey then please feel free to skip this and rejoin the adventure later, but this is to introduce UK based fisherpersons to a rig I've just discovered in the US.

 

Whenever I'm abroad I like to buy a fishing magazine from the country I'm in, and so a visit to Walmart (where there are aisles of fishing tackle amid the fruit and veg and clothing, and locked cabinets from which guns can be purchased) saw me obtain a copy of a bass fishing journal which was full of the, hitherto unknown to me, "umbrella rig".

 

The most cursory of glances tells you pretty much all you need to know.. A jig head which is attached to a  soft plastic bait and has "spokes" (to pursue the umbrella metaphor) with snap-lock swivels at the end upon which can be fastened smaller soft plastic shads, worms or grubs. On casting these hang limp, but on retrieval they fan out to create the illusion of a shoal of small baitfish darting through the water. In the UK I'm assuming that such a rig would be deemed illegal in freshwater on the basis of it being a multiple hook rig, but I can imagine a version that had a single soft plastic bait in the centre on a weighted jig head that was surrounded by willow leaf or colarado leaf spoons without hooks being a devestating tool. That's the great thing about dipping your toe into someone else's fishing culture ..... it makes you think.

American Adventure (6) "24 hours of pear-shaped..."

I've read enough travel books to know the formula; sooner or later every roadtrip adventure becomes a misadventure. This account of the last 24 hours is my addition to the canon of woeful travel tales.

There's a verse in the Bible that states (and I'm paraphrasing) "If you think you stand firm beware lest you fall", or if you prefer your wisdom wrapped up in a  vernacular rather than a Biblical phrase "pride comes before a fall." I was feeling proud. Heck, no- I was feeling very proud. I'd driven almost 1000 miles over 3 different States, not got lost, always found my way to where I was supposed to be, no cell phone, just me, a satnav and the open road - I felt like a latter day Marco Polo. This solo travel thing was easy, right?

Wrong.

My first mistake, though, had nothing to do with navigation. It was much more embarrassing than that. I drove the couple of hundrd miles from North Carolina to Tennessee, driving through the beautiful Appalachian mountains, and arrived at the Macado's restaurent for my meeting. The only problem was that Trever Ruble, the guy I was due to meet wasn't there. Eventually I decided to phone him, so borrowed the restaurent's phone, and was answered by a slightly baffled sounding Trevor Ruble who said "Jon, today's Tuesday" ..... and then I remembered. It was Wednesday that I was due to meet him, Tuesday had been built into the diary as a "catch up" day, with the objective of getting to Kingsport in Tennessee, catching breath, sorting my stuff and then meeting Trevor the following day.

"Dang!" as they say round these parts if they're trying not to swear.

And so I drove to my motel, the Colonial Inn in Kingsport feeling slightly sheepish and very silly.

 

 

However, the day was redeemed when I was contacted in the evening by Brandon Howard, a long distance friend who I know from the "Christian Outdoorsman" website who, having heard I was in Tennessee, wondered if I fancied going out for the evening. He turned up at the motel, and drove me out to a nearby lake and showed me the beautiful countryside. We saw a number of deer on our drive, talked a lot about theology and church, and finally met up with his wife and their incredibly cute 5 year old daughter and had frozen yoghurt at a local place. A great evening, and a nice surprise- thanks Brandon.

 

 

 The next morning I returned to Bristol for my meeting ("take two") with Trevor. On the way I passed a pro-life protest outside a euphemistically named "Womens Centre" (abortion clinic), and decided to stop and ask the protesters if I could take a photo. The majority of the protesters were on the other side of the carriageway, and crossing it on foot would have been somewhere between foolhardy and suicidal, but there were four protesters on my side of the road. I chatted with them for a bit, and once they were assured that I was (a) a Christian, and (b) pro-life, they agreed to me taking a picture. There were two rather eccentric looking, elderly protesters and two incredibly attractive female protesters in their late teens, and, so as not to leave any impression that my motives were less than pure, I photographed the elderly ones- shame, as the other two were dead photogenic!

 

 

I left the protestors, and drove on to my lunchtime appointment. Trevor Ruble is a schoolteacher whose "Hooked for Life" program now operates in 23 States. In a nutshell it's a Gospel teaching program that uses teaching kids to fish as a means of also teaching them about Jesus and what it means to become and be a Christian. Trevor has developed a whole syllabus which integrates practical angling lessons (how to tie hooks, use weights, set up rigs, cast etc.) with fishing sessions and Christian teaching and Bible study. The course is well thought out and skilfully links the Christian themes with illustrations drawn from the world of angling and opportunities for kids to actually fish. Trevor kindly gave me a load of information and "how to" guides and added to my T-shirt and baseball cap collection. Like the Presbyterian hikers and backpackers, Patrick from "Ironman Outdoors", and Brent from "4 Outdoorsmen", Trevor was passionate about evangelism, about Jesus, and about using the outdoors and fishing for a "higher purpose."

 

 

I left Bristol, set the Satnav and headed off for Kentucky. The drive through the Appalachians was stunning, although the housing began to be dominated by small ramshackle shacks and trailer-park homes with broken down pick-ups rusting in the yard as I got deeper into the mountains, and I strained my ears for the warning sound of duelling banjo's!

The journey was uneventful until I was about 5 miles from my destination, Wilmore in Kentucky, where I was to stay with Philip and Fiona and their two daughters, friends of mine from the UK, now living in Kentucky, where Philip is completing a PHD in theology. The problem was that several new roads had been built since my satnav was manufactured, and I ended up hopelessly lost with a confused satnav driving through rural Kentucky. The few locals I spoke to were friendly, polite but also clueless as to how the local roads had changed, and after an hour's driving through tiny villages I eventually borrowed a friendly young woman's (wearing a "Jesus is Lord" T-shirt) cell phone and called Philip, who came out in his car and, humbled for the second time in two days, I followed him to their home. Tommorow in the US I'll be joining in the celebrations for the 4th of July, while back in the UK my daughter will be looking dazzling at her school prom. I'm having a great time, but I do miss my family- 9 days till I see them again, and counting .....

American Adventure (5) - "Son of a gun on Billy Graham's chair"

So, how to describe a day in which I fired a Glock 9mm, a 22 Hornet Magnum rifle and a small pistol, made a film and sat on Billy Graham's own chair in Billy Graham's personal office dressed in camouflage? Kind of surreal, huh?

For the last day and a half I've been the guest of Brent Besosa in Asheville, North Carolina. Brent is a passionate hunter, fisherman, Christian and, along with his buddy Sam Bennett heads up an outdoors ministry called 4Outdoorsmen. The organisation has been in operation since 2000 and runs large-scale evangelistic Wild Game banquets, creates tracts aimed at non-Christian hunters and anglers, produces a radio show, and makes hunting and angling DVD's. He also smokes a mean pork tenderloin.

 

Sunday night saw me roll in from Charleston and enjoy a meal with Brent, his wife Kathy and a retired pastor (also an outdoorsman) and his wife. Brent and I then stayed up till "silly o'clock" as he recounted his exploits and experiences of men's outdoor ministry. This morning saw more conversation, and lots of genorosity as Brent gave not only advice but DVD's, tracts, a booklet on how to put on evangelistic outdoor events and a gift of an inscribed Bible with a Realtree cover.

We then went into town and met Sam, his partner in 4 Outdoorsmen and one of the full time pastors at Bent Creek Baptist Church. After prayers with Brent, Sam and Brian (the church's youth pastor) we filmed a short video, which - once edited- will be put up on Facebook, where 4 Outdoorsmen have a wide American following. However, here's a sneak preview of the unedited version:

 

Then came a big surprise: Brent and Sam are good pals with Will Graham (Billy Graham's grandson), and Sam texted Will and asked if we could pop over to "The Cove", the Training Centre of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, which sits in the middle of 1200 acres of beautiful forest and mountain countryside. We looked over the whole centre, and then- as a result of Sam and Brent's friendship with Will- were afforded the rare privelege of being able to go into Billy Graham's personal, private office where framed pictures of his meetings with presidents, celebrities and British royalty line the walls. I posed sitting at his desk in his leather seat, behind the nameplate bearing the legend "Rev Billy Graham", before stepping out onto his balcony and enjoying the wonderful view.

Following our trip around "The Cove" we returned to the church, grabbed some guns (yes, the Pastor has a load of his guns in his office along with the Bibles and Commentaries!), and walked down to the woods by the river to do a bit of shooting. It felt strange, as an Englishman, to be walking in broad daylight with a rifle slung over my shoulder in a public place, but there's a kind of boyish pleasure that comes from casually strolling along with a loaded gun when you're not used to it.

I started off firing the rifle at a tree branch that was trailing into the water about 200 yards away on the far bank, and- due to the quality not of my shooting, but of the advanced telescopic sight- came unexpectedly close to hitting it.

Then we moved back up the hill towards the church where I fired a Glock which had a kick-back far more savage than the rifle, and then a small pistol, firing at a mark on a tree.

The day concluded with an "all you can eat" Chinese buffet along with Brent and Sam's wives, and one of Brent's boys.
It will take a while to process all the information that Brent shared, but his help and generosity and enthusiasm for the inauguration of a Christian fishing ministry in the UK have been a great help, and his company and support a real pleasure.

And so to repack my suitcase to "hit the road" again in the morning for the drive to Tennessee to talk fishing with an experienced fishing ministry practitioner. It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it!