Some say that in order for men to bond, we need to provide them with a safe, sterile classroom with a TV and VCR with a lesson that will get them to hug and cry and say sweet things to their wives.
"Not so," say I. All you need to get men to bond is to have an event with built in potential for disaster or a possible ride in an ambulance. Everything we plan for the men at our church includes, fire, a body of water, boats, a ride in a broken down bus, or following directions using a map. What better recipe for misfortune? The guys all end up buddies every time.
This weekend was just that kind of event. We took a trip to the scenic Peace River. Included was a healthy dose of potential mishaps offered with food our wives and mothers would not approve. Bar-b-que pork sandwiches, hot-dogs, kielbasa, double-stuff Oreos, and s'mores. All washed down with sodas loaded with sugar and caffeine. Perfect. That was Friday night.
Saturday we canoed ten miles. The weather was perfect. And for no good reason or prize, the guys turned a leisurely trip down the beautiful Peace River into a race where losers got wet and winners got to gloat.
Just like Jesus' disciples.
Props to Jason for the pictures. Props to Ira for the chow.