It was about 1987 when Caffy and I spent a summer's week in a borrowed cabin near Traverse City, Michigan. One afternoon we browsed through a used bookstore. While perusing the "Regional" section of the shop, my attention was arrested by an interesting title, Listening Point. I had no idea at the moment, of course, how the book would change my life.

The author was Sigurd F. Olson. His works were in the "Regional" section because he was from another Great Lakes state, Minnesota. Sig died in the early 1980s while in his own early 80s. Listening Point is one of his best-loved volumes, telling of his decades-long enjoyment of a beautifully rugged, lakeside piece of land near his home at the top of the U.S. map. Olson wrote about remote north country travels and adventures, not Christian books. But Listening Point (and his other works) were so well-written that they kindled within me a desire to visit a place I'd never heard of previously, an area on either side of the Canadian border he called the Quetico-Superior country, better known today as the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. The primary entry point into this North American geographical jewel is Ely, Minnesota. Ely is where Sigurd Olson lived, and today is a town of about five thousand full-time residents (with another five thousand or so filling waterfront cabins in the summers) in the Arrowhead of the northeastern part of the state. You can't drive north from Ely—just east or west. The only way north is through the greatest canoe country in the world.

While reading Olson's books, I made countless imaginary trips to the Boundary Waters, but never in person. Then about ten years after reading Listening Point I was preaching in Canada when a young minister introduced himself to me as a Baptist pastor from Ely. His name was Bob Dalberg. He was familiar with my books, we had several mutual friends in the ministry, and he asked if I would be willing to come to his church in Ely. At that point I had never preached anywhere in Minnesota before, and so I could hardly believe it when he asked if I would be willing to preach in—of all places—Ely.

I've written most of these lines sitting next to a natural stone fireplace in a log cabin half an hour from Ely. The girls are with me on now my fourth—and our third together as a family—trip to the area for the dual purposes of ministering to the church and enjoying some vacation time. Fifty yards from the clear waters of Burntside Lake, our cabin is full of windows, and bright with hardwood floors, walls, and ceiling. We've almost completed ten days here (our longest visit in Ely so far), and some of my experiences in this exquisite part of God's creation have been so impressive that I wanted to record them before leaving.

Memorable sights
In ten days we've seen more than sixty deer, a fox, grouse, a just-killed 900 pound moose with a sixty-one inch antler spread, the Northern Lights (finally!), and glittering stars viewed miles from any light pollution. Juncos in flocks of twenty seem to fly up from the roadside at every turn in the highway.

The boldest colors have been the shades of yellow and green. Yellows, golds, and oranges blaze everywhere. Clouds of luminous leaves hover atop the aspens. Battalions of birches, their white bark gleaming in the light, rise like leafy golden curtains behind rich green walls of conifers. Mixed in are gray boulders and bluffs, blue in the sky and water, and occasional bushes burning like red torches beside the highway.

Memorable sounds
We can hear only two radio stations at our cabin—an NPR station and Ely's own WELY. While I can't say that "Polka Pal Don" (Lifetime Achievement Award in Polka Music winner and host of a five-hour polka program on Saturdays) is a favorite, WELY is what small town radio is supposed to sound like. Forget satellite feeds, sophisticated announcers, and national advertising, this is hometown radio. Need to communicate with a family member on a hunting or fishing trip, or get a message to a friend without a telephone? Just give it to WELY for their "emergency and personal messages" segment aired three times a day. Their most popular show is the daily "End-of-the-Road Trading Post." How can you not like a program whose motto is: "If you got it, we'll sell it"? Nearly every morning I've commented how much WELY reminds me of KOSE, the station my dad managed in Osceola, Arkansas when I was growing up.

But the most impressive sound during these days has been a recreating silence. I've enjoyed stretches of serenity unbroken by a single bird or a zephyr of wind. No motors disturbed the stillness-no cars, no trucks, no motorcycles, no boat motors, no plane engines, no lawnmowers, no leafblowers, no weed trimmers, no chainsaws—not one spark moving one piston anywhere within earshot. When Burntside fell under this placid spell, she wouldn't whisper even the softest lap of water against rock.

Other memorable experiences
The fresh roasted memories of good coffee from the Northern Grounds linger with me, as does sipping it next door in the bookstore all one rainy afternoon.

The manly feel of an axe splitting an armload of wood, and the echoed "chock" after each satisfying blow. The warmth of a birchwood fire, the comfort of a hearthside chair, and the heft of a good book in the hand. Reading silently or to each other without the distraction of TV, telephone, email, or newspapers. Concluding our family reading of Prince Caspian in the "Chronicles of Narnia" series by C.S. Lewis. Caffy sewing and seven-year-old Laurelen absorbed in a "Boxcar Children" mystery. Finishing most of J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit by reading deep into the night as the fire crackled down.

Ely isn't paradise. In a fallen world even the most desirable places have their drawbacks. While there were none this week, the mosquitoes and flies in a state that boasts more than ten thousand lakes can sometimes be maddening. The snow that welcomed us on our arrival also drove the field mice out of the fields and into warmer places, like our cabin. And while many residents claim to like six months of snow and revel in temperatures of 30 below, the winters here can be brutal and depressing.

But the best thing about Ely isn't the Boundary Waters, the beauty, or the small town charm. The best thing about Ely, Minnesota is the thirty to forty loving, unpretentious, and devoted people who gather on the Lord's Day as Berean Baptist Church. Each time I return to them I know something of the joy the Apostle Paul surely felt whenever he revisited one of the churches from his previous journeys. Very few towns of five thousand people have a church this solid. In fact, not many towns of fifty-thousand have a church with the grace and convictions found in Berean Baptist. If your church is thinking of a mission trip—for construction work, evangelism, or another ministries—consider coming to Ely and helping Berean Baptist. Contact Pastor Bob Dalberg about it at bdalberg@2z.net .