Vertical Shepherding by John Kerr
Posted Jul 08, 2009Taken from Inner Links, May 2007
My “pat” answer when people ask why I left a career in teaching 8th graders is that “I wanted a change of scenery.” Actually, the truth is that my doctor advised me to find a less stressful environment where I would be less prone to sudden outbursts of rage, and the camping industry seemed to be a serene and tranquil environment. I am happy to report that in the last three years, my facial tick has almost subsided, and I haven’t had a single “episode” as my wife refers to them. I still try to avoid 8th graders, and William graciously handles any job-related activity that involves communicating with campers around the age 13. Yes, I have finally reached an even keel with no noticeable adverse side effects. I have finally reached an even keel with no noticeable adverse side effects. Which is why I found it odd, in my guarded state of mind, that I came to my senses and found myself dangling from a cliff 50 feet above the river!
William and I got a radio call from Alan one afternoon and were informed that some campers over at Echo Valley had spotted a lamb which was trapped on the cliffs across the river from the Ranch House. We headed over to investigate the situation and found that, sure enough, a wild mouflan lamb had become separated from its mother and had wandered into a crevice where it couldn’t climb out. We could see and hear the lamb’s mother who was bawling about a hundred feet above, and the lamb’s desperate bleating was barely more audible than a cricket. Rudy and Juan, who had heard the radio chatter and had come over to offer their help, judged the lamb to be less than 2 weeks old.
After surveying the situation, it was determined that one of us was going to have to cross the river, climb up to the lamb, catch it, and lift it up over a precipice where it could then return to its mother, and that I should be really careful when climbing over the wet slippery spots! Alan, who is always ready for adventure, volunteered for the mission, and we grabbed a canoe, paddled across the river, and began our assault on the face of the cliff.
If you have ever sat on the porch of the Echo Valley Ranch House, casually sipping a cup of “joe,” and wondered how difficult it would be to climb the bluffs across the river, you can stop wondering. I would liken the experience to negotiating the face of K2 in the Himalayas where 1 out of 3 climbers don’t return. It’s hard to ignore that statistic, especially when I could hear Rudy ask William if he had the phone number for Critical Air! An expert on falling, William reminded us that the water was only a couple of feet deep and if we lost our hold on the cliff, he advised us to land “belly buster” in the water so as not to hit the bedrock too hard. I doubted the sincerity of this wisdom, however, because the three of them were laughing so hard that Juan fell off the tailgate of his truck.
As we nudged rocks into thin air, I began to contemplate some serious questions. It’s amazing how clearly a man can think when he is clinging to a bluff in raw terror. Here is a brief summary of those thoughts:
Why am I here? Is this not the perfect example of the human race interfering with natural selection and the law of survival of the fittest? Am I about to prove the counterpart of that law? Isn’t the Mouflan sheep population too high anyway? Who hired William?
In the meantime, Alan, who apparently was raised by mountain goats, had gone ahead of me and scared the lamb back in my direction. The lamb managed to cover the area that had taken me 10 minutes to climb in about 3 seconds, and as the distance between us closed rapidly, I heard Rudy, Juan, William, and a bunch of 8th graders shouting at me to get ready! It quickly became obvious that the sure-footed little beast was unaware of my presence, but when it got close enough for me to grab it, I found that the only part of my body that wasn’t occupied in clinging to the cliff was my tongue! I could tell that the lamb was more than a little surprised to find a 225-pound man sticking his tongue out at him, and instead of turning back toward Alan, it jumped over me and took the path of least resistance down to our canoe. When Rudy asked why I didn’t grab it, I suppressed the urge to cross the river and remove his arms, and asked Alan if he had any other ideas.
As it turned out, the lamb had once again cornered itself in a bowl formed by the cliff, and short of steeling our canoe, it was once again trapped. After another unsuccessful but entertaining attempt at vertical shepherding, we finally cornered the little sucker down at the water’s edge. Alan positioned himself in the middle of the only possible escape route, and I grabbed the canoe, paddled over to the other side of the lamb, and pushed him toward our trap.
It worked! The lamb ran straight into Alan who grabbed it and tied its legs together. As we canoed triumphantly back to the safe side of the river, we were greeted by a mass of cheering 8th graders. I must admit that I was humbled by their esteem as they rushed toward us in an obvious gesture of praise as though we were heroes. It turned out, however, that they only wanted to touch the lamb.
“What’s the matter with your face?” a girl asked.
“It’s a facial tic! What does it look like?” I replied.
Eventually, we released the lamb on a higher section of the bluff behind the River House where it returned safely to its mother. As mother and child were reunited, I was reminded of a verse from the Prophet Isaiah, who wrote, “All of us like sheep have gone astray. Each of us has turned to his own way; But the Lord has caused the iniquity of us all to fall on Him” (53:6).
You think David ever tried vertical shepherding? No wonder he was so brave!
