Salt of the Earth.

 The kid is a Stud. He’s All-Conference all day. He’s a Hammer…a twice over All-Section Hammer. He’s the Captain that leads by example in class, at practice, from whistle to whistle and in the locker room. Logan’s not just a 3-sport athlete. He’s been a 3-sport athlete for 4 straight seasons. He’s played through allergies and illness and even competed most of his freshman season of football with a bum arm that we just taped up and gritted through for two weeks before x-rays confirmed a break. He’s tough. All those seasons and he only missed ONE game. He played 4 years of football and never missed a competition. He played 4 years of baseball and never missed an inning. And that ONE hockey game he did miss during the Thanksgiving Holiday tourney this year; Coach had to pull him out because everyone knew, he would have played. The nagging ankle injury he got in his last career football game needed a little more time to heal. If it were up to Logan, he would have cut it off to play.

On the hardwoods, his Big Brother could rebound and bang around in the paint with the best of them. His Big Sister was a beast on the volleyball court and even tougher on the ice on defense. But Logan, he played the game, every game, with a big heart and a big bag of knuckles. He was unselfish and a true team player. He loved blocking for his backfield partner maybe even more than scoring on his own. From the blueline he was always looking to set up a teammate first and looking to shoot second. His pass first mentality came from his desire to see his teammates excel. On the diamond, Logan was such a utility player that over the course of his career he played eight of the nine positions and would have gladly played first base if Coach asked him to.

Logan worked at his craft. He was mentored by good upperclassmen and privileged to be coached by some great guys. Ever since he was young, I’d always tell him – “Look at your Coach when they’re speaking.” And he did. Logan hit the weightroom and put on some solid muscle. He shot pucks in the off season and hit baseballs off the tee to pass the time. It all paid off. His Senior year was one for the ages.

He started his final season of football on the field of our rivals, the Braham Bombers. Logan and Jamison each ran for 200 yards, and both scored 3 touchdowns that night. At Crosby-Ironton he intercepted a pass as the Rangers threatened to score. On the next play he took a short pass from Kempf and ran it 82 yards past everyone for the score - one of three that night. The storybook season was just getting underway. A few weeks later, the Bear was voted Homecoming King. No small coincidence, his girlfriend was crowned the Queen. 4 days later he turned 18 and the next day, under the Friday night lights, the Homecoming King dismantled the Mesabi East Giants by running into the endzone 3 more times. The following game was against the perennial bad guys, the Moose Lake Rebels. When Tight End, Will Volk caught an unlikely touchdown to tie the game with one second left on the clock, the good guys went for the two-point conversion and the win. Coach called Logan’s number and he delivered. It was only the second time that the Tigers had beat the Rebels in 20 years!

A friend of mine swears that a Hallmark movie should be made. If television crews had followed him and screenwriters had paid attention, no one would find the storyline believable. It was all almost too good to be true.

Logan and his teammates finished the 2025 regular season with a perfect 8 -0 record. He was voted the team’s offensive MVP and although I’m a bit biased, he truthfully could have earned the defensive MVP award too. The Hammer likes to hit.

Hockey season started with an unfamiliar and somewhat reduced role for the two-time Captain. Coach limited his playing time and kept him out of some special teams situations that would have been taxing on his injured ankle. It wound up being a great call. It was only a matter of time and Logan was back leading the team in Time-On-Ice. His plus/minus proved why. He was running the Power Play and a steadfast component of the Penalty Kill. With a great group of seniors around him, the Pine City Dragons started turning heads and played a fun style of hockey. Logan was the linchpin. Ranked higher in the Section than they had recently been, the team earned a 1^st round Playoff HOME game and one more chance to play at the Civic Center in Korbel Arena.

Cue the Hallmark writers.

As a 4/5 matchup, Pine City wasn’t necessarily favored to win the game. Some folks figured their opponent, Sauk Rapids-Rice, had played a tougher schedule and fared well. Those folks forgot to tell Logan and his teammates. The barn was electric. The music was loud. The fans were rabid. The final score reflected an 8-3 Dragon victory. It wasn’t even close. And there he was, #10 – Senior Captain - playing in his last home game… did the writers predict a hat trick? Logan was all over the stat sheet. He had a Roughing Minor in the 3^rd period, an assist and potted 3 beautiful goals for his first career hat trick – at home – in the playoffs. You can’t make it up.

Like the football season, the hockey season came to an unfortunate end at the hands of someone just a little bit bigger and a little bit better. The Dragons fought to the bitter end and forced the Monticello Moose to beat them in Double Overtime. The game was well worth the price of admission.

The ice melted and gave way to another trip around the bases. Hope springs eternal. Logan and his baseball teammates looked to repeat and build on their 13 win season from the year before. 4 seniors lead the way. The Pace Bros. and their muscles intimidated opponents. Their pitching and hitting proved why. Matt Kempf used his golden arm and high end speed to lockdown centerfield. And then there was the Bear – throwing guys out from behind the plate; taking his turn on the mound and commanding the corners for big wins against Hinckley and Braham; and leading from the front again. He batted Lead Off from the first inning of the first game until the last. His batting average was close to .450. He stole bases and played great defense wherever he was called. 3^rd base – like he was born to do it. Middle Infield? Let’s turn two. Can Logan play the outfield? We need a guy. Yep – just let him borrow Dad’s sunglasses.

Spring sports in Minnesota fly by. April showers pack double headers into pieced together schedules like Dolly Parton’s Coat of Many Colors. Before we could even catch our breath, we found ourselves in Aitkin for the second time in two weeks in the first round of playoffs. The team in the other dugout had nothing to lose and put their #1 hurler on the mound. It was a well-played game by both squads in a defensive battle that ended in a 2-0 triumph for our beloved boys in blue and gold. Each run was scored with a Solo Homerun from a Senior. Nathan Pace crushed the first one and dented the elementary school across the lot. And like the Hallmark writers predicted, Logan Kirby hammered the second one just over the fence in deep left-center field. His first home – his Senior season – in the playoffs. You can’t make it up. I wonder if Mesabi East remembered him from the Fall.

He might be upset that I wrote this. He doesn’t do any of it for attention. When he tumbles into the endzone, he’s been known to point to a sibling or a favorite photographer. He typically thanks his blockers and then hands the ball directly to the official with little to no fanfare– as if he’s done it before and intends to do it again. He might be a little more dramatic when he scores in hockey but truthfully, hockey is a little more intense and scores are harder to come by. But listen to him in the post-game interviews and he’s quick to deflect and eager to heap praise on his teammates. He is humble. Almost unbelievably so. He’s just so happy to be on the team and playing games with his friends. And you know what…. It’s not the touchdowns nor the tackles that I’m most proud of. It’s not the hat trick or the homer that I want to remember. My favorite memory came on Senior Scholarship Award night.

To the graduating seniors that plan to continue learning once their high school diploma is signed, the cost and logistics of post-secondary education can be overwhelming. Although Logan is proudly a member of the Minnesota Honor Society and was repeatedly on the A honor roll, he admittedly took it easy in 12^th grade and reaped the benefits of his earlier hard work. Shop classes and work study softened his schedule that may have had an English class and a Math class in there somewhere. With the college application process underway, scholarship applications came due, and Logan towed the company line. That night a collection of seniors sat on stage as community stakeholders doled out awards. It was a pleasant surprise to hear Logan’s name called as the first recipient. Dale’s Heating and Appliance awarded him a nice scholarship intended for a student headed not to a traditional college but a career in the trades. The American Legion and the VFW both handed him scholarships that night too. Many of his classmates raked in the awards and honors as well.

And then the night culminated in a major award. Mr. Dennis Frandsen is a local entrepreneur and banker that has done well for himself in life. He has created an endowment to extend his legacy for generations to come. He doesn’t just offer a low-grade scholarship. Mr. Frandsen has offered a complete tuition grant to graduating students from a few surrounding schools. The award is for those that are attending 2-year colleges and pursuing a career in the technical trades. Select colleges have partnered with the Frandsen Foundation to encourage kids that might not have otherwise considered the technical fields to further their education without any financial burden. Yes, you heard that right. Dennis Frandsen’s philanthropic ways have called him to write a check covering books, tuition, supplies, and tools for two years for those qualifying students. This year 197 students from 8 different schools took him up on his offer. Logan was one of them.

When 20 or so Rush City students’ names were called to come forward that night to accept their certificate and be recognized, Logan was in the middle of the pack. I assume because his last name starts with a “K”. Those before him shuffled from the chairs and quietly accepted their slip of paper and hung around for a group picture. Not Logan.

He is the Salt of the Earth.

Logan thanked the presenters and then promptly walked off the stage.

The captain of the football team slowly walked down the steps and into the audience. The captain of the hockey team sought out the elderly Mr. Frandsen and knelt in front of him and extended his hand for a handshake. In the background, the presenters continued down their alphabetical list. Logan quietly visited with Mr. Frandsen and thanked him for his generosity. He shook Mrs. Frandsen’s hand as well. I wished that I could have heard their conversation. I could barely see the interaction. Tears of pride welled in my eyes.

Teachers and Coaches in attendance took notice and knew Logan did not do this for attention but because it was the right thing to do. Some of his peers noticed too and followed suit. Logan doesn’t act as if he is special in any way. He is straightforward and honest, humble and thoughtful. That handshake proved to his mother and me what we already knew. It proved that the touchdowns and tackles, hat tricks and homers matter but they don’t matter half as much as being kind.

Great Job, Bear.

We are so proud of you.

Cue the Hallmark Credits........

49 and a Half.

 The thing is – I don’t feel “old”.

I feel like I could still do a pretty decent cartwheel. Like I could knock out a 5K tomorrow if I had to. I feel like my taste in music is broad enough to still be one of the cool kids. I feel like my closet is hip enough to pass as “chill” and not as someone that is trying too hard.

I don’t even really feel like I’m from here – although I’ve lived here for half of my life. Sometimes I still feel like the new guy, even though I’m not. Half my life? Wow – I must be getting Old.

I can hang. I can still party – if I had to. I feel like I can still play the game…whatever game – baseball, hockey, whatever. I can still chuck the old pigskin around. I think.

I’m not set in my ways – the old-fashioned ways…. the way we have always done things. I can adapt and change with the new-fangled things in life – modern technology – new methods – new philosophies.

I think.

Except – I don’t do spreadsheets. Excel or Google Docs. I haven’t figured out how to set up a Group Chat or even talk to Siri. I’d still print out driving directions if Michele would let me. The only Bluetooth ear buds I own are my new hearing aids. Yeah, I said it. Hearing Aids. Like Old People have… and my taste in music? There are two cases of cassette tapes in the basement that I refuse to get rid of because I think it’ll make a cool Arts & Crafts activity sometime. – even though most of those artists are played on the Classic radio stations anymore. And that cartwheel? Don’t bet on it. My shoulder hurts. I may have torn my rotator cuff. So, I probably can’t throw a football or chuck a baseball very far…not without pain anyway. I could maybe play “the game” but I’d be sore as Hell afterwards. I eat Aleve like M&M’s.

I’m 49 and a Half.

My back hurts. My kids make fun of the way I dance. When those Progressive commercials come on about You-Turning Into Your Parents, Michele and the kids point at me and laugh. At work I talk in terms of 5–10-year spans or more. On the depth chart, not only am I on the front page, but I’m an elder. #8 on the seniority list or some shit like that. I remember what it was like here way back when.

And those hearing aids… yeah, that was a shot to the ego. But a move that I think my wife appreciates.

You know – I go back and forth – sometimes I feel like a Spring chicken…. spry and full of piss and vinegar and then other times I feel the steady geriatric decline of gravity pulling at my everything.

Hell….at least I aint 50 yet.

That’s in 3 days.

The Prettiest girl in the Holler’... another love note.

22 years later I still struggle to keep up with her pace when those lovely long legs step it out for an afternoon walk. She recognizes this and offers an evening stroll in flipflops. Gladly I accept because it means another opportunity to walk hand in hand – sometimes in silence – other times with a conversation starter that she pours out and I take over. With or without the playful, energetic, 9-month-old puppy in tow, a walk with my beautiful wife is one of my favorite ways to pass the time.

She’s the prettiest girl in the Holler’… my Michele.

She’s given me 3 wonderful children and let me interject my fatherly ways from time to time. But the truth is, she’s the Captain of this ship. Mom’s always been the one they run to for money, for permission and for help filling out a FAFSA. Her tech-savvy, organizational skills make her the obvious choice over me with anything electronic. But it’s her patience, open mind and her giving heart that make Mom the go-too for most everything else. Like a good mother, she always puts them first – like a great mother.

She’s the prettiest girl in the Holler’… the mother of my children.

Michele’s willingness and uncanny ability to tackle day to day challenges comes from her fierce independence and a time in her life when she couldn’t rely on anyone but herself. Somewhere that 20-year old, single mother, balancing college courses, a volleyball team and the uncertainty of her future is still fighting to prove to herself that she can do it. She has done it. She’s persevered. She won the race. She got the guy. She got the white picket fence in the suburbs with 2.5 kids and a dog….if Pine City is the suburbs and if I am “the guy”. I am the guy – the guy that needs to realize that she’s not stubborn. She’s independent. That she doesn’t need a man – she chooses a man. I’m the lucky one.

She’s the prettiest girl in the Holler’….

And now 22 years later, it’s just me and my pretty girl. The oldest son has a pretty girl and home of his own in the actual suburbs. Our only daughter is the prettiest girl in the North Country and winning her way through life and college. And now the youngest son has started his journey into early adulthood with vocational training that began in July, a lease on his own apartment and a pretty girl that will keep him checking in back home regularly. But here at home, for now, it’ll just be me and my beautiful wife. Empty nesters they call it. How lucky am I to be the guy to hold the hand of the blonde in the sundress with those lovely, long legs? Just me and Michele…

The Prettiest Girl in the Holler’.

Shake the Frost off of my Bones

Tyler Childers has done it. 

Lynyrd Skynyrd did it. 

Every poet, songwriter, author and musician since the beginning of time has done it.

....done what?

Written love notes to share with the world about the women in their lives....

But don't let Michele come on here and threaten to write a BLOG about our ever changing life together. Don't let her try to convince you that I love her any less or that I care about her safety and well being any differently now than I did in 2001. She is the Love of my Life. 

And now you know that....

So if this Hall of Famer decides to write some silly story about me taking an afternoon nap on our new-to-us, college level, sectional couch....and go on about that nap being interrupted by the unfortunate circumstances of my dear wife mis-stepping and losing her balance but gracefully falling to the living room floor in front of me... don't believe a word she says. (Because later in the day while on our way to an afternoon movie date, she started laughing and threatened to "Write a Blog" about me not loving her like I used to!)

I watched the whole thing. She kicked the footrest and fell forward in an dignified tuck and roll. Lewie was there to assist her and truthfully, she may have begun laughing before she actually even hit the floor. Yes - I was concerned. Yes - I resisted the urge to point and laugh as she would have no doubt done to me. Without any sudden movement, I tipped my hat back and asked if she was alright.

What my bride will try to convince everyone is that the Kirby of Old would have somehow sprung into immediate action and rescued his damsel in distress. The Old Kirby would have sympathetically rushed to her side to offer emotional support and administer any necessary topical first aid. She professes that my love for her has changed and that I am somehow less caring about her safety and well being because I didn't sound the alarm and rally the troops when my wife lay sprawled across the living room floor.

I contest that I love her more this day than the last...and that I love her more and more each and every day. Although I bear the brunt of most familial jeering and laughing, in this instance I chose not to lash out in laughter but to calmly assess the situation and tried to get back to my nap.

It's just that it caught me by such surprise that she lost her balance and didn't elegantly glide across the living room like the high caliber athlete that she is.

I love you, #5. Way to stick the landing!

I guess we're both getting a little older. 

"I wouldn't keep it all inside

And I'd let you know how much I loved you every day

So darlin', will you stay right here and shake this frost off of my bones?"

"A little taste of the Glory."

The following was in the December issue of the County News Review - Senior Spotlight. 

Tuesday, December 3, 2024

 

 

Logan Kirby

Rush City High School

Please tell us a little something about yourself: “I am an 18-year-old high school student. I have a 3.5 GPA. I play football, hockey, and baseball. I enjoy being outside and helping out friends and family. In my down time, I enjoy hunting and fishing. I love sports, family, friends, and my community.”

What are your plans after graduation? ”After high school I plan to attend a trade school, and start working in the trades. I am looking towards being a lineman.”

What is your favorite class/subject, and why? “My favorite classes that I have had are the shop classes. I feel I have learned the most valuable skills that I will need down the road.”

What is your favorite school memory? ”My favorite school memory is having an 8-0 regular season this year for football. That is a memory that I will never forget because the year before we were 1-7. Over the last year we put in a lot of work and it paid off.”

If you were asked to provide a Ted Talk, what would you talk about? ”If I had a chance to do a Ted Talk, I would talk about not wasting any opportunity given. I believe there are no reasons to make excuses. You only get one life to live so you should live it to the best ability and at your fullest potential.”

When (or if!) you have free time, what do you like to do to relax? ”What I like to do in my free time is hang out with my girlfriend, family, and friends. I love to hunt and fish and to be outdoors.”

If you were made principal for a day, what change would you make? ”If I were principal for a day I would change the school schedule to get the whole first week of deer season off.”

What is the strangest food combination you enjoy? ”The strangest food combination that I like is Doritos with green grapes on the chip. It is weird but just try it. It is good.”

If you could share one movie, song or book with others, what would it be? “One movie I would like to share is Nacho Libre. Why? Because everyone needs a little taste of the glory.”

What celebrity would you like to meet, and why? ”I would like to meet TJ Oshie. He is a hockey player who grew up in my dad’s hometown and he is a very successful guy who always gives back to his community. He is also a very good hockey player.”

What piece of advice would you share with your classmates? ”A piece of advice I would like to share with everyone else is to live in the moment and don’t worry about the past.”

What is the best advice you’ve ever received? “To just live in the moment.”

Please share something people might find interesting about your school. “Something I feel is really cool and special about our school is that my graduating class this year has 65 kids in it. We have a small, family-like school where we know everyone. Another special thing about this school is we have family members who work here. We have siblings who are alumni of the school, so most people grow up with these teachers and are close to them in and out of school.”

“Senior Spotlight” is a weekly feature of the County News Review. Each week an outstanding senior from one of our local schools will share their thoughts and opinions with readers. Enjoy!

Really?

 

From 15 feet up a tree on an otherwise quiet Sunday evening late in October, I fired off a series of text messages to family. First one went to Logan at 6:17 p.m.

“Smoked one,” I said.

“Actually?” my youngest responded.

A couple of minutes later at 6:19, still shaking with adrenaline, I let Michele know I might be late this night.

“I just shot one,” I said.

“Really?”  my wife replied.

Within the next 10 minutes I sent a flurry of text messages to Tyler, my Dadd, Brent and the landowners. All of them responded respectfully but all replied with a hint of disbelief. It seems my biggest supporters each harbored some underlying doubt about my abilities as a Bow Hunter.

*************************************************************************************

Unceremoniously, the Rush City football team had fallen out of the playoffs the day before. Logan woke, nursing a sprained ankle and aside from a trip to “just look” at puppies, Sunday started like any other nondescript fall day. The sun was shining. Logan’s ankle was swollen, and the puppies were puppies. When we returned home early that afternoon, Logan and Cady went their merry way; Michele made her Cambridge rounds, and I went to the woods. I was eager to have some alone time in the autumn sun to soak in the idea of adding a dog to our family again. I knew just the place. Fancy camouflage and archery equipment paired nicely with the solitude of the Crandall Ranch.

On my way in through the cut bean field I noticed that there had been significantly more activity since my last hunt. Fresh tracks of the cloven-footed were scattered much more prominently than they had been previously. I stumbled on two fresh scrapes right underneath licking branches that looked like they were straight from the manual. The sign was all there. Deer were on the move.

As I reached my stand, I hoped that my trail camera would confirm what I learned in the field above. Unfortunately, the SD card only captured a few pictures of one buck. At 4:25 that afternoon I sent Logan the picture of the small deer and together we wondered where they all had gone. I settled in for a peaceful evening hunt and let my mind wander as I fought the urge to play on my phone. Truthfully, I didn’t expect much.

A couple of hours passed in the stand without interruption. As most hunters will attest, a day can go from nondescript to awfully exciting in a few quick seconds. With fading light, I sensed movement on my left. I shifted my eyes just in time to spot a deer walking in from the east. He was right on the main trail and would pass directly in front of our ladder stand. I had yet to really get a solid look but without hesitation, I reached over my left shoulder to grab my bow. The deer steadily walked towards me. It was at that point I recognized it as a much bigger buck than the one I had seen on the card reader a few hours earlier. I didn’t have time to stand because this dude was going about his business purposefully. I shifted my legs to the right and tucked them under me while I hooked up my wrist release and readied my bow. When the deer momentarily paused behind the last remaining tree that separated us, I lifted my bow and pulled back on the string. There was a moment of trepidation when I hit an unrehearsed pause while drawing the much heavier bow than I had remembered practicing with for so long. I doubled down with concentration and finished the draw cycle into the back wall. At that moment, the deer lifted its head to look my way. The tree perfectly covered my movement. I saw an antler sticking out from each side behind the tree. As the buck took a few more steps, I acknowledged that he was closer than anticipated and repeated in my head to “Stay Down” – “Aim Low” - “Stay Down”. At full draw, I mounted the string. The peep sight was filled with fur and vitals. I tried to stop the deer with a challenging password, but he paid no heed. Instinctively, I fired.

I was rewarded with the sound of impact. In an instant the buck bolted up the hillside; mule kicked once at the crest and spun a 180 and headed back down the hill in my direction. Still feeling the effects of a complete pass-through shot, the buck took a hard left, spun out into a downed tree from the 2019 storm, and that is where he took his last Earthly breath. He expired not more than 50 yards to the west.

Looking back to where he stood when I released, I spotted the flashing blue Lumenok of my blood covered arrow stuck in the ground. The pulse of the signaling light matched the beat of my heart. Confident in my shot, I took out my phone to tell the world.

Logan and his sprained ankle left Pine City to muster up the four-wheeler at Morris’ house. He picked up Max on the way. By the time those two met me in the woods, the night had fallen, and the deer had been gutted. Michele asked me to take it easy on Logan, so he was relegated to the flashlights and backpacks while Max and I took care of the heavy lifting. Although we didn’t have far to drag the big, bodied trophy, the climb up the hill proved to be a big enough challenge to leave us both gasping for air. Before long, pictures hit the text message strings of those that momentarily doubted me, and congratulations soon followed.

The rest of the evening slowed down as we shared the excitement of the hunt with Bev and Coach Mollberg, along with Cady and the rest of her family and eventually we wound back up out at Cort’s Big Game Processing for another nighttime drop off in the freezer.

We went into Rifle Season with a ¼ beef, a big Bear and a big Buck in the freezer. The score was heavily in favor or our Krew. Having the freezer full allowed us to be more discriminant from the stands in Bemidji. We each saw some deer and let them all walk. A fork and a 6 pointer gave Tim and Logan plenty of time to evaluate and eventually pass up the shots. Aaron and Logan both had a look at a trophy 10 pointer on Saturday evening, but he offered no clean shot and therefor they both held back. We feasted on steaks and chops and sausages that left some in a meat coma but still somehow wanting more. It was another great hunt with Tom, Tim, Aaron, Tyler, Logan and me spending quality time in a tree but even better time sitting in a circle in the garage telling each other how much we know about life. For the first time since our hunt reconvened at Aaron’s, no more deer fell on Opening Weekend.

It's been a wonderful Fall hunting season.

Really.  

Luck favors the Prepared.

 He did things the right way.

The kid shot his bow every day.

He studied and asked questions of successful bear hunters in his circle.

He bought bait and attractants and elicited the help of his dad and his girlfriend’s brother, Max, to dig holes, cut logs and hang the stand.

When the cell cameras proved that he had visitors, he studied their patterns and continued to feed them molasses and trail mix.

And practiced with his bow even more.

A $5 dollar youth license was helpful because the bill to feed the bears was heavier.

The landowners grew used to him regularly running pails of bait into the station with dad’s trusty, old red Honda.

Clear weather and good bait brought in more than one bear and when the competition heated up, he still fed them regularly but fed them less each time.

September 1^st, opening day, came and unfortunately, the landowners decided to fire up their mowers and do the yardwork they neglected for weeks and months prior.

The bears took the day off.

On the first day of school, he did not go to the home volleyball game but headed to the woods after football practice ended.

When the cell camera sent me pictures of two bears on station at 7:58 pm – like the RING doorbell at home, I knew he had company.

Life360 confirmed that he was in the stand and would be deciding the fate of the bears soon. I knew the answer.

At 8:09 he text me, “I did it.”

Shortly, I was on my way to meet him. The rest of the cavalry was not far behind. We convened at the truck and redyed our headlamps, knives and sidearms.

The blood trail was immediate. The tracking was a formality. The bear laid dead less than 50 yards into the darkened night.

Hugs and handshakes ensued. The recovery team sat in awe. The story of the hunt being retold already.

Luck favors the prepared.

Logan was prepared.