During the summers of '94 and '95, I lived in Colorado and worked as a white water canoe guide. One of the other new guides was from Iowa. His name was John Jensen.

Over the next two years, John and I became better friends. While our approach to life differed slightly, we had one basic thing in common: canoeing in the North Woods. I met up with John in Grand Marais, Minn. (my home) where he had once worked. I spent the coldest night of my life camped under tarp on a frozen Seagull Lake one New Year's eve with John. A year later, we went dog sledding for a day. After that, we lost touch.

Last year, I happened to contact Luther College in Decorah, Iowa. Serendipitously, I received a reply email from one Dr. John Jensen. The very same John Jensen of my reckless white water canoeing days. Dr. Jensen, I presumed correctly, was now professor of philosophy. What I would learn later, was that he was also a father, bicycle commuter, bio diesel producer and more. Did he still have my copy of Will Steger's Crossing Antarctica I replied back?

After a year of scheduling snafus, we finally managed arrange a lecture. It was really fun to talk with John and see his life now. I was instantly impressed with the passion and fervor in which John teaches about the environment. Equally interesting was the fact that John's vision stretches to encompass, not only Luther College and its students, but the surrounding community as well. But in reality, John is more concerned about future generations, our children's children.

My visit to Luther was filled not only with a packed evening lecture, but also several classroom visits. These are wonderful opportunities for me to discuss solutions of Global Warming at a deeper level.

On Sunday, Lonnie (my expedition partner from the One World Expedition) and I presented at Midwest Mountaineering's Winter Expo. While there I had a chance to rub elbows with Polar greats Will Steger and Rune Gjeldnes. Even though I had never met Rune before, it was like talking with an old friend.

Old friend, new friend, misplaced friend. People drift in and out of our lives time and time again. Some you can't wait until the door closes behind them and they are gone. Others will stay forever. Then, there are those brief encounters, which are so intense that their absence leaves gaping hole. Yet, you can't help but think that your life is better for the short few moments you shared.