Thirteen Thousand Steps

One day this week I took a longer than usual walk, for training purposes. Since the first day walking at the Grand Canyon will be at least four hours of descent, I’ve been trying to think of places that would be interesting for the longer training walks. The trails around Hospital Lake fit the description.  Hospital Lake, named for the Hayward Area Memorial Hospital which can be seen from nearly every vantage point around the lake, not only has ski and hiking trails but actually has a very cool bike trail designed and maintained by the Chequamagon Area Mountain Bike Association (CAMBA).

ATV trail on old railroad bed

From home, I took the railroad bed ATV trail. Right away I had to take pictures of the fungi and moss. There aren’t a lot of green things growing yet so these plants get top billing. And they are so interesting they deserve it.

Love these colors and textures!
Different!
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And a bit of color.

A short distance on Hospital Road, and then I ducked into the pine woods where I knew I would intersect with a trail. It’s a small enough area that is fairly familiar to me so I wasn’t concerned about getting lost. My motto is “I’m never lost if I don’t care where I’m going.” So true. And if the goal is to get in as many steps as possible…

All the trails aren’t this wide and smooth. This is one of the ski trails.

In opting for whichever trail looked most interesting, I ended up on some I had not seen before. I discovered that some new trails were being made in the woods by workers with heavy equipment – they weren’t there at the time but there was lots of evidence. Part of this forest is old growth pine – trees which always have me in awe of their size and bearing. Guardians of the forest, who have seen a lot of action.

The guardian and his weapons.
Swans on Hospital Lake

Reaching the lake, I got a glimpse of swans on the far edge, too far for a good picture. I counted five and watched them for a while.  On the way out I did try a couple trails that took me in circles, and again I ended up in places I hadn’t seen before. The area is bigger than I thought. Thirteen thousand steps, for me, is 5.84 miles and I was beginning to feel the strain so I headed home. My sis-in-law met me on the way back and we walked home together.

Hospital Lake – beautiful area for walking, biking or in winter, skiing. Try it if you are ever in Hayward.

Hiking Boots

A number of years ago I trained for and participated in a 60 mile walk over three days.  From the first days of training there was emphasis on what we were to wear on our feet. Your shoes will make or break your walk, they told us.

One of our training meetings was held at a retail outlet for a major athletic shoe company. I won my first pair of expensive, properly fitted hiking shoes. To be honest, I didn’t understand what people were talking about when they said their perfectly good appearing shoes had worn out. I wore all my shoes until the soles came off or holes appeared.

That hike taught me how important foot protection is when walking long distances. I had some major blisters. Some people lost their toenails, and others had to drop out of the walk with other foot problems. I made it to the end, but it was challenging.

I have two pair of hiking shoes now, low ones and ankle high ones. I’ve had them for over a year and both pair are pretty well broken in.  I know how they feel and how they perform. I’m not sure which pair I will take to the Grand Canyon, but it will probably be the ankle boots, both for protection and stability.

Keene and Kuru – I probably should have used these for letter K

The steep grade on the descent requires shoes with plenty of room in the toe. With every step I’ll be sliding forward slightly and I don’t want my toes rubbing against the toe of the shoe. I’ve seen the recommendation of finding a shoe that’s comfortable and then buying one half size larger. I didn’t do that with my ankle boots, but I’m hoping with the extra lacing up over my ankle that my foot won’t slide much, if at all. These boots also have a thick sole, water resistant qualities and some breathability. Sometimes I wear them for everyday wear just because they are very comfortable.

I’ve also invested in thin, wool hiking socks that don’t bag or bunch up. They are padded and wick moisture away from my feet. (Cotton absorbs moisture, stretches out, and can chafe, so no cotton.) Guidelines for the hike suggest a thin, polypropylene sock as a liner underneath the wool sock but I haven’t found those yet. The most irritating sock problem is that pair that slides down, step by step, and disappears into my shoe. I’m testing all socks to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Another foot saving precaution I’m going to take is to carry certain items in my first aid kit. I’m taking moleskin to cover any blister that appears. I’m taking a product called Body Glide which is great to prevent chafing anywhere it occurs.

Good stuff to have on a hike.

The Grocery Walk

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One of the nicest things about living in a small town is how close I am to almost any kind of service I need or want. In the few months I have lived here I have thought on this many times. Take today, for instance. And honestly, you could take today, because it was almost a waste for me, due to a headache that hijacked my afternoon. If it had not been for my evening grocery walk, I wouldn’t have much good to say about this Monday.

I emerged from “headache fog” late in the day to be reminded by the husband that we had no milk. I thought of a few other things that should be on the list and decided to go shopping after supper. Walmart is literally in our backyard, and a second grocery store is about a half mile away, so I took my back pack and walked in search of food.

The store farthest away had one of the items I most wanted to get, so I went there first. The cool air and the act of moving myself rhythmically felt very restoring. It reminded me of the “contemplative walking” I had heard about in doing research for my upcoming Grand Canyon hike. Walking does give me time to think, and thinking makes the distance go so fast. There is also the benefit that I see things with time to look at them, unlike when I’m driving past.

I walked past Lake Hayward where a pair of Canadian geese were already looking for a nesting spot on the small area of open water.  The sidewalks and roadsides were covered with dirt left by the melting snowbanks. I passed numerous office buildings, my favorite clothing store, and Dairy Queen.  I wondered if an ice cream would be good for someone who had just had a headache for hours…

It didn’t take long to make my purchases at Marketplace and load up the coleslaw dressing, the organic bananas and the oatmeal in the backpack. It is a good thing that I’m carrying some weight on my walks because I’m supposed to be training that way – again for the Grand Canyon hike.  (Can you tell that I’m getting a little obsessed with this hike? It’s a bucket list item and I want to do it right.)

Passing Dairy Queen again, I decided to check the DQ app on my phone and, sure enough, I had a coupon for a $.50 cone.  I was feeling kind of guilty for not having change with me and having to use a credit card for that small amount, when I checked in my pocket and realized the credit card was no longer there.  By now I should realize that when I pull one thing out of my pocket, the phone, more than one thing sometimes comes out – it’s not the first time this has happened to me.  I knew it had to be a few yards back, on the sidewalk, but even so I was surprised to find it.  It’s a strange feeling to see something you normally guard with your life, glinting in the sun in the distance on the dirty sidewalk.

I thank God, I did get my $.50 ice cream cone and it was good.

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The last stop, Walmart, added milk, celery, and raspberries to my pack. A short distance later I was home again.

Why am I writing about this? Because it amazes me and makes me feel noticed when God allows a simple thing to come along and brighten my attitude.  Often, he uses a change of scenery, getting outdoors and doing something active to restore and help me feel better when I’ve felt miserable.  There will always be times in my average life that are not so great, but God balances them and somehow leaves me feeling blessed and aware of his kindness towards me. It doesn’t take much.

More “Up North”

My people are making plans to gather for Thanksgiving. They are coming “up north” where we have short, cold days. This gets me started thinking about what there is to do up here when I have visitors.

I’ve gotten suggestions of activities some would like to do, most of which are either out of the question, or I don’t even know what they are.  One of my daughters will be here for most of the week. Thank you, dear, for this list.

Her suggestions were:
Afternoon of frisbee golf       (didn’t I tell you it was snowing up here?)
Visiting a slaughterhouse    (um, no slaughterhouses. A new interest of yours?)
Build a Star Wars AT-AT out of bacon  (you don’t like to touch meat, remember?)
Skunk hunting (for sport)   (oh sure…)
Chapel Hill graffiti tour  (I don’t think we have a Chapel Hill)
Lunch at Chipotle   (no Chipotle… sorry)
Power walking race    (maybe, in Walmart – you ok with that?)
Photo shoot near the big pickle  (no, it’s a Musky and it’s a fish!)
Hip hop dance lessons   (I think we’d have to import a teacher, but yeah…)
Yarn bomb an italian restaurant  (no Italian restaurant, sorry)
Bit torrent party  (what?)
Go caroling outside some night clubs  (we have bars, not night clubs)
Camping!  (didn’t I tell you it was snowing up here?)
Make a turkducken  (you’re kidding… why?)
Night at the ballet   (no ballet, sorry)
Computer day (no one talks to anyone, except chat & email) (already do this, no)
Clean up a mile of I-40   (I think that’s in North Carolina, no)
Dress up Lily fashion show   (what?)
See if an iPad will blend    (what? what?)
Frozen margarita chugging contest    (my head hurts thinking about this…)
Uno    (Now you’re talkin’, yes)
Amish day  (how does one do that?)
Zelda marathon    (?what?)
Arts & crafts table at the flea market  (flea market closed when it started to snow – doubles as a hockey rink, sorry)
Make organic free-range black bean burritos   (maybe, what’s a free range black bean?)
Christmas shopping roulette  (incompatible ideas,  no)
Street racing with test drive cars  (snow, ice, remember? way too exciting)
Plant an acai garden   (the ground is frozen, no)
Afternoon of epic naps  (this will happen without planning, yes)
Record a music video  (we could do this in house, yes)
Visit a winery  (no winery, sorry)
Start a Google group   (you would want to do this? really?)

A couple of weeks ago the talk of the town was the high school play. I wasn’t too excited about a plot that centered around the trial of the wicked witch of the east and featured every fairy tale personage you’ve ever heard of, but mom decided she would go with my nephew. She said it was fun, so, based on her glowing review I decided to go the next night. I was desperate for a theatrical cultural experience and figured this was as close as I was bound to get for a while. I even ended up going ALONE, which takes some courage. I sat in the front row. It’s just what I do.

High school plays have not changed much in the last 50 years. I was so reminded of my first chances to be on stage. There is a lot to appreciate in these simple beginnings that teach poise, presence and test one’s memory of lines, and ability to be someone else. I still have an occasional nightmare where everyone is waiting for my line while I look frantically through the script to find it.  There was some of that this night, but overall the whole play was well rehearsed, and it was fun. I think the actors had fun too.

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The judge and one of the witnesses on the stand, Sleeping Beauty, I think.

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The three little pigs were bailiffs, kind of…

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Hansel and Gretel gave some incriminating testimony.

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The big, bad wolf was epic…

“Up north” activities may lack the variety and sophistication of big city life, but I see a simplicity and wholesomeness in what does take place. People work hard up here and their free time is often spent in community service, activities with their kids, or just being home. There are many choices in those categories. I’m just sayin’ that so far, I have no trouble keeping busy.

Birkie Trail, Next 6 miles

This is the second weekend that we have put on our hiking shoes and taken to the trail. After a week’s work, we really enjoy a good long walk in the woods. We skipped a shorter section in favor of a longer hike than last week. We will go back and pick it up someday when we have less time.

The trees were still more green than colored. There were only a few brilliant ones, but that didn’t keep it from feeling like autumn.

I was a little obsessed with the fungi, but you’ll see why. Strange stuff.

Enough talk. I just want you to see what I saw.

Makwa Trail, here we come.

First spot of color.

The trail skirts this lake except for here, where it gets a little crazy. This is a single track bike trail.

Moss abounds. Lovely, right?

Time for some fungi.

More fungi.

And more…

And this one!

This little guy, about head high on the trunk of a tree, amazing!

Can you spot the camouflaged picnic table?

One more.

No, one more.

Some trail worker forgot their saw.

I spent a lot of time looking at the path because it was always so lovely.

About mile 6 we left the single track trail and did a mile on the larger ski trail. We (the girls) were getting tired and the ski trail was straighter and smoother.

Wonderful Day

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Every now and then, when I really need a wonderful day, one comes along. Of course, all days, even the worst of them, have something wonderful about them if you have enough energy to look for it. But this day, it was full of back to back niceness, the likes of which I have not seen in a while.

We went to the smallest and earliest of the three church services at Hayward Wesleyan, where we have started to feel at home. It was satisfying, encouraging, and did not make the husband cry (well, maybe a little, but he held it together…). The weather got beautiful so we went for a walk afterward, just the two of us. He felt good today, noticeably good.

Breakfast with the relatives after church. It’s a ritual. We go to Flat Creek Eatery for the fellowship more than the food and it’s always good to spend time with my aunts and uncles and Mom. Smiths, Boones, and lots of coffee.

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We are working on the Hayward Cluster now, soon to go on to Seeley, then Cable.

My brother, who is also a Dennis, his wife and I had planned a hike for the afternoon. By 2:30 we were out in the woods and it was perfectly gorgeous. We have a goal of hiking the complete distance from Hayward to the end of the Birkiebeiner trail near Cable, in sections. This was probably the shortest section, 5.7 miles on my counter, Hatchery Creek Trail to Mosquito Brook. I LOVE BEING IN THE WOODS. Enough said.

This is an  “intermediate difficulty” single track trail. The real difficulty is jumping out of the way when a fat tire bike suddenly appears, going fast!

This was midway. The signs are pointing to them, but those are not their names. 

 

Fungus fans, what do you call these gorgeous things? 

For some hard to figure reason, someone thought this lovely table should be chained and weighted. 

These are wintergreen berries, common on the forest floor “up north”. Tasty.

A “grandfather” of the forest in the piney section of the walk.

Several sturdy shelters have been built along the trails – used mostly as a warming house for winter skiers. 

Mosquito (“Skeeter”) Brook, running high through the forest.

The husband had time for a good rest while we were gone. We got back just in time for a cup of soup before heading off to the next fun thing. Choir.

I didn’t realize how much I have missed music – good, cooperatively produced music. Our community has formed a volunteer choir which has performed a Christmas cantata of some sort for the last 20+ years. This year the director is a … hmm, dynamic might be the word, young woman who is filled with the spirit of worship and loves to do this job. The two hours went so fast! I was impressed and I know I am going to love this time each week. The husband is going to love it too. I can tell. And it will be a great way for us to get to know some people in our new location.

Four fun things in one day has me worried that I may have used up my quota for the week. I’m kidding. There are enough good things “up north” to fill the whole week, I’m sure. And I will be looking for them.

The husband is trying very hard to stick to his keto diet, lose weight and figure out how to regard this Lewy Body Dementia thing. When he is feeling positive, the world seems a bit brighter and lighter in its weightiness. Today he walked and talked much like his old self. We are wanting lots more of this kind of day. Just sayin’, who wouldn’t?

Labor Day “Up North”

I’d be interested to know what Labor Day means to you, besides a long holiday weekend, if you care to comment. I had to look it up, and as the article mentioned, it is a strange holiday with no specific rituals attached. I tend to think that all important holidays have deteriorated into excuses for eating and parades, but this one actually did start that way. Who knew?

I will tell you one feature of my new life “up north” that has to do with labor. I often think that I have inherited a few work genes (not work jeans) from my dad and his love of machinery. One of his jobs in his later years was mowing the fields and yards around the Par Place condominium development. I live here now and the grass is still growing and needing to be mowed.

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I have not yet named this fine machine but I will have to since we seem to be getting intimate.

A couple weeks ago my brother gave me a lesson on the lawnmower, knowing how much I miss mowing grass at the oneacrewoods (in Florida). What could be better than a oneacrewoods? How about a 20acrewoods? I don’t really know how big this property is but it took almost five hours of mowing today and I didn’t do it all. It is a neatly planned development of condos, most of them are duplex but a couple are single houses. In addition there is my brother’s yard and the area around the barn. Last but not least there is the nature path around the wetlands which is kept mowed short for easy walking. Much of this property used to be a golf course, so there are some fields and open areas to mow as well. When it’s all done it looks absolutely beautiful.

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Part of my brother’s yard used as a soccer field (before I mowed it).

I’m also given pretty free reign to weed the flower beds and berms, use the trimmer, and other yard tools as needed for various projects. There is a diesel Gator for hauling tools and brush and a zero turn mower that is probably twice as big as my Toro down south. All of this pleases me very much and helps me feel at home. Yard work has always been like therapy for me so I guess I’m going to be getting emotionally healthy, at least until winter sets in. And on the subject of cold, guess what? I was outside working all afternoon and never broke a sweat. That’s right, it’s not 90 degrees and humid.

The nature path, nicely mowed

So, happy Labor Day to all! May your labor be satisfying and balanced with a sufficient amount of rest. That’s what is happening here in Hayward, “up north”, because I’m going to start a fire in the back patio fire pit and sit around having supper with my family. A good day…

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Up North: September Challenge

Okay. I’ll admit I’ve been a little quiet about our new life “up north”. I think it’s a mild form of shock, if there is such a thing. I can hardly believe I’m really back living in Hayward, thousands of miles from Florida, on my grandfather’s farmstead, in my Mom’s condo.  I’m trying to find a place for myself (and the husband) up here and it takes a lot of introspection. Introspection wears me out. “Worn out me” tends to revert to endless games of spider solitaire (confession time), jigsaw puzzles (hours spent here), thick paperback novels (three in the last two weeks), and occasionally, just sitting and looking out the window. Anything except writing.  After all,  these are stereotypical retirement activities and am I not retired now?

Haha, no, not really.

There is plenty to do up here – real work, including writing. For my own sake, I need to exercise some discipline and record the journey (that is, life) in this new place. Writing should be a daily activity, a joy, a relief, a healing outlet and a way of sharing. Thirty days hath September, and each one shall be recorded in some fashion. If I can do it in April, (A to Z in April) why not now?

In defense of jigsaw puzzles, I need to explain. Each time we finish, Mom says “Did you take the picture? Of course, I do, although I don’t always post them here or on Facebook. There is almost always a puzzle in progress in this house. We know the kinds we like, the kinds we agonize over and won’t choose to do again. We have different methods of hunting for pieces depending on the puzzle. We have special Styrofoam boards on which to lay out the pieces, and we now bag up the edge pieces separately when we put them away. These are the fine points.

The value in all this puzzling? I can think of three benefits. First, it does make us think about so many things. Color, shape, texture, direction, recognition all have to register and be in operation to get a puzzle from a pile of pieces to a picture. Secondly, no matter what stresses we have been immersed in before or after, the time spent doing the puzzle is a break. We concentrate, get engrossed. It clears our minds and emotions.

Thirdly, probably most important, it is time spent together. We don’t always talk, but often we do. All kinds of things come up as we sit there, knowing that the other person is not in a hurry, not going to rush off somewhere. We probably don’t solve any world problems, but that’s not to say we couldn’t. Who knows?

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So here is our last puzzle. We liked it because there were no parts so hard that we got stuck. We were always finding pieces, 1,000 of them to be exact.  We will probably be doing puzzles more as the days get colder and there is less to do outside. We have a whole stack of them waiting, thanks to our friend Sandy who traded with us.

I’m just sayin’ there are a whole lot of worse things we could be doing with our leisure time, here “up north”.

And I may actually write about some of them this month. The plan is to share life, the small and the significant, the joy and the pain, the awe and the awful… here it comes. 

The Hard Work of Resting

August 5, 2017

20170805_093237-1I am technically resting, sitting in a comfortable chair, wondering what it really means to rest. It is Saturday, which always reminds me that there is a seventh day of the week, at least on the calendar we use. And on the seventh day of creation God rested. He looked at all his work and was satisfied, and then he rested, or stopped working. He didn’t stop because it was the seventh day. He stopped because he was done with a project. Resting is fun when you are done with a project, but what if you don’t feel done?

Of course, I am not God. I need to rest for other reasons like being tired and needing to refresh and recharge. I’m enough “in God’s image” to wish that I could look at my work and pronounce it good, finished to a satisfactory point, so I could rest. But I’m more like my human composition – I have to be commanded (kindly) to not work myself to death.

To rest must also have a deeper meaning than to do something that I consider fun. I pepper my time every day with fun. I knit, I do solitaire challenges, I sit and read, I ride my bike, I watch TV. I have a lot of fun, restful activity. In all of it my mind is engaged in something other than work. But none of that requires me to engage with God or my own mortality. What does that is aging. The longer I survive, the easier it becomes to think about God and what his plans might be.

I become more interested in looking back, trying to see a pattern, a progression. I become more interested in the clues in my environment that inform me of how God works. I become more impressed that he actually has a written word of instruction – one that has surpassed the effects that any of its scribes could have imagined.

This week we had a storm. It wasn’t a particularly bad one, but it cleaned a lot of dead wood out of the trees. I suppose that is God’s purpose in a storm, whether it be in the woods or in my life. Today, as I rest, I’m going to think about how it is that things become new, with dead stuff removed, and appearances changed.

 

It Happened So Fast

wp-1475003441376.jpgThoughts at the beginning of what would have been a bike ride…

(Early morning, September 26, 2016)

No! What’s happening?! The pedal is flipping and I’m off balance. I’m going down hard. The handlebar is going right into my neck. Bad place to hit.

It’s over, that was quick. How suddenly things can change. Hurts, hurts.  Is there any way this could be fatal?

Don’t panic, you are still thinking, for the moment… That’s a good sign. Hold still, wait.

That was quite a poke in the neck, really hurts. Hope no major vessels were torn.

My hand on my neck might be stabilizing something, I’d better not move it yet. Wait.

It’s really peaceful and still, just sitting here. Look how nothing else has changed. Sunshine, trees, a butterfly. I’m not losing consciousness, must not be bleeding internally. I am so aware of still being alive and so aware of how quickly I could have been dying. God, thank you and please help me not be injured badly.

(3 minutes)

It must be okay to move. I can’t feel anything changing in my neck. I can feel the abrasion now, stinging. Swallowing hurts a little. I suppose I could worry about my airway, but I don’t feel swelling. Not yet. I’m going to stand up.

I wonder what this looks like, need to go in the house and look. Hmmm… right over the jugular. How did that not tear something? Thank God for skin and a tough body.

I feel funny, rattled, sort of fearful. Is this a fear I should conquer by getting back on the bike right away? I should at least pick it up off the driveway.

The wheel won’t turn and something is bent. (Thank God, I can’t ride it!)

Why did this happen? What will I do differently if there’s a “next time”? There’s no one else at fault, just me. I think I was moving too fast – just didn’t see that the pedal wasn’t flat before putting my foot on it. Need to check everything deliberately.

Is there any way this could mean I’m getting incapable? I’m not used to accidents. Have they been happening more often because of changes in me? I’ll bet that thought will occur to others. I’m going to put it on hold for now.

I should put an ice pack on my neck and forget exercise for today. Going to take it easy, just sayin’…