Category: adventure

Neither snow, nor…

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

I looked it up. “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”  Add to that list cracked windshields and minus 25 degree weather.

I knew it was going to be a week of new experiences, even before my friend called. She is always apologetic when she asks for help, that’s how I know something is coming. “I know you might be really busy tomorrow, and that’s okay, could you possibly drive my mail route with me? My windshield is cracked and I’m waiting on a new one. There aren’t any mail vehicles available and I’m going to have to deliver from my SUV.”

There was a time when I thought the USPS supplied vehicles to all their carriers. You know, those white truck-like ones with the name and logo in blue. It turns out, there aren’t very many of those, not nearly enough for all the rural routes in our area. Most of our local mail carriers have bought their own vehicles, specially equipped with controls on the right. My friend has a very nice Jeep that’s not even a year old. Word has it that there is a defect in the windshields (not just hers) that causes some dangerous cracks. The warranty covers replacement, but finding a windshield is hard. She would have to wait a month or more for one on back order. 

But her immediate concern was doing the route the very next day. I decided it might be fun to see what it’s like to deliver mail. I agreed to help.

It was -25 degrees F in the morning, the day after President’s Day. Mail holidays always result in more mail to deliver than usual. As I sat in my house, considering what to wear on this adventure, a thought came. We were going to be driving a 70 mile route with a window down. It would probably take six or more hours. It might be kind of chilly.  Probably should put on everything I have. 

I arrived at the post office around 10 am. Sharron had already been at work since 7 arranging her mail trays and loading packages in her car. It was full – the kind of full that makes you shut the door quickly so nothing falls out. She had me get in the car and start getting it warmed up. She finally got in the passenger seat, with two trays of mail on her lap and packages under her feet. 

My friend Sharron

“Are you nervous?” she asked. 

“No.” I answered. 

“I am.” I could have asked her to explain, but decided not to. Best to act confident. 

Her route starts on the south edge of town so it didn’t take long for my training to begin. She kept telling me to drive slow and steady. And then I realized why she was nervous. She had put herself and all this mail in the care of a driver of unknown skill. And she was asking me to drive within inches of hundreds of mailboxes without hitting any of them. She was actually quite brave. And desperate. And nervous. 

She would take a couple trays of mail in the front with her.  Letter, magazines and packages were arranged in order of the route. She would pick letters from the tray and scan packages with her scanner, bare handed. It’s not something that can easily be done with gloves on. Next she would reach out the open window and stuff them in the mailbox.  When a tray was empty, we pulled over and she got a full one from the back. On we went. 

Tray after tray of letters and an SUV full of packages

I had heard her talking about people on her mail route. She often had to take a package to their door. Sometimes she had conversations with them, and she had come to know them.  She knew the color and size of each upcoming mailbox. She knew who had a dog, and what their dog’s name was. She knew who shopped Amazon regularly and who got lots of magazines. Once in a while she would hold her hands over the heat vent to recover from the cold. We delivered mail all day.  Often in the winter, she would be driving the route in the dark, but not today. We were done around 5 and the sun was still on the horizon. 

There were no breaks and no lunch hour.  There was an unheated bathroom stop at a park, and another at a bar where she delivered mail. They were brief. Although sheltered in the car and quite bundled up, we were somewhat cold all day. The window was open nearly all the time while we drove. It did get up to 7 degrees, which was the high temp for the day. 

I have new appreciation for my friend and the way she does her work. I am thankful there are people who love that job enough to do it, day after day.  I used to wonder if I would like working for the postal service. But my idea of the job was walking through residential neighborhoods, with a cool uniform, and a backpack of letters. Not this. You could not pay me to do this for a living. Nope. 

But I enjoyed helping for a day. It was a very cool (literally) adventure. And I only hit one mailbox, or bumped it, maybe. It didn’t fall over, just sayin’…

Adventures at Julia’s Farm: The Haw

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

There are quite a few things that fascinate me, among them are recreational fires (not forest fires!) and rivers. They don’t have to be big rivers either. As a child, I discovered a small creek at my grandparent’s farm and you would have thought I’d discovered a new ocean, even though it dried up completely in dry years. Just the thought of water coming from somewhere distant and flowing past me in seemingly endless supply was so alluring.

That is now one of the most exciting things about being in North Carolina, where there are rivers and creeks EVERYWHERE. You aren’t here long before you notice that most of their roads are named after churches or rivers and the mills and bridges connected to them. Indeed, Riverbend Farm where I am staying with my daughter’s family is on Brooks Bridge Road, and Brooks Bridge crosses the Haw River. The Haw borders the northeast boundary of Riverbend Farm and the riding trail that follows it is one of my favorite places to explore.

Pre-flood, the Haw has some whitewater stretches
The black line shows the river trail. Arrow 1 was our first try, arrow 2 ends at the junction of Shanahan Creek and the Haw where the lake was.

I get to look at about half a mile of this 110 mile river. It used to have quite a few dams blocking it, providing power for early industrialization of the area. One of the dams is along this half mile, just north of Brooks Bridge. There are projects planned to remove some of the dams and restore the river to a cleaner, more recreational use, but there is nothing like that happening on the stretch I see. I feel sorry for this part of the Haw, especially when there are heavy rains like we’ve had this winter. It is swift, muddy and choked with uprooted trees and debris.

The dam at Brooks Bridge

But it is still fascinating to see what a river does, when it is the recipient of a large watershed. “I should go down there and check it out”, I said to myself after our last two day deluge. I had heard reports of water high enough to cover the road, although I could hardly imagine it could happen.

Kevin, Julia’s husband, creates the riding trails through his property down to the river and through 30 acres of land that was clear cut a few years ago. The forest will grow back, but right now it’s treacherous with downed trees, undergrowth of berry bushes, holly and other thorny plants. I followed the trail down a steep hill to the path along the river. Did I mention that GwennieRu was with me in the buggy? Yes. And the hill was steep enough that I turned the buggy around and backed down it. I didn’t plan on having to go up that hill again. So much for plans.

We eventually came upon places where the river breached the trail. Even though the backwaters were not flowing, there was no telling how deep and muddy they were so I had to go back the way we had come.

We tried another trail accessing the river and at the bottom of that one there was a lake where there’s not usually a lake. A small creek drains much of Riverbend Farm and it enters the Haw at this junction. The banks are usually four or five feet above the creek but on this day there were no banks.

The trail down the hill
The muddy Haw at flood stage
Part of the flooded trail
Junction Shanahan Creek and Haw
Flood stage erosion

This ever changing nature of the river, along with the power of its moving water is both eerie and fascinating. Although not in danger ourselves, being close enough to hear the rapids, and see huge trees that have fallen in and been carried along – it’s breathtaking. I can’t get enough of looking and imagining.

Log jams like this are not uncommon and difficult to clean up.

I would love to see this part of the river cleaned up and made navigable but it is far too big of a project for an individual landowner to tackle. Fortunately, most of the time the river is much lower, the trails dry out and life along the river returns to normal. It’s a beautiful place to walk or ride horse, and I feel blessed to finally have an interesting river in my life.

But you will not catch me down there when it’s chigger season, no, no, no. Been there, done that. Just sayin’… (Click here for that story.)

Where Am I to Sleep?

Shirleyjdietz3 Comments

That was the question in my mind as I traveled south to be with my daughter’s family for a few weeks. And not just to sleep, but to lay out my suitcase, charge my computer, and all the other things that people do when they live someplace. I have stuff with me. Where am I going to put it?

River Bend Farm has a large farmhouse with four bedrooms. However, the rooms are occupied with Julia’s three stepchildren, and of course, Julia and husband Kevin. They don’t even have a designated spot for the baby when she comes.

My plan was to look for something portable, like a camper trailer, and to do it as soon as possible after arriving. During the first week, while I was borrowing one of the children’s rooms, I started looking on Facebook marketplace for used campers. Having never owned an RV of any kind I knew nothing.

I looked at little, cute and retro. But there wasn’t even room to set my suitcase. I looked at large and roomy but it was 16 years old and I wasn’t sure I could handle that much brown in my living space. I was saved from further deliberation when my son-in-law said a friend had a nice later model camper and was willing to sell it underpriced, as a personal favor. It had space for 10 people to sleep, which was a little frightening, but we went to see it. I now own it and have jumped on the learning curve of RV life.

Quibble

I have named it Quibble (model 295QBLE). It came none too soon. I got sick and needed a place to retreat and quarantine. It came home with Kevin and I the same day we went to see it. He parked it close to the barn where there was an electrical outlet. That’s when I learned that you have to be somewhat of an electrician (which I am not) to match your electricity with your camper. Even after watching a You Tube video on amps, volts and watts, the thought of having to figure out that equation for every one of my devices was too much. Kevin kindly drove to town and got adapters, so I could run the AC. That was enough for one night.

You also have to be somewhat of a plumber (sorry, also not) to feel peaceful about your faucets, toilets, water and pumps. Kevin and I finally got a small stream of water to run into the kitchen sink by hooking a hose up to a hole labeled “city water”, no city anywhere close. But who knew that I needed a drinking water hose, a water filter and a pressure regulator. Not me. My water pump, which shouldn’t have been turned on at all, was supposed to be whisper quiet. It started making enough noise that I could hear it even above the AC unit. I may have made it permanently very quiet. I have watched videos on water, gray water, and black water. Even I could figure out what those were.

One day I figured out the refrigerator. The next day I got a ladder and gave Quibble a good washing. Yesterday I drove back to meet the previous owner and got the title transferred and notarized. Today I tried to figure out insurance and registration. And in the days ahead I will learn about the stove and the propane tanks and the outdoor kitchen, and why the lights in the slide out don’t work. There are YouTube videos about all these things. I am discovering a whole new world of fun things to do.

But now I have my space. I almost feel guilty retreating to my air conditioned fiberglass box

Out by the barn, where I belong.

The Last Time

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

The title is a bit scary, but not really, if you consider how many “last times” there are. Tonight I read to the husband for the last time today. I wiped off the kitchen counter for the last time tonight. I had my last spoonful of ice cream before putting the lid on and sticking it back in the freezer (yes, I eat out of the carton). There’s a “last time” to be considered at every turn of life, and that thought alone has got me thinking about the preciousness of each moment.

Today was a great day for taking my last ski outing, and by last I mean that I have met my goal of 25 times this season. I am content for it to be the last – winter has seemed long. There is a lot of water around as the snow melts and it’s good to hear and see the brooks opening holes in the ice. There are lots of signs of spring. I was almost afraid it would be here before I reached my ski goal, but no, there is still snow in the forest.

It’s wet snow in the open places where the sun hits it. Snow gets kind of airy, sticky and rotten when it’s heated. In the shade it cools again and gets hard, icy and very slick and I could feel the difference in the speed of my skis. But the real challenge was all the piles of debris on the trail. The ice storm last week brought down lots of limbs. Pine cones and needles were all across the trail where volunteers had been through with chain saws and taken the big branches off.

This is not the worst mess I encountered, by any means, and it is on the flat and not at the bottom of a hill. Annoying but not dangerous.

Although I have improved in my balance, and my technique this winter, what I’ve really gotten better at is being cautious. The falls I’ve had, and the ones I’ve seen my friends take, have proved to me that things happen so, so fast. I’m now always thinking about what could happen in a given situation, and the risk involved. How sad would it be if, after skiing all season without breaking anything, I would fall and become injured on my 25th, and last, time? It would be very sad.

I thought about this at numerous points along the trail, but especially at the top of one hill on Hilly Loop. I generally like hills and going a little faster now, but at the bottom of this one there was a tree mess. I knew I would pick up speed going down and there would be a sudden slowing when my skis hit the debris. I had already “snow plowed” down a couple inclines and actually side stepped down one, but this time I actually took off the skis and walked down. Yay me.

Once I got out of the pines and into some hardwood areas the skiing was a bit better. I enjoyed the longest distance of any of my times on the snow – only 5.4 miles – but it made a nice finish for my last time. I felt very grateful for the day, the activity, the beautiful weather, and the fact that I was intact and not hurting (in very many places). It was wonderful to be alive, with the possibility of living to ski next year.

Today, I think they call it being “in the moment”. Isn’t that the same as being fully aware of what you’re doing and that it might be the last time you ever did it? Yeah, I think it is. Just sayin’…

Celebrating small victories, last times and being in the moment.

Birkie Hike: We Finish!

Shirleyjdietz2 Comments

Just to clarify – I have two Gwens in my life. One is my mother and the other is the friend who has been hiking the Birkie with me. Some who know us have been asking…

November 3, 2021. North End TH to Timber TH, loop. 6.5 miles, 14,828 steps

I asked, “Do you think we really need to go down this hill and touch that road?”

“Yes, of course we do,” Gwen told me. And so we walked down that last hill which marked the completion of our 34 miles of Birkie trail, stuck our poles in the sand, took a picture and started back up the hill. We had walked on the skate side of the Birkie and were looping back to the car on the classic side.

Today was cloudy and cold enough for gloves and hats, but we did end up shedding our outer layer of jackets. At one point near the end, we saw several large white snowflakes falling in the forest so we knew it was in the low 30’s for temperature.

I had spent time studying the map of our remaining section and had printed it out. That meant we only had to question ourselves at a couple intersections where fresh logging roads had added to the confusion.

Rocks and trees are the main features of this forest trail and the subjects of most of my photos. I’ve also started a collection of “meaningful” rocks to mark different hikes I’ve done, so I was on the lookout for a rock. The one that caught my attention was a bit bigger than the pebbles I usually pick up, but it had a pattern to it, and I liked it. Gwen doesn’t stop me from doing stupid stuff, she even carried the rock for me when I needed a rest. We had guesses as to how much it weighed. She won. Thirty-five pounds.

Good job Gwen. This rock will show its pattern more after I wash it up a bit.

Our last stop before leaving Cable, Wisconsin and the Birkie Trail was the Brick House Cafe. It wasn’t that we were hungry, or needed the calories but more that I needed to see if the Chocolate Tower cake was as good as Gwen said it was. I figured we should mark our accomplishment with some kind of splurge, even if we ended up taking it home to put in the freezer (which, by the way, didn’t happen). This cafe is known for its lunches and desserts as attested to by the dozen hunters, and huntresses who trooped in shortly after we were seated.

What I really feel good about, in addition to feeling very exercised, is that I got to be a tourist in my own backyard. I would feel sad not to know what this internationally famous trail was like. Now I know where the trailheads are, how difficult and hilly the terrain can be, and how many more paths are there yet to be explored. I have that sense of ownership that comes with familiarity, and that feels good. The chances of me ever skiing this trail are almost nonexistent, well, they are nonexistent. Really nonexistent. But I have walked it. That’s good enough for me.

Hiking the Birkebeiner: Part 2

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments
Most of the leaves are on the ground now and walking in them is fun and “autumn-ish”.

Tomorrow Gwen and I will finish the last section of the Birkie Trail, and it’s good timing because we are starting to get snow flurries and temps in the teens. Hiking this northern section of the trail has been quite different because we have used the actual Birkie trail rather than the single track bike trails. Another difference is that it’s about the busiest place “out in the woods” that I’ve ever seen. We are always crossing ATV trails, bike trails, logging trails and fire lanes and more than once we have been confused. Often we are telling ourselves to just enjoy the walk in the woods and see where we end up, because we have no clue where we are. Backing up, here are the finished sections.

September 12, 2021 Hatchery TH to Hwy 77 Bridge

I explored this short section myself one afternoon because I’ve been curious about the bridge ever since it went up. For years the Birkie ski race used to cross Hwy 77 near this spot and the road actually had to be covered with snow and closed while thousands of skiers crossed it. There was even talk of tunneling under the road, but the eventual decision was to put a bridge over it, making it much more convenient and safe. I’ve gone under this bridge countless times, and now I’ve also gone over it.

Down the road is the Namekagon River valley and the town of Hayward.

September 17, 2021. OO TH to Firetower TH. 5.53 miles, 12,410 steps

We had some logistical help when we hiked the section of OO to the Fire Tower trailhead. My brother dropped us off at the Fire Tower warming cabin and picked us up a couple hours later at the Johnson Center on OO. He rode mountain bike trails in the area while we hiked. In fact, there were quite a few bikers riding the trails that day. I guess some of them got hot and sweaty and had to change clothes, at least that’s the story we told ourselves as we passed the warming cabin at Boedecker Road where a guy was standing naked by his car. The things you see in the woods… I did not take a picture. It was a beautiful fall day in all respects!

September 30, 2021 Firetower TH to Timber Trail TH 6.9 miles, 15,484 steps

A couple weeks later we did the next section ourselves, doing a loop from the Fire Tower TH to Timber Trail warming cabin on the classic trail and back on the skate trail. It was another beautiful afternoon, but we had a later start. We didn’t make it back to the car until 6 pm and the sun was nearly down. Our days are getting noticeably shorter. This one got us a little tired. We did extra steps looking for trail signs and my real step count for that day was 19,172.

This map does not include logging roads and single track bike trails. We were often surprised to find out where we were. Thankful for the red arrows.

October 26, 2021. American Birkebeiner TH to North End TH. No idea

I could hardly believe we had taken almost a month off. It didn’t seem like that long a time because both Gwen and I started going to Ski and Tea. It’s a ladies ski group coached by some amazing, experienced cross country skiers. We’ve been getting together nearly every week for training on the Birkie. Since there’s no snow, we practice various ski techniques while hiking – it works. On the afternoon of the 26th we drove to the far end of the trail, the Birkebeiner TH in Cable and walked in some kind of a weird circle until we got back to the car a couple of hours later. Too many intersections, too many maps, too many trails. I think we set foot on enough of the Birkie to say we did a good section. My total step count for the day was 15,464, about 7 miles. Have I mentioned that there are lots of hills? There are LOTS OF HILLS.

No, not confusing at all…

And as I wrote, tomorrow we will hike our last section, Lord willing. I hope to post about our triumphant finish. Excited! Check in to see if we made it (and find out about our planned reward).

Hiking the Birkebeiner: Part 1

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

(Well, not exactly the Birkie, but right alongside it. Also, “TH” in this post stands for trailhead. All trailheads can be found on Google maps.)

Again, summer is short and almost over so I’m doing my best to section hike the 30 some miles from Hayward to Mt. Telemark. The Birkie Trail is quite wide and has some steep hills. The CAMBA bike trail, which goes over much of the same terrain, winds through the shady woods and is probably a little longer in length – but goes to the same endpoint. I prefer hiking in the woods where it’s cooler and more interesting and up close to nature.

Dot to dot shows the second and third sections we have hiked. The challenge is to do the loops above and below as well, which roughly follow the Birkie trail from Hayward to Mt. Telemark in the Cable area. Total about 40 miles.

I have a friend, Gwen, who hikes with me. I feel it’s an act of God that we found each other since she seems to be willing to do strange (read extreme) things and shares the same love of challenges. And yet, she is not terrifyingly weird. I feel blessed.

It takes two of us in order to have a car at both ends of each day’s hike. Today we were meeting at 7 am at the trailhead and it seemed very early. The sun was barely up and was red orange behind a screen of smoke blown in from Canadian forest fires. We left my car at Gravel Pit TH and I jumped in with her for the ride to County Road OO TH. So far the sections we’d finished had been around 5 miles each from trailhead to trailhead. That’s a very reasonable couple of hours of hiking plus the drive time. This was going to be the longest yet, 7.3 miles, and we thought it might seem a little strenuous going through wooded, hilly terrain. Strenuous meant we justified bringing food along.

Hills, trees, rocks, water, repeat.

It was a perfect morning for hiking. We warmed up but never got really sweaty. Normally we talk a lot while walking, but this trek was long enough that we actually had some silent stretches where we just enjoyed looking around at the beautiful woods and listening to… nothing. No road traffic noise, no motor boats, no ATVs. There were birds. Birds are okay.

Yes, after not hitting that rock, they ride bikes between those trees. Insane. I had to be careful walking there.

For those who are interested in hiking in our area, here is our schedule and times. Whenever the bike trail is one way, I like to walk against traffic so I can see who is coming. Often the bikes are so quiet that they surprise us. During the week, we may not see any bikers at all. On weekends the trails are busier.

Our first section was Hatchery TH to Mosquito Brook TH. 4.6 miles in just under 2 hours

Second section was Mosquito Brook TH to Gravel Pit TH. 5.16 miles in 2 hours 15 minutes.

Third section, which we did today was Gravel Pit TH to OO TH. 7.3 miles in about 3 hours.

This section puts us half way to our goal. All three sections are parts of the single track Makwa Trail. All the trailheads are accessible by roads that they cross. The roads closest to Hayward are all paved but as we get farther from town, we are having to use fire lanes in the woods and they are gravel, but well maintained.

You can see our gravel access road, and the smoke haze from the fires north of Lake Superior.

For me, hiking is like soul food. I get hungry for it. It’s necessary for my sanity and never feels like time wasted.

Triathlon Time

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

I’ve said it before, summer is short and almost over here “up north”. I almost panic when I think about all the warm weather things I wanted to do and how few days are left to do them. One of the most significant adventures got crossed off the list last week – my own version of a triathlon. Don’t judge.

First, I don’t like to do this alone and was so glad to find a willing companion. She was a visitor to this area and clueless so I made it sound like a wonderful adventure. She not only wanted to do it but brought her dog along. The dog, of course, was also clueless.

Me and clueless friend, Bonnie, already hot and sweaty. Triathlons are hard.

The first leg of our triathlon was to get in the car and drive to Round Lake Linden Road boat landing. We all did well with this. The dog was especially good.

The road repair people tried to confuse us on the way there with these white strips on the pavement. It looked like toilet paper. Turned out, it was toilet paper. Who knew?

The second challenge was the peninsula walk of about 3 miles, maybe a bit more. The dog got a little tired and hot so we let her cool off in the lake at the Narrows. Round Lake Peninsula is so beautiful this time of year and we had so much to look at and talk about that this part of the triathlon went by quickly.

Wait, I’m supposed to do what? And do I have to drag my little poop bag along with me?

The third challenge, the wade/swim, gave the dog some confusion. She was used to swimming out to fetch a stick, and then swimming back to shore. But this was different. We waded out on the sand bar and kept going. And, of course, she had shorter legs than we did and had to swim a lot farther. My feet took a beating, since there were dangerous rocks everywhere and I had taken my sneakers off and put them in my waterproof bag. My phone also took a turn for the worse because of a hole in my supposedly waterproof phone pouch. Aside from that we did really well and after our exhausting walk that water felt so good! Completing the circular route, we were back at the boat landing and drying off in record time – probably about 90 minutes.

This Peninsula Walk/Swim is pretty much a family tradition, having been done most every summer since my girls could swim. Family and friends have joined us and most everyone has a super good time. I think the dog did too, but don’t ask her. Just sayin’…

Me-Kwa-Mooks Park: West Seattle

Shirleyjdietz8 Comments

It was the last day of my visit to Seattle. Younger daughter and I were walking down Beach Drive SW, on our daily exercise walk, looking for something interesting to see or do. She mentioned a park that we would soon be walking past that had some very nice features, and more of an old growth, untouched atmosphere. We decided to venture into Me-Kwa-Mooks Park.

This saying is credited to Chief Sealth, sometimes called Chief Seattle, for whom the city of Seattle is named. The Duwamish people were the original inhabitants of the park.

Me-Kwa-Mooks is an Indian name meaning “shaped like a bear’s head”. If you use your imagination, you might say that about the West Seattle peninsula, especially if you had a map or a good aerial view. The entrance to the park is on the east side of Beach Drive in a small clearing with several picnic tables. The trailhead is identified by a sign and several plaques that are covered with brush and barely legible. Like most other parts of West Seattle coastline, this park is located on uphill slopes that end with a rather steep climb up a bluff. It’s about 20 acres of heavily wooded, undeveloped land.

The trail is narrow and you have to hunt for it.

Undeveloped, perhaps, but there are trails and some evidence of work having been done on them. Someone had been pulling out piles of English ivy, an invasive plant, and there was an irrigation line visible along the path in places. But there was no signage, and some of the trails ended abruptly. Having been there before, younger daughter knew one trail led to another entrance farther down on Beach Drive. She also knew that there was a trail that led to the top of the bluff. That was the one we wanted.

This was a path that suddenly didn’t go anywhere.

The trail to the top, naturally, was the trail that kept going up in switchbacks, becoming steeper and less easily navigated. It eventually went straight up, a dirt path with no natural hand holds or places for feet to rest. But, lo, there was a hose – the flat, cloth covered kind – and it came from somewhere up above and held our weight, so we grabbed it and climbed. And just when the hose no longer followed the path, we saw a rope that finally helped us to the top.

Don’t know why this hose was there but it came in handy…
We could have used a longer rope.
This was our exit point. Wouldn’t your inner child just love to have a creepy hole like this to dive into?

The Wikipedia article about the park states that in 1994 a bunch of 4th and 5th graders from a local school helped make the park. That’s exactly the feel I got from our experience. It was a mythical, magical forest, perfect place for tree forts, treacherous paths, and dangling ropes leading to “who knows where”, a kid’s dream playground.

We made it to the top, mostly because there was no way we were going back down some of the places we had been. It was clearly not everyone’s “walk in the park” and I was a little surprised that it was accessible in this day of lawsuits and litigation. Risk was involved. We had fun, but I’m thinking most people take the other path. Just sayin’…

The Least Favored Soup

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

The Least Favored Soup

They kept coming, wave after wave of people carrying backpacks, looking a bit dazed, numb. They were hungry and they needed food, warm liquid, salt, calories. They had just skied 29K in below freezing temperatures. This was the Kortelopet and Prince Haakon races of the American Birkebeiner. https://www.birkie.com/ski/events/kortelopet/

Our small town hosts this winter event every year in February, unless there is no snow or the temperatures are deadly, rare situations. The number of people in town goes from the usual 2500 to 40,000 for the two days of races. It’s a pretty big deal for people who like snow. It takes nearly the whole town volunteering to pull it off. This is my second year of helping in the food tent, where all the skiers congregate after crossing the finish line.

The International Bridge which all skiers cross to reach the finish. It is erected over the main highway and covered with snow.

My brother is one of the race chiefs, heading up the serving of food and all the volunteers who help him. The menu is simple – soup, bread, bananas, cookies and drinks. The challenge is doing it in a tent, set up on a vacant lot where everything you need has to be brought in by someone. All the soup arrives frozen in gallon bags and has to be thawed before being warmed to serving temperature. It takes a crew of several men to keep filling the warming tanks, opening the bags and emptying them into the cooking pots, then transferring the hot soup to the serving tables inside the tent. All this is done outside.

“I ski the Birkie every year just for the chicken soup,” one man tells me. I don’t believe him, but the soup is really good. Volunteers inside the tent ladle it into serving cups as fast as they can for hours. Chicken noodle soup is the favorite but there is a choice. The tomato vegetable soup was my station and it is also a good one, perhaps a bit more nutritious too. However the chick/noodle is favored two to one.

I’m guessing that the pots are filled with about seven or eight gallons of soup at a time. I emptied seven of them – I can’t even imagine how many servings that was. It helped that I was tall. Scooping into the pot is easy when it’s full but as the level goes down, it gets more difficult to reach the bottom, and messy, especially when doing it fast.

The (least favored) vegetable soup

It was cold in the tent before we started serving the first finishers. The wind would lift the tarps and blow cups and table coverings off our tables. The ground also is frozen and cold, which is why we stand on rubber mats. After we got really busy I forgot all about my feet feeling like frozen blocks of ice. Watching the people come in, young ones, elder ones, men, women from all over the world, all I could think was “why would they want to be this cold and still call it fun?”

We fed over 3,000 today, and this was the smaller of the races. Tomorrow’s crowd will be twice as many. I hope to be there again, serving up the least favored soup, just sayin’…