#4: Smith Lake

wp-1470693279926.jpgI’ve often wondered why people who name lakes can’t come up with something a little more creative than Round Lake or Smith Lake.  They probably weren’t thinking long range.  Since Smith is my maiden name I’ve asked if Smith Lake had any connection with our family  but there doesn’t seem to be, in spite of it being so close to my grandfather’s farm, just outside Hayward.  It’s a small, but beautiful lake that seems to be lined up with other small marshes, creeks and ponds.

Mom and I were due for a trip to the library and Smith Lake was in the same direction.  We made it our outing for the day’s challenge.  We drove to the small park with a boat landing and I took off the shoes, once again unprepared to actually swim.  I quickly waded in while my photographer snapped a few pics. Walking out, I  noticed a not so great smell which led me to examine the drifts of weed that had washed up on shore.  Large, black snails in great numbers were decomposing among the detritus, looking a little like a plague of some sort. We didn’t stay long.  (I’m thinking this was a temporary, seasonal thing and it wasn’t keeping others from enjoying the lake in their kayaks.)

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The snails didn’t make it into the picture.  Well, maybe a few of them did, in the foreground.

On our way home we drove by one of the marshy areas that has been a cranberry farm for years.  This area has several cranberry marshes and a neighboring town is even known for its Cranberry Festival in the fall.  Not many things grow well enough in this part of Wisconsin to provide a financially reasonable crop but cranberries come close.

#3: Boating on Round Lake

wp-1470780259001.jpgWe had a gorgeous day for this outing – clear sky, warm air and warm water.  My brother had agreed to take some teens tubing on our favorite lake.  Round Lake is a large, deep, spring fed, recreational lake about eight miles west of Hayward.  Our family farm was  only a quarter mile from Round Lake and our childhood memories are pretty much dominated by the times we spent there, swimming, skiing, fishing and boating.  It is known for it’s clear, unpolluted water.  I don’t know it’s present status but when I was younger, it was known to be clean enough to drink.

We met the kids at the boat landing and put the tubes in the water. I don’t want to say that my age is responsible, but within ten minutes of being there I had gotten my leg tangled in the tow rope and fallen down in the shallow water, clothes and all.  But, hey, I was there to get wet, right?

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These girls play hard…

The tubing was fun to watch and the kids had a great time being viciously competitive. After they learn how to hang on, the only real excitement is in knocking someone else off or flipping their tube over.  At the mid-point of the afternoon we parked the boat out in the middle and spent some time diving off the bow and swimming. It was as refreshing as any of my memories, and that is unusual since memories often take on a life of their own.

 

 

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This time I really got wet.

 

#2: Delta Diner and the White River

A couple of years ago my family started talking about trips they had made to the Delta Diner, a restaurant in a streetcar, out in the middle of the woods. I had never been there so Mom had it on the list of things I should do this visit. We got right to it – breakfast on Day 2.

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My sister-in-law MP, Mom and me, arranged in increasing size.

Since I’m mentioning breakfast, I will tell you that the Delta Diner is not just another greasy spoon place by the road.  It is a destination.  It has gotten media attention and been touted as one of the most interesting places to eat in our neck of the woods.  It is small (duh, it’s a streetcar, really) with a bar overlooking the grill, and a row of booths on either side of the door.  People wait outside on picnic tables for their seating.  We came for the breakfast menu, which also included some sandwiches and desserts.  I had been waiting to try Mom’s favorite, Norwegian pancakes with jalapeno.  I was not disappointed in them either.

In calling this “lake a day” challenge I have to explain that I have a very loose meaning of the word lake. It is any body of water, excluding mud puddles or the kitchen sink.  Today it was all about a stream called the White River.  It is small in some places but since the watershed looks really big on the map I’m sure there are some wider spots.  The place where our road crossed over was definitely not a park, but just a place where the pavement allowed us to pull over without obstructing traffic.  There was a view of the stream that was flowing swiftly into the largest culvert I have ever seen which carried the water under the road.  A canoe or kayak could easily ride through. wp-1470585404474.jpg

I was not the first person to make my way down to the water’s edge but I wouldn’t say there was a path either.  Up here in the northwoods we always have to think about poison ivy.  There is also the possibility of losing footing and sliding into the stream and I was very aware of that.  Photo credits on this day go to my brother Dennis who was handicapped by the direction the sun was hitting us.  This was another one foot dip, although the water was clear and only about four feet deep. I need to start wearing my swimsuit everywhere I go and traveling with a towel.

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The sun is bright, making me very white. One foot in the water…

A New Challenge

The experience of going “home” for a visit has several aspects. There are always interesting changes to discover, always some family or friends to connect with, always memories to refresh/rehearse.  But I often find myself wanting to make new memories and enjoy the home territory in a different way.  Isn’t it commonly the case that we don’t take the time to be tourists in the familiar places? I grew up in Hayward, Wisconsin and have visited nearly every year since moving away so it is familiar to me but I needed to have a fun way of seeing it from a new perspective.

Enter the “Lake a Day” challenge.

Northern Wisconsin, although it is not known as the “land of 10,000 lakes” like it’s neighbor Minnesota, has many of the same features. There is a lot of water.  I grew up on one of the prettiest, cleanest, most refreshing lakes in the area and knew it well, but there were many other bodies of water close by that I did not frequent. Every day I am going to find some “water” of a natural kind and get wet in it (not saying how wet, but wet somewhere).  You may travel northern Wisconsin someday and want to check out these great spots.

Day 1: Lake Superior

Lake Superior is as close to being an ocean as a lake can get. It is huge – they don’t call it one of the Great Lakes for nothing.  Unlike an ocean it is fresh water but like an ocean it is big enough for ships, dangerous storms and currents, and it has a fascinating history.

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An unplanned stop at Lake Superior – the one foot dip.

On this day my mom and I were on our way to visit a friend who lives in Duluth, Minnesota, just across the border from Superior, Wisconsin.  As we drove close to the harbor at the western tip of Lake Superior we passed a small park where there was access to the water and also a small ship offering tours to visitors. It wasn’t exactly a beach but it appeared that I might be able to reach the water so we pulled in and parked.  As I mentioned earlier, the goal was to get some part of me wet so I found a short path with no barriers and went down to stick a foot in the water.

Lake Superior has many interesting coastal towns in Minnesota and Wisconsin but about the only ones I’ve visited are Duluth/Superior and Bayfield. Madelaine Island, near Bayfield is where my brother’s family has camped for years. I have visited them at the campground there and we had an amazing time leaping into Lake Superior from some rock cliffs.  Unforgettable.

On this day we had a great time visiting with my friend at her house and at her husband’s nearby business, Lake Superior Brewery. The root beer we sampled was really good, as are their other beers. Must be the local water, right?

How to make four hours go fast…

It’s not a statement,  it’s a question. I’m all settled in at this big airport, at the place I think I’m supposed to catch the shuttle to my final destination. It doesn’t arrive for another four hours, and when it does we’ll have a three hour ride farther north. I’m tired of sitting which is about all I’ve done since leaving home at 7 this morning. 

But, it’s been a safe, uneventful flight.  Every time I dig for something in my backpack I’m enveloped in this heavenly smell of essential oil that has evidently been leaking in there somewhere. And believe me, I am so glad it’s the one that does smell heavenly rather than the one purported to smell like cat pee. Small blessings.

Growing up, I had no idea that I lived somewhere called “remote”. We seldom went anywhere farther than our 60 mile trip to get school clothes in the nearest town with a department store. But school away from home changed all that.

 And as time wore on, the girl from the north, in school down south (Texas), met a man from the east (Pennsylvania) and moved west (California), before coming back home to Wisconsin for a few years. I live in Florida and am afraid to guess what part of the U.S. is going to be next. I don’t know whether to say the world has gotten bigger or smaller. 

When I fly I look down at the land below. Although this is a very big country, it seems to be pretty full of people. All the habitable space is divided up into squares or circles with clusters of dwellings at every intersection. At night, I see towns dotting the darkness everywhere I look. During the day we fly between cities so sprawling and large that it scares me. Our ancestors could not have imagined this. And I cannot imagine the future.

I guess I’ve talked myself into being thankful for a destination that’s still three hours from a major city. It’s gotten bigger (but not much) and there’s more traffic but it is still beautifully remote and it’s home to many family members and friends, making it even more beautiful. 

Two and a half hours to go… just sayin’.

Portland Water

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from a Portland street while waiting to be hit by a bus
Morning shower

Washing over me warm

Portland’s wettest from rivers

From mountains and sky

 

Portland’s germs from

A Thousand hands sharing

And traveling Portland’s water

Making its coffee

Which I take in

 

Breathing Portland’s air

Touching its soil and

Eating its food

Watered by its rains

Food touched

By Portland hands

Washed in Portland’s water

 

City of Bridges over water

Over streets

City built by its water

Stand under its warmth

Drink in Portland

The way I always thought it should be…

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Rain on the window, gray in the sky, blossoms on the trees

Seattle in early spring is the way I imagined it before I had ever been here.  Today was cool (50’s ) and rainy, clouds rolling through. Everything green is glowing, in contrast to the grays and browns of wet rocks and trees. I am usually here during the one week in summer when there is a heat wave, so this sweet chill is a treat for me.  I am prepared for this visit with my sweatshirt hoodies and scarves, and of course my walking shoes.

I took my friend Charlie the dog for a walk on one of our favorite routes from last summer. I couldn’t stop looking at all the things that were visible through trees that hadn’t leafed out yet. Surprisingly, there are a lot of houses hanging precariously on the sides of the ravine above the park’s lower trail. I did not know they were so close. In spite of the cold, there are flowers coming out all over, and they are different from the ones in the summer or fall. And the lush moss grows everywhere. 20160327_103349.jpg20160326_151859.jpg

We walked up to the top of the ridge over Alki Beach (what a workout, gasp..) and I was glad to be here, grateful to be seeing it all. I couldn’t help wishing that my friend Karyn who followed my stories last summer was still here to read again. I was grateful that it was a day when resurrection, physical resurrection, was on my mind. As unexplainable as it sounds to modern ears, a man came back to life never to die again.  Because he did this miraculous thing, Karyn will too. This is not a hard thing for me to believe, because I see life coming out of what looks dead all around me.  It’s right there in front of us, if we have eyes to see and hearts willing to consider.

Thanking Jesus for doing what he did – the first of many.

Good Times and Bad Times in the Air

This sunset was so awesome. I couldn't stop taking pictures of it.
This sunset was so awesome. I couldn’t stop taking pictures of it.

I will start with the good time.  While in Seattle I got to visit the Columbia Building with daughter Esther.  This qualified as an adventure up in the air because I actually saw airplanes going toward SeaTac on about our level.  It was above the Space Needle and every other high building in the city, actually made all the rest look small.  What a great view of the city, the harbor and the surrounding geography!  We had a special invite to happy hour at the Tower Club – thank you Duncan – and it was a great experience.  To relax with some great food and drink and conversation, all the while getting to look at this.

I mean it, I couldn't stop.
I mean it, I couldn’t stop.
I did not stop.
I did not stop.

The appetizers we shared were large enough to serve as our meal.  We had lemon risotto, garlic mashed potatoes with buerre blanc and asparagus on one plate and quinoa with roasted tomatoes, glazed carrots and squash with kale and herb sauce on the other. Delicious.  Duncan was very creative with the drink he made Esther, using rhubarb liqueur and egg white.  He is the lead bartender at the Tower Club and did such a great job of making us feel welcome.  His parting advice to us was to make sure we visited the Ladies Room (even he had been there).  And the pics will show you why…

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This was so, so good!
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As was this!

Yeah, this was the Ladies Room view.
Yeah, this was the Ladies Room view.
I couldn't resist the mirror shot...
I couldn’t resist the mirror shot…

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Don’t you love this sunset?!
The flight home from Seattle was the bad time up in the air.  I won’t mention the airline because I don’t think it was their fault.  It was a “red eye” flight.  I was tired and wanted to sleep.  I had a middle seat between two strangers and as I usually do I said a few words just to let them know they had permission to speak with me if they wanted to.  I got a one word answer from one of them and that was the only exchange for the rest of the flight.  We all wanted to sleep, including the people in front of us who promptly reclined their seats.  I mention this because once that seat back was reclined I found I could no longer reach my bag which was at my feet.  My arms weren’t long enough.  And this became problematic when around 3 am I got a headache that made my whole face hurt and needed some headache relief medicine from my bag.  And to make things worse, it was really warm in the cabin.  I don’t know if they did that on purpose or maybe I just worked up a sweat trying to get my bag without lying my head down in someone’s lap.  Crashing headache, claustrophobia, heat wave and a developing nausea – perfect conditions for sleeping.  I was so glad to get off that plane, 5 hours later in Atlanta.

I took a couple Excedrin and started to feel the pain go away on the second flight, but by then I was having headache hallucinations – thinking I was eating my airplane snack while I was really sleeping.  It was very strange.  But now at home and after a good nap, I feel none the worse for the experience.  Travel, you never know what’s going to be next.  Just saying’…

Been up in the air a lot lately...
Been up in the air a lot lately…

A Different Kind of R & R

It often means rest and relaxation to others. Not to me. I can’t even rest and relax when I’m asleep.  My R&R is responding to randomness.

Randomness has a couple definitions, some of which I apply to my life and some, not so much.  The one I like is “random is often used neutrally to describe that which is done or occurs by chance but also suggests that one is receptive to the possibilities of the unexpected”.  I often have to make decisions about going places and doing things that are not my usual routine. Truth is, I don’t know what my usual routine is anymore.   Something unexpected is always happening, it seems, and those are the things to which I love to respond.

I have four younger brothers and a couple weeks ago the oldest of them called.  He lives in the same state as I do, but it’s been years since we devoted much time to each other.  We are more often at family gatherings with crowds of other people to divide our attention.

“How would you like to help me drive up to Wisconsin?  I’m taking a truck and trailer up to get some equipment and I thought it would be a time for us to get in a good talk.” I had to agree that 30 hours of drive time would amount to a pretty good talk.

In my mind I’m tallying up the things I would need to reschedule or back out of.  “Well sure, I think I could do that but let me have a day or so to work on it. I’ll let you know.”

Road trip!!!

And that’s how things get started.  After telling several people what I was considering doing I had to call him back to find out why we were doing this in the middle of winter, trying to get up and back between blizzards.  Also, was I actually going to be asked to drive the truck with the 30 foot trailer or was I just going along to keep him from falling asleep?

The truth is, I love family adventures more than any other kind.  Should I not take any opportunity to get to know these people with whom I share genetic material? And how better to get to know them than to actually be doing something with them?  Appalachian hikes, trail rides on horseback across Florida, camping across the country and picnicking at 12,000 feet  in the Rockies, cruising with everyone for a 50th anniversary – all these things started with a somewhat unexpected idea, to be rejected or embraced. Thankfully, most of my family is of the “bring it on” nature.

My randomness is by no means purposeless or unplanned.  Just unexpected.  In fact, planning and anticipating is at least half of every adventure for me.  Sometimes it takes weeks, and other times it gets pulled together in hours.  There’s a lot of variety.  Because of all this I have actually forgotten how to be bored, well, almost.  The brother I planned on starting the trip with tomorrow morning has already called to delay our departure because of unforeseen circumstances BUT it wouldn’t surprise me at all if he showed up at the door, ready to go tomorrow morning.

There are really two reasons this lifestyle works for me.  One is that I do need a lot of variety, whether at work or at play. I have very few routines and don’t do them very consistently. I love surprise!

The other reason is that I don’t claim to have control over my circumstances, so it never disappoints me when I don’t.  Those circumstances are in the hands of God, whom I look to kind of like a writer and director of a big story, and the only one who has read the whole script.  When I get up in the morning, I’m not always sure where my part is going to be played out but I know the director is going to direct me.  After all, he’s given me a part in the story because he wants me there.  What seems random to me is in no way random to him.  He is the ultimate planner and takes care of all the details.  I just have to respond and follow directions. There is a lot of peacefulness and freedom to have fun in that.  And sometime tomorrow I will probably be having fun, somewhere on I-75, talking with my brother.  Just sayin’…

My four brothers lined up in back.  On the left is the eldest one with whom I will soon be reacquainted.
My four brothers lined up in back. On the left is the eldest one with whom I will soon be reacquainted.

Thanksgiving Day

 

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Today is a thanksgiving holiday for me.  I’m just taking a day off after two weeks and several thousand miles of travel to be thankful for making it there and back once again. I have “that thought” every time I leave home that I might not be back again, ever.  I’m not upset or overly morbid about it – it’s more a realization that there is no promise of longevity or a trouble free life given to anyone. Stuff happens, no matter how careful you are.Read More »