Lake a Day Challenge: Spider Lake

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A spider is probably not anyone’s favorite image to attach to a memory or a place, but when you grow up calling a place Spider Lake, you eventually quit thinking about real spiders and just think about the lake.  This lake is really a chain of lakes, four to be exact, connected by short rivers.  For many years one of my cousins has owned the Spider Lake Golf Club and Resort and it was only recently I learned that it is actually located on Clear Lake in the Spider Lake chain.  Big Spider (ugh!), Little Spider and North Lake make up the other three.

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Me and Spider Lake in rustic setting

My visit this summer was prompted in part by a reunion of my cousin’s family, as well as my own. This was the day we met at Spider Lake Golf Club for a wonderful dinner cooked on the grill and lots of family fellowship.  Cousins from as far away as Alaska and Florida (me) got reacquainted with each other, and fed mosquitoes. It seems the mosquitoes are a force to be reckoned with everywhere near the water or woods in Wisconsin. The young people hunted frogs, played catch and got underfoot. The rest of us visited and ate.  It’s kind of a standard theme among us. Always have food.

One of the most interesting activities at our gathering was making an African Praise Poem about mom.  Mom is one of three surviving siblings in her family of seven and a favorite among all the cousins.  After dinner we “poets” and mom talked together about the important events of mom’s life and the memories we had surrounding those times. There were tears. All these recollections were recorded and will be arranged, poetically and mysteriously, in the form of the African Praise Poem. We’ll all get to see it when daughter Esther puts the finishing touches on it. We asked mom how it felt to be the subject of an interactive poem like this and she admitted that it felt a little like being at her own memorial service, but not a bad thing overall.

I think Spider Lake is known for being a good fishing lake, and there are resorts and cabins available there still. It was a beautiful day, and a beautiful lake.

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Poet and photographerfor this shoot, my daughter Esther
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Possibly the oldest, my Uncle Wendell (with two l’s) and the youngest, Hazel Erikson.
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Frog hunting
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Family, food, fun.

#5: Lake Hayward

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It’s not just about the lakes here in northern Wisconsin. It’s about the whole outdoors experience. Part of it, for those of us who grew up here, is berry picking. I’m talking about serious berry picking, where you gear up with two layers of pants, long sleeves, a belt to hang your berry bucket on, head protection against the deer flies, lots of bug repellant and your sixth sense of where not to go, where not to step, what not to touch.

We went berry picking this morning because my brother had reported seeing bountiful berry patches on our farmland near Round Lake. He had been cutting trails in the overgrown woods and fields with his flail mower (he does this for fun, yeah???) and wanted to take us out in his Kubota tractor to where we could just stand in the trail and pick all the blackberries we wanted. Sounded good. We went early because of forecasted severe weather coming our way.

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Beautiful fruit. Wicked, brutal thorns.

Mom and I drove out to the field/woods in her SUV and met my brother and his wife. We were startled by a graceful buck deer that ran across our path. We were also aware that there were bear in the area, as seen on my brother’s woods cam, but thankfully we didn’t flush any of them out this time. We also saw large flocks of Canada geese and several sandhill cranes in the harvested oat field we drove through. After hunting for a while we did find what we were really looking for, berries, hiding amidst the goldenrod and pines. Unfortunately, the storm found us and we had to cut our picking short. But now we know where they are, and we’re not telling.

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Goldenrod. I’ve never seen so much of it in one place.

Today’s lake is Lake Hayward, which is formed by a dam on the Namekagon right in the town of Hayward. Here the town has its beach park and I remember many picnics and swims in this spot. I remember it being a lot larger than it really is, oh well. It is close to another Hayward landmark, the “big fish”.  Hayward being the Musky Capital of the World someone had to build a giant muskelunge for tourists to get the full experience.  If you want to, you can climb the stairs and view the town from the fish’s mouth, something you don’t get to do everyday.  Today’s photo credit goes to Mom who accompanied me. wp-1470860401413.jpg

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Both feet wet in Lake Hayward, holding lilypad.
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The mouth of the fish (nightmare material, maybe)
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And the tail, with a person in the picture for perspective. It’s big. 

#5: Namekagon River

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Hayward started as a logging town in a river valley. The river was and is the Namekagon, now part of the St. Croix National Scenic Waterway. It’s about 100 miles long and has its name from the Ojibwe Indian word for “river at the place abundant with sturgeons”. The lumberjacks used the river to float logs down to the mills for processing, which of course is no longer necessary since we have roads and trucks. All that’s left of this part of history is the logrolling competitions and that championship contest is usually held in Hayward.

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a great use for old railroad beds

My trek to the Namekagon started at Par Place Condominiums where I am staying. These condos are built on the “used to be RoyNona Golf Course” which is also the “used to be Roy Smith farm”. Roy Smith was my grandfather.  The river is fairly close to the farm/golf course/condos, so my sister-in-law MP and I decided to bike there.  Our route started down a trail on an old railroad bed.  I actually remember when trains ran the tracks there and the engineer would wave to me and blow the train whistle.  It hurts to say this.

These trails are all over the Hayward area and are used by snowmobiles and skiiers in the winter, bikes and hikers and ATV’s in the summer. The trails circling the town are paved, unlike this one, which is unpaved,peaceful and straight, lined with goldenrod and blackberry bushes. The breeze rattles the leaves on the poplar trees so there is a steady, soft white noise which belies all the motion you see when you glance at them. About half a mile on the trail brought us to Airport Road (another creative place name). Another half mile and we were at a small park on the river, across the road from the small, mostly private airport.

wp-1470862537949.jpgWe parked our bikes and walked down to the boat landing. The Namekagon is a great river for canoeing, kayaking,  tubing and fishing, although I do not vouch for the fishing part. I have done the other three. There has been a lot of rain this summer, and even some flooding, so the river is high and swift. There are a few white water places but a great deal of it is like this picture – tranquil appearing. Any time we do a river trip we see wildlife, eagles, deer, otters, and bear.  And wildflowers are everywhere. Floating down the Namekagon is one of my favorite things to do.

Another one foot dip. The water was cool and the mosquitoes were fierce so we didn’t stay long. wp-1470862505619.jpg

#4: Smith Lake

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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

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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

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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

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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…

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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’.

Sand in My Food

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Neither one of these guys are out here by choice, BUT THEY WILL ENJOY!

Earlier this week was the birthday of one of my good friends, a regular blog reader and quirky commenter,  JC Barnhill. The town we live in is coastal, on the Gulf of Mexico, but since he is a “farmer” and horse trainer the beach might as well be several states away. He never goes there for fun, unless I take him.  This is the third time we’ve celebrated his advancing years out by the ocean.

Going to the beach is always a mixed bag experience.  There’s no denying it’s a beautiful place geographically and I appreciate that about it, but even I don’t go there to be comfortable. It’s hot out there, and bright, with way too many people dressed to leave nothing to the imagination. Taking food out there makes it even more of an adventure. Here’s my quick list for an “exotic” supper at the beach.

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JC, having a little sand with his chicken and biscuit. To him, beach attire means sunglasses and a hat.
  1. Do not work all afternoon making delicious things. They never taste as good with sand in them. Save that kind of food for home. And don’t think you’re going to find a grill and cook food. Buy Kentucky Fried Chicken in a protected bucket that can be closed quickly.
  2. It’s good to have cold drinks, especially like now in July, but no matter how hot it is, bring coffee and Half n Half. If Barnhill is along, bring sugar. And cookies.  The things you eat last will be what you remember most.
  3. Park as close as you possibly can to whatever beach view you want to enjoy. It helps when all you have to do is open your car trunk and set up your chairs.  No long trek across the sand.
  4. Don’t let the birds see your food. Don’t let them see you eating.
  5. Don’t take napkins unless you plan to decorate the beach with them. A roll of paper towels is what you need, and a garbage bag. Put some sand in it to weight it down.
  6. Keep track of your car keys.
  7. At the very least, go down and touch the water. It’s required.

I thought we would stay for the sunset and get some spectacular photos but instead we got to see an enormous storm bank roll in with some hair raising lightning strikes. Tip #3 above was such a good idea.

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.From day to dark in very short order

So JC, you can rest easy now that this year’s beach outing is over. And next year, I don’t care how white your legs are, you need to wear some shorts. And maybe get wet in the ocean. Happy 83rd!

Cleaning Your Room

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I helped you clean your room

Not because it was a toxic death trap

But because I knew we might find something,

Something you’d been looking for.

And we would laugh at the candy wrappers, the moldy apple,

The discarded clothing, the random bits of paper with

Life scribbled on them, anguished life, raw life, devotion, angst

And dreams, scribbled on bits of paper.

 

I helped you clean your room

Because the hours spent with you were precious.

We talked and small traces of order would appear,

small traces of calm and pleasure, even though we knew

they were temporary. Your room, your life was meant

to be lived in, sometimes messy,  sometimes organized but

always uniquely your room,  your life.  And I was

always happy when you let me sit there with you. Always.

 

I helped you clean your room

And it was with the same strategy used in cleaning

My own room with its messes and secrets and disorganization.

My room never stayed clean either, but I always enjoyed making

It different.  I could always make a difference,  move the furniture,  clear the floor,

And feel fresh and renewed.   A messy room was just an opportunity, not an indictment.

I perhaps never told you these things, but I want you to know why

I helped you clean your room.

(A reflection on possible messages of shame, unwittingly communicated, deeply regretted)