Day in the Life of an Idiot

If I’m writing about my adventures a day behind, I should probably make a short list of the things I’ve read to start with. I finished listening to Blood Ink Sister Scribe last night. I will admit that I got a little bogged down in the middle of the book, re-read Trouble and Her Friends (for an up-coming podcast,) and then listened to the second half of it. While I’ve been up here, Martha Well’s Network Effect came up for grabs as an audiobook, so I downloaded that during one of my daily treks to the lodge for internet.

Yesterday started with a nice canoe trip around part of the lake. Shawn and I like to get up early, around 6:30 or 7 am, and do a near-silent drift along the lake. It often pays off in terms of animal sightings. Yesterday we had our first truly sunny morning, and we saw (we counted) ten turtles in various spots sunning themselves on logs. On our return trip, we got the piece d’resistance: a river otter! The river otter was actually in the lake with us and bobbed up a couple of times (almost like trying to stand in the water) to try to decide if we were a danger or not and then disappeared under the water.

Super cool!

It was pretty darned magical, even though at that point in the trip around the lake we were fighting a chilly headwind so strong that if we stopped paddling the canoe would start to go sideways.

Almost immediately after making landfall, Mason and I hopped in the car and headed off to nearby Judge C. R. Magney State Park to revisit Devil’s Kettle.

Shawn elected to stay behind. Her knee, which has been performing like an absolute champ this trip, has been getting stiff and sore after canoe rides. She bends very well for someone who is really only about six months out of knee surgery but getting in and out of the canoe from the dock is more of a challenge. The idea of doing all those stairs down—and then back up again—to see the first set of falls felt like a bad idea to her. I don’t blame her, but we still felt sad leaving her behind even though she said it was okay.

Mason and I have been to this state park before, four years ago, but I was not yet a member of either the Passport or the Minnesota State Parks and Trails Hiking Club. I brought my state park passport along and got my stamp!


Image: passport stamp


I was glad Shawn did not come once we started the hike. I’m here to tell you that being fat and asthmatic is no real barrier (so long as you have your inhaler, are generally mobile, and are willing to take it slowly,) but I do not think Shawn’s knee would have survived the uneven, sloped parts of the trail, NEVERMIND the stairs.

Speaking of being fat, I did have at least one stranger feel free to tell me that I was “doing great, honey!” But you know what? I was! So, I decided to ignore the fairly pointed assumption about my general health based on my size, and said, “Thanks! You, too!”

The effort is always worth it, however:



Image: famous Devil's Kettle.

If you have never heard of Devil's Kettle before and why it's so fascinating, feel free to read this article about the mysterious kettle that takes water in but maybe sends it straight to hell... https://www.treehugger.com/the-mystery-of-devils-kettle-falls-4863996



Mason and I had a lovely hike back down. I’d swear, actually, that I took the stairs back up much faster this year than I did four years ago. This is not to say that we didn’t pause on any of the landings that are on offer, but I made very steady progress and never felt like my heart was pounding out of my chest or any of that. I honestly think it helped that the weather has been quite cool up here, so while I worked up a sweat, it never felt overwhelming. TMI? But I’m kind of proud of myself, I guess? Especially after that lady’s “encouragement.”

On our way back to Gunflint Trail and the Lodge, Mason and I stopped in Grand Marais for lunch. This trip is a gift to Mason for graduating from university and so I let him pick the place. We stopped at Angry Trout to have fish sandwiches and an incredible view of the marina, if you can call it such, on Lake Superior.


Image: Mason contemplating the menu at Angry Trout.

The drive back was uneventful and we spent much of the rest of the evening sitting on the dock staring out at the lake (or reading.) We have new “neighbors” in cabin two. They are two old duffers who are here for a guy’s weekend of fishing and catching up. Shawn, who was here all day, talked to them a bit. One of them is from the Twin Cities (Oakdale or somewhere like that) and the other is previously from the area, but has since moved to Arizona. He told us he left nearly 100 F / C temps. We made the classic joke about having brought the sun with him, since this was one of the first non-rainy days.

Normally, we don’t interact much with the other cabins, but the forestry service has done a lot of fire maintenance around the lodge and so all of the underbrush is gone, chopped down. It looks little denuded, and apocalypse-y and it also means you see more people coming in out of cabins from further away and have to make the tough Minnesota decision: “Do I wave? Do I have to wave? Oh crap, we made eye contact, I will lift my hand and wave. Oh, god, this is awkward, how long do I wave?” And, yes, I’m actually the family’s extrovert. But I’m also very aware that most people in Minnesota do not actually want to have to talk to strangers, especially when they are “up nort” on a fishing trip with their old college buddy.

More wildflowers!


Wild sasperilla?


Image: blue flower of some variety??

Image: Me and Dee Dee, the greyhound, checking out Crooked Lake in Siren, WI.

I have a BAD case of vacation hangover. I feel both panicked and super behind on all the things I need to do and completely disinterested in doing any of them.  I just want to swim in the lake!  

This weekend was so lovely. And, despite the hard anniversary that I posted about, we managed to have an amazing time. It was hot enough that we spent a lot of hours in the lake (or on it, on the pontoon boat.) And I forget how much I enjoy swimming until I'm swimming. I really should make more use of the lakes and public swimming places around here.

Crooked Lake is very much a resort lake, so it wasn't exactly a retreat into the deep woods, but our friends are so generous with their space and time and it was incredibly relaxing and well-needed. It was still surprisingly quiet up there. We were awoken every morning by the song on the loons. Shawn even managed to be greeted by a river otter on one of her morning shore strolls!

We discovered a lesbian-run coffee shop, which I highly recommend if you're ever in the area. Crosshatch Coffee. Their Cuban latte is TO DIE FOR, but the place also has an amazing atmosphere in general. But, Siren is such a tourist town that the coffee shop is only open Fri-Sun, 6 am - 3 pm. 

Now, I'm back to writing the novel, prepping for my asynchronous class, and... life. I'm missing Gerriann's dishwasher and vacation standard time where life's little chores are for later.... 

SIGH.

How about y'all. Anything fun happen this weekend? 

Let's dispense with the advertising first.

TONIGHT (Tuesday, February 18) from 8pm to 10pm, I will be reading erotica at the Strike Theater (824 18th Avenue NE, Minneapolis, 55413) as part of the Not-So-Silent Planet reading series.

TOMORROW NIGHT (Wednesday, February 19) starting at 6:30 pm I will be reading from my upcoming novel at Dreamhaven Books and Comics (2301 E 38th St, Minneapolis, MN 55406) as part of the Speculation reading series.

Short notice, but please come? 

I will tell you that the last time I did a Not-So-Silent Planet reading, it was kind of a blast. There was tentacle porn (not mine) and so many other amazing performers.... and my reading involved audience participation, so, there was that. I actually am trying to figure out what to read tonight? I'm expected to fill 8 - 10 minutes and having polled my fellow readers, it sounds as though people are mostly going towards "middle-of-the-road" so no full-on graphic stuff, I'm guessing (unless I want to break the mold, and... yeah, no.)

The obvious choice is the opening of Unjust Cause with it's pan-to-the-left dragon sex scene.  But, I read that last year and will DEFINITELY be reading it at Dreamhaven... so I'm thinking about digging up (pun intended?) some of my previous vampire sex and seeing if any of that would work for tonight. I feel like the first time Garnet and Sebastian go at it, it's pretty decent?  I'll have to look.

So, that's me, tonight. It's going to be kind of crazy, logistically, since Mason has his college class tonight until 7 pm. But, I don't believe I'm going on at 8:00 sharp, so I should be okay to arrive whenever I get there. 

In other news, we just got back last night from our friends' cabin in Siren, Wisconsin. As I told people, when the temperatures drop, OF COURSE you head north, right??  This was the first time we stayed with them in the winter and it was lovely. Lots of sitting under blankets reading and relaxing. We played board games and did a lot of cooking together.... which was just wonderful. Ger and Barb are such good people. Very easy to be with.  We stopped at the cheese factory both there and back again, which means we have a fridge full of squeaky cheese and fresh cheese blocks of all variety.  

The best moment was getting to see the eagle eating a fish out on the lake, just feet from the cabin.  Amazing.

While at Bearskin, we woke up one morning feeling adventurous, so we decided to take an actual honest-to-goodness hike into the BWCA. We asked at the front desk and Bob, bless his soul, took a look at us and said, "FOR YOU, I suggest Caribou Rock...."

For us, it turned out because there were spectacular views within a mile or so of the trailhead. We could go as far as we liked (the whole of the trail apparently takes you to the border and can be done as a 4 day hiking trip,) but there was a very fast (if moderately challenging in terms of steepness) reward for people LIKE US who were amateur hikers who just wanted to see some woodsy stuff.

Here's the view:


We also attempted a camera-timer "selfie":



I should take a moment to discuss the mosquito situation. The mosquitos were out in full-force nearly the entire time we were there (on the dock and in the canoe, however, we'd often get a reprieve because of the wind.) Some days were buggier than others, though. The day right before the one day of rain we got was, by far, the worst.

What I found interesting about the mosquitos is that they clearly favored Mason. There may be a couple of reasons for this. First, he's always been very warm-bodied. We often call him our hot-tot, because if you snuggle up to him, he seems to radiate heat. So the mosquitos probably could sense that and made a... well, not a bee-line, but a mosquito-line for him.

They seemed equally attracted to Shawn, however, and she is one of those people who sometimes, when you hold their hand, you think, "Wow, your skin is so chilly!"

Mosquitos mostly avoided me. We wondered aloud about this phenomenon a lot during our vacation. (Mostly because it made Mason mad. "Why don't they go after YOU, Ima?!??") We eventually concluded that the reason the mosquitos liked me the least was because of my sushi habit. I east sushi fairly regularly for lunch and I know for a fact that consumption of raw fish changes your body odor. So, it very well could have been that the mosquitos just didn't register me as tasty. Or at least a second choice to the more strictly carnivores in my family (because I also have a tendency to eat a lot more veggies than either Shawn or Mason.)

This time Bearskin also offered a number of kids' activities. Normally, we're not joiners, but Mason saw the list and wanted to try out slack lining, so we went to the demo. The demo was led by Andrea. We kept running into Andrea though out our stay. She seemed to be the children's events coordinator, but she was also the only one to introduce herself to us when we went to the wine and cheese mixer. (At which we tried Gunflint Trail wine and had... Colby and cheddar cheese. Not a fancy do, but very... erm, authentically "Fargo" if you know what I mean.)

At any rate, here's Mason on the slack line with Andrea and I spotting:



I even tried it, but you know, with me on the line, it dipped pretty close to the ground....

And this was the day that the mosquitos were at their absolute WORST. So we stayed long enough to enjoy it, but were eventually driven away and back out into the canoe to escape the bloodthirsty hoards.

The mosquitos also chased us away from our beloved "Moose Viewing Trail," where last time we were up we actually saw several moose. This time not only did the mosquitos dog us the whole way to the marsh and back, but there was really nothing to see there once we got there. Except, of course, the mysterious buried car...

This year, apparently, we didn't take a photo of the weird car in the woods, but it is there. It's very mysterious, being several miles off the road, and, well, having a boulder in the trunk. But you can clearly see the roof, the engine block and actually pull on the door handle which is fully-buried in the ground. (Which is also odd, because it kind of seems.., off, like maybe somehow the car was dropped with enough force to have bent the doors so that they lay parallel to the ground.... as if dropped by... aliens???)

Very mysterious.

We probably didn't get a picture because all you would have seen was the massive swarm of mosquitos....

In other news, my Loft class has ended and I'm reading no.6 a new manga I discovered on Saturday, when I worked at the Maplewood Library. I've written a review which I'll probably link back here once I get it up.

And.... here's the review: http://mangakast.wordpress.com/2014/06/23/review-no-6/

It's Tuesday already, and I leave for WorldCON on Thursday.  I can feel the panic-mode beginning to rev up.  At least we had a lovely, relaxing weekend up at our friends' cabin.


You can't tell from this picture, but the water was actually very cold.  Even so, we braved it nearly every day, except Saturday when it was so cloudy that the entire family (including Mason!) crashed out for a long afternoon nap.  We stayed Monday, an extra day, which was nice, as it was very sunny.  In fact, I managed to get a bit of a sunburn on my face. 

We chased some leopard frogs around, but never caught any. 

Mason and I went kiyaking twice, both times he insisted on bringing along a book:


I don't care what you say, I think this means we're raising him RIGHT.  :-)

Okay, now I'm off to the kitty food store because my poor babies gobbled up everything in sight and Mother Hubbard's cupboards are bare.  I think if I don't go soon, my toes will be omnommed. (Hmm, never considered if nom verbized would have two "m"s or just one.  Is there a standard out there?)

We're headed home later today, but I thought I'd say "hello" from the shores of Crooked Lake in Wisconsin. The weather (a chilly 66 degrees F) actually pushed me back indoors momentarily, but earlier today I sat outside listening to the loons call out over the water.

It's been the kind of vacation my family and I have needed. It's been really nice not to have anything to do, but float in the lake on a noodle. Mason and I discovered that you can blow a lot of water out the noodles and played noodle water wars for two days until he actually developed chapped lips from all the blowing. After that, we had to switch to underwater kung-fu, which is pretty much what it sounds like. Before each fight we'd say, "The only rule is that there are no rules! (Oh, except no kicking the snorkle and no drowning.)" Or sometimes we'd quote a home/art movie that our head instructor made in college, ie, "What does a man do when he's been humiliated by a pipe cleaner? He. Gets. EVEN!"

So we've had much fun. Plus, Crooked Lake has never been higher thanks to all the rain. We've seen frogs and fish and toads (in the garden) in numbers never spotted before. When the weather was roastier we managed to get quite sunburned.

It's been ideal.

Wish you were here.

Just as we had on the way up, we made the trip home an adventure all its own. I was in full-on lavender-dad mode* -- including making us make a few u-turns when we missed our turn-offs. However, with one exception all our side trips were worth it.

The first stop was a short jaunt up Highway 1 off 61 to see Illgen Falls, made slightly longer by the fact that our guide book 61 GEMS ON HIGHWAY 61 noted we were to turn left just after the sign that read “Devil’s Rock,” but neglected to mention that the sign was _tiny_ and really easy to miss. We sailed right by it, but luckily the book also said we were to have seen it after only 1.5 miles. Even though I hadn’t watched my odometer, it was clear we’d gone much further since we entered Finland (the town, not the country, but cue jokes about being REALLY lost right about now.)

Shawn “Eagle Eye” Rounds spotted the tiny marker the second time we passed it and another set of u-turns got us into the pull-off. We had a brief argument about whether or not we could actually park in the no parking spot by the locked fence marked “State Park.” But Shawn suggested, and I think rightly so, that the pull-out was a better spot. It was clearly the right choice when we noticed the trail right next to where we finally parked.

The guide book promised that the trail was narrow and steep, but short. Turns out they weren’t kidding about the steep part. If we hadn’t come to a set of man-made stairs, I would have believed that the whole thing was just a deer trail that people had used on occasion. The trail got us out at the top of the falls.



A bit of scrambling, and we got the money shot. The best part was that the guide book was right. It was impressive as hell. The picture they shot was during a drought, so I wasn’t prepared for this:



Satisfied that the little spat of arguing and getting lost was totally worth it, we all climbed back into the car and set off for our next destination, Iona’s Beach. The reason I wanted to see this beach is because the book said that if, conditions were right, the sound of the waves hitting this unique shoreline of flat, shingle-like “pink rhyolite and felsite bedrock” makes a tinkling, bell-like sound. It’s also designated a scientific research area, which just added a whole extra level of potential awesome, I thought.

Here, the guide book out and out LIED. It said that turn off to the beach was clearly marked near mile marker 42. We zoomed past mile marker 42 because all that was well marked was a sign saying “public water access” which is a dime a dozen along the North Shore Drive. We made yet another u-turn and pulled into the lot, where more confusion set in. We parked. We looked over at a beach and a breakwall. The beach was clearly marked, “Private Property, Enter at Your Own Risk.” Hmmm, not the friendly, inviting beach the guide book suggested we’d see. Plus, it was decidedly not pink, which was supposed to be one of the more striking features of Iona’s Beach.

We looked around. There was a path leading north, and Shawn remembered reading something about a short hike to the beach. Okay, what the hell, we thought. After all, Illgen Falls seemed hard to find, but had panned out as well worth the hassle.

A short walk revealed a rather stunning beach. There was a rock formation that looked, well, fake, and Shawn suggested that it might be lava flow (which we knew from our other reading was a definite possibility along the North Shore.) This, however, still didn’t seem right. Could this be Iona’s Beach? Where were the pink rocks? The magical sound of the waves hitting rock? This was a seriously awesome beach, but I wasn’t convinced this was Iona’s.



Shawn and Mason were quite content to explore. I was, as previously mentioned, in Adventure Mode, and so was on a quest to find THE BEACH (fill in “lavender farm” or other ridiculous sounding destination.) I noticed that the path continued, and that there appeared to be a sign post at the top of the nearby cliff. I yelled that I was off to investigate. Sure enough, here, quite a distance from the pull off was the “well marked” sign indicating that just beyond was the famed Iona’s Beach.

It’s definitely weird. I’ve never seen a beach quite like it, what with gigantic dunes of perfectly flat blue, green and pink stones. But, was it worth the hassle of discovery? Iffy. When Shawn and Mason joined me, Mason enjoyed tossing the rocks back into the water, but the lake couldn’t have been more glassy and still, so there was no tinkling or magical bell-like sound to hear. But, we also explored a nearby cavern carved by the waves, which, when we tossed rocks down it, made a FANTASTIC splooshing sound. In the end, as Shawn noted later in the car, the first beach was way more interesting. Iona’s Beach seemed desolate and alien in comparison.



Our next big destination was food. When we finally stopped at a fast food joint and filled up the car at the gas station, I remarked that we’d gone approximately 100 miles in four hours. And, we skipped stopping at Flood Bay again, though very regretfully. We’re going to make that part of our annual trip, however. Unsuccessful agate hunting is much more fun for us, and, really, a bit more Mai Tai,* as it’s very relaxing.

With all the driving and side-trips, I was exhausted by the time we got home. I’ve been slowly recovering ever since. The time at the lake was very relaxing, but I need a vacation from the drive back! I don’t regret making the stops along the way, but I think it was more fun on the way up because once we got to the cabin, it was relaxation time. On the way home, we came back to unpacking, unopened mail, etc., etc.

I can’t wait to do it all again next year. We already booked our cabin for next season.

------------
*see earlier post (part 2) for explanation.

Even though I’ve lived in Minnesota for twenty-odd years now, I’ve never been “up north” past the Iron Range. Well, I guess I went somewhere close to the BWCA once before with a friend from high school, because I have a very strong memory of flocks of seagulls in Grand Marais. But, like a lot of high school, that memory is utterly wiped from my mind. (Side note: if I knew you in high school, even if we were BFFs, I wouldn’t recognize you now if my life depended on it. Apparently, to make room for other things deemed more important like episodes of “Firefly,” my brain dumped high school in its entirety. Thank goodness I kept a daily diary. Of course, looking back on it is like trying to read code. Who? What? Wait, I dated _boys!?_)

Eh-hem, back to the story at hand.

As most of you already know, I will not be going to WisCON this year. Instead, we came here. Here is the Bearskin Lodge off the Gunflint Trail as you head into the BWCA. Not in the BWCA, but close. We could canoe there if we had to, but we don’t have to. You see, Shawn is not fond of the kind of camping that involves tents or bugs or sleeping bags or pooping in the woods. I will admit that while I enjoy the occasional waking-up-with-frost-on-your-hair kind of trips, there is something to be said for a hot shower and a flush toilet.

Because I don’t remember my last trip this far north, we decided to take it easy and sort of spend the day meandering toward the lodge. Shawn picked up a book called 61 GEMS ON HIGHWAY 61 by Kathryn & William Mayo at the History Center, and read to me on the long drive up 35. From it, we picked a couple of destinations. The first was Two Harbor’s Breakwall. It’s just what it purports to be – a big, old wall into the harbor that protects the docks from the waves of Lake Superior. You can walk out to the point, where there is a small, electric lighthouse. Mason was a little nervous because there’s only a railing on one side, and the lake looks like the ocean. You can only see blue-black water to the horizon line, and the day we were there it was overcast and windy. It was easy to pretend we were old sea hands coming to shore from one of the big ocean-going vessels we saw unloading at the huge docks.

The second place we stopped at was a favorite and has been earmarked for a second visit on the return home, Flood Bay. Flood Bay is supposed to be good agate hunting, but we didn’t find any -- at least not that we could easily identify. I did find the lake version of sea glass, which THE ROCK PICKER’S GUIDE TO LAKE SUPERIOR’S NORTH SHORE (by Mark Sparky Stensaas) calls fairy tears. I couldn’t really tell you what was so awesome about Flood Bay, but we spent a good hour there hanging out and combing the beach. Mason splashed about in the ice cold water of Lake Superior and chased the waves back and forth. I found a magical rock that had a hole all the way through, worn away naturally by time and water.

We got to the lodge at 5:00 pm, just in time to pack, check out the place, and make hot dogs for dinner. Staying here is less expensive per night than in the Governor’s Suite at the Concord, and we have our own private dock, a full kitchen, two bedrooms, and a fireplace (not to mention that indoor plumbing!) Because we came up at the end of the cheap season, we also got a free canoe rental with the lodge.

Bearskin Lake is huge. The lodge is at one corner of it, but Mason and I kayaked today for a good hour and didn’t even make very far on the map. What’s cool is that unlike most of the lakes we frequent, you get out for a bit and suddenly there’s no sign of human habitation. AT ALL. In fact, on our big trip today (Sunday), I accidentally freaked Mason out by noting how easy it would be to get lost and end up in Canada (you couldn’t really, not without an intentional portage or two, I believe.) At any rate, I suspect the reason he actually got worried is because landmarks are hard to come by up here. It’s just woods and more woods.

Anyway, on the drive in that first night, we saw a sign that said “Moose View Trail.” We noted that we should come back in the morning and look for moose. So, on Saturday morning, after waking up at dawn --(damn birds! I thought they were an alarm going off! Seriously!)-- and checking out the frost on the dock, we headed out. I know we’re city slickers, but we didn’t actually expect to see moose on Moose View Trail. But we thought it would be a fun short hike out to a lake. The Bearskin Lodge brochure said it also featured a “mysterious car.”

The mysterious car was cool, actually. It looks like it’s from the thirties or maybe forties, and it’s been there so long trees have grown up out of the trunk and what not. The mysterious part is that is has a rather large boulder on top of it. We thought long and hard about this, Mason postulated that perhaps the car was dumped from an airplane and a second airplane dropped the boulder. I thought it might have gone way off road, though I couldn’t come up with an even half-way plausible explanation for the boulder (space aliens?) Shawn thought the whole thing was a Rune Stone-esque prank and that a bunch of frat boys/girls carried in car parts and staged them and then dropped a big boulder on the car just to confuse and mystify people.

At the lake there was an observation platform and several moose/deer trails that lead to a swampy (or, as our lodge guy called it “moosey”) lake. Mason and I checked out the lake front, while Shawn settled in at the observation deck with her purse book (meaning, of course, the book she always has with her, in her purse.) Mason, as I have mentioned on this blog before, is easily amused in the woods. He will, as he did on Saturday, spend HOURS collecting rocks to sploosh into the lake. At one point we tossed in a bit of birch branch and used it as target practice. We left quite happy, though moose-less, sometime just before lunch. Shawn teased us though that if any moose had wanted to come along we scared them with all of our loud shouting and carrying on. We started laughing about how all the moose must be stampeding toward our cabin, freaked out by all the crazy noise those city folks made at Moose View Trail.

We were still laughing about this in the car on the drive back to the lodge when a moose came up out of the ditch. Luckily, I was not driving anywhere near speed limit; (I’m that driver you get stuck behind on all the scenic roads going ten miles under.) And, I spotted it’s massiveness in time. We stopped. It got half way into the road and stopped. We stared. S/he squinted. (Moose have notoriously bad eye-sight.) Shawn spent the entire time trying to find her camera, I kept talking nervously about how sometimes moose mistake cars for mates, and eventually the moose got bored with us and hoofed off into the underbrush. (Before, of course, Shawn could get its picture.)

We figured that was our moose view at Moose View Trail, though we decided it was fun enough just throwing rocks that we’d go back again today (Sunday). Shawn suggested that maybe if we were a bit more quiet we might actually spot moose (ho, ho.)

Except, we did. Two of them.

We came back to Moose View Trail a bit earlier today. Mason and I brought three gallon baggies full of rocks we collected around the lodge. Shawn had her book. We were ready to settle in for another morning of rock tossing and hiking. We got to the main spot, past the mysterious car again, and were half way through our second bag of rocks when I heard a splash. It was much bigger than the sound of the rocks Mason was tossing, so I looked up. Across the small lake, I saw two moose going into the water for a swim.

As the guy at the lodge said, “Moose on Moose View Trail. No way.”