Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Pretty Pleased
Traveling from -11°F to +19°F in the hours required to drive home to Wintervale, and from a weekend of too little sleep to a full night’s slumber, has left me feeling dizzy.
I found the landscape at home to be confusingly reduced in snow cover, regardless of the temperature remaining well below the thaw point. Did it all evaporate? The snowfall threat for our county didn’t happen as predicted on Saturday. Cyndie had the horses all blanketed in advance, then needed to remove them first thing the next morning.
I’m not unhappy that it didn’t snow. There was no shoveling required. It was a relief.
Alas, the one who greeted me right inside the door when I got home was Asher, wagging his tail, making sure he saw me before Cyndie did. In short order, it was time for me to commence with my first-of-the-month tasks. The month of March has arrived. Spring is on the way soon. I guess this qualifies as March coming in like a lamb.
I am mentally preparing for Cyndie’s departure in a couple of days for Florida to visit her mom for almost two weeks. That means I will not only be in charge of all the animal caretaking, but I will also become the head cook, as well. That will align well with my new diet. I ate so many cookies and coffeecake she provided for the weekend that I would like to use her absence to return my caloric intake to reasonable levels. I need to offset my recent excess and stem the tide of my expanding middle.
How quickly my mind has jumped out of “vacation” and back into reality mode. Granted, it was only three days, but it felt more like an epic adventure. Partly because it’s been so long since the last time I went fishing, and partly because I have spent very little social time with these schoolmates before.
It was a blast, but fun as it was, I’m feeling pretty pleased to be back home once again.
Icy Fun
For a completely different variety of outdoor adventures from managing Wintervale Ranch, I have been given an introduction to my friend Brian’s YouTube channel, “Miks Retirement Adventures.” If you want to tag along on his real-life escapades with cooking, self-reliance gardening, living off the land-game and fish, as well as tapping trees to make maple syrup, visit the link and check out some of his videos.
Brian has been our primary host for this weekend’s adventures in ice fishing for perch on Cass Lake.
Despite the threat of challenging weather, we lucked out, both up here and, per Cyndie’s report, at home. She says there was no snow at Wintervale, contrary to the predictions of 2-4 inches of snow possible. Up in Cass Lake, yesterday was not as windy as predicted. That challenge actually swooped in on Friday afternoon while we were driving up.
We saw pine branches falling from trees as we drove, a large sign toppled over, flags hanging on for dear life, and a whiteout of snow blowing across the lake.
Yesterday was much more reasonable, which was good because too many hands made the setup of one of Brian’s portable fish houses infinitely more complicated than it is supposed to be.
The air temperature was around 7°F, which wasn’t a problem. Adding the shelters and turning on a small heater made bare-handed functioning perfectly comfortable.
Using a battery-powered auger, Brian drilled through the 30 inches of ice with relative ease. The shelters were moved into position over the holes, hooks got baited, and the waiting for the fish to bite commenced.
There was a fair amount of activity from perch that were embarrassingly small. We started to make a game of trying to catch the smallest one. I reeled in a little guy that fit pretty well into the bait bucket with the minnows.
I did catch a couple that were kept and included in the batch that Brian ultimately filleted for whoever was most interested. We already had plans for a spaghetti dinner with a delicious homemade sauce.
There is a quick turnaround on this trip, and we are heading back to the Cities already this morning. My return to home life doesn’t mean I won’t still be able to enjoy fishing trips with Brian. He chronicled a recent adventure in winter camping in the BWCA and his pursuit of lake trout in this video:
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I can watch him do all the hard work of recording and narrating while seated comfortably in my recliner. I hope those of you for whom this appeals will check out his channel, and if you find it a fun watch, subscribe in support of his efforts. You’ll be doing the world a favor by keeping one more retiree occupied and out of trouble.
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Mystery Trip
I’m going fishing.
Back in December of 2025, I was invited to join a March ice-fishing weekend that a bunch of high school classmates have been doing for years up north out of a resort on Cass Lake in Minnesota.
I don’t do a lot of fishing anymore, but I love northern Minnesota and the great outdoors, and I am a big fan of these guys. The thing is, I have not done anything socially with most of them. I will be the ‘new guy,’ unfamiliar with the resort accommodations and the typical routines for the guys throughout the weekend.
So, it’s something of a mystery trip, but I am catching a ride with two veterans of the event, which will give me a few hours to hear some tales of previous escapades that should give me some idea of what to expect.
Since I am new to this affair, Cyndie has kindly provided me with a contribution that might buy me some goodwill with the boys, should I come up short in any other way.
A cranberry-orange-pecan coffee cake…
and three different kinds of cookies: Oatmeal Raisin, Chocolate Chip w/ Pecans, and Ginger Shortbread.
If it turns out that I make a terrible ice-fishing partner, I figure Cyndie’s baked goods should earn me a modicum of cred in an alternate capacity.
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Photo Serendipity
A few days ago, I unexpectedly received a photo from a cycling friend, Curt. It sparked a brilliant bout of serendipity for me.
In the photo, I am playing guitar, surrounded by people I recognized from years of riding the annual June “Jaunt with Jim” bike adventure. The image failed to trigger any specific memory of the moment depicted. Curt texted that 2003 was written on the back.
The bearded fellow over my shoulder is Doug Willhide, who happens to write and share regular snippets of his own “take on things and experiences,” which he calls “Nutshells.” For some reason that I’m not overtly aware of, I decided to share this picture with Doug. The response I got back was not on my radar.
He wrote that he believed that picture was from Ladysmith, WI, and included “notes” he’d found about that second-to-last day in 2003. A mere six paragraphs depicting in detail the entire day, from breakfast to crawling into his tent that night.
To my utmost surprise, Doug’s notes captured the place and moment when Jim Klobuchar gathered everyone on the lawn of the church outside of Catawba after lunch to read a poem I had written about the trip. That was a memory that I had lost all specific details of, beyond how it felt to be standing beside him as he read it, and the wonderful responses from folks afterward.
The serendipity of Curt randomly sending me this photo, my arbitrarily passing it along to Doug, the picture being from that very day when Jim read the poem to the group, Doug having found his notes from that year, and his capturing the pertinent details… it gives me chills.
It makes me feel like we are all more connected than we tend to notice.
Backstory:
On the Friday night that all the riders gathered at the start in 2003, I had asked Jim if I could read my poem to the group. He took it from me, pocketed it for the moment, and wandered off to greet others. The next day, he approached me and said he liked what I had written and wanted to read it to the group himself.
My first reaction was resistance. Would he get the cadence right? Was he unwilling to share the spotlight for even a brief moment? How could he even ask?
But just as quickly, my respect for his reputation as a writer and his journalistic credentials had me thinking, “Jim Klobuchar wants to publicly recite poetry I wrote?!” I was definitely honored. I had no idea he would end up making me wait until the following Thursday. I also had no clue that he would call me up to stand beside him while he performed it.
Between struggling not to blush too much, I was rewarded with seeing the reactions on people’s faces.
He couldn’t have timed it any better. It’s long been one of my most treasured moments.
I eventually wrestled that prose to fit into a melody and turned it into a song with a sing-along chorus. A friend helped me record a multitrack version of the song, which I combined with a slideshow of photos from the bike trips.
It was a special day when I knocked on Jim’s door to present him with a video about the bike adventures he conducted for 39 years.
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Lotta Love
It is classically crispy and spring-like this morning, even though we are still weeks away from the vernal equinox that marks the arrival of the next season. The planet continues to melt and cook as predicted by climate scientists. Imagine that.
A couple of days ago, there was still enough snow in some spots that Asher could almost disappear in his hunt for rodents.
This morning, the high ground of the hay field is fully exposed.
Paw and boot prints in the soft, slushy snow from last night are perfectly preserved by the temperature drop below freezing, so we can see where Asher and the dog sitter walked while we were away last night. We were in the Cities for a Valentine’s dinner at the home of our friends, Pam and John, before the four of us attended “Saturday Night Love” at the O’Shaughnessy Auditorium at St. Catherine University in St. Paul.
One of our favorite humorous storytellers, Kevin Kling, and six music and theater friends offer an annual show on themes of love. This year, love was greatly needed, in light of the abuse Minnesota has suffered at the hands of brutal ICE agents’ unconstitutional provocations and murderous attacks on citizens. The collective attempt to process the trauma of the endless days of stress was palpable in the robust shared audience participation and heartfelt responses to the entertainment provided on the stage.
The hilarious familiarity of situations and word-images that Kevin Kling paints with his strong Minnesota accent is always a special treat. He harkened back to the days we drank well water directly from the hose and played with Jarts lawn darts. In classic Minnesota form, he shared a quote that if you mess with one tater tot, you mess with the entire hotdish.
The packed auditorium seemed to respond so universally to each of the occasional references to the attacks by the oppressive regime that I found myself wondering if any MAGA supporters might be in the audience. They could just as equally appreciate reminiscent storytelling, popular music, poetry, and show tunes. If so, what must they sense from the emphatic response of so many people around them?
What do they think when so much love for all of humanity is expressed with such robust enthusiasm by hundreds of others?
It’s not something I can comprehend. What I do know is that the love vibrations being shared last night were wonderfully energizing. It was refreshing to receive more than we gave for a change.
It has left us vibrating, still.
All we need is love, dat dadatta da!
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Unexpected Fun
Forgetting for a moment that citizens of our country are under attack from our own government was more fun than we expected yesterday. While the bowling by the unpracticed novices of our family qualified as comical, it takes a measurable level of personal strength to laugh at one’s own foibles displayed so openly among strangers. I’m pretty sure I accomplished rolling a gutter ball following a previous frame strike. D’oh!
After surviving the sensory overload of overly rambunctious youngsters, a pop music soundtrack, clanging and banging arcade machines, and plenty of crazy lighting effects, we made our way to the Namaste India Grill & Brewhouse for laughter around the table. With a menu of enough delectable choices to make my head spin, I don’t think there was a duplicate order among any of the six of us.
I treasured hearing an impassioned conversation from a booth nearby in a language I didn’t recognize. We arrived before the dinner rush and were able to witness the gradual increase of customers from a variety of nationalities filling the tables, which bolstered the atmosphere of fun.
Alone with Cyndie on the drive home after precious time with our kids, we discovered the best surprise of the day. Turning her attention to her phone for messages, Cyndie discovered calls from a friend from graduate school in San Diego, some 46 years ago.
Cyndie and her two best friends from that time in graduate school had lost touch over the years and miles, but Susan and Lupe were moved to search for Cyndie’s information to offer their support for the ongoing conflict in Minneapolis.
Apparently, I have written enough times about our life adventures that this blog, along with the details of our labyrinth location that we have submitted to the Labyrinth Society, provides enough clues to reach us. For the record, that is by design.
Cyndie was moved to tears to hear Susan’s voice on the message in the car and could hardly wait to call her back when we got home. I could see years melting away from Cyndie’s aura as she flipped through old photographs from such a long time ago.
I recognize that feeling of a bond with friends who shared such a significant time of life, the challenges of higher education, and the unknown places it might lead to for all of them.
The reconnection was an unexpected bonus of fun on our day. I picked up the excitement vicariously through how vividly it reinvigorated Cyndie. Finding out that this blog helped the three of them rediscover their friendship connection again warms my heart.
Thanks for your keen sleuthing efforts to find us, Susan and Lupe! LOVE!
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Wonder Dog
Before I get to today’s post, I want to proclaim that I unequivocally object to everything the current U.S. criminal masquerading as a leader is up to, as well as all of the rest of the people in positions of power, who are allowing things to happen. It is soul-crushing and heartbreaking.
Our New Year’s getaway to Mike and Barb’s cabin was not entirely for Asher’s benefit, but he did seem to receive the bulk of everyone’s attention while we’ve been here. On a walk through the woods along a portage from Bluewater Lake to Trout Lake, we paused to let Asher zoom on the snow-covered ice.
He is enthralled with the scent he picks up from the deer tracks in the snow and would gladly follow them endlessly if we allowed. A gnome home in the trunk of a tree didn’t even get a sniff from him, probably because it looks like they must have traveled south for the winter.
No one is shoveling their entrance.
The extreme cold has softened, and it is pleasant to be out enjoying winter at its best. We’ve received fresh fallen snow each day, which is keeping everything white and making it look like we are playing in a snow globe.
As darkness fell, we heard the pop of a fireworks shot down the lake, which Barb and Mike knew indicated their neighbors were going to do a show of multiple shots soon. With a full moon peaking through the light cloud cover, we decided to walk down to the lake to watch.
Since Asher had never shown any reaction to gunshots or thunderclaps, we decided to test his reaction to the fireworks.
Our mistake was in assuming he would be as oblivious to them as he is to the other loud booms. The poor guy flipped out. Our 90-pound puppy went into a full-on panic of yelping and trying to drag me as fast as he could, and as far away as he could get.
We have confirmed our wonder dog’s kryoptonite.
Lesson learned, the hard way. This morning, Asher woke up as happy as ever, and he and I had a wonderful walk at dawn, leaving last night’s terror a memory we hope he won’t need to relive. In a short time, we will pack him up along with our bags and leftover food and head for home.
It’s been a fabulous visit. I expect it will also be fabulous to get him back to our usual routine at home, where he can be the wonder dog who barks at delivery trucks and rabbits in his yard.
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Great Adventures
Our first day of the new year up in the north woods was pure joy for Asher and us. The big pup got a lot of love from Mike, here shown gently accepting a treat:
We have been eating the most delicious and festive of foods prepared by Barb and Cyndie, with Mike adding his artistry in a variety of ways, including these wonderful appetizers:
When we weren’t busy eating, we were outside giving Asher a chance to explore the woods around the cabin. He was a good sport about staying in contact with us when we let him wander a little bit to follow the obvious deer tracks in the snow.
Mike dug through a closet of dog toys accumulated over the years and came up with a chew toy for Asher. Our hound gnawed on it for a little while, but then began pacing the cabin, looking for a place to bury it. I let him take it outside with us, and he immediately hunted for somewhere he could bury it in the snow.
Before we made our way back indoors, I snuck over and retrieved the “bone” and brought it back in with us.
He soon lost interest in it and moved on to other distractions, including barking at things out the window that none of the rest of us could perceive.
When we weren’t outside enjoying walks in the perfect falling snow, Barb and I ripped through a 300-piece jigsaw puzzle, while Cyndie made short work of a cribbage match with Mike. We played a couple of other games, listened to an episode of the Telepathy Tapes podcast, and watched a movie that was wrongly identified as a “comedy.”
You know, ‘at-the-lake’ activities.
My daily routine has been knocked for a loop without our usual twice-a-day horse-feeding detail, demonstrated by my confused and entirely incorrect exclamation that it was “already seven o’clock!” after glancing up at an analog clock with Roman numerals.
It was 5:00. Oops. Flipped that around a bit. That drew a few well-deserved wisecracks and laughter.
It’s a good thing I don’t drink alcohol. I’m able to remain clear-headed during these kinds of foibles, allowing me to chronicle them accurately for posterity.
We have no responsibilities to do anything different today, but I’ve heard a trip to Grand Rapids to eat at a restaurant is possible. I doubt Asher will be too thrilled with that plan, since it will involve him staying here alone, but I suspect we can reward him with a big explore later around our hosts’ other wooded property, just a short drive from their cabin.
Sometimes great adventures involve a little sacrifice.
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Happy 2026!
Happy New Year, 2026!
We made it up to the Wilkus’ cabin, 13 miles north of Grand Rapids, MN, yesterday afternoon with plenty of time to watch the calendar turn at midnight. After stacking 100 bales of hay in a gorgeous snow squall, we packed up Asher and plenty of food and winter gear for the 4-hour drive north.
May auld acquaintance be forgot.
• Farewell 2025 •
Snow Likely
It’s just weather. We’ve dealt with it before. Maybe that’s why I’m dreading it so much, in advance. We awoke to a continuing gray fog looming over the landscape, one that freezes on surfaces, making navigating on foot treacherous.
I opened up my weather app to learn we are under a Winter Storm Watch, the description of which is my worst sort to suffer:
* …Snow likely, possibly heavy at times. Total snow accumulations between 5 and 8 inches. A light glazing of ice is possible. Winds could gust as high as 40 mph.
I loathe clearing snow when the accumulation has started with rain that then freezes with snow welded into it. It’s not always frozen, though. The fast-falling snow can insulate the surface to create deep snow with a heavy, wet unfrozen layer at the bottom. Miserable to plow. Sticks to the blade. Becomes too heavy to push. Or, freezes to the surface so it can’t be removed by shovel or blade.
Asher kept an eye out for critters lurking about in the fog this morning while the horses had their noses in the feed buckets.
We are weighing the options for the best time to blanket the three horses before they get wet, but not so soon that they get sweaty, since the temperature remains above freezing in the hours before the storm kicks up.
Our plan to have the kids come hang out with us tomorrow is wrecked by the risk of nasty weather. However, lest you think I’ve become a surly old grump, there is a silver lining to acknowledge.
We were originally planning to be up at the lake place for a few days before then driving to Grand Rapids, MN, to spend New Year’s Day with our friends, Barb & Mike. It was the news of hay being delivered on the 31st that had prevented us from going to the lake.
That change means we are home to deal with the arrival of oodles of messy precipitation and high winds. If we were up north when the storm hit, the person who was scheduled to feed the horses wouldn’t have been able to get up our driveway unless they used snowshoes.
How great that it worked out that we will be home! I just need to get the snow cleared by Wednesday so the hay delivery can go smoothly. As soon as it’s all in the shed, we hope to hightail it north to Grand Rapids.
See. We don’t look grumpy at all. Although that photo captured us on Christmas night at her brother’s house. I reserve the right to change my expression while clearing snow all day on Monday.
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Relative Something 