Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Gate Drama
While the “parents” are away, the horses will play? In all the years we have had horses, we’ve never seen what happened yesterday while we are up at the lake. The friends staying at our house sent us a question about one of the gates. They didn’t remember it being bent and wondered how it was supposed to be secured. Photos had Cyndie and me massively shocked by what we were seeing.
What in the heck happened!?
The chain was completely gone. Whatever the impact was, it broke the link and sent the chain flying into the tall grass.
Our best guess is that Swings or Light, or possibly both, might have gotten spooked and sprinted toward the gate, forgetting that it was closed. Whatever occurred, it must have been quite a spectacle. Our friends didn’t find any evidence of injury to either horse, so that is good news.
We had been told the farmer who cuts and bales our hay field was hoping to show up within days so we had confined the horses to the paddocks and opened the outer gate by the road to allow the tractor to roll in unobstructed. With that paddock gate blown open, the two horses in that paddock could have made their way to freedom if they had ventured to the far side of the field. Luckily, they didn’t.
Over the phone, we strategized with Pam and John to guide them to materials to temporarily secure the gate and assure them all was fine, even as Cyndie and I marveled over the outrageousness of what we were seeing and the incident we were imagining had happened. We also had them close that gate by the road as an additional precaution. The farmer can open it when he finally arrives.
You just never know when the usual serenity of life with horses might be disrupted by some spectacular incident.
Of course it would occur when we are away.
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Now Where
Does it seem like I just got home from a week away to you? It sure seems like it to me but Cyndie planned a quick turnaround and scheduled us for an extended stay up at her family’s lake home in Hayward. Who am I to argue?
We spent a better part of the day yesterday preparing to be away and guiding our friends, Pam & John through the intricacies of living in our house and caring for Asher and the horses while we are gone. It soon became obvious there are a lot of details to our daily routine once we tried describing everything to them.
We left home later than planned and decided to stop for dinner on the way. Sitting in the booth, waiting for the food to arrive, it occurred to me that it was the third time in a row we had eaten out.
On Tuesday, we met Mike & Barb in Hastings for a meal at Missi’s Sip and Savor. I ordered the Walleye. It was luscious. The server brought me a birthday ice cream dessert.
On Wednesday, we met Paul & Beth in River Falls for a meal at Tattersall Distilling. I ordered Salmon. It was perfect. The server brought Paul and me a birthday ice cream sundae dessert treat.
Yesterday, we stopped at the Lake Magnor Restaurant in Clayton. I ordered the Wisconsin Burger (basically a California with cheese) basket with fries. It was delightful and just what I craved. We stopped later at a DQ where I got a Frozen Hot Chocolate.
The “cabin” looks great.
Since we were last here, painters have stained the new logs and put down new sealant on deck surfaces and stairs.
The place looks ready for another season or two against the elements.
Tonight, we plan to make it four nights in a row and visit Lost Land Lake Lodge for their famous Friday Fish Fry for dinner.
Since we are now settling in for a long stay at the lake, the question is no longer about where we are now, it should be about where will we be dining next.
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Nice Now
Now that our bike trip is over, the weather has taken a turn for the better. While many rivers in the area continue to overflow, the sun has come out at home and my gear has started to dry out. Last week’s rainy bike trip was not a bust due to the weather but it was significantly affected by it. We usually find ways to cope with crappy conditions.
This wasn’t the first time we’ve dealt with putting up or taking down our tents while it was raining. Most locations offer shelters that allow bikers to mingle out of the rain at the end of a day of biking. Often, frivolity ensues.
One of the original three goals set forth by Jim Klobuchar –the founder of the ride– is to bring economic development to the local businesses. We don’t just ensconce ourselves at the schools where we camp.
I am particularly fond of finding and spending money at ice cream shops. Pizza restaurants also tend to get a lot of attention from my circle of fanatics.
One of the more entertaining things to happen while we were riding occurred on the day Rich and I were sweepers, which happened to be a day of wind instead of rain. The wind was very strong and mostly steady out of the south. Luckily, we were headed north for much of the route and west occasionally. The wind was either at our backs or across our shoulders… until the very end.
Rich recorded some video of me coasting past him at more than 23 miles per hour on one of the sections with the tailwind. Meanwhile, he kept reminding me we would eventually be turning right into the gales.
On a stretch of trail several miles before turning into the wind, Rich called out that his crank arm had come loose and detached from the bottom bracket. The pedal remained clipped to his shoe.
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We called the sag support driver to collect Rich and his bike and I set off to sweep the final distance of the route on my own. Somewhere around this point of the story, our versions of what happened diverge. Rich denies it, but I contend that he purposefully yanked that crank loose so he wouldn’t have to deal with that ferocious headwind at the end.
Our subsequent tellings of the drama that played out became increasingly more outlandish with every telling and frequently had me laughing so hard it was difficult to get my words out.
All I know is, my version meets the criteria for seeming most likely.
Finishing those last miles alone made me very pleased that I had decided to install the battery on my e-bike. Without any other rider support against that wind, I didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the available power assist.
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Tour Complete
I’m home again and living under a solid roof for which I have a whole new level of appreciation. All the joys of tenting in nature are a great treasure, for sure, but after day upon day of wet conditions, it tends to lose a little of its luster.
As soon as I stopped my car in our driveway, I started dragging gear out to dry.
For those of you who may have been following along and watching the weather at each of our destinations, it should come as no surprise that precipitation dominated our activities to varying degrees for 6 of the 7 days. The visible difference in flooding of the Cannon River from the first day to our last was shocking. As we crossed the river on a concrete bridge near our last rest stop of the trip, we paused to watch large trees racing downstream.
One particular beast showed up with the root ball sticking out of the water on the left and very large limbs rising out of the water on the right as it rapidly flowed broadside toward us on the bridge. I regret that I wasn’t quick enough to get a picture because it was an incredible sight. The thought crossed my mind that we probably shouldn’t have been standing there as it slammed into the legs supporting the bridge with an impact we could feel. In an instant, the current forced the root ball end downstream and spun the full-sized tree in line with the flow and the tree scratched its way under and continued in the flow.
We hung around at that rest stop extra long while the mechanics rescued me from leaking tires.
That’s my bike on the stand being expertly repaired. (Steve: I thought my bike was “tubeless-ready,” but Joseph discovered it was plain old tubeless, much to my surprise. They had two new tires available and fixed me up since the old ones had too many tiny holes [and one mosquito-bite-looking bump.])
As they were finishing, Luther noticed the highway officials were closing the road at the bridge behind us. What a year for us to be riding around rivers that were overflowing so dramatically.
Despite the wetness, this year’s trip still offered up the most precious reward of all: meeting new people and horsing around with old friends. There was an uncharacteristic number of people dropping out early, partly due to the constant threat of storms, but for other reasons too. One pulled out because of a death in the family. Some suffered the consequences of their two bike wheels not remaining in contact with the ground at all times.
I’m pleased this year to be one of those who made it all the way to the end. I’m hoping to have inspired a few new readers, including the twins, Maggie and Kathleen, Tom from Atlanta and Kim in Winnipeg. A special shout-out goes to a pair of kindred spirits who I immediately fell in love with. I met them one at a time and in different memorable ways: CJ and Amy, I hope we might discover a way for you to come experience Wintervale in person someday.
I’ve explained to Cyndie that I have invited practically the entire tour over to see our place. The next best thing will probably be for them to read about it here.
No sooner than I had finished spreading all my stuff out in the partial sunlight, more rain started to fall again. I hustled to get it all into the garage.
It really doesn’t need to be said, but… the grass needs some serious mowing. Unfortunately, I may need to wait another day before starting on that project.
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50th Tour of Minnesota
I haven’t left home yet but my vacation week begins today! As I’ve done many other times, during my week of cycling the Tour of Minnesota and tent camping in various towns around the state, I have prepared scheduled posts for the days I’m away showing the planned routes so you can follow along and know our approximate location when the inevitable severe weather warnings pop up.
I wish that was a joke, but anecdotal evidence indicates wicked storms are becoming more the norm than the exception during the middle of June in Minnesota. In years past, I have ridden out storms in my tent while many others chose to sleep en masse in school buildings. After a too-close lightning strike one night and a screaming alarm on my phone indicating an imminent tornado another night, I realized I could no longer trust my judgment. I intend to be quicker to join the throngs indoors this year if warnings are posted.
The changing climate likes to point out these are not my father’s thunderstorms. Message received.
This being the 50th anniversary of this middle-of-June biking and camping week and my 25th (+/- my first year was 1994, but I missed a few throughout), I am thrilled at the switch from the far reaches of the state –over the years we’ve slipped into every state around Minnesota plus Canada– to a route that will take us directly through the middle of the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul.
Somewhere between 250 and 300 people will gather this afternoon in Cannon Falls, MN to pick up our registration packets and set up tents to kick off the most fun like-minded cyclists could possibly have. I can’t wait to see Doobie, Joyce, Joey, Rich, Julie, Steve, Gary, John, Jim, Steve, Roger, Dick, Al, Suzanne, Laura, Rhonda, David, Tim, Cynthia, Scott, Luther, Joseph, Marilyn, Geoffrey, Ed, Deanna, Mary-Jo, Luke, Staci, Jennifer, Dan, Jim, Peggy, Lance, Mary, Cindy, Scott, Jackie, Mary, Jerry, Ellen, Joan, Melanie, Dusty, Karen, Dick, Jan, Pat and the rest whom I will recognize but not remember their names, plus the many people who I will be meeting for the very first time.
Here’s hoping for a safe and adventure-filled week pedaling two wheels and sleeping on the ground with friends.
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Aurora Watch
We go from Trillium observation on the ground to glowing ionosphere in the sky. Last night, friends Pam Knutson and John Bramble drove out from the Cities to join Cyndie and me in an Aurora Borealis watch party on the hill in our hay field.
We closed gates to temporarily constrain the horses to the paddocks and back pasture. Then Asher and I walked up to the high spot just after sunset to scout our location for sky-watching.
Cyndie packed our zero-gravity recliners and blankets in the car and we set up to await the show.
After reading the multitude of reports getting posted about fantastic sightings in locations well to the south of us, I was prepared for a spectacular event. Cyndie has an app that gives an aurora forecast and it was sending alerts of the increased activity. As Pam and John arrived, the percentage of likelihood was indicating 33% in our location.
We had a great view of constellations and saw satellites move across the sky in addition to regular airplane traffic. As far as Aurora goes, we saw very little with our eyes. However, I had read that using Night Mode on our iPhones would capture more than our eyes perceive.
Bingo!
There was some color showing up through the camera lens around 11:30 p.m. that our eyes could barely see.
This was around the same time Cyndie took another look at the app to see what our chances were up to for a visible spectacle. It had changed from 33 down to 4%. That was good enough to help us all decide to call it a night.
Fatigue helped me easily get over a fear of missing out on even more dramatic viewing after we stopped watching. Our warm and cozy bed was calling my name loud and clear.
At least our iPhones saw something pretty cool.
I had fun watching the night sky with friends for a few hours and listening to the calls of an owl serenading us. I had even more fun climbing into bed and falling instantly into Sleepsville. By that hour, it didn’t matter to me if the viewing outside was becoming better than ever.
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Guitar Pal
I first met him as my friend’s friend. The Honorable H. Peter Albrecht. Only knowing him for all too short a time did nothing to soften the horrible shock of learning Peter died yesterday after suffering a stroke. The primary connection I was privileged to have with Peter was playing guitar and singing songs at our friend, Gary Larson’s “music night” parties.
Peter was fun, funny, friendly, gracious, witty, a jokester, I’ve heard prankster, and did I mention fun? He also was a collector of guitars. Peter described keeping an old empty guitar case at his office so he could purchase a new (to him) instrument and bring it home without revealing he had added another guitar to his collection.
He didn’t exclusively play and collect guitars. Some nights after dinner at Gary’s, Peter would pull out a gorgeous mandolin or less often, a banjo. As thrilling as that was for me to see the greater extent of his musical passions, it left me struggling to follow along without being able to see what chord he was playing on songs I didn’t know.
We all tend to struggle with remembering lyrics at times. When Peter clicked into a song, I found myself mesmerized by the many verses he was able to deliver with ease. Suddenly, he would nod my way and invite me to improvise a lead up the fretboard, jarring me back to needing to connect my head with my fingers.
I cherish the stories from Gary and Peter’s years together working as judges that I was able to hear over so many dinners. It was not enough though. I was playing my guitar yesterday to polish up my underused skills in preparation for the latest occasion of Gary’s music party scheduled for tonight.
Receiving that shocking message from Gary yesterday afternoon introduced a finality that I’m wrestling to comprehend. How can Peter be gone? Why didn’t I play more songs with him when I had the chance?
It has instantly made every memory of playing together with Peter and Ned Wahl on those music nights a pure treasure for me.
I wrote a song for Gary to commemorate his many years of hosting these parties. Peter was such an influence on me he made it into the lyrics, good-naturedly poking fun at him for his bad jokes.
look what Gary has created
he’s done it again
gathered all of us together
to feast among friendsthen we revel with some music
and lush sing-alongs
well maybe not so lush
we can’t remember the songsChorus: hail, hail our friend Gary
it’s a wonderful thing
he gets all of us together
and inspires us to singwe pause to remember
all the times come before
then relish this fine moment
singing with friends we adoresome say it’s penance we’re paying
for being so well-fed
or a way to forget the worst jokes
Peter has saidbut the truth is that we’re happy
to sing when it comes time
it’s a precious thing to be here
mixing with folks so divine
Into the light, Peter. I will think of you every time I flip the latches open on my guitar case.
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Country City
Out here in the rural countryside, Cyndie and I spent yesterday morning wrangling unwanted vines in an area of our woods that has received little attention during our ownership. We rewarded ourselves for that effort with a trip to the big city for dinner with friends and live music at a new venue.
I have a new project in the early stages to make some changes to the landscape around the house. One of the important fixes will be the routing of a downspout at the corner of the garage leading to our front door.
The plastic conduit didn’t work. I’ve decided to change to an overhead route for the downspout and will try constructing an arbor out of vines to support it. We’ve been cutting down so many large, woody vines this year that I would like to make use of the wealth of interesting wood.
Pulling the vines out of all the branches they were clinging to was an exhausting effort. I’d like to use as many of the small runners coming off the main trunks as possible to tie things together for an arbor. I didn’t want to just cut them off, which would have been much easier.
In the afternoon, we drove to Minneapolis for dinner at the home of our friends, Pam & John. We started on their front porch in the warm sunlight…
When the sun moved on and the porch became more shadowed we headed inside for a scrumptious early meal. After dinner, we drove to the new Zhora Darling restaurant at the site of the former North East hallmark Red Stag Supper Club. Pam and John’s son, Sam, plays drums in FénixDion. Last night they performed in a pared-down trio version of their membership.
It made for a very fulfilling day and contrasted wonderfully with the long stretches of days when I have [happily] done little outside the house. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been waiting the last few weeks, oh, even months to dig into an outdoor project and then go frolic around in Minneapolis.
We did make it home in time to turn on the latter portion of the NCAA Women’s basketball game between Iowa and UConn. I’m okay with Caitlin Clark and her teammates getting to play one more game. I’ll be watching.
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Easter Brunch
Yesterday’s Easter brunch deserves additional press. Did I mention Cyndie made EVERYTHING with one exception of purchased meats? That is why I was smelling tempting aromas for several days. Read the list below, presented in no specific order, and try to imagine fitting a little taste of each offering on your plate or in your stomach during one brief brunch event:
- Caramel Rolls
- Cinnamon Buns
- Puppy Tails (baked cinnamon twists)
- Pear Almond Crescents w/ apricot glaze and almond drizzle
- 4-Cheese Scalloped Potatoes
- Tulip Deviled Eggs
- Caramelized Pecan Spring Mix Salad
- Three Pea Salad
- Roasted Heirloom Rainbow Carrots w/ orange marmalade and maple syrup
- Fruit Salad w/ [Patty’s] honey-lime dressing
- Egg Bake w/ roasted red peppers, spinach, asparagus, caramelized onions, mushrooms, orange & yellow peppers, and lots of cheese
- Holy Kolachy sandwich buns (Gramma Betty Buns)
- HoneyBaked Ham and Turkey* (purchased)
- Raisin Sauce
- Coconut Bunny Butt Cupcakes
- Dark Chocolate Cherry Almond Bark
- 4 kinds of Truffles: Grand Marnier, Cognac, Vanilla, Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
- Mint Meringue Cookies
- Lemon Curd Meringue nests
- Butter Cream Cookies
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Honorable mention goes to Elysa for her contribution of an “Imposter Dessert” that looked like Deviled Eggs but was in fact a sweet treat of sweet milk gelatin filled with cream cheese frosting.
Like mother, like daughter, Cyndie had taken a crack at her own twist on deviled eggs. Neither of them knew what the other was up to. Cyndie decided to prepare her eggs like some she saw in an image online.
It was the last thing she did before heading to bed Saturday night. I asked her how they turned out and she hesitatingly offered “a solid medium.”
They tasted great! Although, I understand her opinion. It’s similar to the way fast food burgers look in commercials compared to what you actually receive in the wrapper. Cyndie is healthy enough to laugh along with me when her outcomes might not meet what she intended after seeing images in recipes. Her tulips look like they may have been dropped during shipment from the florist.
I ate leftovers for dinner last night while watching March Madness basketball.
I got up from my spot on the couch and went downstairs to make the sandwich. When I returned, a certain canine had taken my place.
I didn’t have the heart to kick him out so I sat on the side.
Do you think I can get Cyndie to take a day off from cooking or baking something new today?
Me either.
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Flowing Now
It’s quite possible that we are done with the snow season. That doesn’t rule out a stray snow shower in the next month but future incidents are unlikely to result in days of white blanketing the land like we are just had. The water was flowing at maximum levels in the drainage channels yesterday afternoon.
We have reached the point where the remaining piles of snow around the barn become precious resources for cleaning mud off my boots. These days are numbered.
Our afternoon will be filled with an Easter feast that Cyndie has been preparing for days to serve to a gathering of family and friends.
I suspect the day will be filled with struggles to contain Asher’s enthusiasm for visitors and food left in his reach. For the record, nothing is truly ever out of his reach. The poor guy has been noticeably unenthusiastic about his dog food of late. We were wondering if he might be unwell but this morning it occurred to me that there might be an issue with the current bag of food. A bad batch, maybe?
When he sniffed at his bowl this morning and then walked away from it, we replaced the serving with some rice and chicken and he gobbled that up without hesitation. We definitely don’t want him going hungry so we will make solving this a priority. It’s hard enough to keep Asher focused on responding to commands he has already learned without us having to cope with him being in a “hangry” mood.
Delicious food and merry mirth will be flowing momentarily at Wintervale. I’m looking forward to being able to taste what I have been smelling from Cyndie’s kitchen for days.
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Relative Something 