Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Made It
Thursday’s goals have been achieved. I finished trimming the edges of our north loop trail.
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We made it to Mike and Barb’s lake place in time for dinner.
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[mic drop]
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Hedge Wall
When we get home from the lake on a Monday and depart the following Thursday for our friends’ lake cabin, it doesn’t leave me much time in my role as Head Groundskeeper. Making things even more complicated, another rain shower cut into the limited hours available for mowing. The trail I’ve been wanting to trim has escaped attention for longer than I hoped so far this summer.
Yesterday, while waiting for the morning dew to dry so I could mow, I grabbed the hedge trimmer and tackled as much as I could before lunch.
It doesn’t stand out much in that photo, but I was working the right side of the path to achieve a clean hedge wall out of the wild growth along our property border with the neighboring farm field. It’ll look great once I finish the full length.
This is the second summer that I have been working to shape that tangle of scrub trees into a clean natural barrier. I thought it would be a little easier the second time around, but things have grown fast and thick with all the precipitation we’ve received this summer.
I hope to make enough progress this morning to finish the north loop trail all the way to the road before time runs out and we leave for Mike and Barb’s lake place which is a 4-hour drive away.
Squeezing in a few long days of landscape work is worth the extra effort to get the payoff of another weekend of lake fun, especially with friends we will be traveling with come fall. The four of us are planning a visit to Iceland in September.
For a guy who isn’t all that fond of travel, I sure have been spending a lot of time away from home lately. When we get home from the lake this weekend, I’ll only have a few days before heading up for a weekend of biking in Hayward.
Maybe I can spend a few extra days at home during August. One of my great pleasures in life is having nowhere I need to go. I am an exception to the norm of people retiring with hopes of traveling the world.
I much prefer being in my own home more often than not.
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Pickleball Tourney
Tradition is morphing in the Wildwood Lodge Club community for 4th of July games as we no longer split into teams of red and blue “Bats” against “Mice” in a series of classic picnic games. No more three-legged race. Balloon toss didn’t happen. Not even the watermelon eating contest was held.
However, in a nod to the good old days, the shoe kick was executed before we all headed down to the tennis court for the main event.
After that, pickleball ruled the day.
They claim a randomizer was used to create teammates and as can happen, one of the random pairs turned out to be husband and wife. My partner, Tom Whitlock, and I got knocked out in the semi-final round which was nothing to be ashamed of. It was single elimination so early losers didn’t get a chance to try again.
Most of us hung around to enjoy the competition as things grew increasingly interesting in the challenge to achieve the pickle trophy. That husband and wife pair made it all the way to the final match but they lost to a team that included last year’s champion. It may be the start of a dynasty.
Tom and I somehow landed premier seating for the final.
Late post today because I was distracted by Stage 9 of the Tour de France and all the sections of gravel adding excitement to the multiple attacks by the yellow jersey.
Many of the Wildwood crew are planning to head home today but we have a few diehards hoping to go tubing between rain showers before packing it in. Cyndie and I will stay one more night before returning to Wintervale tomorrow.
I’m looking forward to seeing our animals again.
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Wildlife Sightings
The day started pretty normal yesterday up at the lake, despite the fact it was a national holiday. Our community game day is scheduled for tomorrow since the 4th landed on a Thursday and not everyone was able to arrive during the work week.
First things first. Time to pump up the inflatables.
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While I was standing on the dock, I spotted a fish watching our every move.
Later, while we were sitting on the deck we heard the call of an eagle. It was perched in a tree at the side of the house.
We’ve heard multiple reports of bear sightings on the property. As Cyndie and her niece, Althea were about to leave on a trip to town, the young bear crossed the driveway a short distance ahead of them.
The visibility of wildlife helps to make it feel more like we are on vacation at the lake place. It’s like the frosting on our cake of hanging out with family and friends, laughing over stories, playing games, and sharing scrumptious meals.
I’ve almost forgotten what it is like to be home and tending to the property and animals each day.
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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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Relative Something 