Further Adventures Up North

What better way to celebrate a long holiday weekend than to head up north with family?

It had only been a month since our last trip, so all of us knew the drill. Pretty well, anyway. We'd thought ahead for some helpful additions such as water shoes to protect our feet from the lake bottom; it would have been nice if I'd remembered my swimsuit, though! (T-shirt and shorts made an acceptable substitute.)

We had a somewhat larger group this time, with both JoyDad's brothers (Uncle Marathon and Uncle DO) and their spouses (Auntie Save-the-Tatas and Auntie LO). Joy was delighted to discover that four out of the six adults could do JoyDad's special trick where he relaxes his face and shakes his head quickly from side to side, making a silly "blub-blub-blub" noise with his mouth. She ran from one to the other on the screen porch, grinning up at them and shaking her head to request more!

Joy also had a special connection with Auntie Save-the-Tatas, whom she doesn't see often. This auntie was the go-to gal for special kissies and cuddles. Cute as could be.

Auntie LO and Uncle DO, meanwhile, brought the entertainment with games and goodies. Rose loved the big bubble-wands they brought, just perfect for holding up in the wind on the pier and creating huge bubbles for Joy's delight:


Joy, meanwhile, got a lot of mileage out of the swim-noodles that we bought on the way:


Wonderful weekend for water-play! The weather was warm and we had sunny skies for most of the sojourn. Despite the wind on the water, Uncle Marathon could always find a place to anchor the pontoon boat for the whole crew to take the plunge. Joy discovered what fun it was to lean back in the water in her life-vest and kick with her feet. And Rose was brave enough this time to actually jump from the boat:


The lake was at least a foot higher than it was a month ago, due to some rain and a strategically placed beaver dam. This made for some fine water-play down at the pier as well:



I suppose I should report that we finally broke our flawless chain of laxa-swim events. After a less-than-ideal diaper change on the pontoon boat the first time out, we managed to have the rest of the weekend's swims without going through more than one swim diaper. Whew. And in further toileting news, we did bring along the potty insert so that Joy could practice in the outhouse. I didn't have the stamina to take her for nearly as many scheduled trips as we do at home, but we practiced often enough that she did pee out there once!

Though it seems sometimes that the lake vacations never change, this time there was a new addition, engineered by the inlaws who own the larger share of the property and spend most of the summer up there: a new, not-quite-finished shower house.



It's quite a complex system. First you have to pump a tank full of water by hand over by the old pump. Then you have to fire up the generator so the sump pump can move the water over to the tank by the shower. Then there's switch mechanisms in the shower for heat and water pressure. Fancy stuff.

Of course, it wouldn't be a lake vacation without some explosive crisis. For some reason the girls and I are always down at the lake when the hollering starts. We were splashing at the pier when Uncle Marathon's voice raised the alarm, and his brothers burst out of the cabin (one out the front door, one out the back) to come to his assistance.

Here's what exploded this time:


Doesn't it look rather like an exotic flower? Alas, this is the remains of the hot water line coming into the shower house. The tubing was obviously not quite of a caliber to take the heat and the pressure, and so Uncle Marathon got an unfortunate surprise during his shower experience! (Auntie LO was the only one who got an uninterrupted shower earlier that afternoon. Lucky lady.)

Though we were there for Independence Day, we didn't take any explosives up with us. There's been a drought up there, and we weren't interested in risking a forest fire -- though it turned out to be rainy on Sunday afternoon into the evening, so even our grilling was soggy! The gray sky was still light when we put the girls to bed, and then we retired back to the screen porch to listen to the 1812 Overture that Uncle DO and Aunt LO had thoughtfully put on their MP3 player. Just as the cannons were firing, we noticed that the sky behind the cabin was producing shades of pink. As we ventured out to see, we discovered that the sunset had produced something else amazing:


This rainbow was huge, and complete. No way to get it all on the camera. It arced all the way across the sky, and from the end of the pier we could see the entire arc reflected in the lake as well. Full circle.

Northwoods Adventure: Why We Had to Come Ashore

So -- as we left things in the previous (inadvisedly cliff-hanger-y) post, we'd been summoned back to the cabin in a voice that brooked no dispute, without knowing why. The distance would have been an easy dash on land, but not from an anchored pontoon boat with the crew bobbing about in the water! Had to get everyone back on board, haul up the anchors, get the boat restarted despite a balky battery, then ease it back into the super-shallow water next to the pier. All without unduly scaring the young'uns... Rose in particular has such an imagination.

As you can guess, the adults on the boat had no trouble imagining a couple of dire health-related scenarios too. Just in case, I volunteered to keep the girls busy at the pier and let the guys go pounding up to the cabin to see what was up.

GrampaK was on the screen porch, trying to catch his breath. From the adrenaline. According to reports, the first words out of his mouth were, "The window exploded!"


He'd been sitting at the dining table with his back to the window in question, halfway across the room. All of a sudden there was a huge crash, and glass from the window came flying all over the room, some of it hitting him in the back and head. He escaped to the porch and was waiting for reinforcements to try and sort things out (and check for cuts, which fortunately were none).

Guess what they found on the kitchen floor, amidst the shards. A sizable hawk, somewhat dazed but very much alive! [Update: and here it is!]


We suspect that the hawk was stooping down on one of the birds that was nesting in the eaves of the cabin -- and that the nesting bird had a much better feel for its position relative to the cabin than that hawk did. The impact must have been full-tilt, probably deceived by the reflection of the woods in the glass.

JoyDad and Uncle Marathon tried to toss an old army-blanket onto the hawk, to wrap it up and get it out of the house without any close encounters with beak or talons. But the hawk wasn't as injured as all of that. It kept escaping as the blanket came down. Then it flew into the loft. The guys ended up chasing it all around with a broom before they finally got it out the door. Then they had to use the broom for its intended purpose. There was glass everywhere, strewn all the way across the cabin floor and furniture.

We actually only had one night with a tarp nailed over where the window should be. GrampaK and Uncle Marathon went to town the next day, and despite the holiday weekend, found someone to cut a pane of glass to the right size. They brought it back unbroken over bumpy roads, puttied it in, and with any luck, it'll last sixty years like its predecessor.

As long as the hawks steer clear.

[Great big additional update!]
Great googly moogly, y'all. It wasn't a hawk after all. It was a ruffed grouse!!

Photo from
http://www.wataxidermist.com/wa-taxidermist-GALLERY.html

Huge tip of the hat and a low bow to Kelly's bird-enthusiast son, from the comments. Now that he pointed me in the right direction, I can see it: the chicken-like beak instead of the hooked raptor-beak, and the dark band of feathers (broken in the middle) at the end of the tail.

I guess this gives us all something to grouse about?! :-)

Northwoods Adventures

As the holiday weekend approached and we watched the weather forecast for our northwoods getaway, we feared an adventure full of sweltering heat and vicious bugs. Several years ago JoyDad and Rose had suffered through such a Memorial Day sweatbox at the lake, barely able to step out of the overheated cabins without being carried off by mosquitoes and biting flies. (Other years, we've had snow at the end of May. You just never know.)

This year couldn't have been more beautiful. The sun shone hot at mid-day, but the air was dry and didn't hold the heat at night. In fact, everything was dry. The lake was low. But the drought meant that the bugs were at an all-time minimum for spring. It felt like mid-summer.

The dry roads meant we could go driving on paths that are usually too muddy or flooded -- and as we were out driving, we saw a black bear! He lumbered along ahead of us for quite a ways along the road before crashing his way into the forest. Fortunately we were several miles from the cabins at that point. Right next to the cabins all we saw were hummingbirds, eagles, woodpeckers, loons, ducks, and a little red squirrel!

Oh, and the two little crawdads I caught by hand as we cavorted in the shallows right off the pier. And the leech I brushed off my foot. Rose was wary of the muck and rocks in the lake, but Joy could have played all day. She splashed and splashed...


... and climbed the pier and jumped back in, over and over.


She also figured out how to "swim" by walking on her hands in the shallow water, pulling her body along behind.

All that exercise could work up quite a thirst. One meal Joy was sitting next to me and reached over toward my share with a big "more"! The most likely desirables were the beverages -- a tumbler of milk and a bottle of beer. I poured her a little glass of milk, but she's been on an anti-milk kick lately and pushed it away after one sip. The comment came from across the table -- "Hey, maybe she wants your beer!" And from Joy, the explosive echo: "BEE!"

One of the great pleasures of the lake vacation is the photography. Rose now uses the old digital camera we got back when she was six months old:


She's learning to identify wildflowers as well as capture them in pixels. Here's a pink ladyslipper:


And I found and photographed a nodding trillium:


Ah, but I haven't yet shared the biggest adventure of all. Splashing by the shore was fun, but the real action involved the pontoon boat (thank you Uncle Marathon, and Uncle DO who couldn't be there this time!)


Take the boat out on the lake, anchor in about 20 feet of water, tighten up the girls' life-vests, and throw 'em overboard! OK, not really. We threatened to do it to Rose, but she shrieked and insisted on climbing gently down the ladder. Joy wouldn't have minded -- any way into the water was fine. Uncle Marathon was eager to take the plunge as well...



One one such swimming excursion, we were anchored a ways out in front of the cabin, about half-way between the pier and the eagle's nest. GrampaK had stayed behind at the cabin to take it easy. We were glad that he was in good enough health to come to the lake in the first place, but swimming wasn't part of that package. So the rest of us were out with the boat, just getting started, when suddenly GrampaK's voice came rolling out over the water, calling Uncle Marathon by name. And then these words, urgent and chilling:

Come. Home. Come home now!

And then silence.

[to be continued]

Random Tuesday Thoughts

JoyDad takes the wheel for a spin through a special Memorial Day Weekend edition of Random Tuesday Thoughts...

• We are blessed that Joy is a good traveler. I know some kids on the spectrum take exception to having their routines mangled by vacations and such, but Joy just seems to take it as it comes. She doesn't seem to mind the long car rides, strange places and stranger people (but hey, they are the only family I have...)


• A favorite activity for Joy this weekend was bubbles. Joy even tried popping them with her nose, which was too cute for words. And it is great to see her able to track individual bubbles with her eyes, and have repeated success in popping the bubble she is following.


• Another favorite activity for Joy was getting any available adult (and sometimes Rose) to help her to jump. And there were seven adults for her to choose from, so the opportunities were plentiful... She doesn't have a word for "jump," but she lets you know in no uncertain terms by coming up in front of you and grabbing both of your hands. She makes wonderful eye contact as she sails through the air, with a great big grin and squeals of delight.


• When she wasn't chasing bubbles or requesting the jump game, Joy also liked to play what we call the clap game. She'll put her hands on yours and make them clap. She does that a time or two, and then makes them miss with the other person saying a great, big "UH OH!"


• Rose loves going to the cabin. She didn't seemed fazed by the bugs, and spent a lot of time outside on the past-its-prime swingset and down by the pier. She is looking forward to telling her friends about it at school tomorrow. We printed out some pictures of key events (the restaurant meal in town the morning we arrived, the bald eagles nesting in a tree, the ride on her uncles' boat).



• The fish weren't biting but the bugs were. We took to describing the swarms of bugs as "biblical" in their epicness. And they must not have gotten the memo about how deet was supposed to repel them.


• Changing a tire on a large vehicle on soft sand is sub-optimal. The jack doesn't do a good job of staying put. But if you are going to drop said large vehicle onto its brake rotor, soft sand does less damage than pavement would. Don't ask us how we know...


• Have you ever tried changing a tire with about a gajillion gnats trying to suck every last drop of fluid from your body? Or chopping up a tree that has fallen on your garage while choking on a lungful of gnats? Let me tell you, you haven't lived until you've tried that. Bet you're jealous.


• Now that I think about it, I'd take using the outhouse when it's 20 below zero over the gnats any day, thankyouverymuch. Oh yes, I have used the outhouse at the cabin in the middle of the winter, with the outside temperature hovering around 20 below. Good times....


• Even with the bugs and lack of indoor plumbing, I'd still rather be there than here.


• JoyMama even managed to squeeze in a run on Sunday. She was smart and went early in the morning while there was still frost keeping the gnats at bay. Uncle Marathon and UncleDO wimped out. Although Uncle Marathon does get props for going swimming in the very cold lake.


• Hot and cold running water are not essential for humans to live. And it's nice to be reminded of what a luxury they are (especially the hot running water) by going without for a few days. I have partaken of the soap and hot running water since our return to civilization, so y'all can take the clothespins off your noses.


• Our cabin and lake in da U.P. are about the only things that have remained constant in my life. The lake still looks the same as it did when I was a wee lad, the cabin looks and smells just like it did way back then. I'm glad that JoyMama and the girls like to go up there, it holds a lot of memories for me, and hopefully there's a lot more left to be made...

Only She Who Is Running Knows

From the comedic genius of PDQ Bach, in his ground-breaking work Iphigenia in Brooklyn:

Oh God, who knows what it is
To be running?
Only he who is running... running... running... knows.
Running, running knows,
Run running knows, run running knows...!!!

Kleenex, anyone?

Any run outdoors in winter is going to involve Kleenex for me, and yesterday's 5K was no exception. It was a gorgeous day, though. The race started just after 11am, under bright-blue skies, temperature right around freezing, light winds, sunshine glistening on a 2-inch layer of snow that had fallen the night before. Most of the race was along cleared bike-path, so we were really only running on snowpack for a few blocks of city street.

The race was a lot bigger than my friends and I had expected. From past years' posted results, it looked like the usual turnout was around 120. This year? 430! I wonder how many registered same-day, once they saw what a nice day it was.

My personal goal was to run an 11-minute-mile pace, for a total time just over 34 minutes.

I ran it in 33:15, for a pace of 10:42, running all the way. I even had enough steam left to put on a bit of a sprint at the end, passing up the woman I'd been pacing behind for much of the race. I guess if you take off the ten seconds it took me to cross the start line, that's 33:05. Fastest I'd ever gone, even on the treadmill! I placed 383 of 430.

WOOO HOOOOOO!!

I enjoyed having friends along so we could share one anothers' excitement. The woman with whom I shared the Couch to 5K link back in November at the Women's Retreat had been training with her husband, and their two sons (10 & 13) came along for the run too, pretty much without training but they play soccer so they run well. All of us were happy with our times. The young'uns beat the pants offa me, but who's counting, right?

Then last night we all went over to their house for dinner. Joy was in a fine mood, ate well and sat happily at the dinner table for a long time, playing with the plastic from around the ice-cream carton while the rest of us talked. The 13-year-old entertained Rose very obligingly, without a hint of teenaged-guy-attitude. (Rose kept her own attitude in check as well, not complaining about the curry main dish but simply saying "No, thank you" as we had coached.)

Wow. Now I need a new running goal! Shave my 5K? Ten-minute miles, anyone? I wouldn't have believed it when I started...

One thing I failed to bring to the race was a camera. Here are some older running-related photos for your entertainment, though:


This photo from September 1991 was, if we're being picky and technical, my other first 5K. It was a fun-run/walk at a Mennonite Relief Sale, a fundraiser for international relief work. I had just finished a 2-year stint of Mennonite volunteer service in Chicago at the time, and a local pastor cobbled together a team with me and one of my former housemates and a couple other guys. I don't think I trained much if at all, and don't remember much about the race either. Like, I don't remember the starting gun, though I do have some flash memories of the actual running, including near the end when I was passed up by a race-walker! I didn't know enough to look at my time on the clock at the finish line, so I have no idea how fast I went (if they were posting times, I wouldn't have known where to ask anyway).


I wore the shirt again eleven years later, at the SCAATY Run in Chicago, September 2002 (Rose, hiding in the stroller, was seven months old). SCAATY stood for Still Crazy After All These Years, and was organized by Uncle Marathon in honor of his 20,000th mile running. Yes, you read that right. Twenty thousand. He'd been keeping logs since he started, something that I've now been talked into doing, and organized a run to invite friends and relatives to join him in running mile 20,000. It was a nice little bit of post-pregnancy training for me, just to get to the point of jogging a mile, and JoyDad and I had fun joining in the 20,000th mile run and festivities.

Don't worry, this isn't going to become a running blog. I might sneak in updates now and again, though.

P.S. Many thanks to Auntie RatM and Uncle Marathon for the tips and encouragement leading up to this race! Yes, I did start near the back, and double-tie my shoelaces!