The cold of winter is a great time to remember the warm days of summer. For us, summer means blueberries. Thanks to the fires in recent years, the berry plants are thriving. Greg especially enjoys picking, and goes as often as he can when the berries are ripe.
This year, just to keep things lively around here, we decided to set up a winter camp. Greg finished insulating the bread oven in the fall, and that makes it a lot more efficient for cold-weather use. We have a large canvas tent, so in December, our friend Ron came over to help put it up.
To insulate the floor, they spread a layer of straw, and then rolled out a piece of carpeting. Next, they retrieved our little woodstove, a Jotul 602 with a glass door. Nice to have a little ambiance and see the fire while warming up the tent. They got everything in place, and lit the fire. Within about a half-hour, it was toasty in there. In the photo, you can see our lack of snow at the time. Fortunately, we've seen a big improvement in that, and now even have snow to bank the lower sides of the tent.
We've been heating up the tent and the bread oven on Saturdays this month. From one to three in the afternoon, we are serving hot soup and warm, fresh bread to our guests, and anyone else who happens to ski on by. It's been a lot of fun, prompting some great conversation about the use of the tent, and imagining how it might be to go winter camping with one of these. I'm impressed by how comfortable it is, even when the wind is howling outside and the temperature is in the teens. I'm not much of a winter camper, because I don't like to be cold in the morning. With this, it would make it a lot easier.
Before Addie returned to school, we had dinner in the tent. I had acquired a Mongolian Firepot a couple of years ago, but hadn't tried it out. We prepared all of the meat and vegetables for it, and then set it up in the tent. The firepot dinner is a lot like fondue, except the food is cooked in a boiling broth rather than oil or cheese. We took turns throwing the food into the pot, and once cooked, we heaped it into our bowls. We finished the meal with noodles cooked in the broth. It was quite a tasty event.
The tent will be up for the rest of the winter, so if you are in our neck of the woods on Saturday afternoon, stop in to see what's in the soup pot and what has come out of the oven!
When the road finally has snowbanks...
And the trees are all frosted...
...it begins to actually feel like winter. Here we are, better than a month into this season, and it is starting to look like its usual self. Paul and I returned from a short road trip, and in our absence, six fresh inches of snow had fallen. Add that to the "roughly one foot" on the ground, and it becomes necessary to wear boots most of the time. It feels good.
Snow has been with us since Thanksgiving. It's just been skimpy. That's at least a little better than most of the state. But when it comes to the white flakes, I'm greedy. I'll take all that we can get, and more. Now that the depths are up around eighteen inches, I'm feeling a little more comfortable.
The weather has been mild, with only a brief spell down into the sub-zero temperatures. It seems that our snow falls when the thermometer is in the high twenties to low thirties. It's nice not having to bundle up, head to toe, with only a small space between hat and scarf to see out. And it makes for very comfortable skiing.
Addie and I had a chance to try out the Lonely Lake trail before her school break was over. It was in terrific shape. Paul had an adventure one day when he decided to snowshoe the South Rim, to the High Cliffs, and then he skied back on the Lonely Lake trail. Our guests have been out enjoying all the various trails, and reports come back that all is well.
On one final note in praise of winter, it always warms my heart to see our buddy Eduardo decked out like this:
Currently, we are awash in color....all of the vivid fall spectrum, to be more specific. Daily walks yield reds, oranges, purples, yellows and browns, from the top of the trees down to the forest floor. It's a wonderful time to be in the woods.
I've been able to get out in the mornings lately, to walk down our road. Earlier this month, I felt like fall was stalled. We were in a pattern of cold, rainy weather, and the leaves seemed determined not to change from their late-summer shade of green. Once the sun returned last Saturday, the painting of the forest began in earnest. Each day became a little brighter, from the color that was replacing those greens. The two birch trees at the northern corners of the lodge began to reflect a bright gold into the store. The moose maples exploded in reds and oranges. Even at dusk, when it would normally be feeling darker, the reflected light had a brighter spring in its step. The wonders of autumn.
We enjoyed a stretch of sunny, warm days, filled with the smells of the season. Temps made their way into the seventies, and we were fooled a bit. Then the wind switched, and came down from the north. Even when I am told that it is coming, it still takes me a little by surprise. Yesterday, it blew hard for several hours. Leaves flew down, like the rains that were also falling. Pine needles covered the road and the roof of our side porch. I was afraid that the fall showing would be completely decimated in one afternoon. Fortunately, the wind subsided by late in the day, and this morning, there was still plenty of action on the trees. Leaves are still in various stages of green to yellow, as I look down the hill to a poplar tree. The cedars hang heavy with seed pods gone brown. The underbrush was not buffeted by that wind, so most of the leaves are still in their places.
So the technicolor show will last a little longer, and my morning walks will continue to be bright and cheery. Not a bad way to end the wonderful summer and move into the inevitable time for hibernation, though not all of us will be hibernating. There's still work to be done! Firewood season is upon me.
Gunflint Trail cabins located on Gunflint Lake in Northern Minnesota. Secluded log cabins near to Boundary Waters Canoe Area.
