Life's a Party

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Today looks like this:

The sun is shining; the lake is relatively calm.  Water is still running down the hills from all of the rain that we had on Wednesday and Thursday.  The Morton Salt girl must have been in the neighborhood, because it truly did pour on us.  Such a welcome sight, given how dry we had gotten to be in this part of Minnesota.  At the end of it, the rain gauge was nearly brimming.

The weather threw one heck of a party on Thursday night.  The wind was 10-20 mph out of the west, and the waves went dancing.  I was laying in bed, listening to the waves beating against the shore, the boats, and the docks.  On Friday, the "furniture" was all rearranged.

It felt a little like the morning after, as we worked to right the scene.  Paul and I got into the water, while Greg manned the skidsteer.  Within a half-hour, the boats and ramps were higher on the beach, safe from whatever the lake was planning to dish out that day.  The wind did continue, making it a little difficult to be on the water.  Instead, it was a "By land..." day, as I like to call it, and we had several people stop in to the store.  When the wind kicks up like that, it's a good opportunity to take a drive and see what is down all the little roads in the neighborhood. 

It seems the bears felt that it was a good night to party, too.  At one moment, I thought that the pounding of water-on-boats had increased. This was near to midnight on Thursday.  I commented to Greg about it, and then we heard a crash.  "What was that?!" he asked.  It took just a second for me to put it all together in my sleep-laden head.  "Bears," was the answer.  Sure enough, a family had come to make their own party on our porch.  Greg went down and snapped on the porch light, to find Mama Bear had been busy.  First, she knocked over the garbage can where I normally store sunflower seeds for the winter birds.  The chickadees had finished the last of the seeds in April, and I had put the feeders into the can. Evidently, the scent still lingered, and that is what mama went for.

She must have been disappointed, but found some hope in a bag of grass seed that I had left nearby.  With the snap of the light, Greg caught her off guard.  She had the white sack in her mouth, as if she had just gone shopping and was carrying her grocery bag out.  Her jaw dropped in surprise, and the bag fell, scattering seed on the deck.  She took off down the steps.  Her three cubs, also in attendance, took leaps over the side of the porch, while Greg hollered at them.  Off they went, into the dark and stormy night.  They never returned to the lodge, but I did notice that Mama left her calling card outside of White Pine cabin.  I guess that it is officially summer, now that we have had a visit from these neighbors!

So it is wonderful to see a day with sunshine, and the lake in a quieter state.  The weather report predicts more rain for tonight and tomorrow, but we will make sure that the boats are on higher ground.  Greg says that the lake level seems to have come up another eight inches.  I heard that Bridal Falls is really roaring over its rocky edge.  Tonight we'll throw our own party, as I am firing up the bread oven and making pizza for everyone to enjoy.  Let the fun times begin--summer is here!

Early Taste of Summer

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For a brief time this week, spring moved offstage to let summer have a guest appearance.  The days had been growing progressively nicer, but the evenings were still cooling off as they do in this season.  The sunshine has been making the flowers and leaves pop out.  Take, for example, this intrepid little forget-me-not, who found it quite to its liking to bloom forth through the holes of our dock ramp.  We are all feeling that renewed energy that the sun can bring each day.

On Friday, the weather forecast had spilled the beans on the foretaste of summer, so we knew to expect temps in the seventies.  By afternoon, it was nearing eighty.  We had some southerly winds, so the lake was a bit breezy, but not too rough.  It was perfect porch weather--dinner and relaxing on the screen porch, watching the lake and enjoying the company.  Saturday gave us a repeat performance, but we did get some work done, too. 

It was Trash and Treasures Day on the Trail.  We didn't formally participate this year, but we took advantage of the moment and did some more general clean out.  It's amazing what one can find buried below the surface of dead leaves and twigs.  Old piles of stuff were found and discarded, and our buildings became a wee bit lighter.  This ritual of spring-clean out will be a forever task here at Heston's, as we sift through the collections of several generations.  Some things will stay merely because they belong to the Lodge, and not to any of us indiviually.  Old friends used to say that it looked like the northern branch of the Cook County Historical Society out on our workshop.  Now that the Trail has its own Historical Society, there actually is a definite location for treasured objects to live.  Speaking of the Gunflint Trail Historical Society, the Chik Wauk Museum will open its doors for the season on May 26.  Be sure to plan some time while you are here, to go and enjoy this little gem up on Saganaga.

It's been a good week for the loons to be trolling along on Gunflint Lake.  I watched one morning as this bird and its mate went swimming past the dock.  They were aware of my presence, but they still chose to stay in close proximity.  So close, in fact, that when they submerged for yet another underwater rendezvous, I could see their silhouettes, spotted black and white, as they slid through the calm waters.  What a sight that was!  I tried to snap a photo of it, but my eye was kinder than the camera's lens.  In the last few days, I've only seen one loon out front.  Perhaps this means that someone is minding a nest nearby?

Today we turned chilly again, but that was fine since the change brought much needed rain with it.  We started last night with thunder and lightning storms, and the concern that there wasn't enough rain to quell any potential fires from striking bolts.  But as the night wore on, the fireworks subsided, and left behind lots of drops of water.  It seems as though we received at least an inch or more (unofficially), and certainly enough for me to plant seeds this week in damp soil, not barren dry ground.  It's looking to be a good growing season ahead.  We are grateful.

The Alaska Journal

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Flying to Denali

In the past, I heard from people who had visited Alaska that it can be difficult to get a clear view of the big mountain Denali.  The lower portion might be easy to see, but the peak is often obscured by clouds.   Some folks will wait for days and days to see it clear, others simply have to give up for lack of time.  With three weeks in our schedule, I figured that I would have a fair shot at seeing it.  Itwas more than fair to me.

Our first weekend in Anchorage, while exploring in Kincaid Park and downtown, we could see the mountain way off to the north.  One sign said that it was 131 miles away.  I didn’t know that I could see that far!  But if you are as big as a mountain, you can proudly sit and be seen from a long ways off.

The next day, Greg’s cousin asked if we would like to go flying with them, to either the ski area called Girdwood, or up to Talkeetna.  Greg jumped at the chance to go to Talkeetna.  It is a small town east of Denali National Park, and it was a destination on my list. Little did I know that I would get to go there by plane rather than car.  We took off about mid-day, and soon we were flying over the river, headed right towards the mountain.  Once again we had sunshine and clear skies, and as we flew closer, the peak was definitely there for us to see.

 

We flew up Ruth Glacier, and Rob let Greg take over the plane as co-pilot.  Heather and I kept snapping pictures, trying to get the next best one, unable to stop clicking shutters.  We floated along as the snowy glacier below us grew narrower, and soon the edges of surrounding mountains were creeping up on us. 

Rob advised Greg that we would not be able to actually go around the mountain, since the plane could not reach the elevation necessary.  So he told him a good spot to turn around, and Greg carefully steered us back down the glacier bed.  Then Rob took over, and as we went down, he decided to take a shortcut through a pass.  It was breathtaking to be sneaking our way between jagged rock and snow, feeling like we could reach out and touch the mountain walls so close to the wings. 

Rob skillfully guided us through, and soon we were headed the short distance to Talkeetna.

 The plane landed on the strip in town, and Rob parked it near the other small aircraft.  I’d never been to an airplane parking lot before!  We took the short walk to town, and passed a couple who were just returning to the airport.  It was like a Sunday afternoon destination, much the same way as taking a drive along the North Shore to a state park.  We had lunch and explored some shops, watched as the train came to town, and then walked back for the return flight home to Anchorage.

 When we landed in the city once again, I told Rob that, while my life did not pass before my eyes at anytime, I could easily say that the adventure was one of the most exhilarating things that I had ever experienced.  We had seen moose from the air, a small caravan of snowmobiles, many isolated cabins on the river, and incredible views of Denali.  Could it get much better than this?