Tuscarora Lodge and Outfitters News

Pond Sakting

2009-12-02T11:03:00.003-06:00

Hooray! We've starting skating.

The tradition marks the new season. Really, we're so anxious we almost jump the gun on this--but the moose pond by the mailbox isn't so deep. It’s dark by the time the kids get off the bus, get a snack, tie on their skates. Somehow the darkness and the cracking ice increase the thrill. But pretty soon we fall into silence, with only the sounds of the skates cutting and scraping the black ice, (well, along with the cracking) and we go on and on and on. We can just barely make out the line of the trees in this darkest time of the year.

I think about last spring, when the trumpeter swans were considering nesting here---for 3 weeks or so. And the moose come and go all summer, with unpredictable regularity. For awhile a beaver family lived here, and one quiet evening when Shelby and I stopped our bikes, I think we could hear the kits inside the beaver lodge.

But the other night, we seemed to be the only life around.

We tried to ignore the creaks, or at least not squeal much. We’re risking thigh high mud, which would be plenty unpleasant, but not like lake ice. We got braver and braver, and ventured further outside our previous tracks, before we finally quit for dinner.
We’re anxious to get on Round Lake, but conditions aren’t actually perfect, and there is still some open water out the Brant Lake way. The shoreline by us has frozen, with some snow. A braver woman would be out there shoveling, but---I’ll give it a few more days!

Melancholy Gray

2009-11-24T15:47:00.010-06:00

It's late autumn, and it has been rainy gray for two days. When I drive the car out to the bus, it's so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. It's a poignant ache, and it gets me, like listening to Barber's Adagio for Strings.

Remember in Kindergarten, when your favorite color was one of the things that defined you? What kid ever picks brown? They know to stay away from it...it doesn't exactly mean happy days. It's rich and beautiful, especially as a skin color.... but not for flowers and rainbows.

So, for awhile I tried fighting this late autumn gray mood. I take Fish Oil pills, Dave says they make happy chemicals in the brain. And Mary says Vitamin D gives a little substitute sunny boost, so, I pop some of those too. I have a friend that takes her “team” for long runs through the woods, and it’s starting to grow on me. I don’t run fast, but I try not to fall down too much and it’s such a nifty trick to move through the woods without a canoe on my shoulders, I can go for long distances and I feel like a little jack rabbit. Love that, but the speediness is certainly an illusion. Oh boy is that an illusion.

But, I've given up the fight. I'm not unhappy, but I can’t be sunniness when the season is so tinged with melancholy. We’re just too connected to the outside here---. So, I'm leaning into the rain. It's working for me. I sit quietly at the edge of the overlook at the end of my solo trail and watch the fog. The days are short, the light is diffused. But it is so very quiet and incredibly lovely.

Writer Parker Palmer says that the seasons are a metaphor for life, and--yep, that might fit. The brown dormancy of the plants-remind me of death and endings. He says, truth is revealed through the paradoxes. That the contrast paints the whole picture. On first glance, light and dark seem like opposites, but actually they define each other. Death defines life, diminishment defines beauty.
Does this mean the dreary days enhance and define the cheerful sunny ones? And so it is with my life? In the sunny summer when my days are full, there is no time to look up from my life. These late November days are slower, quieter, more contemplative, I spend more time catching up with Andy and the kids. And--this contrast helps me paint a complete picture?

Today I walked off the access road---now that the grasses are dead, it's easy to check on the little pines that we planted last spring during Gunflint Green Up. Those little guys are liking the rain. Then I remembered how the plants use autumn to scatter seeds, and so they prepare for the seasons ahead.

The fleeting snow buntings that flock ahead of my car are like bird ghosts in the fog. I don't know what they represent, but they play chicken with me, and I can't swerve away or I'll end up in the ditch... on the rare occasion when one is too slow, and it pops my windshield--I hate that. What would that mean Parker???

And the people in sunny-always Arizona, how do they fit in the contemplation? What would their metaphor be? If I ever meet Parker Palmer, I'm asking him.

In the meantime, I'm ready for snow now. Cheerful fluffy crisp blue days. It's time for deep winter. I say, bring it on~!

Run

2009-11-16T10:28:00.013-06:00

Know what happens when we live in the woods and our kids like sports? Same thing that happens to parents everywhere....we drive around and watch sporting events...we meet the bus late at night....we wash a lot of sweaty clothes.

Only I'm betting we drive just a little bit more.

Shelby and Daniel both run, so this fall we spent much time with the cross country team. You can't tell me that kids don't know how to work these days---I continued to be impressed by the stampedes of runners on golf courses and through woods--digging deep, entering what they call "the pain cave," setting goals, cheering each other on.

Last weekend, the girls team (and one very speedy Kieran) competed in the State Tournament.

A whole pack of Cook County/Two Harbors kids and parents trekked down to the cities--and then on Saturday to St. Olaf College for the State Meet.

It was 75 and sunny--perfect for spectating. .
My nephew Tommy showed us his dormroom, and he was looking very happy, connected relaxed. The fancy cafeteria, the climbing wall, the pick-up ultimate frisbee game in the commons, the cozy coffeshop where students and profs were having academic discussions. I get it, they could have recruited me. I'm still hooked.

The Cook County/Two Harbors kids ran their hearts out, they didn't win the meet, but I was proud of them for making it there.

As we walked past the dorms I once lived in, back to the car that was parked not far from the former trailer court where my newlywed parents once lived , I felt a strange sense of the circle of life. My kids were picturing college lives for themselves, and I'm hoping they consider many options, but...it is so lovely and familiar, I'm afraid it might snare one or both of them.

In the meantime, we sure had a great weekend.

Morning Wolf Encounter

2009-11-06T09:44:00.005-06:00

Daylight Savings time is great. Today I woke up easily at 5:30 am. I had a half an hour to pull myself together before the kids got up, and Denali and I were ready to run from the bus stop. We got to Warrens road, all was sunshine and light, she pounced off into the brush while I cranked the music on my headset.

Off I went with the Best of the Carpenters, feeling energetic like I am 11 years old, singing loudly "son of a gun, we'll have big fun, on the bayou." ( note....*I was smart enough not to admit to knowing the words of the nerd songs back in 5th grade, I figure I'm AOK alone in the woods now.)

Then I looked up and into the eyes of two of the most beautiful huge wolves I've ever seen. They were trotting down the road and they stopped, tails up, to look at me. I stopped singing (but Karen Carpenter continued in my ears), my jaw dropped. They were mostly white, with gray saddles, and they stared at me calmly for awhile. Like maybe they were sizing up my spandex and bright red sweatshirt thinking "predator, prey, or what ???"

I was sort of embarrassed for a second. They were so cool, and I was such a.....gaper (from the vocabulary of my friend Toby--working at Keystone one winter...for the well dressed loud novice Texans)
Then I hollered for my oblivious bounding domesticated lab. And the wolves dissolved into the woods--where they obviously rule.

We had a great run, you know, on top of the world looking down on creation. Only once Denali flushed a grouse and it flew straight at my head (just like the owls on the Harry Potter movies) so that I had to duck. We got back to the part where the wolves had been, and I could tell by the way Denali ran in circles sniffing the road, with her dander up, that they were still around. I tried to be really still and scan the woods for a horizontal line in the distance---I tried to move my head only after my eyes led the way, like a deer hunter, like a predator. But I didn't see them. So I shrugged, and headed back to the car.

Denali and I love it on that road. But those regal white strong monster wolves reminded me that those woods are clearly not OUR terriotry.

Sunny Day Sky

2009-11-05T19:42:00.003-06:00

Ahhhh.

November days--dark and dreary

2009-11-04T20:47:00.004-06:00

I faintly remember a poem that my grandpa used to recite--by Longfellow. Something about all lives needing days that are dark and dreary.

But good grief, enough is enough. When the kids and I walked out to the car this morning Shelby mentioned that it was hard to remember the sun. It's true---it seems like we've had thick clouds forever.

We took a stark walk this afternoon. The woods are silently beautiful in a deserted sort of way.

Maybe we do need November days, dark and dreary--maybe we ought to savor them.

Grand Marais Halloween

2009-11-01T20:22:00.008-06:00

We moved to the middle of the woods just when my kids were in elementary school--prime Halloween age. It was one of those things we considered seriously, along with the long bus ride, the cousins, Brueggers Bagels, the Hollydazzle parade… “is this worth giving up?” Funny how decisions are---because try as I might to weigh it all carefully, we can never know exactly what we're getting either…who could have known?
It’s definitely a Grand Marais event, where the action is. The kids aren’t really prime Halloween age—but what I’m appreciating about this small town—it seems that they’re welcome to trick-or-treat until they’re done. They can ease out of it—it’s no big sea change, no age threshold. Wear a costume or not—no pressure. A whole bunch of them went out for the walk, but several of them didn’t collect candy. Or picked up a lollipop on the way, for the blustery walk where they recognize people left and right. Where the cop turns on the siren and speaker to say---"you there....do you want some candy?"
Some came back early for ping-pong. Anything goes. I like these kids. Lucky. Nice night.

I didn't walk. I guess it's time to admit, that when some of them are in highschool, they really don't need me to walk along. So, we hung with the adults, and they're OK too. Here's Shelia, the Stimulus Package, who won the adult cleverness award in my book.

It wasn’t my house, but I did leap to the door often enough to pass out treats. My MOST favorite kids were the ones who---for the first time, were realizing that it's a candy free-for-all. I figure comprehension hits about age 3. They get it, they get to keep it, it’s CANDY, it’s pure magic. I vaguely remember that feeling, but maybe it’s even more fun to witness—check out this little blond witch. Could she be any cuter?

This one little guy, couldn’t contain himself, because he got to CHOOSE his candy. All that were left when he arrived were the tootsie rolls. He had his two pieces but he kept standing there. He kept staring at the dish and having these little excitement tremors. I said “do you see another one you like?” He said—“Yes! With a little leap….I see a lellow one”….I said “Guess what? You can have that lellow one!” and then he did a big leap and looked at his dad and said “I CAN HAVE THE LELLOW one too!!!”
I’m a push over. He wasn’t my kid, I didn’t have to teach him limits or how to say thank you or anything like that. I was just going for the leap and delight about FREE CANDY. I found him a red tootsie roll too.

Here’s hoping you witnessed at least one Halloween 3 year old this year.

Wendell Berry

2009-10-21T12:44:00.004-05:00

The other day Anna (former staff ) met Wendell Berry. Even though wasn't my experience, I was excited about that, because I think he's AWESOME, and I also thought he was dead. She wrote: no... he is very much alive. Brilliant, gracious, humble, and genuine are the words that come to mind...

Have you discovered him? He's an author/farmer. Here's one of my favorites---He just hits my nail on the head when he says stuff like "I rest in the grace of the world, and am free." Such an elegant gift to be able to put together the same simple words so uniquely, so perfectly capturing my experiences...

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
- Wendell Berry, Openings: The Peace of Wild Things

October Fun

2009-10-18T07:30:00.006-05:00

The kids were off school for MEA weekend--we had a little family hiking shindig....and spent an October afternoon on the trail. For awhile it snowed big beautiful heavy flakes over the yellow trees. Great moment.

We found stuff, and the Cceaster carefully replaced the artifacts, of course.

Please note that Lars isn't actually foaming at the mouth--it was a whipped cream chubby bunnies moment.

Later, during the pumpkin carving, I was feeling nostalgic about these kids growing up, lucky that they are so entertaining, glad that they let us adults in, so we can still be part of the party.

I'd just like to point out the pumpkin on the right---Kieran carved with the intentional lazy eye, maybe in honor of Abraham Lincoln or maybe some other notable lazy-eyed person, or maybe not.

Larch Trees

2009-10-15T09:49:00.008-05:00

Before I moved to the Gunflint Trail, I'm not sure I could have even identified a Tamarack. Or known why they called Larch Creek, Larch Creek.

This time of year, I can't take my eyes off of them..especially when the October sky is so blue and they are such a unique yellow. I wish I could capture them, or better yet, I wish you could see them. I wonder if there is a crayon color called Tamarack?

Centennial Hiking Trail

2009-10-13T15:03:00.012-05:00

Hey! We've got a splendid new hiking trail that connects our Round Lake Road to the Kekakabic trail and then back around to make a 3.3 mile loop .

A volunteer crew of former smoke jumpers helped the Forest Service with the project in early September.

Andy and I knew one of the volunteers. Retired smoke jumper Jim Cherry was once director of Wilderness Canoe Base, on Seagull Lake. He was before my time, but that Wilderness community is a far reaching clan; which means there are lots of overlapping people between Jim and me (including Andy).

Jim’s kids also went to my Mpls Washburn High (may she falter never). But really, the reason I feel so fond of Jim falls back to the story of 3 Vietnamese brothers—refugees that stayed with my family for awhile after Saigon fell.

I think I was about 12, they were young adults (high school/college) who worked for Jim that first summer in the US. Incidentally those 3 guys and their families are still part of our ‘extended’ family, and they are remarkable world citizens, but that’s another story. (And I won’t even get INTO the egg rolls)

At age 12, I couldn’t begin to appreciate the kind of grief they experienced upon leaving their beloved family and country. But after a summer at WCB, it was obvious that Jim Cherry stepped up, and was a surrogate father type. And because I love them, I was always grateful to Jim for that.

You might call this experience the Transitive Property of Families---If A is linked to B and B is linked to C, then A is linked to C. And THAT is the roundabout story of why I give bright orange Jim Cherry a hug when I see him.

There was obviously some similar type of camaraderie among this group.

These smoke jumpers share a bond. They’ve fought in different battles, but they’re on the same team. Here are 3 of them---from the left Tom (also retired DNR official), Jim Cherry(retired Lutheran minister), and Jack (retired surgeon). Definitely they’ve had powerful experiences. Tom tried to describe the connection that he feels when he meets fellow smoke jumpers--like they're old friends already--made of the same sort of mettle.

I believe they offer their volunteer services in many different venues, but this September, we were the beneficiaries. Eleven of them joined forces with the USFS---- worked hard and fast, and cleared the way.

Around here, Andy and I refer to it as Tom Kaffine’s trail. Tom is the local USFS ranger. I don’t know exactly what his current title is—but he’s the woods expert. He's paddled here forever, and he knows all of the secret places. Come to think he rarely ever TELLS his secrets. But he's been around.

If you came to his Becoming a Boundary Waters Family presentation at Tuscarora this summer, you’d have seen some 20 year old pictures of the railroad bed, old cabins and treasures, and a younger Tom Kaffine. The Ham fire in 2007, cleared the way, and made it easier for Tom to explore and flag a hiking trail. He took his idea to the Forest Service to do whatever it is that has to be done to approve of a trail like this. I suspect that was no small task. It seems to me when they are managing property that belongs to 300 million people of the United States, they have to manage at least a few conflicting opinions with every step.

At any rate—the Centennial Trail follows the Port Arthur railroad bed that once connected the Paulson Mine (on the Kekekabic Trail) to Thunder Bay. I believe the train made one run….and if you are curious about details, we’re hoping Tom Kaffine will have a chance to crystallize some of his knowledge into some sort of interpretive source, someday...soon.

Until then—come and explore this lovely trail…still a little rough in places (which is why they hesitate to call it done)—but a great hike! It starts at the beginning of the Kekakabic Trail and cuts off about 1.2 miles in, and loops around to the Round Lake Road, and back to the Kek Trail parking lot.

October BWCA Camping

2009-10-10T07:58:00.005-05:00

With the fall colors peaking--we had to sneak in a little overnight while we could. It was wonderful!

We were glad to wake up at home this morning----this time of year you never know quite what you're going to get.

Rocks

2009-10-01T08:41:00.007-05:00

(All photos courtesy of Mark Jirsa)

Let's just put it out here....geology is one of the last things I ever wanted to study in college. For a time Shelby was planning to grow up to be a geologist --so I tried. We bought The Rock Picker's Guide to Lake Superior, and we'd attempt to identify the rocks---but I also brought some hammers and safety glasses for Daniel..and then we'd end up trying to find geodes and really just smashing up all the rocks we could. Or we'd pull out the glue and paint and take away sculptures...I'm sad to say, we were high impact amateur geologists. But let me tell you, we sure could chug.

This summer, Geologist Mark Jirsa brought University students to travel to Bingshick and study the rock formations ---apparently it is a geologist's dream out there. He chose that lake because he said there were rocks from 3 major time periods in history--and he was looking for some specific junction, revealed by the fires of years past. I was politely curious. But that guy has a passion for this stuff, and it's fairly contagious. He identified some sort of junction this year on Bingshick--something that proved a theory that he's had for 10 years--about rocks from different time periods (and maybe this photo illustrates that, and maybe it doesn't---)... but now he has proof. Pretty soon, I was enthused right there with him--in part because it's fun to see someone so zealous about his work, and in part because he kindled my interest---in rocks.

So, when he was giving a presentation last week--on the nearby Gunflint Narrows Road, we all arranged to go.

In May of 2007, the Ham Lake Fire foiled Mark's geology field trip to Seagull Lake. The closest he was allowed to go that week was the Narrows Road. So he started exploring--and made an important discovery---evidence of a meteorite that hit the earth in Sudbury Canada. The event sent the earth into a nuclear winter---1.85 billion years ago.

We saw some braccia formations; layers rock that was broken and stirred up as a result of the shock waves. It seems there are several local fire places made of that stuff. These braccia formations were made from rock already here, but we also looked at ejecta---the lappilli formations made from rock ejected upon impact (apparently not part of the monster meteorite--which vaporized from all that energy)
The pea shaped lappilli were formed because the tremendous energy and material ejected into clouds---like hail stones are created during a thunderstorm.... "stone hail" was formed during that event, and some of them rained over the Gunflint Lake area. (Stefan came up with the term stone-hail--and we thought that was clever)

At any rate---it appears to be a significant geological discovery right here, and I've got to credit Mark for making that snippet in time, almost 2 billion years ago, come alive for me. And I'll also admit, my hike yesterday was enriched by the curiosity about the rock formations I noticed. Hoping he'll be back again, and if you have the chance to hear him, you might want to take it-even if you think you might not be interested!

Reinforcements

2009-09-25T09:05:00.004-05:00

We still have folks coming to take advantage of our September summer (I understand that it was warmer than July) but the stream of guests has narrowed to a trickle.

When we realized that steady Jen would be the only staff person left this month, we put out a call for reinforcements. I kept reassuring her that we would find her friends-- and they came. Now they've gone, and on this cloudy thundering morning I'm reflecting on all they gave us this fall. My parents, Stefan, Lindsay, Andy, Mary, Anna---

First of all, they left very tangible evidence in their wake--clean tents, piles of laundered bedding and curtains, an ordered tidy canoe yard, folded sunned, dried packs and life jackets.....blueberry pies and banana bread, freshly painted floors, clean gutters, cleared trees--and I'm still finding evidence of Mary who can fold fitted sheets like I can't.

But less tangible and maybe more significant would be the meals, with the spicy and lively conversation, the laughing, the evening Stefan told his star stories to all of us as we lay on the dock (he's a guru), the DEEEP discussions with Anna as we were hiking, --- just the overall positive infusion of energy.

My heart swells with gratitude for our constantly growing extended family, and as they leave here with cracked scrubbed hands--they also leave a little part of themselves with us. Even though we feel a tug of emptiness when they drive away, still we feel full from the echoes of their goodwill, and knowledge that sometime, they'll be back.

Morning Visitor

2009-09-22T08:49:00.003-05:00

Do you suppose the wolves we heard howling so close at 6am alarmed her? It seems like usually they wait for moose hunting season to take refuge in our yard.

She had such a Denali face, I wish I could have captured it----

Beautiful September

2009-09-21T22:32:00.004-05:00

What a month....The sunny days are in the high 70's...last night we paddled out on Seagull for a picnic l-6 of us plus Denali---Daniel even went swimming. It's September, did I mention that?

There are pockets of blueberries that are better picking than ever. It's strange---but we'll take it!

From First Timer to Old Timer by Michael Hyde

2009-09-12T21:43:00.005-05:00

On most of my drives and tows I get asked a lot of similar questions, such as “Where are you from?” and “How did you come to find a job like this?” With my answer of being from a small town in Southwest Iowa and I found the job on the Iowa State online Job Board I am asked another question. “So..you have been up here before right?” When I answer them saying that this is my first time ever in the Boundary Waters, I get a different reaction every time it seems. Sometimes I get a confused look and others they are more excited for me working here for the summer than they are excited to go out on their trip.
There was one drive that I remember specifically, I don’t quite recall their last name but it was a man and his wife that I had just picked up from Poplar, and was bringing them back to Tuscarora. When I was asked those three questions, the wife was so happy for me, she had a smile from ear to ear. She told me how much she loves going on these trips and being up here for a week, she couldn’t imagine how much fun it would be to live here for the summer.
It took that group for me to realize where I really am. I am in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area, people from all over the United States come here to vacation and I have gotten the privilege to work here for the summer. I have made so many new friends and acquaintances that I wouldn’t have even dreamed of making. This area has some of the nicest and most polite individuals I have ever met. I had no idea that I would have this type of experience being here at Tuscarora. I tell people that I was just looking for something new and different when they ask why I chose to work here. That is exactly what I got.
I didn’t have much canoeing experience before coming to work at Tuscarora. But, when I leave here I will leave with more knowledge than most people gain in a lifetime. I can’t even fathom the idea of not coming back up here, not necessarily only to work, but just to enjoy the experience and the wilderness. There is hardly anything else like this in the world, and I wake up to it everyday. I consider myself a very lucky individual to have gotten this chance to help the Ahrendt family continue their tradition of running great Outfitter. I have had multiple groups tell me that would recommend Tuscarora to anyone, not only for the equipment, but also for their hospitality and kindness.
I will never forget this summer, there have been so many things happen to me that I don’t think it would be possible to forget it. I have new friends that I plan on staying in touch with and they have made an impact on me more than anything else has this summer. Everyone up here is awesome and I can’t even think about not staying in touch. With a number of returning staff members each year, it is hard to think that this isn’t a great place. No one would keep coming back to a place that they didn’t love. I will always keep my memories from Tuscarora, through pictures and stories. I look forward to coming back here in the years to come.

(click on the photo below in order to see Mike up on the top of the cliff---far right)

Sue's Note: Staffer Mike sent in these reflections from Iowa the other day. Maybe you can appreciate what an honor it is for us to share our summers with these good young people.

Double Dutch

2009-09-02T16:19:00.003-05:00

I went to school in the city, with desegregation and diverse playgrounds. Sometimes I hung with a group of girls who could REALLY jumprope. We usually played “Queen Bee” --a sort of tag/follow the leader game in and around the jumprope and the twirlers. I could compete, but I was rarely “Queen Bee.” When they did Double Dutch—with two ropes at once----they twirled so that you could hardly see the ropes…and their feet danced so fast—it was SOMETHING. And my feet---not speedy enough, sometimes close, but my awkward whitegirl form was enough to send them into peals of laughter. It wasn’t quite as pathetic as it sounds—and they weren’t exactly cruel. I think they sort of admired that I was willing to look like such a fool. But they were doubled over, in an almost-wet-your-pants kind of laughter. Some days I played kick ball with the boys, and I wasn’t the queen bee over there either, but I could catch the kickball, so they let me play. And sometimes I played this tag game on the manhole covers, back by the school power plant. I remember some nasty fights at that school, and it was a little bit of a jungle of tough playground politics, but I’m sort of proud of that goofy looking freckled girl with crooked glasses that was me. I learned to manage just fine, and it was just OK.

15 years later, I found myself after school one day jump roping with other teachers in the gym. There…I learned Double Dutch! So very empowering! I LOVED it that I could do it. (maybe still my form would have set Charlene and Shirley and the others off, I’ve long since lost track of them). It wasn’t even that hard. I vowed that my children were going to learn Double Dutch…. and their friends…. and my nieces and nephews. Kind of a mission…

So here at Tuscarora, in the basket by the Trading Post, there are two jumpropes. If you want, I’ll teach you. I’ll bet you can do it…just check out Mike. Would you have believed it? Shelby can even dribble the basketball at the same time. But most of us aren’t exactly graceful, speedy, or doing the magic dance that those girls at Field School could do. But we can do Double Dutch, and we manage just fine.

Meet the Staff

2009-08-18T06:13:00.008-05:00

Maggie:
When Maggie applied for this job, I sent Cass and Linsday to recruit her heavily through facebook---I knew she’d be a hard worker, and I was right. Her snappy assertive feistiness brightens up the place for all of us. Maggie knows how to laugh loudly at life. If you have visited, perhaps you’ve heard her laugh from the crew cabin, or coming off the lake when she’s fishing.

Mike: It's really fun to hear how excited Mike gets about Pizza Ranch. He always wears a hat with a fish hook in it, he's a trustworthy towboat driver, and we’re very fond of him. And what makes us laugh? Oh, say when he’s complaining about a mouse in the boys dorm. “Do you keep any food in there?” we were asking as we were figuring a solution. “Oh NO…says Mike. Just a few snacks…” He’s been in competition with Daniel all summer over fishing, and who knows what else.

Caitlin

It is very comforting to have Caitlin's little voice at the other end of the walkie talkie whenever we need someone in the Trading Post. Mostly though, I love to watch for the jokes that appeal to her. Here’s one the other day: What did the urologist say to his patient? You’re in trouble. Good joke, —but the really funny part is to watch her crack up. Caitlin came from Palmer Alaska, and I think she could get into it with Paul about her former governor, but she just makes little side comments with snappy eyes. And laughs at the ironic stuff.

Justin (a.k.a shnookums): Justin makes lots of pies, and I really like that in a guy. He’s incredibly talented…no matter what he does. So he throws his creative competence this summer into searing the beef just perfectly, then adding a little ginger and baking it, so it is absolutely tender. We're so lucky to have him---I wish you all a Justin--but we'll keep ours as long as we can.

Andrew has arguably had the most wildlife encounters of all of us because he often ran the snowmobile trail---my favorite story was of the grouse chasing the bear (and I actually believe it). Andrew and I took a very pleasant tow boat ride at dusk, to bring a new canoe to an unfortunate camper group in July. It did my heart good to see him so thrilled with the BWCA…so appreciative of the subtle majesty of Saganaga on a calm summer evening.

Jen is a good sport about life. Pretty much game for anything, steady, cheerful, pleasant, rugged, optimistic. She has many stories and experiences, and she’ll shrug and tell you, if you ask (like...did you know she was in the Air Force?) She’ll go blueberry picking or portage anywhere or hike or camp or….

Lindsay is particular about perfect food packing, and Tuscarora guests benefit. We try to have her review her tidy packs with the clients. For one, she’s good at it, and knows how to steam the buscuits just perfectly, or to mix the corn so carefully packed with the Turkey Wild rice. But another reason; after I’ve unloaded the pack, it looks as though 3 packs have just exploded, and how am I going to get all that stuff back in, in perfect order, so these people can eat their way to the bottom of the food pack? Linsday's blogs probably convey her enthusiasm for the northwoods best---or, ask her about the moose she ran into on the way to the crew cabin in the mist, or the baby grouse she saw…she’ll light up and animate her way through those stories too! Stay tuned--in her future is a small business---"Lindsay's gormet camping food" or something catchier...

Sarah came here from Pennsylvania. As her why? She’ll just shrug. She’s spent the summer figuring out what Minnesota-nice really means, and wondering why nobody takes the last piece of pie. Here she’s recycling peanut butter tubs into a trap. Very creative, but I don’t think the Minnesota minnows fell for it.

Cass:

Here’s the thing, when someone is genuinely empathetic as Cass is, you want to go ahead and tell her everything. They should have sent her to Guantanamo Bay from the get go, because I think she knows all that goes on within say…a 30 mile radius of the OG dorm. Honestly, everytime she leaves I think "Oh no, what are we going to do without Cass?" Lucky for us, she comes back---this is her 5th summer...and we're working on next year.

Paul

Well, our secret is that Paul runs outfitting and Cass runs housekeeping, and so together...they could run all of Tuscarora. We think that Louisiana winters and Minnesota summers could make for a real nice life. I have a soft spot for Paul, and all he does around here, and how he internalizes the whole place with high standards. On first glance you might misread a southern crotchetiness, but can’t you see the twinkle in his intelligent eyes through his beard? That’s why my kids are drawn to him---that’s why I want to ask him what he’s thinking about what news he's just studied. Stay tuned, because Paul owes me a blog, and I know he's good for it.

So there they are...I think I was stalling on staff introductions, hoping that they would never actually leave....but they will...and we miss them already. We're ever so grateful that they've made us a part of their lives this summer.

We love our summer staff

2009-08-13T17:20:00.005-05:00

It's that time of year again....when we're all scooting around trying to take care of everyone and everything....and when I hear these guys outside the outfitting window...stopping whatever task that they are doing to answer questions, or help someone so kindly---it gives me a little lump in my throat. We're SO lucky to be surrounded by such good people---and if you ever feel a little bleak about the younger generation, come and hang out with us for a few days. These guys will fuel your optimism. They're awesome.

This year, I've particularly noticed how lucky we are that these people are modeling young adulthood for our kids. They know how to work and they know how to play....Daniel was sitting on my bed the other night explaining his ideas about work to me. I was doing my darndest to keep my eyes open....it seems in the summer, chatting time comes after 10:30 pm. So---I give it a good shot. Anyway---he's explaining about scrubbing lifejackets with a young friend of his (who was feeling a little less enthusiastic about the whole thing). And he said---well Mom, if I don't do it right, then Paul is just going to have to do it all over again. What a waste of time. So I figure, either I do the job right, or I might as well just go fishing. Almost as eloquent as Ben Franklin---and this, he learned from the staff---as he spends good chunks of time working with them. Tomorrow, I'll introduce you to each one...

Sometimes, it's all about the sunsets

2009-08-11T14:43:00.004-05:00

photo by TomYounger

Pike eats Walleye

2009-08-11T11:21:00.005-05:00

Thanks to Tom Younger for sharing some of his trip photos. If you click on this photo, you might get a good visual of what it means to "bite off more than you can chew."

Tom's Fish

2009-08-04T17:59:00.005-05:00

Get a load of Tom's smile...he had one productive half hour on one productive lake!
....They even left us one--because they couldn't eat them all. Lucky us!

Triathlonnin'

2009-07-27T11:19:00.011-05:00

Last week we hosted the 5th annual Tuscarora Triathlon. It's unofficial really, originally just for a little afternoon activity for the staff here.....and it has morphed into an event for Tuscarora friends, neighbors, guests, other staff members too, maybe about 40 or 50 people this year. Actually, anyone is welcome.

The Course:
Start from Tuscarora beach and swim to the Round Lake landing (we're guessing that would be an unofficial half mile).
Then, bike from there, do a lap around the outfitting yard back to the landing, and then back to Tuscarora (a very HILLY unofficial 3 miles).
Then run from Tuscarora to the mailbox and back. (about 2 miles). And that is ENOUGH for me.

The finish line, back on the dock, into the water. And finally, a little celebration dinner.

Some individuals completed the entire course, some competed on teams, some used noodles and flippers, some modified the course to fit their wishes---it was all OK, all very unofficial.

We did have a few official lifeguards on the dock and in canoes-- .

Monica wasn't discouraged, even though she was wayyyyy behind most of the swimmers in her kayak--where I heard she was towing a small pack of 10 year old boys.

Even a few of the coolest Grand Marais ninth graders were here chillin'

Lindsay and Mike took the team title.

Tuscarora Andrew passed up
Grand Marais Chris Hegg at some point, to win the individual competition. Although, there was a bit of an age difference, we don't have official categories in our unofficial traithlon.

Here we have Michael (Phelps) Hyde, a daunting competitor.

I heard, unofficially, that the guys from the Seagull Guard Station were still on the clock---that the triathlon counted as their fitness training for that day.

I think they have to pass some sort of pack-test, but maybe THAT test is too official for the flip flops?

Jana is a lean Lutsen machine.

Sarah looks tough, because you have to be tough in order to be on the housekeeping staff this time of year.

Can you hear Mike? He's saying "piece o' cake"

And at the end comes the finish leap...could be the best part.

And that was a wrap. Really fun, and you are invited next year. We're considering actual triathlon t shirts. Maybe tye dye. Maybe not. I can't tell you the exact date, some Tuesday or Wednesday in July probably....but....setting a date right now, that would be kind of official, and it is the unofficial Tuscarora triathlon after all....

515

2009-07-20T13:01:00.008-05:00

by staffer Lindsay

We had to do it. The 515 rod portage between Paulson Lake and Seagull Lake has been calling my name for quite some time now, and after discussing a day off trip with some fellow staff members, we decided it was go time. Jen, Mike, Maggie and I left the dock at Tuscarora at 3:45 after work, and after paddling and portaging through Round, West Round, Edith, Brant, Gotter, Flying, Fay, Glee, Elusion, and Glossy Lake, we arrived at Paulson Lake just before 8 PM. That left plenty of sunlight to set up camp and make some dinner around the fire before hitting the hay.

Now we had to mentally prepare ourselves for the 515 rod portage that was lurking on the north end of Paulson, but for the time being, sleep was a priority.

After a good night’s rest, we awoke to a glistening lake complete with a fleet of loons. There were six loons coasting around the waters of our island campsite. I think they must all be old friends and Paulson is where they meet up for breakfast. All six paddled around for some time, a small cackle here and there. Then all of a sudden I looked out, and they were gone. A moment later I looked towards the sky and found the six circling above me before they split off in pairs and flew out of Paulson in three different directions. It makes me wonder if they do this often—head up to Paulson for a morning chat and a cup of joe? I might have to go back to investigate…

Well, loons aside, we hit THE portage at about 10:00 AM, and we knew in advance that we’d take our time. We made a few pack/canoe swaps and had a little snack part way through, but the 515 rod portage to Seagull was actually a pretty pleasant portage (as far as portages are concerned) with a spectacular view out across boundary country. We could see for miles, and each time we’d come up out of the next valley we could see just how much closer we were to Seagull. This portage may actually be my favorite portage. I have never seen so much of the Boundary Waters in one sitting (well, one portaging). We did it! We made our way across the 515 rod portage with our sanity still in tact. The four of us were pretty excited, however, to hit the water once again.

After the trip, we were a little tired. We did run into some not-so-fun portages and some rough spots along the way, but we felt very accomplished and pretty tough too. Now we just have to gear up for Grand Portage. What’s an extra couple of miles, right?