Seasonal Chores

So much of fall is really about winter--specifically, getting ready for winter. For those who have a garden, fall harvest is the time to put up the produce for the long winter season. I confess that I did not have much of a garden this year, since spring planting time was so disrupted. I did manage to get a few beans and some chard in the ground by late June, so we have enjoyed some homegrown goodies. Thank heavens for the CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) to which we belong. Three wonderful women near Grand Marais farm all summer and fill a cooler each week with the fruits and veggies of their labor. Already I am looking forward to next summer, for the CSA coolers and for the opportunity to again test out my own green thumb. Moses and Jethro are consistently doing their part to provide dirt for more raised garden beds.

I’ve probably mentioned it here before, but one of the most important fall chores is to process the firewood. You may have noticed our huge stack of logs in the backyard across from the gravel pit. Having a woodpile like that is like having money in the bank. It will keep us warm in the months to come, once we have it bucked up into stove-length pieces, split, and stacked to dry. Ever since the kids were little, they have been required to help in some way during firewood season. As they get older, they have been able to help even more. Paul and Addie are both proficient at running the splitter, and they are excellent stackers. There is a bit of an art to making a good wood stack, so that it is neat, spaced for good air circulation, and most importantly, so that it won’t fall down. To do this, one must build “corners” at the end of the stacks. We log-cabin the wood on each end of the stack, so that it is a little more stable. I used to dislike making corners, but have since come to enjoy the challenge. I’ve also learned that if I split the wood properly, I have good corner pieces to work with. Even the most rote and mundane chores can have their interesting moments.

Another way we are preparing for winter is by having some new furnaces installed. Birch cabin is getting two small heaters, one in each bedroom. The big old gas furnace finally is being replaced. This should help make even the coldest nights cozier. In Diamond Willow cabin, the furnace in the master bedroom will be given the old heave-ho in favor of a new and efficient one. It is good to know that we can head into the next season a little better prepared to handle it.

Speaking of the next season, we are all hopeful that it will be a snowy one. It feels like we are overdue for a really good winter. Greg has a new truck and is ordering a snowplow for it soon. He is excited as he loves to go plowing. Already we have had flurries, the first time having been in mid-September. We saw some snow again last week, so that sends us scurrying out to work a little harder on the woodpile. It is much easier to get that job finished before the snow flies. So why am I not out there today? You guessed it---it’s raining again.

So Many Good Things, and Adventures on the High Seas

It was quite a summer...and now the calendar tells me that it is autumn. The usual lament---Where did the time go?--- applies here. I’ve had some time in recent days to catch my breath, and to begin to think about all of the things I want to share. I apologize for going on a hiatus for so many days. It’s been a busy stretch, both in real life and in my head! I’m back and ready to write.

The events of May definitely shaped the days of the summertime, in ways I anticipated, but also in unexpected gifts and experiences. So many good things have come our way, and the gratitude we feel is immense. Large things, such as generosity beyond our dreams, down to small things like skeins of yarn gifted to me---it’s been overwhelming, breath-taking, and healing. The thoughts are coming to me in bits and pieces, but my plan is to write some of the shorter anecdotes here, and on the Planet Heston’s page, I will post the larger stories. Thanks for bearing with me as I get my act together and do this.

From spring drought to fall rain, forest fire to near flooding, it has been a season or two of extremes. Recently, we heard that the Gunflint Trail received 22 inches of rain in five weeks from early September into October. Boy are we wet!

The old adage, be careful what you wish for, really hasn’t applied here. Despite the challenges the water has brought, nearly everyone I’ve encountered is cheerful about it. We’ve seen what happens when we don’t get the necessary rain. I was in the lake more in September than all summer long. It certainly was not because I am a fan of cold water. All that rain falling into the lake brings the water up to some extent. But then over the next few days, it continues to rise, as the little creeks wash down the hills. At one point, Greg said the lake level had risen by 24 inches. Currently, the water laps at the very top of our cement ramp at the landing. That is normally a sight reserved for spring, right after ice out.

Our first stop was the dock and boat lift. The decking was askew, thanks to high water and winds. The boat lift was in some very deep water, and wasn’t to be budged with out getting in to the lake. The slowly-rising water had easily floated the boat right off the ramp. When the fishermen found it, they tied it securely to some trees just to the east of the dock. It was rocking gently, not in immediate danger, so we decided to go home and eat breakfast before trying to move it.

When we got back to Heston’s, Greg drove the boat right up on to our dock. It was sitting so low in the water, it was like a ramp.

There’s something about coming back home in the middle of a job....so many other chores call out, that it is hard to get back to what we were doing. That’s how it was that day. By afternoon, we still hadn’t gotten back down the lake. The waters remained calm, but we knew it was due to change, with northwest winds predicted. Sure enough, by late afternoon, the winds did roll in, and we knew that we had to move that boat. Greg grabbed his chest waders, and I wore my usual “going in the lake in spring/fall” outfit of fleece long johns, rubber duck boots and sweatshirt. What a crazy sight.

This time, we drove to the property, and after walking through the woods on the shoreline, we came to the boat. This is a large boat, not like our small fishing boats. We couldn’t just push it off and walk it back home--not against the waves. Greg went scouting to the east to find an appropriate and safe landing for it. When he returned, he said that we could take it to another neighbors’ boat lift. They had already taken their boat out of the water.

Greg got in to the boat as I untied it and then began to push it off the shore. He hollered to me to jump in--no easy task with a big boat like that. Soon enough I managed and we cast off with only two paddles and the wind pushing us down the lake. We hoped that we could paddle it to where it needed to be. By this time, I was really feeling like a pirate, onboard in stormy seas, adrift with plunder! Then, whoops---we hit a small bar. Greg jumped overboard, and I pushed on the bottom with my paddle to help free us. He got back in, and just a short ways more, we reached the dock. Our friend Larry was waiting.
We cast him a rope, and he helped to guide us on to the lift. It took some fiddling, but we eventually got the boat situated and up on the lift. Greg found the proper button to get the bilge pump running. Another boat was rescued and safe.

Larry invited us in for a beer, but we took a rain check, since by then we were a pretty soggy pair. We slogged back to the truck to head home. Along the way, we stopped to check on two more boats belonging to friends. Sure enough, these two boats also needed more attention. One was not to be budged--too much water on board and no easy place to pull it higher. The other one was a bit more manageable. With the aid of a come-along, we pulled it to high ground. It wasn’t going anywhere.

We got home about seven-thirty, just in time to cook a quick dinner, get changed, and then head down the trail. Paul’s band was playing music at Windigo. “Come hell or high water,” we weren’t going to miss that!

P.S. Many thanks to my friends Orv and Alice, and Cindy P. for giving me that gentle nudge to get writing again. Without you, I may have been stalled for even longer!

Pizza Tuesday

Once again, it is pizza season here on Gunflint Lake! Each week, we fire up the bread oven to bake some tasty treats. It takes about six hours of stoking to get the oven hot enough for the bread and pizza. Late in the afternoon, we gather outside around the oven.

First we put in the ciabatta, a sourdough bread that is similar to foccacia. This bread generally bakes in about eight minutes, if the oven is hot enough. We still haven't hooked up the computerized monitor that will tell us how hot the oven really is, but we estimate it to be in the high 500's to low 600's. Once this bread comes out of the oven and has cooled slightly, it practically disappears off the table. We cut it in to chunks, eat it plain, put butter on it, dip it in olive oil with fresh herbs---anyway we do it, it is so delectable. If there is any leftover, we use it over the course of the next week to make panini sandwiches, or as buns for our venison burgers. And if there is any left after that, if it has gone stale, Moses and Jethro, the donkeys, absolutely love it. They have been known to try and take my sandwich out of my hand, because they love ciabatta so much. They don't get it very often, because it usually is long gone.

Next we gather up the pizza dough, and start to roll crusts out. We like to pre-bake the crusts in the oven for a few minutes, and then pull them out to put on the toppings. Once they are covered in sauce and other fixin's, they go back in to the oven to finish off. All told, it probably takes five minutes per pizza. They get cut up right away, and those, too, disappear in no time. We joke that if you help to make a pizza, then walk away while it is in the oven, you may miss out on it.

It is always interesting to try new toppings for the pizzas. We make a fair share of the traditional ones, with cheese and pepperoni, but we also like to experiment with new ideas. Some of the best taste sensations have come out of this casual creativity. Last week we tried one that went over very well with some folks, while others would have nothing to do with it. Instead of traditional red sauce, we spread a thin layer of peanut butter on the crust. Next we sprinkled crisp bacon bits, carmelized onions, chopped chipotle chiles (only a few--they are hot!), and some asiago cheese on the crust. Two minutes in the oven, and back on the table. I thought it was fabulous. Sure, it wasn't one that would entice me to eat several slices, but as an appetizer, it was great! I love the mix of savory flavors on one like this. Many others agreed, and we ended up making a second one.

I have no idea what kind of pizza we will be making this week, as it all depends on the ingredients on hand at the time, and the creative minds around the preparation table. No matter, it all gets eaten, and often in a blink of the eye. We are firing up the oven on Tuesdays this summer, so if you would like to taste the wares from the oven, give us a call! 1-800-338-7230

Teenage Moose

Springtime is often when I get to see what I call teen-age moose. These are the young ones who have just been sent off to be on their own. They are sleek, muscled, and they have long lanky legs. That is one reason that they remind me of teenagers. The other reason is that when I encounter them on the road, much like new young drivers, they don't always know what to do! If it is night-time, they seem to get confused and veer around on the road in front of me. I always stop when I encounter a moose on the road, and I find it helps if I turn my lights down to low beam, or even to parking lights for a moment. This seems to help the moose get its bearings and then figure out how to get off the roadway. Then I can turn my lights back up and continue on my way. Last Wednesday morning, we were headed down the trail towards town, and spotted these two teens in the road. Fortunately, we had the camera ready, and Robert snapped this photo before they headed in to the woods.

On the way home, I spotted a small bear on the edge of the Mayhew swamp. He, too, looked like a young one that had been bumped from the homestead, to make way for the new little cubs. It has been a while since I saw a bear in the woods, doing what bears should do. It was a good thing to see.