Here We Go Again

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Today we will lose snow.  It's supposed to get into the forties. With the morning temperature currently at 39 degrees, I can see that will be easy to do.  The wind is gusting from the south, bringing that unwelcome warmth. It has torn brown seeds and fronds from the cedar trees, littering the ground beneath.  The snow looks old and tired, as though it has already spent a full season here.  It's difficult to take winter seriously when it pulls shenanigans like this.

My skis are laying in a heap, the secure snowbank foundation in which I had planted them now devoid of integrity.  The blankets of insulation that had covered our metal roofs have slid free, crashing to the ground in a thunder.  What felt like a huge step forward just one week ago currently has the smack of two steps back, in this slow road to the winter season.

That seems to be how the story goes in recent years.  We scurry like the small forest animals to get all of the chores done:  Docks in, boats put away--check! Firewood split and stacked--check! Summer bread oven tarp down, winter soup tent up--check?  Not quite.  The tarp has been down for weeks, but the tent still lies rolled up in its bag, stashed away in our storage building.  Could this be why the weather has turned again?

I'm a glass-half-full sort of person, and always have been.  Instead of strapping on my skis today, I'll be helping to put the metal framework together for the tent.  We'll insulate the floor with straw, slide the canvas over the frame, and secure it all against the wind.  Then I will string the Christmas lights on the lodge porches.  And I'll be able to do it all without freezing my fingers. 

This small reprieve from the cold won't be such a bad thing after all.  Winter will still come--with the same certainty that the  Whos down in Whoville possess, we all know it to  be true.  This is Minnesota after all, and the northern border at that.  The snow will get here.  In fact, I've already seen the first hint of a new snowstorm next weekend.  I read about it on Facebook.  And isn't that the place to get the all of the latest news these days?


Skiing in November

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Top of Lonely Lake Trail

It's been a while since I dusted off the skis as early as November.  Many years back, we would get reliable early snow, but this was the first in recent memory.  I decided that it was a good day to pull out the cross-country skis and poles, and venture outside.

For me, the first few times I ski each year are more about lungs, legs and arms.  Specifically, rather than worrying about perfect technique or good stride and glide, I just try to get back my muscle memory and lung capacity.  Yesterday was a good opportunity for that.  The ten or so inches of snow on the trail have yet to be packed.  This meant that I was working my way through powder, breaking trail with every step.

And steps they were.  As I trudged my way up the powerline trail, I could see that another creature had been there before me.  Those four skinny legs were no match for my two long boards.  Sometimes, when my pole would plant cleanly through to the ground, I could feel the metal tip hit rock.

The scenery more than made up for the extra effort I had to exert.  I wanted a good workout after all.  And who can deny that the view of a still-open Gunflint Lake, taken from the top of the Lonely Lake hill, isn't a beautiful sight?  It took my breath away--but probably in part because it was running short already!

Gunflint Lake 11.28.2012

For the first time, I actually bombed the hills all the way back to home.  That's laughable, since my speed was greatly reduced given the unpacked snow.  It was fun though, and slow is my speed these days on hills.  When I got down the first hill, I looked back and saw that I had managed to leave behind some fairly respectable tracks.    Things will improve greatly once we have more snow and can begin packing and tracking the trails. A good start though, wouldn't you say?

Changes

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November 25, 2012

The last few weeks have been mostly about firewood.  We're making progress!

From this:

To this:

The scenario has been repeating itself all over our property for quite a while now.  Like the squirrels gathering seeds and nuts, we have been scurrying to split and stack the wood that will keep us warm this winter.

And speaking of winter, we went from this:

To this:

Last week was mostly balmy, temps in the high 40's, and even the 50's.  We loved the warmer weather, without bugs, for getting the work done.  Leading up to the change, the weather report was playing with me.  Snow was predicted---or should I say "threatened", as they wrote it up in the hazardous weather outlook.  I was sure that the prospect was doomed.  I felt no threat of snow, only the potential threat of disappointment if it didn't come through.

But on Thursday afternoon, it began to rain, and by evening it had switched to snow.  We were told to expect two to four inches.  In the end, we were blessed with six to eight.  The heavy nature of it took a bit of a toll on the trees, as they curved and bent under the weight.  I liberated several on a walk from the point.  It was mainly small birches that were leaning.  We did lose a large cedar on the road by Cedar Point.  That is always a disappointment, but in this case, I now have the cedar sprigs that I need for my cards.  So there is a silver lining, despite a hole in the skyscape there.

Last night, it began to snow again, and we received another four inches, a real light and fluffy variety. Overall, that puts us in the neighborhood of about ten inches for the start of our season.  It's nice to have it come in a larger drop like this.  I do believe it will be sticking around, providing a good blanket in the early part of the season. 

I hope that everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday, surrounded by family and friends.  We look forward to the upcoming weeks, filled with more celebrations, and hopefully lots more snow, too.

A Canoe Ride

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October 31, 2012

It took all of the summer and part of the fall, but I finally found some time for a canoe ride last week.  We were treated to one of those exceptionally calm days.  It was the kind of day that just begs for someone to be out canoeing.  Though I am not a fan of cold water, how could I resist?

Paul agreed to humor me, and he capably manned the stern.  After two canoe trips this summer, he is quite adept and in shape for this.  Me, not so much.  My shoulders were protesting after just a dozen strokes! Evidently, the muscle and joint action required for folding sheets and towels does not put one into shape for canoe paddling.  No matter, I would just pause for a moment or two to take photos, and then resume.  Pretty soon it wasn't a problem.

Due to that afore-mentioned cold water, we did not venture far from shore.  But we did head to both the west and the east. The sun on the water provided some good light for photos, and kept me warm.  Since the lake was so still, we could see the bottom.  Had we tipped, I knew we weren't going to be in the water long.

As we rounded the point to come home, one of our guests was starting a campfire.  The wafting smoke filled the air and delighted my sense of smell.  A little aromatherapy to accompany my short canoe excursion.  It might not have been as long as if I'd taken time to do this jaunt sooner, but it certainly filled the bill to round out my summer.