Ending the Old, Beginning the New

The dust of the old year has settled, and we are off and running in the new one.  The holidays were a whirlwind, as we readied the cabins and the lodge for the merriment that followed.  Over Christmas, several cabin folks and neighbors joined us in the search for Christmas trees, singing carols around the piano, and enjoying all of the delicious treats that come with the season.  As if that was not enough, we continued in the week between the holidays with skiing, sleigh riding, and more eating.  We also threw in a good dose of cooking, in preparation for our New Year's Eve party.  The days were completely filled, and thus, the time flew by.  Doesn't it always? Just when we are having the most fun of all.

For New Year's this year, our dinner theme was South of A Border.  We found interesting stews to make from Argentina and Peru,  a tasty rice and beans dish from Costa Rica, and some incredible Mexican recipes that Paul collected while he was in Alaska.  Our food and tastes truly are global when you can bring so much of the south into the north.  The flavors warmed our mouths and bellies on a cold winter's night.  It felt like comfort food of a whole new genre, and was just what we needed to keep us satisfied as we drew around the midnight bonfire.  The fire was having a tough time cooperating initially, but that did not dampen the spirit.  As soon as we counted down to the appointed moment, calling out "Happy New Year!" in our loudest voices, the lake responded with a deep groan of its own, accompanied by a generous rumble.   A magnificent start to 2013, I say.

Fresh Ice on Gunflint Lake

Fresh Ice on Gunflint Lake

As I reflect on the many moments of the holiday season, a few stand out as jewels to be shared.  The first was the gift of ice skating.  It's been about five years since the lake froze solid with no snow in the forecast.  The first day of skating gave everyone mirror-like ice, clear to the bottom.    The whole eastern half of the lake had frozen overnight, presenting a smooth, clear surface, interrupted occasionally by frosty cracks.  Everyone delighted in not only the thrill of skating again, but the ability to see the rocks on the floor of the lake while skimming over the top.  It really was magical.  By the second day, frost flowers had started to bloom on the surface, dotting the icescape, but not deterring the skaters. We missed the reflective quality, but still delighted in the swiftness of the blades.

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Skating is a generally a short-lived activity for us at Heston's.  In years past, we attempted to keep a rink open, and even tried a time or two of flooding one.  But our location midway down the lake is so vulnerable to the northwest winds, any thing we do gets snowed over in short order.  The best skating is now over, though a small patch remains open in front of Diamond Willow.  The two fellows named Jim, who were staying in the cabin, brought shovels while skating, employing the tools in probably much the same fashion as they had when rink skating as kids. They also carved out a figure-eight, and made a path to the landing.  Until we get more snowfall, a wee bit of skating remains for anyone so inclined.

The Belgian horses of Okontoe Family Sleighrides

The Belgian horses of Okontoe Family Sleighrides

Another memorable time came on our annual sleigh ride.  This year, the young folks decided that we would not be singing traditional carols while riding along. Instead, at one point I heard strains of an old Pat Benatar tune, which made me giggle. Would I ever have thought, back in the eighties when I first heard that song, that someday I would be riding a sleigh in the Northwoods hearing it again?  A second new non-tradition emerged in the form of horse puns and jokes, which kept us alternately laughing and occasionally groaning.  Afterwards, we enjoyed the warm hospitality of the Patten family in their early 1900's log cabin, bathed in lantern light while we enjoyed hot cocoa and peppermint lollipops.  We estimated that this was perhaps our seventeenth year out on the trail at Okontoe.  It was a beautiful as ever.

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It is fitting to end the year by celebrating in old ways and new.  The joy we find in the company, and the memories we create will keep us glowing as we begin January.  We hope that you all had a wonderful holiday as well, and we wish everyone all the best in this New Year.  Thank you for being a part of our lives!

Real Ice

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The temperature this morning was 4.3 degrees above zero.  The wind was down.  Could the lake finally have frozen?  As soon as the morning light came up, I walked to the landing to see.

The sunrise at this time of the year often sheds a wonderful pinky/orange glow to the sky and the lake.  In this case, it did not disappoint me.  A screen of slight, broken clouds cast the light in all the right shades.  As far as I could see, it looks as though yes, we do have ice.  A lingering bit of ice fog was visible on the Canadian shore, but it seems to have cleared.  That incredible stillness has fallen, save for the sounds of the birds, busy feeding as they greet the day.

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I often think of the ice as my winter playground.  We don't have many landscapes as flat as this one, here in the hilly and rocky Northwoods.  When the wind and weather permit, the lake is a great place to hike, snowshoe, ski, or even ride a bike.  And once in a great while, it is also fit for skating.  It's too soon to say if this will be one of those years, because we need some deep cold weather, with no snowfall.  If snow comes before the cold, it insulates the ice.  We'll be keeping an eye on both the lake and the thermometer over the next several days.  If we see wolves on the ice, that will tell us something.  We'll watch for other signs, too.

In the meantime, I'll content myself with looking for opportune moments to take the next "perfect" photograph.  And maybe I'll find other ways to play from the safety of the shoreline.

Fresh ice on Gunflint Lake, too hard to resist the urge to toss a rock out.

Watching Ice Form

Watching ice form sounds like it might be as exciting as watching grass grow....but really, it is much cooler than you think!  This morning the lake had shore ice for about twenty feet.  By the time the light came, it was already breaking up from mild wave action.  Two hours later, it was dead calm, and so I went to take some photos, as the lake is literally freezing before our eyes.

Playing the Lottery

Snowy Road December 10

Snowy Road November 24

Ski trail, first packing

Ski trail, first packing

Blooming Cactus

When the weathermen begin to forecast storms a week ahead of time, I am beginning to know better than to get seriously involved.  Like the lottery mania that recently gripped the country, snow anticipation can grab me and not let go.  I'm learning not to follow the reports too closely, and to just have patience.  Too many times, we've watched the predictions start high, only to be disappointed as the downgrading begins. I go to bed with that feeling re-captured from childhood, hoping that the flakes will pile high enough to cancel school.  Remember what it felt like when you got up the next day, only to find that your wish had not come true?

One really good thing about those predictions is that it inspires us to get a lot of outside work accomplished.  Storm coming?  Better get that firewood stacked! Several inches of snow on the way?  Put all that summer stuff away that somehow escaped our view before the last storm.  Pretty soon, though, there won't be any of that kind of work left to do.  Let it snow freely, I say.  Every day! (I think we are at that stage.)

In the recent scenario, we didn't win the Powerball, nor did we come up empty-handed.  I would have loved for the storm to track just a bit further north, like was first predicted.  At the same time, I'm happy for our friends in mid-, metro-, and southern Minnesota, as they got dumped on.  We are looking at around 4-5 inches, and it is still sifting down.  Greg and Paul are both out plowing, and that is a good thing.  Building snowbanks--I like that.  Before last week's warm-up, our neighbor Bob took out the Pisten-Bully groomer, and packed the ski trails.  That snow stayed put, and is now safely ensconced under the new blanket.  It shouldn't be too long before I can again put the skis on and rack up a few kilometers.

One lottery that I fortunately win every year is that with our Christmas cactus.  As near as we know, family history pegs this one at about 125 years old.  We almost killed it one year when it got left out in the fall too long.  Greg wasn't home to carry it in, and I was eight and a half months pregnant with Paul, so I wasn't going to try to lift it up.  The poor thing froze back to its stems, and Sharlene and I sweated how we would tell Grandma Peggy if it happened to die.  But it was hardy, and recovered well.  Each year, it blooms from early December well into late February.  Must be that northwoods air that keeps it so healthy and going strong.  Sounds like a good recipe!