Monthly Archives: October 2023

Bring on the Music

Posted on by
2

There’s no doubt, the pandemic has left its imprint on me. After several years of hibernating and withdrawing from contact, with my social life shrinking down to the confines of my house and on-screen human connection only, it’s hard to re-engage.

I grew accustomed to an empty calendar. To unlimited personal time to pursue my hobbies. To the simplicity of life focused on the outdoors where I could mingle safely with friends while running, walking or snowshoeing in the woods. I admit that it has been hard to reinstate entertaining at home, to schedule events in advance and find myriad obligations staring at me on Google Calendar.

So I don’t know what got into me early this summer when I saw the banner atop the DECC announcing “The Doobie Brothers in Concert!” I immediately flashed back to my college days – well in advance of that pesky pandemic – and I blurted out “Look! Let’s go see the Doobie Brothers!” I was out with my running buddies on our usual route through Canal Park and back to Dunn Bros where we would hang out longer over coffee. I’m usually pretty oblivious to the show offerings in town, and it was pure happenstance that I even saw the sign. But the idea caught on, and soon we had six tickets in hand, dragging our husbands into it with us.

We started with dinner at Silos, which allowed us to walk over to the concert where we entered with the other gray hairs, and a few 70s clad groupies. We were just above floor level with a straight-on view of the stage. Right on time, the band strode out and struck up the music – just as I remembered it. I didn’t even own a stereo in college, but the Doobie Brothers were one of the few bands whose music I knew well.

This was a 50th Anniversary Tour, and I marveled at the number of original band members still up there playing and singing their hearts out. The lights and sound systems were modern but the tunes had not changed. They still had the fullness of sound and harmonies I loved way back when.

The music went on without a break for two and half hours, and we marveled at the stamina of the musicians, still out there doing it. The crowd went wild, bringing on an encore set that lasted at least 20 minutes, the best music yet. We were among them, cheering, relishing the familiar refrains and singing along. Carried away by the memories, the music and the momentum of the evening.

Attending a concert was everything the pandemic was not. And it sure felt good to be out there again, in public, in the moment, in attendance at an amazing performance. Experiencing it – live.

Fast forward to October. “So, are you going to the concert?” my sister, Susie, texted. “Concert?” I hadn’t a clue. “ABBA!” she replied. Now that struck a chord – Rich has been an avid ABBA fan forever. Rarely a day goes by that I don’t hear an ABBA music video emanating from his phone. How could we not have known? Quickly confirming the quality of Mania: The ABBA Tribune band, he soon pressed Purchase for the concert just over a week hence.

This time we were in Orchestra Hall, with aisle tickets on the main floor in a far more intimate setting. I was familiar with ABBA’s music, largely through seeing Mama Mia, although thanks to Rich’s CDs I’d heard all the rest as well. But I knew virtually nothing about the original band members. So I got my first glimpse of the players on this stage.

Agnetha, Frida, Bjorn and Benny paraded out along with their backup band members. It was clear that the women would dominate the show, as they quickly took center stage to sing, dance and encourage audience participation. Agnetha had a classic Swedish look in her first costume, and partnered seamlessly with Frida.

This group was first created in 1999 and put on their first show in 2000. They have since traveled the world, recreating the music and magic of ABBA. Throughout the show, Rich filled me in with trivia about all the original band members, fun tidbits that helped put the performance in perspective. It all sounded good to me, each song a close enough match to the recordings to draw me into the performance.

As the concert went on, revelers migrated into the side aisles to dance to the music. We made do with tapping our feet and swaying our arms in the air when prompted, equally engaged. Song after familiar song went by until we thought we’d heard them all. But there was one clear omission. Sure enough, for the encore the band paraded back out to perform “Dancing Queen” which brought the audience to their feet once again. Including us.

I left with my head full of music, energized by the experience. Once again, glad we’d grabbed the opportunity. Living life fully again.

There is life after Covid after all. It still takes some effort to overcome that withdrawal mentality. But sometimes we don’t hesitate. We already have tickets to Mannheim Steamroller for their upcoming Christmas Tour concert in December.

Bring on the music!

Troll Hunt

Posted on by
2

What’s better than getting out in nature and enjoying the woods? Finding a giant troll nestled among the trees with his massive wooden hands wrapped around two thick trunks. Jakob Two Trees, in fact!

Jakob happens to reside in the heart of Issaquah, where our son Erik lives. We decided to make an afternoon activity out of finding Jakob and one more of the five trolls who are recent inhabitants of the Seattle area. He wasn’t hard to find. Following a wheelchair-friendly path into the woods near the community center, the string of curious walkers were a clue. Families meandered into the woods, children skipped, trees towered overhead and the city environs fell away. When a line backed up in front of us, we knew we were close. The beautiful fall weekend afternoon drew onlookers of all ages, and it was no hardship to wait and watch as we inched our way forward.

Like everyone else, we had to have our photo taken with our new friend Jakob.

Jakob and his buddies are the handiwork of Thomas Dambo, a Danish artist and storyteller.  Since creating his first troll for a Danish cultural festival in 2014, Dambo has received requests for troll installations all over the world, now numbering over 120. Those in Seattle and one in Portland were just completed in September, sponsored by Scan Design Foundation, which aims to promote Danish-American relations.

But why trolls? Dambo cares deeply about nature and uses his trolls to draw people into the woods. He hopes to spark their curiosity about the outdoors and think about protecting it. Trolls also provide the perfect vehicle for his love of whimsy and paying tribute to the troll folklore that was a significant part of his youth. To that end, he publishes a Troll Map that provides only a rough guide to the location of his trolls – preserving the fun of hunting them down in the woods.

Photo opp achieved, Erik, Rich and I wandered around Jakob to take in the detail of this massive troll. As I walked his eyes seemed to follow, peering at me from the side. We were impressed with his grasp of the trees, and the tangles of hair assembled into a giant ponytail hanging down his back. He sports a colorful collection of birdhouses for a necklace, and I wondered if any birds had taken up residence.

Danbo creates the faces in his studio in Copenhagen, and sometimes the more detailed pieces like hands and feet. The remainder of the 15-20 foot trolls are assembled on-site by his crew of 10 plus a slew of local volunteers. Everything is made from recycled materials, scrap lumber or locally available items from nature, such as driftwood, fir branches, moss and shells. We could certainly see that in Jakob’s hair.

Totally impressed with Jakob, we eagerly drove to West Seattle for our next troll sighting. We knew only that it was in Lincoln Park, and began to walk its many trails without any further guidance. Naturally drawn to the beach, we followed the long path that paralleled the water and before long spotted a crowd holding smartphones in the air. We had discovered Bruun Idun.

Standing with her back to the woods, she looks out over the Sound while playing her flute, an elaborate instrument with its origins in a piece of driftwood, shells and other ocean detritus. She plays a song to the orcas.

I was getting a sense for the unique nature of each troll, each with a different story behind it.

The trolls will stay in place for 3 years, possibly extended to 15 or beyond. The two we visited were merely weeks old, and I wondered how they might weather over the years. Apparently that is of little concern to Dambo. He knows they will not last forever. He’s more interested in the smiles they evoke in the meantime. But they won’t be left for nature to reclaim. It is up to each host site to determine when to dismantle their troll and recycle the materials.

With just that little taste, I’m eager to seek out the remaining three trolls in Seattle. I know I’ll be back to visit Erik and Katie, so it’s entirely possible I may get to see them. Back home in Duluth, the nearest trolls are in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and the environs of Chicago. But rumor has it that Dambo is looking at Rhode Island and Minnesota for upcoming US trolls. I can just see one living just across the street in the Lester woods! My troll hunt continues.

Orcas Island by Bicycle

Posted on by
3

“It’s not that hilly, Mom.” I should have known better. In all the years of bike touring I did with Rich, we learned to never trust a motorist to give us directions. “Just down the road” may be hours of cycling for us. They don’t feel a headwind, and hills just mean pressing the accelerator a bit harder.

Erik and I had both been to Orcas Island in the San Juan Islands before, but only by car. When I arrived in Seattle to visit him and Katie, he was keen for an adventure. “Let’s bike Orcas Island!” My memory included hills, but I willingly quashed the image.

That just left the weather. In typical Seattle fashion, there was plenty of rain in the forecast. Comparing different weather apps only proved it was a complete unknown, so we caved to our inner explorers and set our plan in motion. Rising at 4:30am to reach the ferry in time for a 7:30 crossing, we sped through the dark in eager anticipation. The sun was just clearing the trees as we boarded the ferry in Anacortes, which we took to be a good omen for the day ahead.

As if to reinforce my premonitions, the road rose steeply from the ferry landing. I had borrowed Katie’s bike, shoes, pedals and helmet for this outing. Normally not a big deal, but this was a road bike – drop handlebars and all, which I’d never ridden in my life. Struggling to clip into the unfamiliar pedals, find the gear shifters and figure out which was which, I floundered immediately and ground to a halt. Relieved that I didn’t fall, I walked the bike a short distance to the first flatish spot to begin again. I took off from there, and never looked back.

Our plan was to bike the island – all of it. We’d cover all the paved roads we could before the 5:15 return ferry. Our first priority was to bike out to the far end of the sound and down to the tip on the far side of the inverted U-shaped island. Full of ambition and energy we tackled the hilly terrain.

Away from town, the countryside was quiet and rural, varying from farms and pastureland to forested byways. Pausing briefly in Eastsound Village to take in the view, we pushed on to the opposite side, eager to get more miles under our belts.

At Obstruction Pass near the tip we took time to venture out the long pier, soaking up the calm surroundings and serene view. Little was stirring – some children in a kayak, a fisherman docking his boat. It felt far removed from the season of high tourism, reclaimed by the locals.

Retracing the road north, we ventured off to follow smaller roads to the east. With each turn we left behind more cars and population, eventually reaching a quiet harbor at Kangaroo Point. Breakfast was a distant memory so we dropped our bikes on the grass and perched on a huge tree stump to pull out our sandwiches. Time easily slipped away as we refueled and relished the sunshine and undisturbed view.

Determined to explore it all, on our way back to Eastsound we made a short detour to the top of the island to peer out toward the water on that side. Then a long-anticipated stop at Brown Bear Baking for lattes and a blueberry tart to energize us for our final leg.

With clouds gathering overhead, we forged on toward Deer Harbor on the west arm. Just as the raindrops began to fall, a large parking lot materialized and we quickly stopped to don our rain jackets. Undeterred, we pushed on, determined to complete our tour. The road followed the shoreline, both flattening out slightly and giving us wet views of West Sound and a marina populated with sailboats. When we reached the Deer Harbor Inn just short of town, we did a time check. “I’m not sure there’s a later ferry,” Erik admitted. Calling it good enough, we turned around and pushed our pedals back toward the ferry landing. Sailing down that final steep hill, we could see the ferry chugging up to the dock.

I can now say with confidence that Orcas Island is indeed VERY hilly. Each downhill came with the guarantee of an uphill to follow, and visa versa. But I wouldn’t have changed a thing. It was worth every ounce of effort to spend the day with Erik, to share the unrelenting ups and downs, to brave the not-so-bad rainfall, to sit side by side munching on sandwiches.

Now we’re eyeing the other islands…