7 Bridges (or more) Road

IMG_0377You learn something every day.  And I learned quite a lot today!  It all started when I went out with my camera, taking advantage of the mild afternoon to practice taking photos.  We live just across from Amity Creek at the start of Seven Bridges Road.  I thought I’d follow the water upstream hoping to find some scenic wintry shots of ice and snow.  Rich recommended walking upstream – literally, on the ice.  But the gurgling sounds and tinkling melodies of flowing water under the ice made me feel queasy about that approach, so instead I chose to walk the road and periodically followed the deer tracks down to the creek’s banks.  As it turned out, the creek offered limited photo opps, so I turned my attention to the road and bridges.

IMG_0409Seven Bridges Road is a treasure.  I grew up taking family drives there, marveling that this winding, steep tree-lined road following Amity Creek could lie within the city of Duluth.   As its name implies, the road crosses the creek seven times in its short 1.5 miles.  Or so I thought.  Lesson number one for the day.  Since moving here, I have become intimately acquainted with this road, frequently running, cycling or walking up to its top and beyond.  So I know that there are in fact eight bridges.  But I always thought the bridge at the top of the road was the “extra” as it appears to be around the bend and on the start of Skyline Parkway, and therefore didn’t count.  Today I learned differently!  In fact, it is the legitimate seventh bridge, and the one at the bottom, just beyond our house is the imposter.  It was not built with the original bridges, but came many years later as part of Lester Park.

That leads to lesson two.  I was always under the impression that the marvelous stone bridges were built by the Works Progress Administration (WPA), but as it turns out, the bridges predated that project by two decades.  Samuel Snively built the original road and wooden bridges in 1899-1900, and it was he who engineered the route that continually criss-crosses Amity Creek.  But without proper maintenance it all deteriorated within ten years.  The road was handed over to the Duluth Park Commission in 1910, which turned out to be good news.  According to the History of Seven Bridges Road,  “During 1911, the roadway was regraded and graveled, and several first class stonemasons from the Duluth area were hired to build the bridges simultaneously.  Each bridge had a concrete and reinforcement bar arch structure, and was artistically faced wtih native basalt and bluestone rock collected from the creek bed or blasted from nearby outcrops.  The cap rocks consist of pink opal granite quarried in St. Cloud, Minnesota.”  Nine stone-arch bridges were built that year.

Nine?  Yes, there are two more bridges above what I thought was the top of the road.  Following what is now a hiking and snowmobile trail, sure enough I found them.  Lesson three.  These bridges apparently fell into disuse by automobiles in the 1930’s when the road was extended to Hawk Ridge.

And that rogue first bridge?  It was built in 1928, to replace an earlier bridge which connected carriage paths on either side of Lester Park.  It was only a poor replica of the other bridges, lacking much of their finer detail.

Just over a century after Snively first started his road and bridges, a restoration project was begun on the bridges.  From 1996-2007 each of the eight bridges was restored to its original condition – that included the Lester Park Bridge, which is now identical in construction to the seven others.

I may not have advanced my photography skills today, but I did learn what a wonderful heritage we have, right outside our doorstep.

Bridge 1 d

Lester Park Bridge

First Bridge

Second Bridge

Third Bridge

Fourth Bridge

Bridge 6 a

Fifth Bridge – most expensive to build

Sixth Bridge

Seventh Bridge – least expensive

ridge 9 c

Eighth Bridge – trail bridge

Ninth Bridge – trail bridge

 

Photography 101

Who knew that starting a blog would lead to another new interest?  I enjoy illustrating my blog posts with pictures, but my little point and shoot camera has limited capabilities.  So when the marketing gods wooed my husband into upgrading his fancy camera to the next new model, I gladly inherited his old one.  It seemed a prudent way to test the reality of my yearnings.  Would I really invest the time to learn how to use it properly?  Would it be worth lugging around instead of the small lump that so easily fits in my pocket?  Only time will tell.

I have a million pictures of Christmas Day, when it seemed justified to keep shooting photos with my new toy.  I took it to Bentleyville, the huge Christmas light display, and was quite pleased with the way I was able to capture the lights in the dark.

I ventured out at sunset the other night to capture the beautiful colors and enjoyed discovering the long shadows the sun cast across the snow.

And today I headed down to Canal Park where the lighthouses provided a stark white contrast to the deep blue of Lake Superior.  I deemed one picture good enough to grace the top of my blog pages, providing a new wintery theme.  I even tried getting a bit artsy with my shots.  Perhaps I still need a bit of practice on that front.

So far so good.  And I haven’t even ventured off “Auto” mode yet.

Winters of Yesteryear

The high school Nordic ski team just skied by…  on roller-skis.  It’s December and it looks more like September.  The plants outside our front door are greening up again.  I went Christmas shopping yesterday, and passed fellow shoppers in the parking lot who were not wearing jackets.  It just didn’t feel right being so warm while toting Christmas gifts.

When I was growing up in Duluth we always had snow.  Lots of it.  In grade school, our favorite Friday celebration was to walk home from school on top of the huge snowbanks that lined the streets.  They were high, well over our heads.  We had a little red ball that we put on the antenna of our car so others could see it over the snowbank, coming around corners.  (Okay, so cars don’t have antennas any more either.)  We made igloos out of the snow piles from shoveling the driveway.  Big ones that we could sit inside.  Streets were so narrow due to the plowed snow that parking became a problem, or more accurately, navigating around parked cars was a challenge.  And we had legitimate Snow Days, home from school to wait out a blizzard.  At least such is my memory of winter.

IMG_9300The snow we had on Thanksgiving was just a teaser.  I keep telling myself that we didn’t always have snow for Thanksgiving.  And that holiday was early this year.  It’s not time to panic just yet.  Never mind that last year’s dismal lack of snow lurks in recent memory.  We still might have a good snow winter.  Please?

If you don’t like the weather in Duluth…

Wait five minutes.  That’s the saying, and today it is so true!

Getting ready for my morning run, our outdoor thermometer said 30 degrees.  The Weather Channel on my iPad said 39 degrees.  Turns out both were right.  Stepping outside the door, seeing the frost on the garden and feeling the air, I knew our thermometer was accurate.  I headed up 7 Bridges Road and continued on toward Hawk Ridge running through the morning’s chill, challenged by the hill work.  Suddenly it was SO WARM!  It was as if I’d crossed a magic line and the heat was on full blast.  Off came the hat and gloves, and I wished I for lighter layers of clothing.  I had reached the critical elevation where I was out of the lake’s reach and its morning fog.  Sun blanketed my path and I knew I was in the zone measured by the Weather Channel – it was at least 10 degrees warmer than down below.  Not long after, while cruising down Glenwood Street I re-encountered lake effect air.  Back on went the hat and gloves.

I continued on down to the lake, through Brighton Beach and up the North Shore before returning home.  As I ran, the sun burned through the fog and began to warm the air even down by the lake.  Once again I felt overdressed.  But it was a welcome warmth and I enjoyed the glorious morning that resulted.

By early afternoon when we left for Thanksgiving dinner, it was positively balmy out!  The temperature had risen to over 50 degrees.  It seemed so odd to think that it was so warm on Thanksgiving when by all rights we could have snow.  (Oh, if only!  We skiers are getting concerned…)  But we didn’t give Duluth her due.  By the time we returned home, big fat flakes were falling and by now it’s even accumulating on the ground. It’s a winter wonderland out there.

What a difference a few hours makes.  Or five minutes.

We have arrived!

It’s only a mailbox.  Well, a super-duper mailbox.  But it represents so much more.  After building a house and several years of splitting time between the Twin Cities and Duluth, we have finally tipped the balance and are spending over 50% of our time in the Northland.  And we anticipate that growing.  So we decided it was time to make it official.  Yesterday Rich filled out the forms to make this our formal residence and started mail service.  Expecting government forms to fill out in triplicate for the mail, Rich was amused and gratified to find that all it took was writing the address on a post-it note.  Done deal – that’s all our mailman needs.  Today the mailbox went up.  We are Duluthians once more.  We both grew up here, and love being back by Lake Superior.

I have to admit that for me, there are still family members in the Twin Cities that tug on the heartstrings of this decision.  We are fortunate to have two of our three children settle in good jobs back in the Cities after college.  And one has produced two beautiful grandchildren for us.  Proximity to them is priceless, which is why I know that we haven’t seen the end of Highway 35 yet.  Not in a long shot.

On the flip side, the rest of our family loves Duluth and the North Shore.  I guess we brought them up right.  And we learned one unexpected lesson.  Once we began celebrating holidays in our Duluth home, having our children and grandkids here for the holiday meant having them stay.  If the little ones get cranky or need a nap, they don’t head home after the big meal.  And we get them for several days, not just one.  There is nothing like waking up in the morning and making fresh muffins for my grandson.  Or snuggling with my granddaughter as she has her morning bottle.  Or perhaps I can go for a run and out for coffee with one of my own kids.  The time is precious, and there is nothing like sharing space with them in our home.

My daughter reminded me of the times she and her brothers stayed with my parents in Duluth while Rich and I took time to go up to the Boundary Waters or other adult pursuit.  She remembered it fondly, calling it “Grandma and Grandpa Camp.”  It’s a term I don’t remember myself, but I’m ready to recreate the experience.

Home is where the computer is

We’ve had our house in Duluth for over two years now, and we’re beginning to tip the balance with spending more time there than in the Cities.  Instead of making trips to Duluth, I feel like I’m packing for a few days in the Cities.  That’s all fine with me!

But it does make for a transition of goods.  Most of my clothes still live in the Cities, and my favorites seem to travel back and forth.  I guess that just goes to show how few clothes I really need…  Perhaps there is a message there for me, and a closet cleaning activity in store.  Specialty cooking tools and ingredients appear to be making a gradual migration.  We’re more likely to entertain in Duluth, so with each recipe different items make my packing list.  Sports clothes are largely duplicated in each home, but the big ticket items like bikes and skis will continue to travel back and forth.

But the real indicator is my computer.  Until now, my “main” computer has stayed in the Cities.  It has all my specialty software installed – including SportTracks for tracking my workouts, and Scrapbook Factory for designing Christmas letters and creative photo pages – and stores all my photos and files.  In Duluth I have used a hand-me-down computer, which I primarily use to connect to the internet, do email, write on my blog, and use Word and Excel.  Any files I need from my main computer are accessible by virtue of using Carbonite for online backups or with Dropbox.  It’s a system that has worked well so far.  But now that has changed.  Recently I loaded up my main computer and moved it to Duluth.  For a technophile like me, that’s making a statement.  Duluth is becoming our real home.

Turnabout

Just yesterday I was complaining about the cold. This morning I am writing this post out on my front deck! The thermometer reads 42 degrees, but the sun is shining and I am well protected from the wind. We learned early on in the building process that the deck was perfectly positioned for morning coffee, lunch or just reading. We’d like to say we planned it that way, but we didn’t have that much foresight. The deck faces south, which also happens to be the only side of the house that we could not leave wooded in the building process. All that big equipment needed access to the site somewhere. But once we discovered the windfall in sunshine that resulted, we loved it. It’s all the better in the seasons when the leaves are down and the sun lingers longer on the deck. We have planted new trees on that side of the house, and added to them each year so far, but this time we are planning the result – they are strategically placed so as not to shade the deck, even when fully grown.  The addition of Adirondack chairs was a requirement for me.  Nothing denotes relaxation like an Adirondack chair.  And being Polywood, they can be out year-round.  Another necessity.

I can hear Amity Creek flowing, a bit of wind blowing, small animals scurrying in our woods and birds twittering. Can winter really be right around the corner?

Playing Favorites

We have always had a favorite restaurant. A place where we were regulars, could go on a whim, and know we’d be well taken care of and have a good experience. It’s not something we set out to find, it just happened. Over time, we discovered that we consistently chose that particular restaurant when we wanted to relax, spend some time together and have a meal out. In fact, as I look back, we also fell into predictable patterns when it came to ordering as well – we each had our favorites that we ordered consistently.

Our first home was near Trenton, New Jersey. We commuted to work together, and at our exit on the way home was a place called the Yardville Hotel. It was in Yardville, but it hadn’t been a hotel for years. But it was a comfortable, small restaurant that served good Italian food. My favorite was the meatball sub sandwich and I could count on Rich to order a pizza. Including our side salads and requisite half liter of wine, our bill was under $20 including tip. Rich even went there the night after our first baby was born, and baby Karen made her debut just ten days later. She spent many a dinner hour there in her stroller snoozing by our table.

During our child rearing years in the Twin Cities, Marcello’s Pizza became our regular haunt. We all loved the pizza and it was our favorite Friday night place. Suckers for the kids, and Dad the Monster chasing the kids down the deserted hallway of the mall after dinner were part of the ritual.

Since then, D’Amico and Sons has been our hang-out. We know the staff well, enjoy being able to eat outside in the summer months, and like the ambiance. We’re comfortable there and have mulled over issues as well as celebrated good news there. It has a varied menu, although once again we usually stick to our favorites – pepperoni pizza for Rich and the basic Neapolitan for me. Side salads and wine are still requirements, but the bill is higher these days.

Now that we’ve moved to Duluth, we are in need of a new regular spot. There are many good restaurants that we like, but so far none fits the bill for an old standby. Perhaps we’re trying too hard. We’ve gone out several times thinking “this is going to be it” but always leave still searching. We should know better. A favorite isn’t selected, it happens. Until then, we’ll enjoy sampling the local offerings.

Oh, sew much fun!

I love to sew.  It’s so rewarding to create clothing or household items from scratch.  I have my mom to thank for teaching me her extensive skills, and my faithful Elna sewing machine that was my college graduation present and has served me well ever since.  When the kids were little, I added a serger and went to town creating sweatsuits, t-shirts, pajamas and Zubaz (remember those?) for just pennies.  As work became more demanding and our income rose, my sewing took a holiday while I focused on family time.  But retirement has given me the opportunity to resume, and grandchildren are the perfect excuse to dust off those sewing machines.

My first foray into this renewed sewing venture was pajamas.  Each year for Christmas I would make matching pajamas for our three children.  You’d be surprised at how old they were by the time that tradition was set aside!  This time I started with slipper-jammies.  You know, the soft fluffy kind that have feet and zip

up from one ankle to the neck.  And I’ve  now doubled the ante – one set with Christmas designs to wear leading up to Christmas (and beyond since their mom is as practical as I am) and another in a winter motif to find under the tree.  We’ll see if that keeps up as the number of grandchildren grows…

Next I need to fire up the serger again.  I’m sure I will need to re-educate myself on how to thread it and the intricacies of how to do the different stitches.  I have vivid memories of how tricky it is to get all four spools threaded properly and get good stitches going.  I’ll need patience, I know.  I was amazed, though, at the dearth of knit fabrics and ribbing available in the stores now.  Did women give up their sergers?  I used to have volumes of bolts to choose from, with all sorts of patterns and colors.  Whatever happened to sweatshirt material, or interlock?

Sewing in general seems on the downswing.  I will admit with some regret that I did not foster my daughter’s sewing skills to the same degree.  Fabric stores have closed by the dozens, particularly those that were dedicated to sewing alone.  How well I remember going down to Minneapolis from Duluth just to shop at Amluxen’s downtown.  They had at least two floors full of fabrics, and I always saved my money to buy my favorite fabric there – Pendleton wool.  There was no finer wool or more beautiful plaids.  But then again, we dressed differently in those days, and had more use for those formal fabrics.

I’ve never been big on following trends, so I’ll hang in there and keep sewing as long as I can find fabric.  And it’s time to get going on those PJs that go under the tree.