And the other gold

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Make new friends, but keep the old,
One is silver and the other gold.

It was years ago that we learned that little song, which we sang as a round in Girl Scouts. But it’s never been more true. And in this summer filled with reunions with family and friends, I have had ample opportunity to appreciate its message.

It was over a year ago that I contacted Zohreh about our reunion. She was the AFS student from Iran during my senior year in high school, and when presented with the idea of coming for our reunion, she jumped right on board. And having committed, even way back then, I knew she’d come. Even after 40 years.

Over that time we had not only kept in touch but we visited Zohreh and her family in Paris, where she now makes her home. And she welcomed our son during his backpacking tour of Europe so that he could see the Tour de France finish on the Champs-Élysées. In between were the annual Christmas letters and occasional emails. But as soon as she stepped into our house in Duluth, it was as if we’d been together yesterday.

We had a magical three days, revisiting the places she’d known so well during her AFS year here and sharing her memories and experiences with her family. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I loved reliving it all through her eyes. Duluth provided beautiful weather, showing off the renewed lakefront and sparkling off the ubiquitous Lake Superior.

The best part of all was reconnecting with our close group of friends from high school. A small brunch turned into a half-day affair when we all gathered to talk and share our past and the intervening years. Laughing over year book pictures, recalling stories of adventures in high school, and updating one another on our own families easily filled the hours. The luxury of talking in small groups, and having one-on-one conversations kept everyone riveted and ultimately spilled over into a lengthy breakfast together again the following day.

IMG_9707 trimmedRecapturing those friendships became the heart of the reunion weekend. It’s what made it worth coming together, to renew the connections we made so long ago and still value. It will be the core of my memories of that 40th high school reunion. Spending time with golden friends.

Springtime Revisited

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It wasn’t intentional, but it has been very enjoyable.  We have managed to experience spring flowers several times over this year!  Clearly our recent passion for photography has peaked our interest in wildflowers, and our antennae go up each time we spot color on the roadside.

Our first taste was on our Upper Mississippi River Cycling Tour.  Snow had barely receded from the roadsides in Duluth when Driveway flowerswe set off for our trip in mid-May.  Cycling south along the Mississippi River, we jumped into spring weather that we only dreamed of up north.  Sprays of wildflowers grew up along the train tracks that bordered the river.  The Root River bicycle trail provided a tunnel of blooming apple trees. Colorful carpets of lavender flowers carpeted the banks of a driveway, and we glimpsed our first lilacs in bloom.

picstitchFourth of July week was spent at the cabin.  By then spring had advanced to northern Minnesota, and the warm sunny days brought out new blossoms every day.  I had just learned “macro photography” in my photography class, so I practiced taking close-ups of wildflowers on our bike rides.  They made for rewarding subjects, with their bright colors and intricate patterns.  As long as the wind wasn’t blowing.

Pink flowers

 

Lake Superior exerted her usual chilling influence on the North Shore.  This week the same flowers we saw at the cabin finally repeated themselves along the shoreline, as well as some new varieties.  And the lilacs bloomed on our street, with their intoxicating scent.  It’s mid-July and spring has finally made its way to Duluth.  Round three and we’re still enjoying it.

Of Bug Bites and Army Worms

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We all returned home from the cabin with tangible reminders of our stay in the North Woods. The itchy red welts dotting our arms, legs and faces are testimony to the many hours we spent outdoors. Or the nights we spent fending off the persistent buzzing mosquitoes that found their way inside. It wouldn’t be the cabin if it were a pristine environment. And we wouldn’t keep going if we didn’t love it there.

The notoriously late spring and summer this year brought a new attraction at the end of our dock. Odd round divots appeared on the murky bottom, each continuously guarded by a small fish. They only abandoned their posts when a huge Leopard Muskie came into the shallows to lurk. It would appear we had spawning grounds still active in July! When I stood too close to their territory, the fish aggressively bumped my ankles. It seemed a small price to pay to watch nature at work.

The Army Worms that infested the area on our last visit were still strongly in evidence. They continued to crawl up the outside logs of the cabin, swarm the branches of the birch trees and defoliate the impatiens I so carefully planted in pots. We learned to carefully inspect the towels hung out on the line to dry. The record population was 14. But by week’s end, they had finally started cocooning which reduced the population of wiggly caterpillars. Fortunately, not even the grandkids were squeamish about picking them off their clothes and toys, and took it right in stride.

We’ve never had a nice lake bottom for swimming. It’s a combination of squishy dirt, clay that pulverizes when stepped on, and pesky weeds. But the water is super clear and always “refreshing” due to being spring-fed. Three year old Ben came prepared with water shoes to shield his tender feet (or sensitivities) from the yucky bottom. But they mostly went unused. It’s a lake after all. We just deal with it. And in Ben’s words, “I love the lake.”

Every so often, a bat makes its way inside the cabin. We’ve found them hanging up-side-down on the fireplace screen. And we’ve chased them around the cabin in the wee hours of the morning with a butterfly net. Some family members are not at all pleased with these guests. But so far their infrequent appearances have only left us with some funny stories.

I could go on and include the baby mice that popped up through the burners of the stove one winter. The kids took great pride in capturing them under a glass. But perhaps that would be overdoing it. After all, it’s really a very cozy cabin. Complete with creature comforts. And we love it there.

The Hardest Decision

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We’ve seen it happening over the last year. The decline in Spot’s health has been evident to all of us – losing weight, whining at night from pain, weakness in her back legs and the lackluster fur that used to shine. Through it all, she keeps on going and continues to look at us with those big dark eyes. She still tolerates the overzealous advances of our young grandchildren. And she remains totally loyal to my husband, Rich.

How do you decide when a pet’s life is no longer worth living? We’ve been over this ground so many times, hoping to delay the inevitable. It’s too easy to look past her failings and focus on her loving personality, wanting things to be all right. It’s hard to separate our desire to hang on to a beloved member of the family from the facts of her discomfort and failing body. Finding the balance is nearly impossible. Facing the hard reality of the situation is even tougher.

Photo Jul 03, 8 58 59 AMHow do you explain to two toddlers that their favorite dog is going away forever? Once resigned to the decision, we consoled ourselves with one final family week at the cabin with Spot. It’s a place she used to love to roam, enjoying her freedom from the leash, and her choice of critters to chase. Watching the grandkids petting Spot for the last time without really understanding was heartbreaking. Tears flowed freely as our daughter knowingly bid Spot farewell. Tonight our sons will have their opportunity, one via Skype from Washington DC.

How do you console a husband, who is losing his faithful friend? She may be a family pet, but when we rescued her as a stray and brought her home with us, she immediately attached herself to Rich. For twelve years he has taken her for the lion’s share of her walks. She has slept by his bedside every night. And she is the only dog he’s ever had.

Tomorrow is Spot’s final day. She’s had a good life, and greatly enriched ours. She will leave a big gap in our lives, which we will endeavor to fill with many great memories. But it’s still a hard decision. Very hard.

IMG_1999 cropped

Spot in her younger days, patiently tolerating a new kitten

Cabin Imagery

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We have had an unbelievable string of perfect cabin days. And it’s the 4th of July week to boot, so untold numbers of cabin owners and renters are sure to be benefitting from this gift of beautiful weather. Warm days, bordering on hot, with constant sunshine and just enough breeze to discourage the mosquitos and flies (well, mostly). Nights that cool down for good sleeping. It’s the way we like to remember being at the cabin, despite being a rare phenomenon.

It’s been a week filled with favorite things. Sometimes pictures say it better than words.

Cabin images

Capturing the Northern Lights

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When it comes to night time photography, I will readily admit that my husband, Rich, is far more invested in it than I am. He constantly tracks the solar activity with his tablet apps, reads what the local experts are saying, and gets alerts to tell him the likelihood of Northern Lights appearing. Most nights I let him get up while I roll over for more sleep.

Last night I agreed to doing some “star tracks” – photographing the stars with a long exposure to show their movement through the sky. It meant getting up at midnight and setting up our cameras for a 30 minute exposure. The benefit of being at the cabin was the short distance from our beds to the tripods down on the shore. We could easily retreat from the bugs and hang out in comfort while waiting for our photo shoot to finish. That worked for me.

Northern Lights over North Star Lake

Upon our return to the dock, the faint green glow we'd noticed earlier above the lake had intensified to a level of bona fide Northern Lights. We quickly turned our cameras toward the light activity, readjusted our settings and set out to capture the display. I found it to be a lot more rewarding than star tracks. With only 60 second exposures, we had rapid feedback for each photo, and plenty of time to shoot and reshoot. Good thing, as I still fumbled through the settings and made plenty of blunders along the way. But no matter, the lights obliged with changing shapes and degrees of brightness, providing plenty of material for practicing.

Northern Light with the Big Dipper

To be honest, it wasn't the most spectacular display of Northern Lights I've ever seen. But their reflection in the calm lake was a bonus. And seeing the results on my little camera screen was even more rewarding. In fact, they looked better there than in reality. I know I shouldn't admit that. Sometimes the camera can enhance nature, and it may be best to keep mum. But I'm still learning on all fronts.

In time I was able to tear my focus away from just the Northern Lights and consider other elements in my view. I was especially pleased with my attempt to get both the Lights and the Big Dipper in one photo.

Northern Lights through the trees

We were out on the dock for hours. It was past 3:00 am by the time we were ready to fold up our tripods and turn off the cameras. But I was no longer tired, and had learned to endure the biting mosquitos without flinching and jeopardizing my photos.

Our star track photos turned out to be duds, and we deleted them without hesitation. But they were well worth it for leading us to the Northern Lights display. Next time Rich's alerts go off, I think I'll crawl out of bed with him. I'd like to capture them again.

 

The Showy Lady’s-slipper

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My bike route was not an inspiring one. It was a straight out and back ride on a quiet road that offered little variation in scenery. But on this particular day I found some stunning views. If you like wildflowers, that is.

With the late spring, the blooms I was enjoying were far past their normal seasons. Fields of daisies and patches of red hawkweed dominated the roadside. Sprinkled along the way were lupine, wild roses, buttercups and clumps of purple iris. And then there were all the flowers I couldn't name – numerous varieties in yellow, white and purple. But the absolute best were the Lady's-slippers.

Lady Slippers

For a span of several miles, the grassy ditches on both sides of the road were richly adorned with clusters of the beautiful flower. I was thrilled to see the first few blossoms, followed by amazement at how ubiquitous they were. Despite being Minnesota's state flower, I usually consider them to be a rare find. This was a showy display.

What added to their appeal was the brilliance of their color. These were not demure pink flowers. They had richly colored bulbs bordering on deep purple. They stood out in sharp contrast against the fresh spring greenery.

These Lady's-slippers lived up to their name – they were showy indeed. And turned an ordinary bike ride into one of delight.

 

Gaspé – The Ultimate Cycling Tour

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It’s been in the planning stages for months.  I’ve alluded to it in several previous posts.  It’s only just over a month away.  So I think it’s time to elaborate on our plans for our most extensive cycling trip yet – The Grand Gaspé Tour.

This trip is Rich’s brain child.  That’s nothing new, he plans most of our adventures.  But the sheer magnitude of this one makes it unique.

The inspiration is his missed opportunity to take a college graduation trip.  While his friends piled into old cars to cruise the USA, Rich dove right into work at his first job.  It’s a decision he came to regret, and one he expects to rectify with this trip.  Having taken all three of our children on graduation trips when they finished college, now it’s Rich’s turn.

Gaspe V3

Our route through Maine, New Brunswick, the Gaspé Peninsula, Quebec City and New Hampshire

Since we are now both retired, we have plenty of time.  Rich took that concept literally and dreamed up a 2-month, 2,000 mile trip through the Canadian Maritimes.  When he proposed it, I jumped right on board.  After all, it combined my passion for fitness and love of travel.

The idea is to take small roads and hug the coastline as closely as possible, taking in the stunning scenery. It must be our Duluth upbringing – we just can’t get enough of coastline and water views.  We will also visit Quebec City for the first time.

For the first week our son, Carl, and my high school friend, Myra, will be cycling with us as we travel up the cost of Maine.  That week is well scripted, with reservations already in place at small motels along the way.  We plan to spend an extra day in Acadia National Park, and reach the border of Canada by the week’s end.

From there on, we’re on our own.  And it’s all virgin territory.  We’ve never cycled with such an open agenda and flexibility before.  We know that if we maintain our normal pace, doing about 60 miles a day, we could complete the route in under 6 weeks, even taking one rest day per week.  But the idea isn’t to just cover the miles.  We have enough extra time to allow spontaneous side trips.  If we like a place, we can stay longer.  If the weather turns rotten, we can wait it out.  Even our end date is loose – we can extend that too, if we choose.

Some of our kids keep wondering just why we’d want to do this.  Who in their right minds would  spend two months on a bicycle with only the contents of their paniers?   WeGaspe Jersey Back just smile and nod, looking forward to the challenge and seeing the countryside up close, at cycling pace.

So come August and September that’s where we’ll be.  On the Grand Gaspé Tour.  You can’t miss us.  We’ll be the ones sporting the lighthouses.

The Second Century

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After the cold and wet weekend, it was hard to believe the forecast for a beautiful sunny day on Monday.  Crossing our fingers, my friend Myra and I planned our second annual Century Ride, and were pleased when the weatherman was right for once.

Brimson Century Ride MapOur inaugural 100-mile bike ride last summer was a flat out and back ride on a smooth bike trail.  A good start for novices.  This year we took on a more ambitious route.  We wanted a circle tour with nice scenery, good roads and little traffic.  We quickly settled on the little town of Brimson for our destination, and by manipulating the course with a few detours to add mileage, we finally came up with a good route.  My husband Rich warned that it was too hilly for such a long ride, but that only solidified our determination to stick with the plan.

The good news was that we did most of our hill work at the outset.  Before the sun had an IMG_0114opportunity to heat up the day, we had the bulk of our climbing behind us.  Once inland, we only had rolling hills, and those created more interest than nuisance.  It was a very green route, lined by trees and with little other variation besides the wildflowers blooming on the wayside.  We had hoped to see the numerous lakes that line Pequaywn Lake Road, but they were hidden by those same trees.  However, we did enjoy the unique mailbox that confirmed there must be a lake nearby!

Lunchtime brought us to Brimson, which conveniently happened to be our half-way point.  We didn’t find much evidence of a town, but Hugo’s Bar and General Store provided shade for our picnic as we refueled for the next leg our of ride.

Having attained a nice altitude, our Brimson Century Ride elevationspayback came on our descent into Two Harbors.  It was a straight shot down toward Lake Superior, but it wasn’t as smooth sailing as expected.  We found ourselves pedaling straight into a stiff wind which checked our pace.  I didn’t mind.  It saved wear and tear on my brakes.  On the intermittent uphills Myra admitted to drafting behind me, but somehow I doubt I was much of a windbreak.

We were surprised how quickly the miles mounted up behind us.  Without any major sights to distract us, we took just a few breaks for food and to replenish our water supplies.  Our final rest was a requisite DQ stop in Two Harbors.  After all, what’s the purpose of cycling if we don’t have ice cream?  Heading down the Scenic Highway back to Duluth, we welcomed the slightly cooler breezes delivered by Lake Superior.  By that time we were counting down the miles – not that we were tired or anything…

It felt good to finish, with a great sense of accomplishment.  And we were still smiling!  IMG_0117

Myra, as well as our son Carl, will be joining Rich and me for the first week of our Grand Gaspé Cycling tour later in the summer.  On that trip we will need to push on, day after day, regardless of what the weatherman delivers.  No matter how relentless the hills.  Whatever the road conditions.  I think we can handle it.

Post-race Rehash

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A marathon or half marathon takes only a few hours to run, but requires at least two days to dissect and re-live.  Since yesterday’s Garry Bjorklund Half Marathon my son, Erik, and I have been doing just that.  It’s best to have a family member with whom one can share this activity.  It just doesn’t have the same appeal to those who did not participate in the race.

DSC_0041The first rush comes in the finishing chute.  Erik was there waiting for me, and we quickly shared notes on our finishing times.  He clocked a fast 1:33 compared to my 1:52 finish, but we both beat our goal times and shared a common surge of accomplishment.  The cold, foggy, windy day was perfect for running, but did not encourage lingering after the race.  Basking in the afterglow soon cooled to shivering in the wind, so we headed home to continue reviewing the race.

The initial burst of analysis is focused on times.  With the aid of our Garmins GPS watches, we could quickly distill the race down to mile splits and paces.  “Here’s where I slowed down,” and “Look how I picked up my pace at the end” punctuated our detailed view of the data.  Even if we don’t remember the nuances of our progress along the course, aided by technology we could reconstruct the journey.

The instant availability of race results online takes the discussion in a whole new direction.  Suddenly we can see how we stacked up against the whole field of runners, our sex and age classification.  The topic takes on renewed energy, as we then hunt down the results for family, friends and loose acquaintances who ran the race.

IMG_0113 trimmedOnce showered, fed and sporting our new Finisher T-shirts, the intensity of our scrutiny dwindles, and we can even engage in normal conversation.  But fair warning to family members – any comment can readily trigger a return to the race route and a related comment.  Particularly over dinner that evening when congregated with spectators and supporters.

Morning brings the newspaper coverage of the race.  Admittedly it is already dated, and although we rarely read the physical print edition any more, the race requires a purchase.  There is nothing like pouring over the list of finishers in tiny print, checking the times of the top age group runners, and reading the stories of victories and personal experiences.  It not only refuels the post-race frenzy but spawns new ambitions and challenges.  “If only” in this race is converted to “next time.”

Didn’t I tell you I’d be reconsidering a return to the full marathon?  It must be catching.  Erik just signed up for the Twin Cities Marathon.  I think I need more time to rehash that decision before committing.  Maybe next year.