Summer Solstice 2011

Years ago, going back to the early 1980's, folksinger Skip Jones and his artist wife Judy Gosz used to have a yearly summer solstice celebration at their home near Bowler.  Over a hundred of their friends, mostly musicians, came to pitch their tents in the woods.  Time went on and the yearly event came to an end.  We all went on to other pursuits.

This weekend, Skip decided to hold Solstice 2011, a resurrection for old friends. Originally, I planned on camping with them tonight, but I still have much to do to prepare for my tour, so Gary and I decided to spend the day instead.

Early this morning, I went on a baking marathon so we would have something to take to the potluck dinner. We brought two loaves of fudge frosted brownies, two loaves of cranberry orange bread, banana and blueberry scones.

Skip had e-mailed his phone number and instructions but I left the printout on my desk.  No problem because Gary had his trusted global positioning unit with him and he was sure it would take us exactly where we wanted to go.  It didn't.  Later we were told that in the Stockbridge-Munsee or Memonomie reservations, GPS was of no use. We wandered around for almost an hour trying to decipher what it was telling us.  So much had changed since we were last there.  Forests had grown, roads had been paved, everything looked different.

Finally, we stopped at a general store and I did what only a female can do.  I went in and asked directions.  The clerk didn't know where Skip lived but Lynette, a customer, did.  That wonderful Sakakawea of the Stockbridge-Munsee Tribe instructed us to follow her red SUV.  She said she hadn't talked to Skip and Judy in years and would love to see them again.  Through a couple of wrong turns we followed her all the way and finally found our friends.

Skip and Judy live on the banks of a sylvanl river crossed by a wooden bridge

Tents were already being set up around their house behind the fire pit.  Children and dogs scampered all over.

We walked over to Judy's studio to admire her work and came away with watercolors of Chequamagon Bay, a canoe reminiscent of Wolf River trips, and forest scenes.  Each reminded us of a pleasant memory and another story. Her studio with its skylights and big windows, flat storage, paints and paper is the perfect getaway for any artist. She has earned this great reward through her work with aspiring artists from the very young to the very old.  

From time to time, everyone made a point of stopping by the potluck buffet because each new arrival brought something interesting to eat.  

Above all there was the music. Guitars, mandolins, dulcimers, and harmonicas were scattered around the living room. Ron Miles from Minnesota, sang my request, "The Bramble and the Rose" which we all sang years ago under a tarp on a rainy day. Gary was impressed because Ron, who has worked as a forest guide, actually met environmentalist Sigurd Olsen, a hero of Gary's.  Skip sang John McCutcheon's "Gone Gonna Rise Again" about planting trees, another favorite of mine, Chuck joining in with his harmonica. Each song brought with it a happy memory.   We talked about people who we wished were with us, Anna Lee, now in Virginia Beach, "Jeanne from Racine", a hammer dulcimer player with a strong tenor voice, Larry Penn, that old Wobbly who has stood up for workers rights all his life.   They were there in our hearts.  

Along with the music we compared notes on what we had been doing over the years.  One interesting thing of note:  most of us had been protesting in Madison back in March, yet the size of the crowds had been such that we never ran into each other.  We agree that Wisconsin would have to be returned to its great progressive tradition.  It would take time, but we would all continue the struggle. 

Time came to go home. Gary and I said our goodbyes and tore ourselves away.  We got back to the road in time for the next little adventure.  A medium sized snapping turtle was on the road.  It is a native American tradition to always stop to help a turtle cross and Gary did so but snappers are not appreciative and can stretch their necks much farther than the unwary might expect. If the turtle catches hold of the hand of the herder, only cutting its head off would cause it to let go.  Gary did his herding with a couple of sticks and soon sent it on its way.   

And so ended a happy day with more memories to store away.   Happy Solstice!