Around Lost Lake

This morning a brisk breeze kept flying insects away. Time to get out and about. I worked my way around exposed roots and fallen hemlocks as I circumnavigated Lost Lake. It was the first forest hike since Laura Lake in June.

(There were no hikes in Canada, the weather never allowed it. The best I could do was stroll along the various beaches as I watched storm clouds approach after I had packed up the tent. In ten minutes, raindrops started and I was back in the Subaru.)

Trees had come down at Lost Lake since I was here a year ago, but the forest service chainsaws keep the trails clear. The centuries old hemlock forest is still mostly intact. Over a decade ago, a windstorm blew down some of the giants. Gary and I counted the rings on one and realized it had begun life during the French and Indian War when George Washington was a inexperienced young officer.

I could hear the loon calling and somewhere a woodpecker was whacking away at a hollow tree, but there seem to be few animals about … or so I thought until I reached the blackberry bushes and found them stripped. That could be a bear, I thought, though deer will eat berries, too. Ranger Bob told us yesterday that the only bear the forest service has seen lately was a young male in the spring.

There are fungi such as the hoof fome.  Someone had whacked away at some of it, but there were some nice displays.

I met a family of three with baskets and told them the berries were gone. They might as well go over to Chipmunk Rapids trail where there are more bushes. Those were the only folks I saw on the trail. There are twenty-one campsites filled out of twenty-seven, but most campers sit around on lawn chairs eating and drinking while their children play in the water. I don't mind at all if they leave the woods to me.

As I got to the boat landing, I met one fellow obviously not from these parts. He was carrying a camera and wanted to know if I had seen any moose along the trail. Some moose recently wandered into Wisconsin from Michigan's Upper Peninsula, but none are here at Lost Lake as far as I know. Further, his chances of seeing moose in broad daylight … well, he could forget that. To make him feel better, I told him I hadn't seen a moose in seven trips to Canada.

He said he had been at Clam Lake earlier to photograph the elk, but had no luck there either. He seemed to be disgruntled that animals don't present themselves for their portraits. He should stick to zoos and Disneyland.

We have one wary chipmunk at camp.  He waits until after dark before coming for the peanuts I leave out. At Laura Lake at this time of year there are chipmunks all over the place and they are so tame they will sit on your lap. This little guy doesn't want to be anywhere near us so I wonder if campers have been persecuting him.  There is something else to consider:  Laura Lake campsites are surrounded by bushes so there are plenty of hiding places.  The area here is filled with wild grasses and not very tall either.  No job security for chipmunks here. 

Tonight steaks on the grill.  We're having autumn temperatures, but I love autumn so I don't mind at all.

Searching

I posted my latest short story "Library Column" at Black Coffee Fiction  http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com today but it wasn't easy.  It seemed during my entire tour last month I was searching for a hot spot and it is the same now that we are camping at Lost Lake.  Though the story was essentially done by 10:00 a.m. I wasn't able to post it until 2:00 when we drove into Iron River. We can always get on line at Angeli's Supermarket. That doesn't solve the problem though, since we can hardly drive 25 minutes every day for wi fi.

While we were in Iron River we went to the St. Vincent de Paul re-sale shop. I didn't bring enough pants since I thought I might have to leave earlier.  Now I won't be home until just before BurgerFest.  I found a pair of green tag pants for 10 cents. They fit, too.

Finally, I went on the ultimate quest:  the search for the perfect ice cream cone.  I knew exactly where to find it, at the Happy Trails Trading Post, only two blocks south of US Highway 2 on Highway 189.  The problem was getting there.  Highway 189 is under construction all the way to Highway 2.  The front of Happy Trails is closed off.  We didn't let that us deter us.  We circled around the construction and wandered until we found the back of the trading post. A sidewalk is under construction there, too, but by carefully working around that, we found the door.  I went through and went directly to the ice cream case for the ultimate chocolate:  Zanzibar made by Chocolate Shoppe Ice Cream.  I got two cones, one for me and one for Gary. This is hand scooped ice cream but so smooth it is almost custard.

The only thing about Zanzibar is that it melts so fast.  Before I could finish my cone, rivulets of dark chocolate dribbled down the front of my good jacket. The stains will never come out.  However, I bought that jacket for 50 cents at a rummage sale.  Surely another jacket is out there waiting for me at a thrift shop or yard sale.  The search is on.

Lost Lake Site 24

The beginning of this camping trip was auspicious. As I drove west of Seymour on County Highway G I spotted a flock of birds. I pulled over and counted 41 pelicans. They might be part of those I've heard were fishing on the Fox River and Lake Michigan at Green Bay. They seemed to be heading to Shiocton's Van Patten Road. If that is so, my local readers may want to go take a look.

Gary was here at Lost Lake before me setting up at site 24. Those who followed my tour in July can see the difference between my little pop up tent and what Gary has here. Besides the camper, there's a cook tent over the picnic table. I think we have eight folding chairs. Four are around the fire pit, two will be down at the beach and I'm not sure what the other two are four. There's a tent over the generator. The solar panels are in place. He will continue to set up for the next few days.

All this for the two of us.

While Gary was setting up, I took a look at the lake. We've been coming to Lost Lake for years. We've seen the lake levels go down, down, down. We thought it was the drought but this year's heavy rain should have made a difference. It didn't. The green grass here used to be a beach.

Gary went to Chipmunk Rapids to fill the four five gallon water jugs at the artesian well. This used to be a speedy process but he was gone a long time. When he returned, he reported that the people ahead of him had many containers that had to be filled. Then he found out that it took seven minutes for each of his jugs. It used to be two minutes each. The low water here at Lost Lake affects the well.

The grasses are a boon to the loon family. There are more and more places for them to hide their nest as the grasses expand.

Final Thoughts about Touring

When I was close to the end of the Canadian trip, I e-mailed my friend Norma and told her I was wondering if I should give up touring entirely.  Things were just too difficult and after all on my next birthday I will be 70.

"You'll go on more tours," she said. "There have been bad trips before and you still went on to good ones."

She was right, of course. And no matter what my age is, I have no problem setting up a tent and cooking over a propane stove.  The trip was bad because of weather and I have no control over that.

More of a problem is getting the work.  I am almost always invited back by whoever employed me, but I don't want to keep repeating tours.  I want to go to new places.  There are some states where schools and libraries are underfunded.  They have no money for entertainment.  Some systems have stringent requirements.  I would have to provide professionally done videos of my work or even go to some kind of audition and that isn't practical when it's in a far away state. If I go through a costly thing like that, I'd have to raise my prices and then I wouldn't get the work.

I've always filled in spaces between more lucrative venues with senior residences and nursing homes. There isn't a lot of money for entertainment, but it pays for my gas.  I used to simply get cash.  If there was a check it was drawn on a local bank, so that cashing it was not difficult.

The problem is that more of those homes for the elderly are owned by corporations. This usually means I don't get paid on the road. I am expected to furnish an invoice after the performance.  A month or two later a check arrives in the mail.   Even if there is a check at the venue, it will be written in some faraway city and I can't cash it locally.  I have to start the tour with enough money so I won't run short instead of working my way.

I was planning a trip to the National Storytelling Festival in Jonesborough, Tennessee with the intention of meeting up with some friends from New Zealand.  Then I would go on to South Carolina, one of the four states I've never visited.

At the moment, I am not enthusiastic about it.  The storytelling festival is an expensive proposition.  In previous years, I camped with friends at a Methodist church camp but this year it is closed for renovations. The hotels raise their prices during the festival and even then, they are booked very early.  No place for me to stay.

Tennessee schools are not well funded. The only time I told at one, they found a sponsor. With today's economy, sponsors are not easy to find.

At the moment, I don't see getting enough work from any of the usual sources to make the trip feasible.

I will probably wait for another opportunity, such as the summer reading program at the public libraries.  Meanwhile, there's the trip to Hawaii in February.  Until then, there will be camping until the beginning of October then time in the Illinois farmhouse with Gary.  I may do some nursing home work down there to pay for gas.

And if I want to see my New Zealand friends, there's alway a trip Down Under.

Catching Up

This and that:

-- Yesterday, I reached a milestone in my imaginary walk around the world:  19,000 miles.  One foot after another year in, year out.  Eventually those miles add up.  At this point I am 109 miles from Zurich, Switzerland. I figure I will finish my trip around the world by the time I am 75 years old. 

--  Today, my vanity plates arrived.  Gary's read "Mathom 1".  Mine read:

--  Seymour's Farmers' Market today and Susan, Colette and I were at the local writers' tent. Colette sold a book and that was it.  One woman told me that she loved my romance novel and had shared it with two friends.  I've been learning that a handful of copies are circulating around Seymour.  I won't get rich that way! We'll be back but it will be weather dependent.  

--  Gary and I will be going north on Thursday to camp at Lost Lake.  

******

I finished checking out the finances on the Circle Trip.

My estimate for gas was $275.00 . I paid $276.94, only $1.94 more than the estimate.  I would have been better but because of the rain, I spent less time hiking and more time driving around.  

My estimate for housing was $400.00.  I paid $425.39, or $25.39 more than my estimate.  Because of heat, rain and the twin ships arrival messing up camping plans, I spent two nights in motels and one day in a camper cabin. 

I had figured $100 for food but instead spent $154.19. Because of rain, I couldn't cook as many meals as I wanted.  I almost always managed a breakfast of oatmeal and a piece of fruit at the campground, but lunches and suppers were in restaurants.  I often had to write my blog at those restaurants unless I could find libraries, visitor centres or municipal centers with wi fi.   In a sense that $54.19 over budget was OK because I would have spent at least $50 if I were home on food anyhow. 

It was the miscellaneous items that took me way over the top.  Things like laundry, a book for Evan, a tee-shirt for Gary, postcards and so on cost me $55.21.

I earned $808 and figured I spent (deducting the $50 I would have spent on food anyhow) $861.73.  I had taken the trip around Lake Superior for $53.73.  If the weather had been workable, I would have made a small profit.

Circle Tour - Last Day

July 25, 2013

Early in the morning, I was at the front of the motel to post on this blog.  

An older woman, who may in fact be younger than me, was there smoking.  Wisconsin motels and hotels are now entirely non-smoking so she had to sit there to smoke, she said. As she talked she exposed the worst teeth I've ever seen, all rotting away, but she had an interesting story to tell.  She was moving to the Superior/Duluth area from the Twin Cities to be near her children and grandchildren. Until they could find her an apartment, she was living at this motel. She had worked in factories all her life but now had three bad discs in her back and was in pain most of the time. She had worked to put her four children through college, she said, though she had little education herself.  I hope that now they will take good care of this brave woman. 

I posted the blog, had my morning oatmeal and packed up.  Moving in and out of a motel is more time consuming than living out of my car. I had everything where I needed it in bins in the Subaru. I had to bring four of those bins into the motel, unpack them, re-pack them in the morning, and take them back out. I hit the road at 8:00 a.m.

Just east of  Superior, I made a stop at the first visitors' center in Wisconsin. There are no longer attendants, austerity moves took care of that, but I was delighted to see this:

If these vending machines are the future, I will be able to buy Snickers bars wherever I go.  Bliss!

About this time, I began to feel woozy and out of sorts.  I was having stomach problems and was sneezing a lot.  

My next stop was Lake Wanoka which was supposed to be the last campground of the trip.  I drove in, found no one around.  When I opened the car door I found out why as dozens of deer flies attacked. I drove into Ashland and asked about the weather forecast at a convenience store.  More rain, they said, and black flies, deer flies, and mosquitoes in abundance.  

I drove to a nearby cemetery and sat to ponder my options.  I was tired, coughing and sneezing. I had a headache and a gurgling stomach.  I made the decision.  I called the activity director at the nursing home where I was supposed to perform the next day.  No home wants a sick person to enter the premises.  We cancelled.  

I took a cold remedy I had with me, wandered around the cemetery a bit, wondering if this could be my final resting place. In a while, I began to feel a little better. I called my brother Carl. We had planned on meeting the next day.  He said he had a half hour for lunch then had to go deal with city council business. Like me, he got on the council.  Unlike me, he is in his second term. 

Carl and I ate over gossip and politics. The state government balanced its budget by cutting shared revenues and at the same time forbid the municipalities from raising real estate taxes. To keep the city operating they've had to institute fees on previously free services.  It's just another form of taxation so the citizens aren't going to be any better off. 

Carl has come up with some clever ideas for ways to raise funds for Ashland. He thinks outside the box, so the city is lucky to have him. 

With lunch over, I was on the road with many stops to rest. It was six hours later than I was home.  

In the end, I figured out that I was suffering not from a cold or flu but from allergy attacks due to mold, a result of rain and humidity. 

   

Circle Tour - Day 12

In Seymour, I am working hard to put everything away from the Circle Tour and to get ready for the next outing, camping with Gary at Lost Lake.  One thing to finish up is the notes on the Circle Tour.

July 24, 2013

It was another cold night at Kakabeka Falls Provincial Park.  That was fine but the continual traffic noise kept waking me up. How many lumber trucks had to go down the road. It wasn't until morning that I realized there was no traffic noise at all.  It was the thundering of the falls. The night before the wind had masked the sound.

I packed up after breakfast and a shower and headed to the north part of Thunder Bay.  I hung out at the beautiful Centennial Park, hiking around the trails for an hour until 10:00 when the activity director at the senior home arrived.  He handed me a check and wonder of wonders, I found a place to cash it.  I had money!

Then I drove to the south side for the 2:00 pm performance.  Again, I was early so I found another sweet spot, Vickers Park. I watched children at the parks program and sat at a picnic table for perhaps fifteen minutes, scribbling in my journal until I felt the rain drops. I got back to the Subaru just as the deluge hit.  I drove to the next venue and sat in the car until there was a slight let up and ran in.  This activity director also ran programs at the senior assistance home I had worked in the day before.  She handed me an envelope with cash for that one, but it was a check for this current performance.  I would have to bring it back with me to deposit at home.  Those checks from Canada usually take a while to clear and I have to pay a fee for the service.

Again, the audience liked my performance and wanted me to come back next year, but I don't know that I will be back for some time, if ever.  I made no promises.

That performance over, I headed for the border. Wonder of wonders, I was the only person crossing and the border patrol gave me no grief.  It took only one minute.

I exchanged the Canadian money at Radon's currency exchange, run by the Ojibwa.  Next stop was Grand Marais where I ate dinner at the Blue Water Cafe.  Excellent food, but once again, promised wi fi seemed not to exist.  If I spend a lot of time on my trips in places like McDonalds, Tim Hortons, or A&W, it's because their wi fi is dependable.

Still, the harbor at Grand Marais is lovely.  I walked around for a little while.

On I went, with the intention of stopping at a campground at Two Rivers.  But no, they were all full, as were the motels.  Once again, I was crossing paths with the tall ships which were heading up the lake to Duluth. Thousands of people wanted to see them so they were taking up all the housing in the area.

I had a brief stop at the Split Rock Lighthouse  It was too late to go into the lighthouse, but I could admire it from afar.

At Duluth, I found the same story.  No rooms to be had.  I kept driving and as it got darker and listened to storm warnings on the radio, I realized I wouldn't camp that night.

Just east of Superior, Wisconsin, I stopped at a McDonalds.  The manager steered me to a section of town where there were more motels.  I drove past "no vacancy" signs until I saw a budget motel.  It was a run down place with a few interesting ladies sitting around the front.  I didn't care.  I've stayed in such motels before.  I only needed a place to sleep and to write a post for this blog. The clerk at the desk (he talked to me through a window since the door was barred) gave me the key to Room 122 and the code for the wi fi.

The room way at the back of the motel proved to be lovely.  Everything was immaculately clean.  There was a microwave to cook my oatmeal in the a.m. and plenty of towels in the bathroom.  It seemed to be sound proofed as well.

The only problem was that way in the back as I was, the wi fi did not work.  I checked and found out I would have good access out on the lawn chairs out front of the motel.  I joined the ladies and e-mailed Gary to let him know where I was.

I went back to the room, wrote up the post there, then took it out to the front.  The wi fi had disappeared! As had the office.  It was closed down for the night. The ladies were in for the evening, too.

For only the sixth time since I began this blog in 2010, I failed to post.