Waste of Trees

Earlier this spring at a library book sale I bought books to take along on camping trips.  They were to remain in this camper for the summer. Because of the rainy days we've had over the past two weeks, I've been polishing off a book almost every day.  Until today.

I bought three books of a mystery series about a woman who creates crossword puzzles and solves murders, thinking it would be light reading. Light was right, in was banal drivel. I got as far as page 100 on the first book and threw it down. The question is whether I take the books to another library for another book sale or put them into recycling to be shredded.  The books were an awful waste of trees.

Today as I walked around the forest, I considered my leafy friends.

How many books aren't worth reading?  And these days, how many of them are self-published? As a self-published author, I count myself in that category.  How good are my books?

In the old vanity press days, self-published authors were required to order large numbers of five hundred books or more.  These usually wound up stored in garages until the author died.  The heirs finally took them to the dump.  The good news about self-published books these days is that they can be printed as needed.  I never order more than ten at a time. They aren't selling that fast but at least they go to people that appreciate them...I hope. Electronic books are even better, requiring no paper.

For the rest of this camping trip, I am sticking to e-books and leaving the trees alone.

To the Bog and Back

When a day is beautiful, you grab it and wring out every moment of it. That was the way it was today. The sun came out, the temperatures were moderate, and at least until afternoon, the mosquitoes gave up and let us be.

We sat in our lawn chairs to read and allowed the chipmunks to amuse us. We fed them peanuts. We fed them again. And again. At one point one of them was sitting next to me on the table expecting to be waited on. There are four of the little rascals, coming from four directions. When two of them arrive at the same time, chipmunk wars erupt with squeaking and chasing. Then we start all over.

At mid-morning, Gary and I got in the canoe. Throwing caution to the wind, Gary drove the canoe at 4 mph using the electric trolling motor. He says if he tinkered a bit he might get another 2 mph and then we might actually have a wake. As it is, it is the quietest way to travel, even quieter than paddling.

A juvenile eagle flew overhead, harassed by a crow.

Our destination was the far shore and the brief walk through the forest to Bog Lake.

The mountain bikers told me that when they first starting coming to Laura Lake campground 31 years ago, Bog Lake was really a bog. There is no outlet so snow and rain over the years caused it to rise up and fill in the valley. The shores are still sphagnum moss, a spongy mass Gary walks across.  I haven't the nerve. 

There we found pitcher plants blooming. The bog laurel was in flower.

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When rain threatened in the afternoon, there was only one thing to do, drive to Crandon. I wanted to see the downtown which I knew had been spruced up since last I was there. While I was on the city council, I attended a workshop on improving small town business districts and the Crandon improvements were featured. Crandon got a grant to paint the buildings with the help of a designer. It was attractive compared to other places I'd seen.

Crandon also has an ice cream parlor with 25 flavors. That was worth stopping for.

When I took my final walk around this campground, I ran across the Bartelt family who had just arrived. Gary worked for Dan when he was at Menards. They were fighting mosquitoes same as us. Tonight we sit inside this camper enjoying screened in comfort.

Tomorrow should bring another fine day. We'll see.

Rain or Shine

With rain forecast, campers pulled up tent stakes and headed home early. By noon there were only eight occupied sites. Then it didn't rain.

There is no accurate way to know what weather will be in a rain forest. The Nicolet National Forest seems to have its own system. We can check the forecasts for Rhinelander, Pembine or Laona but they don't seem to have anything to do with Laura Lake. If we drive the five miles south to Highway 8, we can go from sun to thunderstorms and vice versa.

So we occupy ourselves according to the weather. When it is pleasant, we sit in lawn chairs at the fire pit, paddle around in the canoe or take walks.

When it rains, we come inside the camper. Gary takes the couch and I take the bed in my office which is now fitted out as a sort of day bed. He took the top bunk off and shoved it under the lower bed which makes it the right height for comfortable sitting. Each in our own spots, we read. I've just finished the fifth book of this trip and started on the sixth.

I'm reminded of a Twilight Zone episode with Burgess Meredith as a half blind bank clerk who likes nothing better than to hide in the bank vault with a good book. He comes out to everyone in town wiped out. He has food, a place to live but best of all, he has all the time in the world to read. He perches on the steps of the public library and picks up books but accidentally breaks his thick glasses.

I am in heaven when it rains and there is nothing else to do but pick up yet another book. As long as I know where my readers are....

Other than reading today, we took time to go up to camp site 41. There was a rowdy bunch there last night and they left a mess. For some reason, they spread toilet paper around. Gary picked it up and put it in the fire pit for burning.

My task today was appeasing the chipmunks. They come right up to the door in the morning demanding peanuts and I do my best to oblige. I've run through half of a three pound bag so far. On a stroll, I passed another camper. The fellow was seated on a lawn chair. Next to him on a boulder was a chippy staring at him. The guy said he had run out of peanuts and was currently resorting to peanut butter M&Ms. I commiserated. He'll probably go on a peanut run tomorrow.

Gary says it is all my fault. Everyone worries about bears, but when I leave here on Wednesday morning, he will be over run by chipmunks. “Death by Chippies” will be on his tombstone.

Just another day at Laura Lake.

Days Like This

Days of rain and mosquitoes and then along comes a day that makes it all worth it.

This morning the sun came out.  Even better, like the helicopters in Apocalypse Now the dragonflies hatched out and swooped through the forest, killing mosquitoes.  The skeeters that were left were driven away by a fresh  breeze. Now we could have the best of the camping.

I needed this. At 2:00 a.m. I found the first wood tick of the season clinging to my shoulder.  I removed it but for the rest of the night I constantly felt imaginary crawly things on my person.

But no matter, after breakfast, I was out walking the trails. I soon encountered a pair of mountain bikers. I had heard one playing the guitar.  No expert, she decided to take it up when she retired.  We compared camping notes and our children who think we are nuts.  They belong to a mountain bike association that creates new trails.  Not straight, I asked, and they said, of course not. If you can't expect to see a bear or something equally interesting around the next curve, what is the point?

Along the lake side, I found a teenager pencil sketching.  She was eager to show me her sketchbook. We talked about techniques.  "I'm not very good," she said, but I disagreed. Then I told her that it doesn't really make much difference if we are good or not. Artists truly look at nature. We see every wave, every tree, every bit of what's going on out there.  It isn't the same to snap a photo. Artists take their time and get to know each leaf.

When I got back the Gaulkes had come to see us again.  They've become interested in this blog and the way we use the internet.

While all this was going on, Gary was improving our camping experience some more.  This time he worked on my office.  The room had to bunk beds, but he took the top one out and used the mattress to make the bottom bed/sofa taller and softer.  Now it is so comfortable Gary uses it, too.  It has become our favorite place to read.

When we were here only two days, a chipmunk came right up to me, stood at my feet and stared. So?  Where are the peanuts?  I think he remembered me from last year. Yesterday, I finally found a big bag of peanuts I could afford. The chipmunks (there are four) once again have their goddess of plenty.  Gary wonders what happens when I leave on Wednesday.  By then we'll be out of peanuts.  He worries they will storm the camper.

Late this afternoon, we were out in the canoe, circling the shore.

  At Seymour's citywide rummage sale, he found an electric trolling motor for the canoe. Campers can't use gas engines on Laura Lake but these little electric motors make no noise nor wake.  On windy days, we old timers struggle on the lake, but the motor is good for our aching muscles.

We checked on the loon nest.  One is always on the nest, so there must be eggs.  Soon, little fuzzy birds will be riding on their parents' backs.

Tonight, a campfire and brats on the grill.

So tomorrow rain is forecast.  Back to reading and working on new travels.  We have memories of one perfect camping day and hopes for more to come.

Sunshine and Skeeters

As expected, the weekend brought more campers.  Down at the flats, of  sites 1 to 15, there are eight filled campsites.  Here in the center loop there are four, and up on the farthest area two.  The flats are where most of the family gatherings are held so at last count there were three dogs barking, two babies crying, and I don't know how many children shrieking.Add in one huge generator.  That is why we never camp in the flats. Most of them will be gone by Sunday afternoon and once again we will be left to our quiet ways.

The rain finally let up this morning but now the mosquitoes are attacking.  Gary started a nice smoking fire and sprayed around the area so we could have a pleasant evening.

We sat down in our lawn chairs to listen to a public radio station but soon gave up.  The mosquitoes were relentless. Gary took off in the canoe to the center of the lake. I came inside the camper to write this blog. It should get quite a bit colder later on which should take care of the skeeters.  We may try again.

Still, we are happy with the rain and the bugs, they are signs of a healthy rain forest.  Over the past decade there has been terrible drought in these woods.  As late as a couple of weeks ago, there were forest fires in northwest Wisconsin but that is over for now.  Here the rivers are running high and fast.  The lakes that were so dry are now filling up.  We had to slog out several feet to launch the canoe last year.  Now we go in from the bank.

One look at the pines tells the story.  Inside, the branches are bare of needles.

But look at the tips of the branches and there is the new growth, bright green.  The forest is recovering.

With fire danger low, we once again can have campfires even if we have to share them with flying insects.

****
 Wade Peterson posted his latest short story at Black Coffee Fiction  http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com
The title is "Gifts of the Storyteller" but I am sure he is not describing this storyteller.  For one thing, I have no cleavage to speak of and I don't do fairie stories.,  But you must judge for yourselves.

***
As I was finishing the blog, Gary came up from the lake.  While he was canoeing, he spotted three swans that took off when he approached.  He thought they went over to Gordon Lake so he came for me and we drove over.  No swans but we got to see the spectacular Gordon Lake sunset.  I wished I had grabbed my camera.

When we got back I noticed a strange noise under our camper.  Two red squirrels were making whoopie.
Being the voyeur (voyeuse?) that I am I watched but it went on and on. Does it always take that long? Do squirrels get stuck together like dogs? Or was the male squirrel that good? Gary claims mating should be done by now so they were probably gay. Except for the species that are asexual, there are no species in nature that don't practice homosexuality so he  could be right.

I find nature so interesting.  Hmmm. 

Here Comes the Sun

After a night of yet more rain, we were ready to go out for a drive, this time to Iron Mountain, Michigan with a return via Florence, Wisconsin. The latter was so we could visit the St. Vincent de Paul store where Gary finally was able to score a tea kettle.  He wanted one for the cook tent.  We drove by the buffalo farm at Fence.  At one time the owner had yaks, too, but they were no longer there.

The rain quit and I was able to hike the length of the campgrounds. There was no one on the north side but a kingfisher working the shore and grumbling every time he missed his mark.  It was the type of hike I love.

It remained cloudy until we were eating our tacos at the dinette when suddenly the sun came out for the first time in four days.  "It's a miracle," Gary said, and so it seemed.  It also is probably the end of our solitary stay here at Laura Lake.  The weekend is coming and with it more campers if the weather stays like this.  Up until now, we've only had to share the campground with one or two other sets of campers.

The worst case scenario is that someone shows up with four screaming children, three yapping dogs, several cases of beer and a penchant for littering.  Once we had a guy who bragged to everyone about the generator he was able to get from a construction site.  It was heavy duty all right, it sounded like a Harley.  He kept it running day and night even though camp rules specifically state that generators have to be shut down  by 10:00 pm.  Not our kind of camping. Yes, we've had rain and mosquitoes, but we've had quiet. If Laura Lake hadn't been so cold, we could have gone skinny dipping.

Tonight the Gaulkes drove up from Mequon.  We see them every year.  Like us, they are nature lovers who appreciate the wildlife here.  Last year, we walked to the osprey nest with them and there we found a pair of swans. They talked about birds that they now see at their feeders.  The crossbills are new, they think because of global warming.

Tonight, with mosquitoes honing in, they came into our camper and we talked about what we had been doing over the winter. This year the bat houses Wayne constructed are full of those flying mosquito killers.  They went to Ranger Kevin's wedding last October and had so much fun. Over the winter they went to Florida, I went to Mississippi, Gary was in Illinois. We talked about hikes we wish we could take but we've all grown old.

So our once a year friends are here, the sun will be shining, and with a little breeze, perhaps the mosquitoes will go away.  

Lessons from Nature

There were so many things I  believed about nature when I was young that science has shown just aren't so.

When I was a kid I heard about the lifelong mating of Canada geese, surely something we should all emulate. Like the geese, we should find mates and be faithful to them. Then came the advent of DNA testing and scientists found that that yes, the geese did mate for life.  They shared nesting duties, took care of the goslings until they ready to fly off their own.  Then the parents migrate to the next nesting site. The problem is, the goslings are almost never the offspring of the male goose.  There is a lot of hanky panky going on in the goose world, it seems. This is a good thing because the gene pool is kept healthy.

This afternoon I was chatting with a loon as I walked along the lake. He followed me as I hiked, me on the path, him in the lake. I've loved loons all my life.  Their calls are part of the wild.  They gracefully float through our northern lakes every summer. They are great parents, helping the fluffy youngsters on their backs to help them learn to swim.

Loons are lovely, but they are also baby  killers. They don't like any competition on their lakes so if they spot the goose family floating past, they do what they do best.  They dive and come up under the goslings, spearing them, breaking their necks or just pulling them underwater and drowning them.  Not nice, but that is nature for you. It is about survival of the fittest.

My short story "Aesop's Fable" at Black Coffee Fiction  was about the grasshopper and the ant fable. http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/05/aesops-fable.html

Aesop was no scientist. The reality of worker ants is that instead of spending the winter enjoying the harvest as Aesop said, they die after three months. It is the grasshopper that does the best, living for an average of eleven months.

It gets worse. An ant colony is a matriarchal society with a queen at the top. It is a feminist group because most of them are female with the males used for impregnating the queen. After that, the drones are expendable and not fed.  It is a socialist organization with the many working for the good of all -- provided they are female.

Nature tells us that every species does what works the  best for them. It isn't always pretty, it doesn't conform to what we think of as morality.  But then as I often tell people, critters are not Christians.

Return to Laura Lake

I drove through pounding rain to return to Laura Lake and Gary.  I walked into the camper and headed straight to the bed.  I had been up since 4:00 a.m., did a lot of paperwork, chatted with Wade, visited the dentist, and then drove for three hours.  Time for a nap.

There is no better place to sleep than Laura Lake and today  it was rainy and cold, so what else was there to do?

Gary has been here, of course, while I was in Seymour taking care of business.  Tomorrow or the next day, he will take the Subaru and do the same route.  We will alternate trips for much of the summer.  While he is gone, I will be here reading, walking the trails, talking to other campers.  But most of the time, I will be reading and writing.

It is so peaceful here.  With cold and mosquitoes, there are only three other campsites filled, one of them by a solitary female camper I think I would like. She sits bundled up in her folding chair reading, her feet up on the picnic table.  Another adventurer.

Tonight we celebrated my return by going to Stony Ridge, a restaurant and gas station at Goodman. They have the best hamburgers around.  Now it is dark and raining once again, so we are watching Winged Migration, a French film, on the television.  It is one of the best nature documentaries ever filmed.  When we can't be out seeing nature for real, this is the next best thing.

Tonight, cold sleeping, with two extra blankets on the bed.  Maybe even a hot water bottle.

The Way it Worked Out.

So the book signing was a wash, no one showed up at all!  Book signings are like that, as I often have told Wade.  They're a crap shoot.  On a warm and sunny day like today, there was hardly anyone in the library.  On a cold, rainy day it might have been different.

As it happens, I sold two books anyhow, one to an optician's assistant during my eye appointment and another to someone at Menards.  I'm supposed to drop another off at the bank tomorrow.

With the extra time I had in Appleton, I stopped in to see Kay at Kiwi Travel.  Kay has always been my agent for overseas trips.  I am thinking of going to Hawaii this coming winter.  She knows me well and understands I don't want to do any tourist stuff, just wander around, avoiding cities. She said Kauai is the island for camping and hiking so we are thinking ahead to that.

And the year after that, another trip to New Zealand.  I still want to see the fjords and touch on the northern tip of North Island. Gary plans on going with me then.

Tomorrow, it's back to the north woods.  I haven't heard anything from Gary all day.  I expect he has been out on the lake in his canoe.  He'll be coming back to Seymour next to collect the mail and check on the house, leaving me alone in the trailer.  We intend to swap like that for much of the summer.

Working at Home

I drove back from Laura Lake this morning.  The fallen tree that covered three-quarters of the road was still there but I managed to drive around it.  Less than a mile later, I met the crew coming down the road to clear the tree.  They were coming down Wall Road so I realized there could be no flooding, so I was able to take the faster route. The rest of the trip was easy.  

There was rain here in Seymour, too, while I was gone. The plants have gone wild.  The Jerusalem artichoke, which is such a nuisance, took off so I spent an hour yanking it out of the ground. I made only a small dent in it all. The asparagus patch spouted out a dozen spears, enough for my supper.  The squash and cucumber vines have taken off.  Next time I am home I will have to do something about training them.  

The flowers continue their march into summer.  The irises are my favorite.  Georgia O'Keefe used to paint irises, showing them as the sexual forms they are....for of course, all flowers are there for sex, the means the plants use for procreation.

I did some work on the photos I've taken since the first of the year.  There's a sale on photos at Walgreens. I'll be going past a Walgreens on my way to the Appleton library tomorrow for the book signing, so I will order the photos via the internet and pick them up then. 

I've been working on a handout for the library presentation.  I will have half an hour to discuss blogging, writing and self-publishing before I begin to sign books.  That's not much time, so I will put some of the information on paper.  

By Tuesday I will be back at Laura Lake, I hope with all my work done. 

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The booksigning and lecture will be at the Appleton Public Library at 4:00 pm.  I'll have my three books there, ready to sign.