Showing posts with label Lake Superior. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lake Superior. Show all posts

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Squeezing One Last Swimming Day out of Summer


The fact no one else was in the water should have told us we were crazy.

We average two months of decent summer up here on Lake Superior's south shore. 

Observant, seize the day kind of people can squeeze one or two more swimming days out of September if they are willing to drop everything at a moment's notice and run, not walk to make hay while the lake's liquid.

Successful September swims require 75 degrees or better weather with little wind blowing the right direction. None is even better. Wind direction determines whether COLD or Lake Superior "warm" water (cold to anyone but locals) is in the bay.

Sunday afternoon, we grabbed sandwiches, swimsuits, towels, books, and a Golden Retriever and took our chances.

It was nice. Everything you'd want a stolen day to be. 



Amy and Tucker

 

 Wait for it, Tucker

(Could someone please inform my husband that his shirt and
shorts don't go together.He doesn't trust my fashion judgment.)


 Tucker loves to chase sticks but doesn't like to bring them back.




Kiah



Anna


The shake-off


 Reading and beaches goes hand in hand


Lani (13), Anna (18), Kiah (23), and Amy (15)


"Kiah, don't touch me. You're cold."



 A different kind of sand castle


Reluctantly getting ready to leave



Tired, wet dog on my lap for the half-hour drive home



“Play in the sand; splash in the water; get dirty; get wet. 
The beach is the only place my mom doesn’t get mad 
about me doing that stuff. Of course I love the beach!”
--Dixie Dykens (age 5)--

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

A Really Nice Birthday Gift

(Please indulge me a long post because it's my birthday today.)

If you see me riding a bike around the block several times a day, it’s because of a weekend camping inspiration. I decided that back home, if I rode three blocks to the bathroom every time nature called, my extra weight would come off in no time. The drawback to this bike/bathroom weight loss system is it won’t work well in the middle of the night or when snow’s on the ground. 

The younger girls and I have taken an early September camping trip for the last seven years, excluding 2010 for reasons I can’t remember. 2011 and this year we went to Big Bay State Park on nearby Madeline Island.

On the way there we heard an alarming sound on the van's left side. We hoped it wouldn’t be trip-cancelling but the sound worsened the farther we drove. Keith checked the van and discovered a wrongly-folded mud flap rubbing the tire was responsible for the alarming noise. Would that all of life’s problems were solved so easily.

It’s bothers me immensely that the state of Wisconsin put a state park on the back side of an island accessible only by expensive ferry or even more expensive personal watercraft.  I justified the expense as a birthday treat, but still cringed at the $76 charge for four people and a big van.

Other than the outrageous price tag, the ferry was fun and different and whetted our appetite for the camping trip. 


Our van looked like a red Twizzler in a bag of black licorice.


Last year’s campsite was unavailable. While driving around, deciding on just the right spot, we raided firewood from unoccupied campsites. We set up camp and Anna’s Conserve School experience last fall enabled her to direct the tent raising. 


We conquered our big hard-to-put-up tent, though the rain fly was noticeably off-center. 


Amy strung a hammock to sleep on behind the tent. Her first attempt crashed when both she and Lani got on. The second attempt held firm.


I noticed our queen air mattress had packing tape patches. Though I’d never heard packing tape recommended for patching air mattresses, I optimistically filled the air mattress, then looked at the two twins. Their missing caps confirmed my suspicions. We’d brought the wrong ones. What are the chances that out of the six air mattresses we own, we’d grab the three that don’t work. Not sure why we still have three broken air mattresses. Probably some delusional hope that one day we’ll actually repair them.

That evening we walked to the prettiest public beach on Lake Superior’s South shore. 


It is well worth the drive and irritating ferry expense to get there. We were disappointed that the weather never warmed enough for us to swim this year. We wore long pants and sweatshirts, wistfully remembering last year’s wonderful swims.




By bedtime, the only hopefully working air mattress had wilted. I refilled the mattress, hoping that we could get to sleep before it deflated. Lani and I felt air slowly leak out. Forty-five minutes later we were lying on a 1/8 in. cushion of air.  The thin foam sleeping pad I used instead earns a D- for air mattress substitutions.

To make matters worse, I’d forgotten my pillow. Anna stuck a folded sweatshirt under my head. Though better than nothing, folded sweatshirts rate a C- for pillow substitutions.

I’d forgotten to bring reading material (do you notice a pattern here?) so played with my cell phone. No cell phone reception but I could send and receive texts. I rarely text because I don’t like tiny keyboards or paying for individual texts since I don’t have unlimited texting.

I texted back and forth with all three oldest daughters. I’m still amazed by modern technology. Words sent from their phone, flying through the air, bouncing off satellite towers, seeking and homing in, like a carrier pigeon, to find my cheap tracfone in a cool looking Coleman tent in a state park on the back side of Madeline Island.

I couldn’t sleep. I love the sound of wind blowing through the trees, but not the sound of wind BLOWING through the trees. I started to worry and anxious thoughts looped through my tired brain.

Is a storm coming?  Will a tree blow down?  Should I sleep in the van?  Should I wake the girls and make them sleep in the van and be forever ridiculed for being chicken-hearted?  Will the wind whip up campfire coals and burn down the park?  Do park rangers warn people of dangers? Can they hear the dangers if they’re in their quiet houses sleeping in comfortable beds instead of on uncomfortable sleeping pads? If there are dangers, do rangers come up to the tent?  Would that freak me out if they did?  Or do rangers drive through the park with megaphones and shout, “Severe weather – seek better shelter.” Was Amy safe in the hammock?  What about bears? I’m probably too neurotic to be a camper.

The wind calmed down and I finally drifted off to sleep—warm, but slightly uncomfortable, and hoping not to be stiff the next day.

Saturday

Breakfast was tasty, although we realized we’d forgotten to bring a ladle to dip heated water for hot chocolate.

After breakfast clean-up, we felt sprinkles. Just in case they escalated, Amy moved her bedding from hammock to van. Good thing, because we soon had an unforecasted downpour.  I don’t mind weather that’s better than the forecast, but hate when weather is worse than predicted.

Thankfully, the tent didn’t leak. A few drops fell on Lani’s book, but that might be because of the off-kilter rain fly. We read in the tent for an hour. Anna lent me Aldo Leopold’s Sand County Almanac. Nothing about that title inspired a read, but bereft of anything else, I gave it a try, only to be pleasantly surprised. Good Stuff!!! Insightful, literary, wise, thought-provoking. A nice way to wait out a rude rainfall.

Everything was soaking wet. Rather than succumb to motorhome envy, we drove into the cute little town of LaPointe. LaPointe is one of the oldest towns in America, dating back to 17th century fur trappers. Now it’s mostly a tourist town.

Our best discovery was the cutest library we’ve ever seen. It’s in an old house, with nooks and crannies, charm, character, personality, and a hammock out back to lay and read books in. Unfortunately we got there at closing time.







After walking through shops and touching everything but buying nothing except a used Artemis Fowl book for fifty cents, we rewarded our surviving the unwanted downpour experience with a trip to the Sugar Shack Candy Shop. We took our chocolate goodies to the now almost dry beach and thoroughly enjoyed every bite. Don’t know if other families do as much, “Can I try a bite of yours?” as we do. We all agreed maple fudge tastes better than the cookies and cream kind.

Though we’d stored our firewood under the van, it still was damp, so building a fire that night was difficult. Despite Anna’s valiant, creative techniques and using a whole box of matches, we barely got the soup hot. We squeezed out enough heat to half-way cook a half campfire pie for everyone. 



Too tired to be neurotic the second night and still uncomfortable, but resigned to make the best of my air mattresslessness, I drifted off to sleep much easier.  

Sunday

I love waking up in a tent and seeing the nearby sweet sleeping faces of these children I love so much. The morning greeted us with blue skies and dry air. Vibrant colors, beautiful clouds, peaceful surroundings. Much, much nicer than yesterday.

As our little one burner camping stove heated water, Anna asked about a weird sound. I speculated it could be a breeze or more likely, the tank was almost out of fuel. We forgot to bring the extra cylinder. If the stupid, fun ferry didn’t cost so much, Keith could have brought us all the things we forgot.

Since we missed church, we had a devotional and quiet time. Then set off on a long hike along the shore. I love the soft, sweet smell of pine. 


Amy's standing on a fallen trees roots.


We passed big, beautiful rock formations. Some just had to be climbed on. 


Some just had to be hung over. 


Some just had to be put in interesting arrangements. 



After a late lunch, we dared hope the weather would be more conducive to swimming. We optimistically wore swimming suits underneath shirts and jackets. Amy lasted ten minutes, Lani lasted five, and I decided why bother. Very pretty, but breezy. We read instead, then went back to fix dinner.

We were oh so grateful when the fire started without problems. When things work right, campfire cooking is fun. We tried an idea from Family Fun’s website called “Pie on a Stick.” 



We roasted an apple on a stick about 15 minutes until the skin puckered. Then removed the skin and rolled it in cinnamon sugar. Delicious. We made one to start with, not sure how it would turn out. After two bites, Anna insisted we had time to make more.

The campers next door to us returned to their campsite at 8:00. The man looked around their spot and yelled, “Who took our firewood?” All three girls looked at me.

“I didn’t take his firewood,” I protested. Really, I only took it from unoccupied campsites. I’m not sure where his wood was, but we didn’t have it.

Instead of tossing and turning on an almost useless camping pad, I opted to sleep in the van. The good news is the van’s middle seat is much more comfortable than a thin sheet of foam. The bad news is, I’m longer than the seat. The seat is too narrow to be truly comfortable to sleep on. Plus it slants a little towards the back of the seat and has three seat belt connections that poke up. All things considered, the seat rates a B- in air mattress substitution.

I didn’t want the container of onions smelling up the van while I slept and also didn’t want it luring animals to our campsite at night, so walked it down to an unoccupied campsite three spots down. Then forgot it when we left the next day. Hopefully the rangers find it soon or it will smell pretty awful for the next campers who rent that spot.

Monday’s weather was the best of all. Too bad it came our last day. I’d forgotten to bring oatmeal so we made due with eggs and potatoes. We packed the van, then went for another hike. I tried talking the girls into swimming but they were anxious to get home. If I was choosing between going home to laundry and chores or swimming on a beautiful beach, I’d choose swimming for sure. But I like camping democracies, not camping dictatorships, so we left around 1:30.

We’d planned to revisit the library, but the camping democracy decided to take the 1:45 ferry instead of the 2:30. The camping democracy also decided to get waffle cones at the ice cream store in Bayfield.

A day later, we’re still washing laundry and putting stuff away. I had a good time and am thankful for uninterrupted time with daughters in a pretty place.   

Camping is my favorite way to spend a birthday. If you want to make me happy, go camping with me. Along with hiking, or playing Boggle, Catan, or Ticket to Ride, I guess I most prefer the gifts of time. Thanks girls for the gift of your time this weekend.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Point to LaPointe Swim

My oldest child Christina, is always looking for new adventures. This summer's challenge was the 2.1 mile Point to LaPointe open water swim on Lake Superior from Bayfield to Madeline Island in Northern Wisconsin.  

The swim was a fundraiser for the Bayfield Recreational Center. Bayfield is a half hour north of our house and almost as far north in Wisconsin and you can go. LaPointe is a fun tourist town across the bay on nearby Madeline Island, which is part of the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore.

When Christina signed up to boldly go where no Vik has gone before, the family rolled their eyes and said "encouraging" things like,
      "Why would anyone want to do that?"
     "Are you sure you can swim that far?"
     "Will there be lifeguards?"

A determined young lady, she is. She planned. She trained. She prepared. 

As the big day approached I pondered how to see the race. Watching her swim would be harder than watching a cross-country meet. I could watch the swimmers take off but couldn't get to the other side to see her finish. Then I had a great idea. Every swimmer has someone kayak near them in case anything goes wrong. A friend from church agreed to be Christina's kayak support. If he took a two-person kayak, I could be the second person. Brilliant, I know.

I asked Brendon if I could ride over with him. He politely asked if I had talked to Christina about this. No, I hadn't, but I didn't see why she'd care - she'd be in the water.

Christina walked in the room about then and got wind of my request. She wasn't so polite. "Mom, you can't do this. Our support teams have to be experienced kayakers. You've never been in a kayak."

I didn't see why that mattered as long as Brendon was experienced. I would be just a passenger, he'd do all the work. :)

The full impact of my request hit me and I knew she was right, but didn't want to admit it. When I stopped to think about it, I probably wouldn't want to be out one mile from shore in a small kayak. Only if the lake was very calm would I even consider it. The odds of me bailing were high. Plus the race started at 7:00 am. Watching people swim that early is not this nightowl's idea of a good time. I withdrew my request, but not because Christina didn't think I could do it.

About this time someone remembered that I had a Ladies breakfast to attend that same morning. Drats. I'd forgotten all about that. Keith and a friend ended up going to watch the race. They saw her take off and took the ferry over to the island (way easier than kayaking) and watched her finish, while my friends and I ate eggs and bacon at the Lake Rock Cafe. 

450 swimmers participated in three divisions:  Male competitive, Female competitive, and community swimmers. Christina was in the last group. The men left first, then the women, and then Christina's group.



See the front kayak hole - that could have been my spot.


Instead Brendon had a young man from his soccer team kayak over with him.

Before long, swimmers and kayaks were spread out all over the two mile route. Christina plugged valiantly away.

(Later, after the race, Brendon's Mom said, "I don't know how much help he'd of been if she struggled. Would he just be marking the spot where she went down?" I'm so glad she hadn't shared that cheerful thought before the race.)


"I think I can, I think I can!"


She finished with a time of 1hour and 55 minutes





Afterwards she kayaked two miles back to Bayfield with Brendon, worked six hours, and rode four hours to Minneapolis for a party. Kids these days.

Here's a one minute video of her finish. 



Bless her determined heart, she was one of the last people in her age group to finish. But we're all amazed that she made it and think that simply attempting and finishing is a wonderful thing. I'm pretty sure I couldn't swim two hundred yards even if it mean winning a year's supply of free Taco Bell Chicken Burritos.

We're proud of Christina and enjoy vicariously participating in her adventures. 

Way to go Sweetie!

Thursday, July 5, 2012

I Should Know Better

The good news is my legs are no longer pasty white. The bad news is pink is painful.

I made a strategic error yesterday. Me, who routinely tells my children to use sunscreen, forgot to take her own advice. 


I view my painful, bright red striped legs, and think, “Angie, you idiot.”

Yesterday Keith and I took our first beach trip of the 2012 summer season. The beach was calling his name and he was eager to answer its call.

He gives me the stink-eye when I stop to chop celery. I’m still trying to lose weight and know that sunbathing is strenuous work and I will probably work up an appetite so wanted to bring food that won’t sabotage my diet.

He can’t understand why it takes females so long to get ready. He grabs his swim trunks and towel and is good to go. He wisely bites his tongue and putters in the garage while I get ready.

Even after losing weight this year, I dread being seen in a swimsuit. My twenty-year-old swimsuit died two years ago and hasn’t been replaced. It’s painful to see my lumpy reflection in the mirror and I hesitate to inflict this seen-better-days body on people who go to the beach to relax, not be scared.

I borrow Erica’s swimsuit. A ten minute search finally locates my black swimshorts in Christina’s laundry basket, wet from yesterday’s canoe trip. Drying the shorts takes another ten minutes.

At last we are on the way. I hesitate to ask, hoping Keith has a few more molecules of patience. “Can we stop at Subway?”

“Seriously?”

“Well, it is lunchtime.”

“Fine.” (Insert irritated, impatient martyr’s voice.)

Erica and I split a footlong Weight-Watcher approved Turkey Breast sandwich on 9-grain Wheat bread. Forty minutes later we’re at the beach. There are closer beaches but Cornucopia is by far Keith’s favorite.

To save time I apply 50 SPF sunscreen in the car. I thoroughly cover the front and sides of my aging body, intending to do the back when I get out of the car. 

Our corner of Lake Superior has not fully recovered from recent storms and flooding. Small choppy waves slap the shore and leave an unattractive two-foot band of floating debris. First-time visitors to Lake Superior might assume the lake is always brown and cloudy and full of debris. They won’t know the lake is normally clear and beautiful.

It’s a little windy. We choose a spot and settle in. I sit in my chair covered with a big beach towel. Keith doesn’t care that it’s cold. He’s determined that no matter what, it’s summer and he’s going in the water.

I can’t get warm. Rather than a swimsuit, I should have worn sweatclothes. I spread my towel and am happy to find that it is much nicer down on the sand out of the wind.

Sadly, I forget to put sunscreen on my back side. So while I’m contentedly enjoying the warm sand, reading Coop by Michael Perry, the sun broils my hinter regions.

Thankfully we don’t stay long. Keith doesn’t want to press his winter-white body’s luck during his first summer beach excursion. We leave relaxed and refreshed after an hour of beach therapy.

Three hours later Keith says that I’m sunburned. I don’t feel sunburned so shrug off his comment. While grocery-shopping, I notice that my legs are sore but I’m on a mission so don’t give it much thought.

Back home, I finally pay attention and am horrified to see a bright pink uneven stripe down the back of my legs. I wonder if it’s a bug bite and maybe a life-threatening infection is running down my leg, until I notice the stripe stops at the swimshort line.

I am dumbfounded to be sunburned. Me, the sensible, cautious, careful one, who always slathers sunscreen on anyone who will let me, has done the unthinkable. I have the world’s wonkiest sunburn. I can’t figure out why I have a pink skunk stripe.

Then I remember putting sunscreen on in the car. Which means the front and sides got covered, but not the back. I must not apply sunscreen evenly because the sides are jagged and uneven. There’s also a few white spots in a sea of pink. The good news is SPF 45 works. The bad news is it only works where it is applied.

The pain increases throughout the evening. I didn’t know ankles could get sunburned. Keith applies lotion and says that it has little particles. I’m still reading Coop and not paying attention until I accidentally touch the lotion which feels suspiciously like face scrub. Keith looks at the bottle again and sees that it’s labeled “Body Cleanser.”

The poor man has no way of knowing how to decipher female lotion and potion lingo. My legs start to burn, only this time from the cleanser. I quickly shower and return for round 2.

He balks when I suggest Bag Balm. Bag Balm is used on cow’s udders but also works great for diaper rashes and dry hands. He generously slathers my hind quarters and I sigh in relief. I can only lie on my front or side but it feels better. Keith complains that I stink.

My back side is very soft today. The sunburn is less painful. I move slowly and wear loose clothing. Hopefully Bag Balm washes out of our sheets.  I will never go to the beach without using sunscreen again.

If you see me moving slowly and notice that parts of my body are pink and I smell like a cow, you’ll know why.

P.S. Keith - When a woman’s in pain, she shouldn't have to worry about her husband having fun at her expense. You’d better sleep lightly if you don’t delete the I-phone picture of my burned Bag-Balmed backside you took last night.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Saturday Scraps - Super Sisters

Have camera, have something to occupy an afternoon. 















There you have it. Cheap fun at its best. 

I'm linking up with Jennifer at Knees and Paws today for her meme Saturday Scraps.
Saturday Scraps is a blog hop to share scraps of life, memory or process.
It's a friendship quilt in the making.