It's been about three months since my 11 month old grandson came to live at our house. We've raised four kids already, and this wasn't quite what I had in mind - nearing retirement. Still, I don't want my grandson raised by strangers, so there you are.
I'd forgotten how demanding a near infant can be. This kid is particularly demanding - in that you always have to be near him and paying attention to him, or he is crying. This is probably a result of his first few months of life. Everytime we'd have him for a day or weekend - he'd have terrible diaper rash. Hasn't had any since he came to live with us. How hard is this? Kid stinks - you change the diaper.
Anyway, with Wing and I both working - we are both ending up with a large portion of our time watching the baby. Last weekend, we decided it was time for a break. Actually, we decided seperately, and double booked suites at a beautiful little place up the Gunflint Trail. My oldest son and his wife offered to watch the baby for three days.
I would rather have tented, but I knew Wing would rather stay inside. As it turned out, I was glad for the inside place. The day we left, I came down with the 24 hour stomach flu. I spent the first day extremely glad I wasn't sleeping in a tent.
The lodge was very nice, though a far cry from the rustic inn it had been years ago when my cousin owned it. Our room had a fire place, a hot tub, a sattelite TV and internet connection, and a balcony over the lake. Though there is something to be said for all this comfort, I found myself a little nostalgic about the knotty pine wonder it had once been.
The weather was very mild and snow and sleet showers would blow in, every so often, from Lake Superior.
The second day, we set out to find some moose sheds. We drove a couple of miles and started up an old fire trail I'd helped clear in the 1970s. If I hadn't known it was there - we'd never have found it. Blazes on the trees helped, and the heavy snow had covered most of the brush that would have kept us off the trail in the summer.
Traveling through heavy forest after a new snow is one of the most beautiful times to be in the woods. Every conifer bough was heavy with snow and all the deciduous tree branches had a heavy layer of frost. The few times the sun came out everything glistened like a wedding cake. As the day wore on, the wind came up, and the frost we'd thought so pretty began to pop off the trees, with a sound like shattering window glass, and shower over us.
Our way followed a north/south maple ridge for a mile or two, backtracked SE across spruce bog for half a mile, and then up to another ridge heading north. The going was pretty good. The snow had been compacted enough, because of the warm weather, to keep us pretty much on the surface, and we only broke through a couple of times. One time, I fell, and ran my nose into a deadfall, giving me a bunch of scratches on my nose. Not that much of an injury, but a little embarrassing later at the lodge. Looked like a cat had tried to chaw it off.
The trail dropped to a river, through some aspen, and I noticed a lot of the the young aspen saplings showed rabbit sign. The best area to find sheds was just beyond the river and over a couple of ridges. Just as we were going to cross the river, sleet and snow came blowing in so we had a sleet white-out. You couldn't see 50 feet.
This wasn't so bad for me, as I had an anorek, but Wing had left hers and was wearing a down jacket. - which soon became quite damp. We took shelter amongst some thick cedars. We dug down, with our snowshoes and soon had a nice trench, about waist high. I gathered some dead branches off the trunks of the cedars, and dug some cedar knots off a rotten tree laying at the bottom of our trench. I started the fire with flint and steel and we soon had a nice blaze going. I made Wing take off the down jacket and wear a wool shirt I had in my pack, and my anorek.
In my pack, I had a very short 20 gage with a pistol grip (looks kinda like a pirate pistol), and as the weather was so warm, I hoped I might see a rabbit. Stopping on the edge of the chewed aspens, I let my eyes became acustomed to the field of white. After a time, I became aware of a snowshoe hare that had been sitting in front of me right along (they turn white in winter). He was probably there when we passed the first time. They rely on their coloring to keep them safe. You have to watch for movement of the nose and eyes, which are dark against the snow. He jumped as I raised the gun, but I soon had him and dressed him before I returned to the fire.
I got more firewood and built up the fire. I removed my wool shirt to get it dry, while Wing roasted the rabbit. We salted it with some salt packs we'd grabbed at a convenience store on the way up. Even Wing thought it tasted good.
The snow diminished, my shirt was considerably drier, and we started out across the river.
In the center, there was about a yard of open water, as this is a rather swift stream. I knew there was a ford here, rocks were sticking up everywhere, so I wasn't worried about going through - except that we'd get our feet wet. I was able to jump the open water, on snowshoes, and keep moving fast enough, when the ice broke, so I never got a foot in the water. I had Wing jump in another spot, and she hooked one of her snowshoes beneath the ice. I grabbed her and pulled, and the ice we were on, about eight feet square, all broke off. Fortunately, the ice was as thick as the water was deep, and while we got our snowshoes wet, the snowboots we were wearing kept our feet dry.
In the shallows, at the edge of the river, we came across the only shed we found. It wasn't really a shed, as it was attached to a moose skull. I found a good sized log and kept smashing at the ice - which was somewhat rotten, until I got it free, and stowed the skull in my pack - the antler hanging out and catching on everything.
We didn't go much further. The weather had warmed during the day to the point where the snow started giving way under our snowshoes. Climbing out of the valley on this side of the river turned out to be real work, and some times the snow gave to the point where I was going down three or four feet breaking trail. I started to wonder if our back trail was going to present the same kind of problem. If so, it would take us until after dark to get out.
We gave up forward progress and backtracked out. My fears were only realized in a couple of open areas. Under the trees, our old trail held fine, and we were soon out to the car and driving back to the lodge. A few minutes later, we were in the hot tub with a roaring fire in the fireplace. There is something to be said for Wing's way of "camping."
PG
I'd forgotten how demanding a near infant can be. This kid is particularly demanding - in that you always have to be near him and paying attention to him, or he is crying. This is probably a result of his first few months of life. Everytime we'd have him for a day or weekend - he'd have terrible diaper rash. Hasn't had any since he came to live with us. How hard is this? Kid stinks - you change the diaper.
Anyway, with Wing and I both working - we are both ending up with a large portion of our time watching the baby. Last weekend, we decided it was time for a break. Actually, we decided seperately, and double booked suites at a beautiful little place up the Gunflint Trail. My oldest son and his wife offered to watch the baby for three days.
I would rather have tented, but I knew Wing would rather stay inside. As it turned out, I was glad for the inside place. The day we left, I came down with the 24 hour stomach flu. I spent the first day extremely glad I wasn't sleeping in a tent.
The lodge was very nice, though a far cry from the rustic inn it had been years ago when my cousin owned it. Our room had a fire place, a hot tub, a sattelite TV and internet connection, and a balcony over the lake. Though there is something to be said for all this comfort, I found myself a little nostalgic about the knotty pine wonder it had once been.
The weather was very mild and snow and sleet showers would blow in, every so often, from Lake Superior.
The second day, we set out to find some moose sheds. We drove a couple of miles and started up an old fire trail I'd helped clear in the 1970s. If I hadn't known it was there - we'd never have found it. Blazes on the trees helped, and the heavy snow had covered most of the brush that would have kept us off the trail in the summer.
Traveling through heavy forest after a new snow is one of the most beautiful times to be in the woods. Every conifer bough was heavy with snow and all the deciduous tree branches had a heavy layer of frost. The few times the sun came out everything glistened like a wedding cake. As the day wore on, the wind came up, and the frost we'd thought so pretty began to pop off the trees, with a sound like shattering window glass, and shower over us.
Our way followed a north/south maple ridge for a mile or two, backtracked SE across spruce bog for half a mile, and then up to another ridge heading north. The going was pretty good. The snow had been compacted enough, because of the warm weather, to keep us pretty much on the surface, and we only broke through a couple of times. One time, I fell, and ran my nose into a deadfall, giving me a bunch of scratches on my nose. Not that much of an injury, but a little embarrassing later at the lodge. Looked like a cat had tried to chaw it off.
The trail dropped to a river, through some aspen, and I noticed a lot of the the young aspen saplings showed rabbit sign. The best area to find sheds was just beyond the river and over a couple of ridges. Just as we were going to cross the river, sleet and snow came blowing in so we had a sleet white-out. You couldn't see 50 feet.
This wasn't so bad for me, as I had an anorek, but Wing had left hers and was wearing a down jacket. - which soon became quite damp. We took shelter amongst some thick cedars. We dug down, with our snowshoes and soon had a nice trench, about waist high. I gathered some dead branches off the trunks of the cedars, and dug some cedar knots off a rotten tree laying at the bottom of our trench. I started the fire with flint and steel and we soon had a nice blaze going. I made Wing take off the down jacket and wear a wool shirt I had in my pack, and my anorek.
In my pack, I had a very short 20 gage with a pistol grip (looks kinda like a pirate pistol), and as the weather was so warm, I hoped I might see a rabbit. Stopping on the edge of the chewed aspens, I let my eyes became acustomed to the field of white. After a time, I became aware of a snowshoe hare that had been sitting in front of me right along (they turn white in winter). He was probably there when we passed the first time. They rely on their coloring to keep them safe. You have to watch for movement of the nose and eyes, which are dark against the snow. He jumped as I raised the gun, but I soon had him and dressed him before I returned to the fire.
I got more firewood and built up the fire. I removed my wool shirt to get it dry, while Wing roasted the rabbit. We salted it with some salt packs we'd grabbed at a convenience store on the way up. Even Wing thought it tasted good.
The snow diminished, my shirt was considerably drier, and we started out across the river.
In the center, there was about a yard of open water, as this is a rather swift stream. I knew there was a ford here, rocks were sticking up everywhere, so I wasn't worried about going through - except that we'd get our feet wet. I was able to jump the open water, on snowshoes, and keep moving fast enough, when the ice broke, so I never got a foot in the water. I had Wing jump in another spot, and she hooked one of her snowshoes beneath the ice. I grabbed her and pulled, and the ice we were on, about eight feet square, all broke off. Fortunately, the ice was as thick as the water was deep, and while we got our snowshoes wet, the snowboots we were wearing kept our feet dry.
In the shallows, at the edge of the river, we came across the only shed we found. It wasn't really a shed, as it was attached to a moose skull. I found a good sized log and kept smashing at the ice - which was somewhat rotten, until I got it free, and stowed the skull in my pack - the antler hanging out and catching on everything.
We didn't go much further. The weather had warmed during the day to the point where the snow started giving way under our snowshoes. Climbing out of the valley on this side of the river turned out to be real work, and some times the snow gave to the point where I was going down three or four feet breaking trail. I started to wonder if our back trail was going to present the same kind of problem. If so, it would take us until after dark to get out.
We gave up forward progress and backtracked out. My fears were only realized in a couple of open areas. Under the trees, our old trail held fine, and we were soon out to the car and driving back to the lodge. A few minutes later, we were in the hot tub with a roaring fire in the fireplace. There is something to be said for Wing's way of "camping."
PG
