Vacation, Days 5 and 6: Chik-Wauk and Custard

Thursday, August 15

We had a leisurely morning beginning with blueberry pancakes, peaches, and bacon. After breakfast, we went down and fished off the dock. We didn’t get anything, which was okay. It was a pleasant day to sit in the sun. Jane was watching little fish nibble at her twister tail in the water just off the dock when a large snapping turtle came into view.

“Pull your hook up quick!” I said while reeling in my own line. There are few things as horrifying as hooking a turtle. I’ve done it only once, but that was more than enough. That was a mild-mannered painted turtle that was half the size of this one. And snappers are mean.

I wanted to take a picture, but by the time I had my camera out, the turtle had disappeared under the dock. I looked under there as best I could without spotting it. I concluded that it had slipped off to the side when we weren’t looking. We kept the hooks out of the water until we thought it was safe to resume. I spent my time looking at the plant life along the deck. I’d see water lilies and Engelmann’s arrowhead on previous trips. There were two small white flowers that were unfamiliar. One looked like a giant pin, and the other was tube-shaped.

Giant pin flower on the left, tube-shaped flower on right

Both had leaves in basal rosettes at the bottom of the lake with long stems to elevate the flowers above the water. One of them was easily identified as water lobelia.

Water lobelia

The other remains a mystery. Even Nancy didn’t know. It looked like the head of a pin, only larger. Up close it was rather pretty.

Mystery flower

When we went up for lunch, there was a white admiral poking at a mushroom with its proboscis. Was it after water? Food? Minerals? Only the butterfly knows.

White admiral on an old mushroom

In the afternoon, we drove down to the end of the Gunflint Trail. At the Chik-Wauk Museum and Nature Center, we discovered that they had added Watercraft Exhibit Building.

The new Watercraft Exhibit Building

The display showed the progression of boats commonly used since the area opened for tourism. There were some beautiful wooden boats, which I could only assume were pretty heavy to be portaging. I learned that Grumman, the manufacturer of the canoe we had when I was a kid, started making canoes when the conclusion of World War II put an end to the demand for airplanes. Duh! Why had I never recognized the similarity in the rivets?

The inside of the familiar Grumman canoe

Another boat I felt was picture worthy was the Folbot, which broke down into two presumably very heavy packs. The company claimed that it could be put together in 45 minutes, although the person who donated the boat remembered that it was at least two hours.

The Folbot canoe can be disassembled and put in two packs

It looked complicated. The cross pieces of the internal frame attached to the sides with wingnuts. Then somehow one would have to get the canvas stretched taut to keep the water out. I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Inside detail of the wooden supports that attached to the sides with wing nuts

We took a drive through the Trail’s End campground. It always brings back memories for me. We were surprised that the campground was nearly full. It made us happy that so many people are still camping, including several youth groups, but it did prevent me from hopping out at Campsite 19 to look at the rapids.

We had dinner at the Red Paddle Bistro, as is our custom. They don’t have a Buddy Burger (one burger cut in half with two side orders) on the menu any more, but Lucas, our server and bartender, said that he could “make that happen.” No one needs to eat a half-pound burger. We ordered the Lodge burger with mushrooms and aioli. We got a burger with cheese, onions, and pickle. The bill said “Gunflint burger.” It was still a good burger, and we had it mostly eaten before we realized we hadn’t gotten what we ordered. Even though it was late in the season, Lucas seemed like he was new on the job.

We took a break from Marble Chase to go down to the dock at sunset. The sky was too cloudy to see the sun or for the sun to make the clouds pretty. The lake was so calm and peaceful that we weren’t disappointed.

We heard the loons laughing before we went to bed.

Friday, August 16

The morning was still and cloudy. We had the last of the eggs for breakfast. We were in the clean-out-the-refrigerator mode, which meant that meals no longer followed a cohesive theme.

Breakfast--scrambled eggs with ham, peppers, onion, and cheese curds; bacon, and English muffins

We started organizing our things to get packed for the trip home. We went up to the office to pay our bill. A drizzle turned into full-fledged rain as it was getting to be lunch time.

We went to town in the afternoon for our last stop at Sydney’s for custard. We drove out of the rain on our way. There was a new store called Yellow Bird Art Gallery. It featured a number of local artists and seemed reasonably priced. Still, I held back because I already have too much stuff.

We stopped in several other stores and bought nothing. We had our custard and went back to the cabin.

I made fajitas with the remainder of the chicken, peppers, and onion. We topped them with the last of the pico de gallo. We also finished the green beans and drank the rest of the wine. We had to eat inside because it was too wet on the deck.

We loaded as much as we could into the car so we could get on the road faster in the morning. The end of vacation is always sad, but it was nice not to have the stress of thinking about going back to work after I got home.

The sky cleared during the night. On Saturday morning, the lake mirrored not only the shore but also the nearly full moon. Goodbye, Cabin 1! Until next time….

Last view of the lake with the reflection of the moon (right of the dock)

Vacation, Day 4: Hanging around the cabin

Wednesday, August 14

For breakfast, I slowly cooked scrambled eggs into two more or less round patties and melted cheese on top while heating ham on the side. I assembled everything into two breakfast sandwiches on toasted English muffins. We both enjoyed them very much.

Breakfast sandwiches

The morning was calm and cool. We planned to just hang around the cabin for the day. Enough with riding in the car. The water lilies were blooming near the dock.

Water lilies blooming by the dock

I had not noticed before that the water lily flowers were spring-loaded. I suppose that is so they can adjust to water levels.

The stem of the water lily flower looks like it is spring-loaded

We took the boat out to fish. Jane and I each caught a bass that unhooked itself before we had to put on the fishing glove. Jane landed a small bluegill. We rowed all the way around the bay and back to the cabin without catching anything, although we did get nibbles. Just as well. We are not serious fisherpersons, and it was a lovely day to be on the lake.

We spent the afternoon on the deck, reading and listening to the birds. We had to get out sweatshirts to be comfortable in the shade of the birch trees. A highlight was when a hummingbird came to forage in the flowerboxes along the deck rail. It was close enough that I could have touched it. So cool.

An adult loon with two juveniles came into the bay. They never got very close to us, which explains the crappy pictures. One juvenile was diving and seemingly foraging for itself, while the other was still being fed by the adult. They looked to be the same size. Perhaps one was just a tiny bit younger or simply needy. 

An adult loon feeding a juvenile a fish

There was not much of difference in size between the offspring and the parent, but the coloration was quite different. The juveniles were gray where the adult was black.

The juveniles were gray and about as big as the adult

A juvenile stretches its wings, flanked by the adult, right and sibling, left

The day passed pleasantly. I made chicken soup for dinner to take off the chill.

Chicken soup

I baked cream scones to have with peaches for dessert. Cream scones make the best shortcake ever.

Cream scone with peaches

All in all, it was a perfect vacation day.

Vacation, Day 3: Driving the backroads

It was another gorgeous day, calm and cool.

Another beautiful morning

I noticed that the arbor vitae was covered with small cones.

Cones on the arbor vitae

I had never seen arbor vitae seeds before. I peeled back the outer scales to reveal two seeds side by side with wings surrounding them. These did not seem mature. I don’t know if they would get bigger or not.

Twin seeds in the arbor vitae cone

There had been a little rain in the night. I suggested that we take our annual drive on the dirt roads to Ester Lake because the rain would have settled the dust. Jane thought that was a fine idea because we had her car. Here is a picture of the open (dirt) road.

Our trek through the National Forest

We stopped to admire the Joe Pyeweed growing near a beaver dam.

Joe Pyeweed (pinkish flower on the right) next to a beaver dam (pile of sticks on the right). The beaver lodge is in the back

The pearly everlasting was in bloom everywhere, as was common tansy.

Pearly everlasting (I've always loved that name)

Common tansy, a cheerful if invasive flower.

At the Otter Lake portage trail, I easily collected a handful of wild blueberries.

Blueberries from Otter Lake

We did not see a moose on the road to Ester Lake this time, but the roadside was lined with more flowers than we had ever seen before.

A roadside floral display

We didn’t see much in the way of wildlife, just the usual robins, blue jays, crows and squirrels.

We visited another site from the Passport to the Past, the Hovland Dock. There was a sign warning of peril—unstable cement, big waves, etc. I did not venture out. I don’t want to be the one on the news who ends up dead because she doesn’t heed the warning. The Passport said that Hovland was settled in 1888 by two Norwegians, Ole Brunes and Nels Elaisen, and the location was known as Chicago until a year later, when they renamed it Hovland after Ole’s birthplace in Norway. Chicago, Illinois comes from a Native American word for ramps (sometimes translated as “stinking onion”). I wondered if ramps had grown here near the Flute Reed River also. The dock brought supplies to Hovland until the highway was completed in 1928.

The Hovland dock. Don't go out there.

Next stop: Chippewa City, a bustling town of 100 families of Ojibwe until 1915. From the 1700s to the 1900’s, Jesuit priests tried to save the souls of this and other communities. The only thing that remains is a church, built in 1895. The Jesuits were replaced by Benedictines in 1905. No idea what that means from a theological standpoint. Over time, the community dwindled, I’m guessing due to relocation of the Ojibwe to a reservation up by Grand Portage. A new church in Grand Marais forced the Chippewa City church to close. From 1936 to 1970, the church fell into disrepair. It was then restored as an example of early missions

St. Francis Xavier Church, the only remaining remnant of Chippewa City

Back at the cabin, we filled our vacation glasses with ice and grapefruit margaritas. We got out Jane’s new tripod to take a better picture of us using the 10-second delay on my camera. The tripod was a vast improvement over trying to balance the camera on the deck railing.

Happy hour!

While we had happy hour, a constant rain of birch seeds fell on us. It is amazing that such a large plant can come from such a miniscule seed. The seeds are beautiful. Their wings make a perfect little fleur-de-lis.

A birch seed with wings. For scale, that is the weave of denim on my jeans.

I saw something shiny and brown on the ground under the deck. It was about 2" long. I could not figure out what it was until I got quite close. It was a slug! Not as big as in the Pacific Northwest, but twice the size that I usually see in Illinois.

A relatively monstrous slug

I made steak fajitas with the leftover steak, pablano, bell peppers, and onion from the garden, and a salsa of peppers, tomato, and onion. Jane bought little “street taco” tortillas. It was a lovely meal on the deck, if a little drippy.

Steak fajitas

Jane went down to the dock to fish. I sat with her and worked on my journal. She caught a bass. I took a picture because, based on the fish we’d caught so far, I thought it might be the biggest one we would see. Turns out I was right about that.

Jane's bass--the largest fish either of us caught

Vacation, Day 2: Maple Hill

Monday morning was calm; there was not a ripple on the lake.

Absolute calm Monday morning

We had blueberry pancakes with peaches and bacon for breakfast.

Breakfast

I’d seen fireweed blooming on previous visits. It belongs in the mustard family, and I assumed from the long, slender pods that its seeds were small, round, and mustard like.

Fireweed blossoms and long seed pods

I was wrong. The seeds are tiny and wind dispersed by long plumes. Interestingly, this plant growing in front of our cabin was the only one that had matured to the point of dispersal, and we saw hundreds of fireweed plants along the roadsides.

Pods splitting to release wind-dispersed seeds

Close up of tiny seeds and large plumes

When we were at the Visitors Center in Grand Marais Saturday, we picked up a passport-sized brochure called Passport to the Past. It featured a number of historical locations that we had never visited. We started with a visit to Maple Hill, which was founded in 1891 by John and Peter Rindahl, immigrant brothers from Scandinavia. Maple Hill? In the land of birch and conifers?

The first surprise was that there were maples on Maple Hill. In fact, once I started looking for them, I saw maples everywhere.

We found the Maple Hill church, which seemed to still be in use. A Weber grill was outside the front door. It’s behind the tree in this picture.

Maple Hill church--the tree on the left hides a Weber grill next to the sidewalk

I walked around the adjacent cemetery, looking at gravestones. The Passport to the Past said that “memories of the early years were of hardship and near starvation.” If the soil in the cemetery was typical of the area, farming would have been a difficult pursuit. I wondered if they dug graves with a jackhammer. This grave, from last February, shows the rocky soil with not a single plant growing. A grave from 2017 was only sparsely covered with grass.

A grave from February has no plant growth on it

Whenever I walk through a cemetery, I wonder what stories are lying underground. M. Jane Burley had an interesting life. Her headstone suggests that she was a scientist, artist, and musician. “A chosen life well lived” for 96 years. An inspiration to us all.

This is the headstone of John Rindahl. I had more questions about this one than answers. If 1891 is in fact a birth date, he may have been the son of John Rindahl, founder of Maple Hill, which would mean that John Rindahl had a wife either when he came or soon after he arrived. Or maybe it is the grave of the original founder, and the first date is when he came to Maple Hill. If so, he was either crazy or just unfortunate to start a life in a new land at the beginning of winter.

Grave of John Rindahl

There are the markers of sadness and tragedy as well. The first graves in the Anderson plot were not the expected Grandmother and Grandfather, but Grandmother and Grandson. Grandmother may have been one of the first residents.

The graves of Grandmother and Grandson

Here’s another one for an infant who died in 1918, the same year as the Spanish flu pandemic.

Possible infant mortality from Spanish flu

I liked the loons on this stone.

Loons on the headstone

Did this young man die in combat? I’ll never know. “Forever smiling in our hearts.” SpongeBob in the Pattymobile is on the right, an unopened can of Bud Light is on the left. There’s a story there.

Veteran's grave decorated with Bud Light and SpongeBob

Whether this tree was planted or began as a seed, this little spruce growing in the stump of a dead tree is a reminder of the cycle of life.

Life from death--a spruce grows in the stump of a dead tree

After these reminders of our own mortality, we went to Sydney’s in Grand Marais for custard before returning to the cabin. As the saying goes---life is short; eat dessert first.

We had lemon chicken with garlic, green beans from my garden, and fried leftover baked potatoes for supper.

Lemon-garlic chicken, green beans, and fried potatoes

Vacation, Day 1: The Rendezvous

Jane and I took our annual trip to the Boundary Waters later this year. All the weeks in July were booked when we started looking for dates in January. But I was retiring—why not go in August?

We got to Grand Marais in the afternoon of Saturday, August 10. While we were in the Visitors Center, we learned that a powwow and rendezvous was going on that weekend in Grand Portage. The woman at the desk was describing the Native American dances to other visitors as something not to be missed. We picked up the schedule and planned to head up on Sunday.

August is an excellent time to go up north. The biting insect populations were WAY down. The weather was cool, calm, and pleasant. We saw flowers that we had not seen before. For years, I had wondered what this common understory plant was with the very large leaves.

An understory plant with big leaves

When I saw the flower, I guessed it was an aster. When I looked it up yesterday, I found that its name is—drum roll please—large-leafed aster.

The characteristic aster flowers of large-leafed aster

Harebells (not to be confused with hair balls) were blooming as well.

Harebells

I made scrambled eggs with ham, green pepper, onions, and cheese curds for breakfast. We had leftover baked potatoes from our dinner Saturday, which fried up very nicely indeed.

Eggs with stuff and fried potatoes

While Jane washed the dishes, I perused the rendezvous schedule. We had missed most of the good stuff, since the event started on Friday. It was not clear from the schedule when the Native American dances were. The only things going on at the powwow grounds were a mixed softball tournament, a turkey shoot, Grand Entry, bingo, and a raffle drawing. Maybe the grand entry? There was a presentation at the Grand Portage National Monument on “Traditional Fiddling in the Fur Trade Era” that sounded interesting to me. It was at exactly the same time as the Grand Entry.

We found the parking lot, which looked on the map to be a short distance from the powwow grounds. What the map didn’t show is a rocky, washed out path that went more or less straight up. Jane couldn’t manage it, and I didn’t want to. We took the historic portage trail back to the National Monument and rendezvous.

The historic portage trail

For those of you not in the know, the rendezvous was the time that the voyageurs came from all over northern North America with furs that they collected over the winter by trapping and/or trading with Native Americans. The voyageurs met representatives from the fur companies to get paid and pick up trade goods for the next winter. Alcohol was involved.

The sign says the Grand Portage was 8.5 miles long. It bypassed meanders, cascades and waterfalls on the Pigeon River, and was used in the fur trade from 1731 to 1803. To give that some perspective, back in our canoe trip days, our worst, butt-busting portage was 160 rods. That was as far as we ever wanted to carry our canoe and gear. There are 34,720 rods in 8.5 miles. And a man wasn’t a man if he didn’t carry two 90-pound bales of beaver skins. I’ve heard that strangulated hernia was the most common cause of death. We have become so accustomed to planes, trains, and automobiles that it is hard to imagine when walking was the best option.

Me by the sign at the head of the Grand Portage

Here’s a view of part of the rendezvous. The Great Hall is in the background. A peek into the tents suggested that authenticity was left at the tent flap. Air mattresses and sleeping bags were common. I’m not judging. I’d do the same. Actually, I wouldn’t because I can’t see the point of playing dress-up on such a grand scale. But that’s just me. Some people obviously like it.

Part of the rendezvous encampment

Re-enactors

I noticed three kinds of tents. There was a single tent with flat ends, a single tent with a rounded back end, and the double wide.

Single and double-wide tents

There were a number of young adults and children participating in the re-enactment. Fun for the whole family!

Children in period costumes

A fully costumed woman painted on an easel on the porch of the Great Hall while her husband (I presumed) watched.

The porch of the Great Hall

We crossed a bridge over the Pigeon River to get from one side of the encampment to the other. A great blue heron seemed completely unperturbed by all the activity.

Great blue heron on the Pigeon River

I had wondered how the voyageurs learned to make birch bark canoes, and it turns out that they didn’t. The Ojibwe made and sold canoes to the voyageurs. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? The Montreal canoes that were used to transport trade goods and “Company partners” to the rendezvous were 36 feet long and 6 feet wide in the middle. They could hold 4 tons of cargo. The picture on the plaque showed the company partner all dressed up in the business suit of the time, including a top hat. I wonder how realistic that was. The Great Lakes typically have sizeable waves. It would seem that everyone in the canoe would be wet most of the time. The 1500-mile trip from Montreal to Grand Portage took six to eight weeks. That figures out to be 28 to 37 miles a day. It was a frantic rush to get there and back before the weather got bad.  

We walked down to the dock just in time to see a Mackinaw boat come up. The Mackinaw boat didn’t come into play until the 1830’s and 40’s, after the Glory Days of the voyageurs. The boat was pointed on both ends and had sails. The small outboard motor on the side of this replica is not true to the period.

A Mackinaw boat

I noticed that the pants of the boatman were pleated in the back. The extra fabric would make them comfortable for sitting in a boat all day.

Do these pleats make my butt look big?

The fiddling demonstration was good. The young woman was a ranger at the park who had been playing the violin for 20 years, beginning when she was 5. She explained that the music of the rendezvous was a combination of Scottish, French, Ojibwe, and Metis (persons of mixed European and Ojibwe heritage). She talked about the characteristics of each type of music and played examples. To be honest, I couldn’t tell the difference.

The fiddling demonstration

We headed back to the cabin after that. Jane fired up the grill for steaks, foil pack new potatoes, and zucchini.

Supper

And that was the end of our first day of vacation.