Minnesota

           

Seriously, I need to write a book. We spent an amount of time the other night talking with a woman who saw Bigfoot. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes she might not have believed it! This woman by the way is somewhere in her 70s, traveling by herself, sleeping in the back of her station wagon and staying at remote campgrounds. What's not to love? Who knew Minnesota was Big Foot country?

The Dam

People ask, "Why are you in Minnesota?" and I think the above paragraph explains all.

Looking busy

Technically we are here at the Sandy Lake Recreation Area as volunteers with the Army Corps of Engineers. Our duties consist of unlocking 2 doors at 8 AM and locking them at 8PM (central time) Also, pick up a report of which campsites are expecting campers and later in the day writing our own report as to who has actually shown up and how many are in the party. Oh yes and what type of camping vehicle they have (example 1 woman in station wagon) I did not say crazy, - you thought it

You may think this is an easy job and of course you're right, after a couple of weeks here we finally have the hang of it. Svend of course goes around finding other things to do like picking up trash or raking the play areas. I look for typos on their signs (found two).   

Now we spend more time actually acting like "hosts" chitchatting with people etc. Svend is quite good at this. If some taciturn person doesn't want to engage, I'm ready to move on. Svend will ask them a ton of (in my opinion) boring questions and before long they're talking about their 

grandchildren, or their Swedish grandmas and off we go. Yesterday we spent a lovely half hour speaking with a man who seemed very quiet only to find out he was a retired director of the fish and wildlife commission and he literally knew everything about not only the local fish and fisheries but that of the whole midwest. I'm not even being sarcastic to say he was quite interesting and very nice.

Minnesotans are crazy for fishing. The opening day for fishing is like a state holiday. Every newscast had heartwarming stories of fishermen, fisherwoman, fiserchildren, bail shops owners, fishing guides and constant mention of the king of all fishes, the beloved Walleye. Which I can only attest to the fact that it tastes good pan fried. After several weeks here, I felt compelled to actually fish. So after a trip to the booming metropolis of MacGregor, MN, I purchased a rod and reel, assorted other fishy things like hooks, sinkers, bobbins, a license, and some squirmy minnows and it was a go. The neighbor gave us advice as to where the good fishing was, but alas, although we can fish, we haven't mastered the art of catching. At least we have what we need for the future. (except the minnows, they have been sacrificed.)

A new experience was to see the

Fish all year

Minnesota version of the perfect trailer - the fish house. Is this something people know about? These abodes have holes in the floor where one can open to fish on the ice! Picture it, "Come on children, close up the holes in the floor, dinner's ready." They can also be used during non ice times as a regular camper. Interesting, different, smart, weird, fun?                           

The history of this area has to do with The mighty Mississippi.

Somewhere in the mid 1800's the Army Corps of Engineers were tasked with making it more navigable by damning up 5 lakes near the headwaters so that steamboats could traverse more consistently and for flood control. Hence there's a cool dam right in the middle of the camp grounds. They don't let Svend control it, but you know he could.

Big Sandy Lake was also migration point for the Ojibwe (Chipawah) tribes and there is a monument commemorating The Tragedy at Big Sandy Lake where many tribe members had traveled to get their annual fall payments which were delayed and minimized. Around 300 members of the tribe died of starvation and illnesses as a result. There are so many stories throughout the US, it's a fascinating pastime to take the time to read the signs and historic markers in these out of the way spots, research further and try to piece together the mosaic of history.

On a slow Monday, we went off to go explore the delightful city of Duluth, a smallish port city of Lake Superior. Their touristy area is called Canal Park and it is a great collection of "things to do" The locally famous Grandma's restaurant is where we lunched al fresco (al heavy sweatshirts) 

 verlooking the old elevator bridge from the early 1900s that is still in use. After that we walked out to the lighthouse at the mouth of the port, over the scary bridge and to the free Army Corps of Engineer Lake Superior Museum, which was quite interesting. Most of us of a certain age know of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald thanks to Gordon Lightfoot. For you younguns, it was a freighter carrying iron ore to Detroit that sank in a terrible storm on Lake Superior. All 29 crew members were lost. The museum also had stuff that Svend would like, things like engines and pumps. Moving on to a fun fact about the Army Corps of Engineers (Have you noticed I'm becoming obsessed with ACOE?) Their first project was at Breeds Hill in dear old Charlestown MA, where they built up fortifications that helped hold back the Bloody British. Ok, so the Bloody British won the battle, but we won the war.

So heading into our last big weekend at Big Sandy we agree that it was well worth the 24 hour drive and hundreds of dollars in gas to get here. The people we have met have consistently been friendly and easy going. The weather has not been overly friendly. The night we arrived we were caught in a severe snowstorm for at least an hour. Let me just say it was not fun dragging the Taj m'Haul through the whiteout on unknown roads. There was another afternoon of wet snow just to make it cozy.. As someone famous said, "The worst winter I've spent was the month of May in Minnesota."

Just in case

I'm thankful for for: the various warm clothing items we packed, the fact that there are no mosquitoes-yet, the peaceful Sandy Lake, the eagles,  swans, orioles, robins and various other critters (NOT the Canadian geese. I still hold a grudge against them from the Jersey days.)

Oh and Big Foot, if we get lucky enough to see him before we leave.

P.S. Look at the water mark on the boat ramp this morning. It's Big Foot, right?

Spooky

On the road again 2019

One thing we discovered during year two of our well-deserved retirement gig is the wonder of southern Florida in winter. Why would anyone in their right mind not be there in January and February? Yes it does have a bit of the "Nobody goes there anymore because its too crowded" syndrome. But it's totally worth it.
There are endless possibilities for the mature consumer in Florida. Buy a house, condo, trailer, RV, motor home, tent, travel trailer. Rent all the afore mentioned, know someone who has any of the afore mentioned and abuse their hospitality, get a hotel, Airbnb,  timeshare - you get the picture. The place is crawling with us northern sun followers.

Camp Runamuck

With this as our home base, we spent the weeks investigating Florida options, looking for a bigger and better RV, visiting friends and family. Fortunately my brother lives in Port Charlotte and he and Nancy were very hospitable to us on many occasions. On our last night be enjoyed our second annual German restaurant dinner along with Ellen. Chuck and Nancy realized too late the basic rule about German restaurants. Get the damn German food! Next year.

The first appointment I had in Florida was a call to Jury Duty. Nineteen years in New Jersey without a summons, but Florida nabbed me after about two weeks as a resident. Of course I was anxious to serve and be a catalyst to "throw some bum in jail" But about an hour into the process my hope of being chosen vanished. Talk about boring nonsense. Fortunately after seven hours of 
repetitive BS, nine poor Floridians were chosen and I happily was not among them. (PS- the guy was guilty. I could tell.)

Another fun thing to do when one is retired is to look at various "Florida options" for living. We went to a few 55 plus places where you buy a house but not the land. This sounds like a foolish idea, but I'm not sure if it is. We particularly liked one that had five swimming pools, a golf course, restaurant, pub and a little village square under the palm trees that was reminiscent of a quaint Mexican village from an old movie. We seriously toyed with this one until we got our senses back. At this point we want to continue traveling so we went out and bought a bigger camper. The added room has made us blissful! We went from one small slide out and one inner door to three slides and three doors! It's heaven, we call it the Taj M'Haul (get it, we haul it behind the truck?)

An astute follower of our blog will note that we keep running into 

the Deleviches, Elsie and Walt. Sometimes it's in Jersey, sometimes Pennsylvania, then there's the Chesapeake Bay, Chicago, Wisconsin, Sweden now we find them in Florida. First I ditched Svend and went to visit them and the wonderful Bethann and equally wonderful Phil Dunn in Del Ray Beach. I have to say it, I love the east coast beaches in Florida. It's the Atlantic Ocean, I'm very fond or it. It's not that I dislike the Gulf of Mexico or another large body of water, I just prefer the lovely Atlantic. However I realize we need to explore more of the west coast beaches and we will. Perhaps I'll change my mind.

Elsie and Walt came over to Fort Myers and we spent a rainy afternoon at the Edison Ford museum and homes. I know all you Nicolai Tesla aficionados love to put down Thomas Edison, but come on, he was amazing! Let's see - my accomplishments vs. 
Edison's accomplishments. Hmmm, well did he have a blog? I suppose he was too busy inventing a gazzion things. Go to his museums America, it's time well spent.

So we had to leave Florida to get back to Boston so I could go to Ireland with my family (scary blog to come someday) On the way out we camped at the Ocala National Forest at a place called Salt Springs. Should have been called heaven with it's amazing cool spring natural pool, tons of birds, large flat full hook up sites. We will be back!

Internetitis

No matter how often we older folks rail against the Internet and the fact that the entire world is on a phone, you have to love the internet! What time is it, what's the forecast for the next few days in Rome, take my picture, how far to Sienna, find the car, what to do in Venice when it rains, let's call the kids, listen to music, check Facebook, check out what the Great Schism was all about while driving. I COULD go on (you might say I already have) Here are some of my favorite "phone memories"

• Nuns taking selfies in St. Peter's Square

• A Shepherd, literally with a staff in one hand, a flock of sheep behind him and a cell phone in the other hand (checking Google maps for "pastures near me"?)

• Beggars with cell phones (call me old fashioned for even mentioning that one, of course they should have cell phones)

Of course when you depend on your cell phones (as we do) you get overly dependent on it and get the CT's (cell phone tremors) when for some reason you become disconnected. But you know there are still signs on roads or you could look at the art work involved in a statue instead of using it as a prop for you Facebook post. In Florence you would have thought the view of the city and sunset was manufactures for people to take pictures, nit to actually appreciate (oops- need to erase our pictures of Florence and the sunset from my posts)

As campers we are very appreciative of the Internet. In fact, I think we need to find a place to get haircuts. That's my last word on the subject.

Svend's thoughts

Hi,
8/20/2018
Starting the preparation for my fathers 90 year birthday. Reflecting on his time.
He is part of the generation that went from walking to flying. From getting the news over a cup of coffey to instant news on the computer.
3 generations and his brothe on the picture.

Some Notes on the Famous Brothers Hansen 

Everyone who lived through WW2 has a story to tell. Of course those who did the fighting on both sides have the most dramatic stories, but anyone who lived during that time has their own special experience that will always be with them. We’re fortunate to be hanging out with two people who lived through the war and are full of interesting stories. 

Villy and Egon, Svend’s father and uncle are brothers who lived within easy walking distance of the German border. Villy was 12 to 17 during those years and Egon 4 to 9. Both have vivid memories and life on the edge of such drama. 

How did they know their country was invaded? Their mother woke them early one morning to tell them their were German soldiers in the garden. 

The border between southern Denmark and northern Germany has always been flexible to say the least. Both sides of Svend’s family have a Danish/German mixture. 

In the Hansen family, from that day of the German occupation, no one in Denmark saw their German relations for over 5 years except for once when their mother got a special pass to attend her brothers funeral.

There were 2 sets of searchlights in the ares which the boys remember peaking through it the blackout curtains to watch for planes. There was a couple of times that   enemy planes were shot down. We recently visited a memorial in the woods near where Egon now lives, of a British plane that was shot down. Our friend Thomas also told of a memorial for a Canadian fighter pilot that he and his father organized a few years ago. The Canadian Air Force sent a jet to fly over the ceremony. In this small agricultural community there are still strong memories of that terrible time.

The Danes are proud of their resistance movement. Of course it was a David and Goliath situation. Little Denmark could not overtly fight against the Third Reich.  But

there were a few pockets of brave resisters. 

Near the border crossing there is a stone dedicated to Folke Bendotte. He was a Danish Diplomat who organized the evacuation of POWs and other refugees including many Jews from Germany. It was a famous convoy of white buses that drove the length of Denmark to security in Sweden.

Off We Go - Autumn 2018

September , 2018.

Goodbyes and Hellos

We left Boston for our camping spot in Jefferson New Jersey on Saturday morning. Naturally it was hard to leave those that we love, you know the usual suspects Amelia Erik, Sheila, Jennifer, Christine. and all of the other rascally relations.

We really love the quiet, secluded campsite at Marlon Dickinson reserve in Jefferson New Jersey. It’s quiet peaceful in the woods close to everyone we like to see. We enjoyed a lovely Italian dinner with Maureen on Berkshire Valley Road. Actually there were several families from Reverend Brown Schooll that Maureen and I knew. It was a trip down memory lane.

The next day on Sunday we went to Morristown to attend Megan Hoffnagle’s wedding. We planned our trip based on this happy event The bride was gorgeous (and I mean the real gorgeous), the groom handsome and we are lucky to be friends with the Hoffnagle family. They sure know how to throw a wedding bash.. We have been  at two of the three great marriage celebrations of the last few years. Magan and Alex's wedding was a joyous occasion in a beautiful setting at the Park Savoy in Florham Park, New Jersey. It was reminiscent of the amazing Amy-Nick wedding of 2016, featuring the lovely Ms. Amelia Hansen as one of the bridesmaids. (hey, it's my post)

Amazingly the Hoffnagles have not been forced to get 2nd jobs at the Quicky Mart and all three of their wonderful children are now happily married.

We managed to get in an all-call to our various Jersey Peeps and had a most enjoyable dinner at Sheridans, our hangout on the lake in Andover. As usual a wonderful time. The theme this evening was the impending tornado/hurricane/doomsday weather that was approaching. Many phones were turned on to the up to the minute path of this storm.

We decided to trust our luck and rejected the many offers for a bed in a real house and retired to our tin box in the woods.

Donner and Blitzen and falling acorns.

A few years ago When Svend’s uncle Otto was visiting us, he came out with the expletive, “Donner Väder!”

Hey, I said to myself, that means “Thunder weather” What a great expression. It beats the F bomb by a mile. It evokes unruly and maybe scary feelings, yet has a natural earthy quality. So I try to remember to use it when things are not going right., of course never actually doing so. Donner väder!!! But I do like to think of thunder and lightning as Donner and Blitzen.

We had major, donner and blitzen that night with a tornado warning thrown in. Additionally the oak trees were positively pelleting our camper with acorns that sounded like bullets. This is why we camp! We shut the blinds and watched Castaway, the worst Tom Hanks movie ever and ignored the peril we were in. Spoiler alert - we survived.

Interesting spider at the Mahlon Dickenson Park

ONWARD

We left NJ the following day and drove and drove until we thought maybe we were in Idaho, only to find ourselves still in Pennsylvania. Boy, and I thought Connecticut was a long state! (yes I know Texas is almost a thousand miles across - poetic licence here)

We decided to camp in a PA Park, the Black Moshannon State Park, a beautiful area near State College, PA. Of course as soon as we leave the highway for the long, windy, uphill road- the gas light goes on. Gas lights are notorious liars, but there was no hint of a gas station for the 20 plus miles uphill in a rainstorm.. ok, now I’m lying, the weather was beautiful. We get to our picturesque campsite and I foolishly said to Svend, let me go get gas while you set up. So we’re basically in the middle of nowhere, but we have a trusty GPS that lists gas stations..7.3 miles, 7.4, 7.9 etc. Why would I not choose the closest? It turns out because that was the most remote, the one over a mountain, the one with twisty one lane bridges and lots of woods and it’s getting dark. That’s why. Of course I’m blaming Svend for being in this scary situation. What kind of husband listens to his wife when she offers to get gas?

No doubt I tend to exaggerate at times, but it was a pressure filled drive that ultimately lead to me making it back alive with a full tank of gas. From then on I ask Svend "How’s the gas situation?" at least twice a day.

Our next spot was on the shores of Lake Erie in Port Clinton Ohio. We chose a hotel to take advantage of a fairly nice pool and free breakfast. For dinner we found a place right on the Lake and had various deep. fried items including perch. Good, but fried, deep fried.

Having never been in Michigan (how did we miss that?) we had to have lunch the next day over the border in an unremembered town in what can only be described as a dive. Of course the food was great and cheap. Never discount dives. Some choice menu items included frog legs, fried liver, fried gizzards (what exactly is a gizzard, I'm afraid to look it up), various lake fish smelts, catfish - fried of course. We chickened out and got chicken. Deliciously fried.

Stopping by the Chicago Marathon

Those who know us would not immediately associate us with marathons. We’re just not marathon people if you get my drift. But hey, we are retired and when we learned that our friend Walt was going to run 26.2 miles in Chicago. We said, why nor drive to Chicago and watch. When you retire, you can do things like this too. The marathon was on October 5th, and since we going to a wedding practically next door in New Jersey on September 30th the timing was perfect.

The camping road from NJ to the Delevich homestead in Lake Geneva was fun. Two things we learned. Pennsylvania is one hell of a long state. (beats Connecticut by a mile, many miles actually) and Boston is actually not the worst city in the world for traffic on a Friday night, it’s Chicago.

Anyway we made it chez Delevich in time for cocktails. Elsie always seems to know exactly when to announce cocktail hour. It’s a gift she has. We offered not to drink in solidarity with the marathon man, but fortunately we were over -ruled. Walt has mastered the art of Manhattan mixing since we saw him last. I don’t know how he found time with all the training for his big run.
Saturday was the day before the race and we helped  Walt train by going to breakfast at a great place in Lake Geneva to bulk up on carbs.I can only imagine how someone would feel the day before a marathon. I mean someone who is actually running. Svend and I felt fine.


Walt is an interesting guy, very funny, very smart, very crazy for running a marathon after 60 (just barely the whippersnapper) Of course he was nervous, but also philosophical  -“ If I don’t finish, so be it” sort of attitude. We love to joke around and make fun of Walt, but really we were very impressed by his decision to participate in a marathon! Again! You see this was not the first time we watched him run. He ran the New York City Marathon some time ago and we went to a few different spots to cheer him along. The fact that he wanted to do yet another was amazing to us. So here we were a good many years later in a different time of life and in another major city.
Chicago IS that toddling town which we found out the day of the Marathon. Walt was running with his good friend Mariano and Mariano’s daughter, Paula. He smartly stayed downtown the night before at Paula’s apartment so as not to be distracted before the big event.

We, the cheering squad, were up early the next day to take the commuter rail to downtown (via the cute town of Woodstock, IL in which Groundhog Day was filmed.)

Through the miracle of cell phone and GPS we were easily able to connect with Mariano’s wife Pinky who was waiting on the corner with a huge balloon with her daughter Paula’s big smiling head on it. She was easy to pick out of the crowd.

There were other marathoners in their group of friends. Some of them actually all the way from the Philippines. So we were actually a part of a larger group of onlookers. Of ocouse there was an app that many had that could track each of the runners o we knew when to expect our heroes. Life is interesting when you are tracking marathoners in a major US city with friends and new acquaintances. Beats lying on the couch.

Still smiling

The three compadres appeared on cue and seemed happy and still healthy. After a few quick pictures they were off to continue on their 26.2 mile journey. Elsie, Svend and I cut across the city to hang out at the wonderful high rise home of Pinkie and Mariana right near the finish line. Tough life, but we suffered through. Some of the members of the “Filipino mafia” as they called themselves started to appear with their beautiful marathon medals and smiling faces. 


Our hero Walt finally appeared intact and a second world class marathon successfully completed. We knew he had finished a while earlier thanks to the GPS, but surprise, surprise he found himself at the beer tent for awhile. A well deserved reward for an amazing feat.

 .

Honest and Amazing Abe

People ask, "What was the best part of your "Follow the Mississippi River" (sort of) trip. And I immediately say Springfield Illinois. What's in Springfield? The Abraham Lincoln Museum.

 
Now we all know Abe, the tall guy with the stovepipe hat. And yes we all know we have to revise history and say he really wasn't so great after all.. But I challenge you to go the Springfield Illinois and read everything you can about Abe and you will know, -he WAS great.

The other thing you'll realize is that no matter how fractured we feel today, it was NOTHING like what the country went through in the 1860s. Abe had nothing but trouble all day, everyday

From the initial vitriol in the press when he became president, the scary horror of a war among citizens of the same country, writing and then trying to figure out when to drop the

Emancipation Proclamation on the world that was not receptive to it, losing his beloved son, and of course getting assassinated just as the war was finally ending! After following the part of the exhibit of the last train ride and being in the replica of the Capital rotunda with the Battle Hymn of the Republic playing, I was literally crying by the time I left that building. Oh and then I fell flat on the concrete sidewalk with my recently replaced knee (and the rest of my older body parts!)

Of course it was my favorite place!

Don't even get me started on Mary Todd Lincoln, that woman they like to call crazy. who lived in Washington where the other woman

made fun of her not perfectness. The one who lost two children, a husband at her side. The one whose only remaining child had her committed?  It's enough to make anyone crazy (or maybe severely depressed?) Anyway she gets a pass from me for what it's worth.