Jerry the Connecter

Have you read Malcolm Gladwell?  One of his books, The Tipping Point is about …well, a lot of things, but one of the themes is  “epidemics” and how they spread.   Here at Tuscarora, we’re in the business of promoting canoe trip epidemics, right?  So this is why it became part of my job to read this book.  I liked it so much I’ve read all of his books so far.  I like the way he writes, sort of causally researchy…brings up lots of interesting topics. So, we’re still figuring out how to share the North Woods with everyone we can—introducing new people,  setting up the seasoned people –talking about trips and campsites, recommending canoes, listening to stories.
At one point in the book, he talks about CONNECTERS.  Connecters are people with a gift for bringing folks together.  They seem to know people across borders of society—and make friends easily, and then connect them all.   They are like the network hub.  Most of us know somebody like that—particularly likable, or somehow gifted with a combination of curiosity and energy and general appeal.

Last week, we got an email from our Nashville friend, Jerry Vandiver.  I thought…aha!  Here’s a connecter in the flesh, and we are really lucky to be in his web. Jerry uses his music and love of the North Woods to bring lots of folks together.  Definitely his network spans the country.
This summer….he’ll be back to do one of his Dining Hall Concerts, and we’re pretty excited about that—we’re even going to set a date soon!  We plan to combine it with our Unnofficial Tuscarora Triathlon….which is all good for me, because it might even mean that I schedule it ahead of time…so …..people might even be able to PLAN on these events, if you can imagine.
Anyhow, I’m recommending that you connect with Jerry, however you can.  Part of his charm is that he’ll remember you, and make you feel special.  You can catch him at Canoecopia in March, or at Tuscarora in July!

The Snow Makers

Chip, Kari, Kristoffer, and Meaghan of the Anderson family have started a tradition of bringing the snow with them.  They visited Tuscarora a few years ago for Thanksgiving.  That year they raced a blizzard up here from cities, arriving just in time for the snow to start.  This year they made a last minute decision to come back up for Thanksgiving.  On Wednesday they arrived in time to see fall.  The met a nice buck on the road (not saying where!), hiked on the crunchy, bare ground, and listened to waves lapping on the shore of Round Lake.  After their turkey was devoured, the snow started.  The next morning they were out snow shoeing in  a picture perfect winter day.  Heavy snow lay on all the trees and from their perch in cabin 5, they watched the ice form on Round. If the snow is pokey next year, we will give this nice family a call and have them bring up some snow!

photos courtesy of Kari Kennedy

Reflections in November

Denali and I went for a walk yesterday.  It seemed like typical November.  Bleak, stark, bare. Cold.    Still. Bland. Boring.

The thing is, Denali wasn’t bored.  All her muscles were on alert, she was listening  to the silence,  tense and aware.  She loves it so much, it’s contagious.

Also, up close-the wilderness-even completely at rest, is the most beautiful place to be- if you ask me.  Very subtle.   And incredibly quiet.  The only sound, the only life I could pick out besides Denali was a lone merganser who wouldn’t stop splashing.
Fishing?  Staying warm?  No kidding,the  entire hour we walked she was swimming and splashing and diving.   It looked miserable to me, but I don’t  actually know if it was.

 

I think the woods set a good example for us.  They are frantically busy sometimes, with the growth, new life, the activity, the fires the storms, the winds.  This weekend it just all stopped.  And I stopped too, long enough to notice the ice forming along the shoreline.

I’ve been reading about math teachers these days– the literature seems to agree that people who don’t reflect on how they teach will default to the way that they were taught.  It doesn’t matter if it worked well for them as students.  If teachers don’t work on becoming reflective practitioners, they’re bound to repeat their own classroom experiences.

How many more things in life are like that? If we don’t take the time to reflect on our decisions, will we simply default to the way things always were?  Is it that way for parenting?   If I don’t reflect on the way I’m spending my time, I default to…what?  You know, maybe November in the woods reminds us not to default our entire life away.  Maybe the woods are practicing a little deliberate sabboth time,  just plain reflective rest.

Then I started trying to be ultra-aware like Denali.  These are the little mosses from our hike. I didn’t even know what they were until a minute ago, when I googled moss trumpets.  Maybe there is such a thing as trumpet moss, maybe other people made that up like I did.  I know that the tiny trumpets aren’t there in the spring.  Well, that is what I think, but it could be that I’m too busy in the spring to notice, or all the lady slippers are  too arrogant, and command any available attention.

The frost heaves are also cool looking in their own subdued way, cultivating the path and displacing the soil like tiny little spiky gardeners.

As I sat on BA point  I realized that I was watching the ice form on Round Lake. I suppose it’s like sitting around watching the grass grow, but I was sort of excited about it.  I’m not sure I’ve seen the actual minute of ice-in before, and it was growing in crystals.  Can you see the little finger?  This was not ice at the start of our hike.

For such a dull day, I’ll remember it, that’s for sure.  I don’t know if I’ll change anything, or live my life any differently, but I do appreciate the reminder.  And as much as I like the action and the people of my days, I do soak up the time when I can be still and marvel at the tiny trumpets.  And have a little ice-in thrill.  And consider my own defaults, to become a reflective practitioner of life.

In the 11th month, the northwoods rested.  And it was good.

Secret of September

People definitely have discovered September paddling.  In the olden days–well, it seems to me that the woods were deserted in Septembers back then..am I remembering correctly?

The last three weeks have relatively busy at Tuscarora–and, well, I start to get worried that if I get too loud about it, even the bugs are going to find out.  Right now, it’s a big bug secret.

Do you know Denali enough to read her body language in this photo?  I was sitting on the dock, doing the hard work of holding this floating canoe with my feet while these nice guys loaded it. She was sure we were going canoeing and there was no flipping way she was going to let me in that boat without her…. Then, when they took over, and I said goodbye–happy paddling….her tail drooped and she stood and stared at me.  “When is it OUR turn? this is what she would like to know.  I’m right with her on that question.

This photo (note September 15th), is taken from the US side of Knife Lake.  The Emerald Lake fire stayed in Quetico, but it was big enough to have us worried about people on Ester and Hanson and Cherry area for awhile, until the rains came.  Warm dry Septembers make for happy fires.  Everything is laying low now.  Andy’s begun to shut down water in the non-winterized cabins, and fish surgery and crew cabin. Chilly nights, golden days, but fleeting..

Jerry’s Groupies

I watched an old video of Bruce Springsteen singing Born in the USA the other day, he had so so much energy that all the people watching him were in some sort of shouting trance along with him….and I was thinking….hmmm…I’ve never had that.  Never really been a groupie before.  In fact, when I used to listen to the Stranger Album in Jr High over and over and over again, I didn’t even want to look at Billy Joel’s photo who wasn’t even part of my musical experience.  In fact…his mullet might even ruin some of my favorite songs.

And James Taylor is so smooth, but doesn’t he sort of look like a wide mouth frog when he sings?  I just want to listen to him.  It’s almost as if the existence of the real singers took away my enjoyment of the songs….like a movie that gets the book all wrong.
This July, Jerry Vandiver came back to Tuscarora.  First off, we just really like that guy.   I don’t like mullets or the wide mouth frog look, and Jerry doesn’t have either, but I’m saying if he DID, I wouldn’t even mind, I’d still want to watch him sing.   Our staff and guests were part of the honored ones of his concert BWCAW tour (see link below, if you have the bandwidth for it, ((ahem)).  He sits in the same spot in the dining hall each summer, Andy and I sit on the same table in the back, and I want him to sing my list of favorites, repeat the same concert, and he makes me really happy.   The audience changes a little, he writes new songs, but overall, I get the same exact experience, and that is what I want.
I don’t know if groupies like the person first, and the music second, or the music first and then the person second or if it’s just a big mishmash of admiration, but we’ve got it for Jerry around here, that’s for sure.  I don’t really care if he’s popular or sells a lot of albums, although I want him to.  We can name the songs, I feel like singing along with him….  Yep—can you tell from the photo?  Definitely groupies.