Tuscarora Lodge & Canoe Outfitters

Yesterday it stopped snowing, and the sun came out, it no longer felt like the White Witch had taken over Narnia. It was such a nice day.

So, what started out as a little kicksled ride down the road with Denali—- ended up as a video project fuzzy bandwidth challenge–with quality not even that great to start with.
Oh well……it was especially intended to send Matt Hahn and the gang in Indiana all kinds of good snow ju-ju. Here’s what Minnesota winter does to your familiar Tuscarora places…

It keeps falling. And we keep shoveling and plowing. It seems as though the sky should run out of snow, one of these days. It must be finite.

Thanks to Kari for sharing a photo of her Tuscarora Thanksgiving this year. This was taken at least 12 inches ago. And it just keeps falling……….

Andy said that I’m not allowed to contemplate the meaning of my life when I’m running a fever for the 2^nd day in a row. Then he took the kids out in the heavy snow to do the hockey circuit. I was left wrapped in layers of fleece, under a dog, to die a slow and painful death.

It turned out that I have the kind of strep throat that only shows up on the 24 hour test, so even though we live 47 miles from a pharmacy that is closed on Sundays, it is a lucky thing that the doctor who cultured me in this small town is also a friend who tried to arrange for a nurse in the ER who happens to live up the Gunflint Trail…to get the antibiotics to me.

I’ve been reading a mystery by Nevada Barr about the wolves on Isle Royale. It’s fiction, but the Winter Study is not. Before I moved here, Isle Royale was the only place I’d ever heard a wolf pack howl. I read everything I could find that David Mech wrote when I was in college, and when the MN Zoo was new, I sat in the observation hut to watch them a couple times—but the way they paced there made me sad. I didn’t imagine that he wolf population would rally in such numbers, that someday I would have so much direct contact with them. We saw one yesterday and Shelby said—“Well, he is certainly playful.” He was romping in the new snow just like Denali does. Usually—the adults are much more serious, slinky, and deliberate.

Shelby wrote a speech this week outlining her position on wolves as an endangered species. We have an estimated population of around 3000 wolves in Minnesota— mostly in the north woods. The DNR recently re-petitioned the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to have the wolves removed from the endangered species list, and the federal agency has until March to make a decision. It has been interesting to listen to her tangle with her own mind as she studies the complexities and public opinions that accompany species management issues.

By afternoon, the snow stopped, and since I hurt all over anyway, I took my fevered self outside for a walk. Actually it was a shuffle, a little bit delirious, but very pleasant too. Denali and I saw no wolves. Not cold, very still, and unbelievably quiet. I tried to take pictures, to capture how beautiful it was, but I found I wanted my photos to capture the stillness, the pure silence–and I couldn’t do that.

You can see that the lake is frozen in our bay, and we got enough snow to slush up the shore ice. Somehow we’ll figure a broomball rink, but it won’t be easy or early.

The air made me feel alive again, and I was grateful to be out in it, in a slow motion kind of way.

The hush of the woods was like walking through a prayer. I had been listening to Rabbi Jonathon Sacks. (I don’t believe it was just the fever!) I was in the deep snow, quiet gray standing in the presence of a deeper form of knowing–the Being at the heart of Being. The calm, the beauty of the world reminded me–although I was experiencing complete solitude, I was not alone in the universe. I will never be alone. Whoa. I will never be alone.

After awhile, Denali hadn’t nearly had her fill of bounding, but I spotted the house, and I could see the light above the couch, and it was calling my aching body back to my murder mystery. I am grateful that there are places in this world where complete silence exists. I’m grateful for the spirituality that wild places can inspire. And also I’m very grateful for the couch.

John introduced Valerie to his favorite Boundary Waters places this September. He’s a long-time guest–and, while I don’t believe he was testing their relationship…not a bit….it did remind me that it happens sometimes.

Future in-laws sometimes sponsor a trip….to check out how prospective spouses fit in with the camping family. One guy covertly requested NOT to be in Bunkhouse 1 with his new date…because it held memories of his last girlfriend in Bunkhouse 1, and she hated camping.

Some couples go into the woods all giddy and come out early…obviously ready for their separate ways. We see them coming and going, and have started to recognize the pattern. Sometimes it’s even worth a friendly private wager.

A camping trip can make or break you, that’s for sure. I have a photo moment of the first trip I took with Andy….and we both loved the woods. I don’t know what we were fighting about—we were so young then, but the photo is of me sitting on a log, shooting daggers at the camera, obviously picking out the M&M’s from the gorp (the biggest cardinal sin). The M&M’s only……it’s a surprise that we made it anyway.

Sometimes, we just have to share a private smile when the couples are very terse upon exit and hand over the credit cards separately….they won’t even LOOK at each other anymore.

I should quit being so cynical. There was another married couple, former staff members, who arrived this fall just syrupy giddy, so happy to be together, she was newly pregnant, they met here—it didn’t matter if a monsoon started, they were already in heaven.

Anyway, John sent a copy of a nice essay Valerie wrote for college this fall, and they have allowed me to post it with their photos here. Of course I can’t say anything for sure, but I’d guess Valerie is hooked on the Boundary Waters and John is hooked on Valerie. To witness these sparkly moments is definitely a fun part of this job.

Boundary Waters (an essay by Valerie)

My alarm goes off at 8:30, but I am already awake. I was so worried about my first college class that I had woken up on my own. I can feel the anxiety flowing through my body as I jump out of bed. I am so nervous I am not even hungry for breakfast. I fix my hair, brush my teeth, and get dressed in what seemed like a split second. After getting ready I race to the El stop down the street to board the train to the Loop. Waiting for the El I see people hustling past me each entranced in their own situation too busy to think about the world around them. I hear the roar of the train coming and my heart begins to beat faster. “I hope this is the right train and that it’s going the right way” “What if I can’t find the right building let alone the right classroom” were a couple of thoughts pounding in my head. I barely fit into the train car because there are so many people squished into it. I feel like a sardine smashed into a can that has no more room. Unfamiliar faces are everywhere I look and I am intimidated by their confidence. In this overwhelming environment I become even more stressed about my class, about getting lost, about my professor being horrible. My apprehension skyrockets, and I lose all ability to think logically.

Then it hits me. I close my eyes and regress back to a time of serenity. I am no longer on the frantic El car with my world whizzing by. I find myself in a place so peaceful that nothing would dare to disturb me. The air is so clean I take a long deep breath to rid my lungs of the exhaust and cigarette smoke from the city. My mind is calmed by the soft sound of the water. The gentle stroke of the wind loosens my nerves, and the taste of untainted air relaxes my racing heart. I am sitting on a rock right off our private island that we worked so hard to reach earlier that day. Our island was perfect; It had magnificent pine trees flourishing all over, and a charming spot to share our meals, and a swimming area that would have made an otter jump for joy. I have caught the sun just as it sets down behind the trees.The magnificent colors of orange, purple, pink, and blue blend together to make a sunset that is worthy for an artist’s painting. The water is so calm the only ripples are made from the mosquitoes skimming the surface for food. The warm pleasant temperature invites me to stay outside even longer and witness the beauty before me. The crickets begin singing their song of serenity. Every part of me is in complete harmony, relaxed, calm, and at ease. I forget about the craziness of the real world. Even in the craziest of times in my life, I can find peace by remembering that moment in the Boundary Waters; that moment of tranquility.

“The next stop will be Jackson”. I’m back on the El and ready to take on my first college class. I am collected and have faith that I will find my class with ease. The fear of my professor being awful has disappeared, and I am actually excited to learn. I no longer see strangers around me but other friendly faces ready to start their day. While the train is still going at full speed, I am no longer intimidated and can see the remarkable buildings as we pass them. I realize that all other freshman were feeling the same anxiety that I was, and I was thankful that I had a place to visit to calm my nerves. After my memory from the boundary waters I am relaxed and confident that I can succeed in whatever that day throws at me.

November isn’t generally my favorite, but so far, it’s