The wolves

To start with, I love the wolves. Ever since 5th grade when I read the fictional glory stories, then I followed David Mech’s research, just because I was interested. I worried about the wolf population on Isle Royale, I hated that people would fly low in airplanes in Alaska and shoot them up, I even used to visit the MN Zoo to watch them (although the pacing in captivity bothered me more than anything else).
Up here, the howling gives me happy shivers, especially when it echoes over the ice. I’ve liked sharing Round Lake with the covert pack of 6 including 2 pups last season (we listened to them learn to howl). Last winter in the middle of the night one howled so close to that I checked on the kids—my first thought was that one of them was weirdly crying in terrible pain. This summer our guests spotted them more often than ever. Once a lanky pup approached my car and sniffed all the tires.
This fall, the sightings have become even more common. My dad saw one by the showerhouse---and it didn’t startle and run away fast enough. Denali gets her dander up and runs around in circles more often on our road.
Last week, I drove into the dumpster site and snuck up on two of them. I watched quietly, wished for my camera, then I decided that it was time to unload my trash into the dumpster. So I honked. No response. I rolled down my window and yelled. Nothing. They were less than 10 feet away. I opened my door and stamped my foot and growled. Then one of them looked at me long and hard enough to illicit prickles on the back of my neck. I could detect no aggression, no submission in the look, just a stare. I banged the dumpster around. I finally had to unload my trash and they still weren’t fazed by me. I was trying not to look scared, trying to be the Alpha. They just weren’t so charming nosing around the dumpster sight.
A couple of days ago Denali and I were running where they leave scat in the middle of MY road, which is starting to annoy me. Denali turned a corner and hollered. Differently than her raven bark, or her treed squirrel frustrated yelp. So I whistled. As she came around the corner to me, the wolf that was following her bit her on the tail. I thought that was bad form. She turned on the wolf, and my first thought was that I was going to have to kick them apart (still thinking domesticated dog fight, not wild wolf vs. lab) but as I ran forward instinctively waving my arms and yelling “no”, the wolf slunk off to the river. Denali wasn’t really hurt, and I think she was secretly relieved that I wouldn’t let her chase it. A minute later when it crossed the road ahead of us to sneak off into the woods, she wasn’t even serious about the chase. Obviously she’d rather stick with me, Alpha that I had just proven myself to be.
Now I’m trying to figure out how to claim my territory back. I’ve ordered an airhorn—like the boats have. This I figure will cause them some pain (in the ears) at the same time that it might startle them. Several people in town recommend firing a gun to scare them off. First of all, if I carry a gun around I’ll probably shoot myself in the foot. Secondly, I don’t really want to hurt these guys, even if they’re not behaving as respectfully and regally as Amaroq, the hero from Julie of the Wolves. I just want them to find their OWN territory. I think Denali will be OK as long as she sticks by me, but I’m not really willing to put my joyfully bounding dog on a leash either.. She leads a very happy life, and that is worth it. I’ll just have to wait for the airhorn.

Sad Sad News

Ken Peterson, Seagull Lake neighbor, longtime friend and supporter of Wilderness Canoe Base, Alaskan Dr, partner of Rob (Horton) of last year's Chrismas play, really good guy---was hit and killed on the Gunflint Trail on October 31st. He was on his way home from choir practice on that windy night, and stopped to clear a tree out of the road when a truck hit him.

Shoot

Betsy and Saganaga

According to the Cook County Star, Betsy Jane Powell of Saganaga Lake died on October 21st 2007.
I didn't know Betsy personally, only from hearing the stories, then reading her book. We portaged into her abandoned Saganaga Lake resort this September---she operated Green Forest Lodge, a resort on the Canadian side of Sag from 1937 until 2004 when she fell and hurt herself while blueberry picking.
I think I really liked her. Noah told us of avoiding her little bay in his towboat in 2003---he claimed that she sat on the dock with a shotgun to scare off intruders. Not sure if it was true, but it is fitting for my image of a strong eccentric woman growing old in the north woods.
I like to imagine what it was like to survive life in the true wilderness in the 30's and 40's---when she lived off the grid, without Internet access, or highway to Duluth. (Sure, we live at the end of the road, but Bill the UPS man visits us nearly every day.) I like to think of her unconventional get-her-done nature with little regard for society's rules. I like it that she was self reliant and capable, even into old age. She was tough. I think I miss her.

( I understand that I may be romanticizing the same woman who may have turned us back at the portage we took last September---had we dared to brave the shotgun blasts. Still.)

The Last Three Goodbyes

We said goodbye to Noah, Jake, and Anna (they called themselves the A team) the last of our summer staff members. It was a unique honor to eat, live, and work with these young people in this transition time of their lives.
This fall Noah and Jake coached both of our kids in soccer; Anna (covert star athlete) was Shelby’s unofficial cross country running coach during her long Saturday runs. On Saturday evenings we had make-your-own-pizza night---and I thought more than once of our little extended family—how lucky we were to be able to hang with them and hear their perspectives as they figured out what directions their lives were going to take next. I felt a little nostalgic on behalf of their mothers---someday my children will also be at this stage in their lives apart from me— all part of the growing up equation.
Jake became the expert raspberry pie baker this fall---using up his summer surplus. They brought a 6am breakfast farewell pie before the school bus came. Jake tells Daniel that a great part of being an adult is that you can eat pie for breakfast if you want---or you can order it first at a restaurant to make sure that you have room for it. As we button up and shut down the outfitting building, Andy sees ghosts of clients and staff members around every corner. It’s peaceful as we approach our quieter season, but we definitely miss the people that filled our summer and fall.

Quetico Camping Trip

Each spring, Andy and I dream and plan for the Hunter’s Island 10 day trip we’re going to take in September. Maybe some year we’ll pull it off. This year, it was whittled down to 3 nights in the Quetico. But they were splendid.
We went out with our friends Dave and Nancy again.
This year we took a 4 seater Bell Kevlar Canoe. (we called her Bonnie) She was perfect! Bonnie plowed through the Cache Bay rollers with 4 strong paddlers (or at least 3) hardly taking on any water. We stayed on Saganagons and traveled up and down the Falls Chain in an easy day. I don't have the patience to fish much, but these fish are not crafty at all. A half an hour each day yielded great dinners.
It was a cold and drippy week, but even that was perfect. As outfitters, we need every dry day to button up for winter. Wet days are worry-free travel days. We're also on to the warm-when-wet clothing---how to keep dry and comfortable in the void of all comfort. We pack relatively lightly ( 3 out of 4 of us do), but we all have our little luxuries. Extra weight for the fishing net, for the box of wine, for all of the apples, for the cotton pillow case (this is the BEST new trick for me).
Andy loves to look for old cabins and the evidence of history, Nancy’s favorite moments are when we sit in the chairs and look at the water (never long enough), Dave is a great fish cook, and I 'm just delighted not to be in charge of anyone.
We all were game to explore the 1000+ rod portage that we were pretty sure was there…part way through we came upon a boggy pond. It seemed like we might be able to paddle it, but it was full weeds.. We would paddle up to a dead end, Dave would stand up and look through the maze at what appeared to be flowing water, then we’d use our paddles to all move a floating bog island aside and presto---a passage would appear. Just like Harry Potter. I LOVED THAT PART!

We left Tuscarora under the charges of my father, plus Noah, Jake, and Anna. Who knew that my dad missed his calling as a resorter? Noah should already be running his own soccer camp in the woods, Jake kept everyone’s spirits up with his ‘no worries’ attitude, and Anna lingered in the background with all of the answers. My mother took care of our house and kids, tucking them into tightly made beds and leaving them clearly relaxed and well cared for. This competent crew handled the broken foot emergency during a wind storm. Noah cleared the road of downed trees to rescue a group that had bailed out early, Jake gave a portage lesson to a group of arborists who then gave him a chainsaw lesson so that they could cut their way into Bunkhouse 4. Never a dull moment! We couldn’t have left the place in better hands.

We’ve come home to warmer and sunnier days for some beautiful fall canoe trips for guests! Peak color season, still plenty of water soaking into the woods. It doesn’t get any better.

Smokey Bear says MODERATE!

WE REMEMBER IN AUGUST....

District Forest Ranger Dennis Neitzke calmly let the town know that USFS resources were maxed out. In his non-panicky underdramatic way---he reported over the radio that overall conditions in the Superior National Forest ranked in the 99th percentile on a danger scale of 100. (YIKES!)

Since Smokey Bear also said conditions were SEVERE, Jake and other staff members spent some time making sure our fire pump worked, watering trees and crispy grass, just hoping to raise the humidity a little bit.

BUT NO MORE!

We've had some rain this week---an entire Cross River full one night----a few washed out roads, and a happy Jake could kayak down the swelled river---that was just a trickle last weekend. Smokey says MODERATE. The fire ban has been lifted, water levels are way up. Fortunately, our neighborhood is equipped to handle this kind of rain without many problems---other than a few temporarily soggy people in the woods.

Abundance of Wild Flowers--photos by Daniel

Photo from Round Lake Road on May 5th...
Same road.....Daniel took the photos below on his way to the mailbox on August 30th-----the burn cleared the way for a spectacular display of wildflowers.