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25 Oct

Da More T’ings Change, Da More Dey Remain Same, Eh?

DAY 148: Friday, October 19, 2012, DEER PARK – The following article appeared in this week’s Newberry News, an excerpt from October 18, 1912 edition of the same publication. The column is called “Travelling Through Time,” and the subhed is “Horde of Cheap Skates.”

Horde of Cheap Skates

“After all, the efforts of the state game warden to compel the settlers of the Upper Peninsula to conserve the deer so that John Doe of Kalamazoo, or Richard Roe of Yuba Dam, armed with kerosene cans, rifles and baled straw, can be assured the securement of two deer during the month of November will be doomed to failure.

WE believe that the deer that browse on the crop of the settler, who resides many miles from a settlement where he can secure fresh meat, belong to the settler, rather than to the horde of cheap skates, than annually infest the Upper Peninsula.

The state game wardens will find it an impossibility to secure a jury that will soak a settler who kills deer for the subsistence of himself and little children. The game law should be changed so that it would be impossible for an invading army, armed with high-power guns, to cross the straits each autumn.

Settlers and their cattle and horses are annually killed by this horde of interlopers, and so long as this is allowed the Upper Peninsula will not come into its own. At the present time it is looked upon by many as a mere game preserve, and where the hardy settler, who is endeavoring to carve out a home and farm from the primeval forest, is considered an interloper by the armed booze fighters.”

Make you smile or laugh? It shouldn’t, because this attitude still prevails in the UP (and Northern Michigan) and could be reworded as, “All that is up here is ours and we will do things our own way and the law and state game wardens be damned.” In 100 years we haven’t come all that far in attitudes among many, especially the wood tick clans. People may howl when I say this, but folks up here truly believe THEY own what’s in the woods, not the people of Michigan, and while they local businessmen now like having the money from downstate, they’d prefer it if the so-called horde referred to in the newspaper article would just stay home and their send the money up. No exaggeration here, sportsfans. It is what it is.

We won’t even go into the rhetorical issues in the article and the underlying anger-igniter: dose vizzies don’t spend enough money, hey? Ergo the “cheapskate” label. On the other hand, I admire this about the Yoop. Locals, newspaper editors included, tell you exactly what they are thinking, no punches pulled, no feelings spared. Too bad some national politicians can’t bring themselves to do this.

And to close the loop.  Detroit, Big Cities, villages, woods and wildernesds, Da Bridge, all of this belongs to all of us. Michigan is who we are, and for mke a matter of choice. Above the Bridge, Below the Bridge, Yooper, Troll, these are all non-distinctions offered in loving fun. Bottom line, ATB and BTB comprise our state, yes, OUR state and we need to stick together in taking good care of OUR state and all of its many and wonderful components,  and in demanding good and effective local and state governments to help us.

And how ‘bout them Tigres! We watched them take the pennant from Red’s Wolf Inn last night. Nothing better than erasing dose pinstripes, eh? Cool. Over.

18 Oct

The Solshine Returneth– Finally!

 DAY 148: Wednesday, October 17, 2012, DEER PARK –  Our rainfall since May 24 is now at 12.8 inches. Some color, despite rain and 40mph winds yesterday, persists. Today was a varied one –both play and work. Got the changes keyed into the HARD GROUND  manuscript for electronic transmittal back to my editor tomorrow morning. Jambe Longue and I went agate hunting around noon and harvested a pretty good take, including several good ones. Most of the rock on the beach was underwater again, there yesterday, not so much today, the winds having shifted from north to south. My first time out in awhile. Jambe Longue gets out most every day, even in the nasty weather. Wolf tracks by Shanny’s trail (our get-in and get-out). Classic size: 4.5 -long by 3.5-inches wide. Don Madorski said he saw a wolf on the beach last year, same area. We’ve seen them east and west of our cabin, and had a howler-caller working Trout Creek last summer. We’ve seen them on the lake, and up past the state park. This time the tracks were about 300 yards north of us. Would love to get a photograph, but that all boils down to serendipity and a camera in hand. Like bears, they rarely linger long. I got a photo when pal Bob Lemieux and I saw a wolf north of Seney back in 1998, but it looks like an ant with a tail, and that time I chased it to get that shot. It leaped over the road in front of us and chugged out into a cutover. We measured the jump by the tracks at right around 18 feet, and that was when it was just trotting along, not running all out. Amazing creatures.

She did laundry (multiple loads) and I used one of my friend Max’s power tools to carve Shanny’s name on his peemail pole. Turned out OK for a non-crafty fellow. Will seal it later. We’re going to plant forget-me-nots around his grave site. They grow in great quantities up here and almost everywhere, though this was a short year for them, which was too bad. Tofu and veggie stir fry for dinner. Brenda is off at a retreat on Mackinac Island and we invited Max to join us, but he has been working like a dog for weeks but he said no thanks. His plan: take a shower and camp in front of the TV – with no interruptions.

Lonnie made reservations for our trip home, and confirmed my deer season reservations and I exchanged notes with officers, and I’m all set. Decided I’ll make stopover in Gaylord on the way up, and cruise west the next morning. I used to make those 12-hour drives in one gulp, but I’ll split it this year and make it easy on myself, especially if the weather is rotten which it often is. Patrols Nov 14-20, long hump home on the 21 in time for Jambe Longue’s family turkey day – this year in Portage rather than Niles area, which will save us and me some driving time. Will blog the DNR experiences after the fact, with photos. My 12 consecutive deer season with officers, mostly up here, but some years down below. I’ll try to jump in with officers down state after Thanksgiving. The opening days and closing days are often quite different in the sort of things that go on in the woods – on both peninsulas. I’m hoping I’ll luck onto another moose sighting during deer season, but you never know.

Would add here that I got a message from my pal
Rachel last night, attaching an article about a Catholic priest up here who is an exorcist, and talks a lot about all the evil he’s seen, though, he points out,  he’s never performed the ritual on a Yooper. I laughed out loud because this sort of falls right into that general spooky unreal subject matter featured in next fall’s KILLING A COLD ONE  (9TH Woods Cop). Every time I write a woods cop novel something happens that seems like a message that I somehow picked the right focus. Odd and funny.

All from here for now. The UP is beautiful in all her moods. Photos from today follow. Over.

 

Shanny’s Peemale Pole, freshly routed and carved and ready for clear sealer.

 

 

The sunglasses are 7 incvhes long. Guess what made the tracik — just below Shanny’s Trail. Made sometime in the moring. Not there when Lonnie visited afternoon before.

 

 

Neclkace of agate and copper made for Lezlee by Jambe Longue

 

 

Splash of determined color at base of Shanny’s Trail

 

1987 copy of British Edition of Taxi Dancer (US ed was in 1985)

 

 

18 Oct

Scrivening-N-Such On Muskallonge Lake

DAY 145: Tuesday, July 16, 2012, DEER PARK – We sense this morning that fall is starting to take itself seriously. Temp was at 28 degrees early (I was up working 0200-0600). Couple of weeks of mid-20-degree nights will firm up the ground and make it receptive to holding snow. Until the ground freezes up, snow won’t stay in much quantity or for long. (I’m not complaining.)

We leave here two weeks tomorrow and have begun the delicate dance of “eating through” (Our friend Ruthie DiSilvestro’s term) –  which means finishing the foods you have in place (not replacing them, except for fresh veggies, etc). We appear to be in pretty good shape in this regard, thanks to Jambe Longue’s astounding planning, organizationa,l and juggling skills.

I can’t remember if I mentioned that while signing in Marquette, pal Don Matson brought in a copy of Taxi Dancer with a cover I’d never seen. It was the Corgi Books edition from the UK, published in 1987, wo years after the book appeared in the U.S. The cover includes pricing for the UK, Australia, and New Zealand. Probably some copies got sold in Canada, too, but the original American edition was distributed both in the US and Canada, and as far away as New Zealand. Bottom line: I now have my own copy, which I bought inexpensively on-line as a used book.

Up early this morning to spec out map details for HARD GROUND. Rest of day typing edits into the manuscript for electronic transmission back to my editor, and we have come to an agreement (basically his plan) for the order in which stories will appear, and which stories will be sold separately as Kindle “Singles.” Point of fact: I have no real idea what this means, much less portends.

In my spare time I’m reading about the collection of leeches or medicinal use harvesters worked in swamps and marshes, would come out with 20-30 leeches stuck to them and as their blood thinned over time (there’s an anticoagulant called hirudin in leeches), the gathers would bleed for up to 10 hours. Eventually the work killed them and those who quit it after a long time were covered with leg scars. Nice image, huh? I’ve also, through serendipity run across a treasure housed of information on mules as pack animals on camping, hunting expeditions, including even a supply list for one person for 30 days, and the list dates to 191l — right in the time period I’m writing in. Still need to talk to someone who professionally wrangles mules and has experience on the trail with them, re feeding, health, first aid, etc. More of a challenge to write in the past than in the near-present, but fun learning new things, some of which are useful now. For example, did you know that a cup of hot water sprinkled with cayenne pepper will better take the chills out of you than tea laced with a dollopy blurp of whiskey or brandy? At this point this information is strictly book-read theoretical, but we will try it out and report back. We still hope to fish, but don’t want to stand in waves going WHOOMP! like mortar rounds when they slap down on the beach. I like the sound of wave-rattled (singing) rocks, I love the boom sounds too, but just don’t want to fish in conditions that produce the water mortars.

We’d rather wade the edges of the river in steep little valleys, where hills and tall hemlocks and white pines block most of the wind and make accuracy in casting take precedence over shotputting a sliding 1-3 oz wt. as far as you can throw the sucker within the limitations of your rod, strength, and coordination. We use 8.5-foot steelhead spinning rods for this, and for chunking spinners further up the river. Best river mouth conditions for spawn seem to require some 1-3 foot waves slopping in from the north.  Glassy conditions don’t bring many fish to the bite. Wading out in waves to cast ain’t easy. I remember God and I late one late September wading in Huron near Cheboygan, using our 9-ft flyrods to pitch big streamers to cruising browns, but standing in 2-3 foot slapper waves that finally drove us out and back down into the swamps and cricks.

Discretion is the better part of valor, yah? BTW: Billy the Bard gave us that saying, as he did many, many more.  45 degrees, south wind and raining as I write this. Definootely not picnic weather.

All to report from here. Back to work. Over.

15 Oct

Local Weather Writing, and Naming Winter Storms

DAY 144: Monday, October 15, DEER PARK –The rain has finally lifted here: 1.6 inches since Friday, boosting us to 12.5 inches since the end of May. Lake and river coming back up. Superior today has north winds, 20 G 30 mph, but waves don’t look that big near shore. Finished going through Editor Keith’s work on HARD GROUND and finished my adjustments. Will type in changes tomorrow and return, well before Oct 25 deadline. After that the manuscript moves to copy editor (technical side) and thence to the fact-checker and I’ll have one more look before it’s declared final and accepted for publication. Will come out in April. Thursday we’re going to Newberry to attend and Eastern Upper Peninsula Advisory Committee meeing, a tool for the DNR to get input from the public on various issues. Always wanted to attend one to observe, but this is first one where the timing will work. Confirmation today from friends fishing the Two Hearted. They are seeing eagles on the river, and we’re not seeing many of them here. My analysis, it appears was right! Heard a houndsman truck go by this morning with singing dogs. Haven’t heard them in the swamp yet, except for during the practice period when they had a bear treed somewhere west of us. Photos follow for your viewing pleasure.

As an aside, have you read that the Weather Channel is going to start naming winter storms. Sort of interesting. And they posted a list of the names, the first eight of which follow and which I find a bit on the goofy side. Athena; Brutus, Caesar, Draco, Euclid, Freyr, Gandolf, Helen.  Photos follow for your viewing pleasure.  Over.

Snow morning.

 

 

Color with Snow

 

 

Thursday Sky

 

 

Hail to the Leaf.

 

 

Through the woods

 

 

Gray Lady making her presence known.

 

 

Shanahan’s Path

 

 

Needs a haircut.

 

 

Goatee

 

 

Don’t point that thing at me.”

 

 

Undecided on color directions?

 

 

“Okay, wait, let me think…”

 

 

Agatized driftwood.

 

 

Beach alien?

 

 

Logjam on the beach. These are BiG logs, which affords some notion of the power of Lake Superior in one of her snits.

 

 

This birch looks like Terry Sawchuk’s face at retirement from the NHL. (No masks, eh?)

 

15 Oct

Sun, Rain, the PRC, and Back in 24 Hours.

 

Unexpected visitor.

DAY 142: Friday, October 13,  DEER PARK – Back from a great signing event at Saturn Booksellers in Gaylord. Owner Jill Miner really knows how to set up and work a signing by promoting it extensively beforehand.  She has a great staff all with a passion for books and reading – like all independent booksellers. We had a fine time visiting fans, and maybe even picked up a few new ones. Thanks, Jill and team.

Had planned to blog last night (is that an official noun yet), but Jambe Longue and I were whupped from our drive down. We jumped off I-75 at Indian River, and headed east, then south to work our way through Cheboygan and Otsego Counties, looping various roads I knew, looking for elk. A fine, bluebird, cool sunny fall day. Weather cooperated, in low 40s,  but not the elk. Still. Got some great photos and after a long bumpy ride up Fisherman’s Trail to Webb road, we headed back to Osmun and south to set up on the elk viewing area near Cornwall Flooding. Had six deer in the field and saw 13 turkeys, but no wapiti. Did see two hunters hoofing into position near the elk feeding field, with their bows, but they walked in at 5:30 when deer were already at the north end of the area and I didn’t see them again. Meanwhile, behind us in small parking lot at least a dozen vehicles showed up. Only two people got out. A woman in one car yelled, “Hey look at all those elk,” as she shot photos of deer. Others played music, one Suburban showed up with bird hunters, complete with whistles and bells and tromped north across the road. With the arrival of every vehicle the deer all looked up trying to determine if there was a threat. Meanwhile, Lonnie and I were down behind cover with a good view and freezing our buts off as the wind wafted over to the east, good for us, but no elk. Around 6: with one of the bird hunter’s dogs locked in the car and howling and barking, We decided it was time to call it quits and headed for the Holiday Inn Expressway with a room bigger than our cabin! Weird. We slept great and woke up to rain, went to the signing, 1130-1330, then joined our friend CO Nick Torsky and son Nicholas (13) for late lunch. Wife Kristy was teaching in T.C., and daughter Anna (12) had basketball practice, so we missed a couple of our favorite ladies. The rain persisted all the way north 200 miles to our cabin, but let up once we got OTB. A lot of traffic for a Saturday, headed north.

I cut north from Epoufette to Rexton and crossed west to Borgstrom Road on the Hiawatha Trail. One way north of Epoufette we found a fresh killed (relatively speaking) porcupine and I got out with my pliers and baggie in the rain and  yanked a bunch of quills. Have been collecting them for years for one of Lonnie’s yet-to-be decided art projects. That opportunity task done, we kept north, gassed up in Newberry where I could check high school football scores in the Marquette paper, and continued up to Deer Park. With all the rain and wind, still lots of leaves up and even on dark day the color is there. Took a while to unload. Lon shopped for some needed stuff while I signed books, so we had gear plus grocks to haul in through the rain. Nice trip, overnight, great sightseeing yesterday, it seemed like we had been gone a week from the cabin. Photos from the trip follow. Over.

 

…and awhile later, a blood sky (poetic license)

 

 

First comes the sun in the trees.

 

 

Someday a tunnel?

 

 

Deer and turkeys sharing “grass.”

 

 

Road called Fisherman’s Trail. Nice ride, the road a bit “lumpy” that day.

 

 

Pigeon River (great photo by Jambe Longue!)

 

 

Lost Lake (a sinkhole formation)

 

 

Elk Viewing Area, PRC

 

 

Classic Joe Road

 

 

South of Vanderbilt, headed for the hotel.

 

11 Oct

Mr. Limpy Allerydyce Speaks (?) on Presidential Politics

Ordinarily I’d try to talk for Limpy, but in this case I’ll let him talk for himself and just write down his drivel:

“Got dese two guys, buy for dat bickest prize, a black guy got lotsa brains iss  already dere, rich guy got truckloads cash, and pretty-boy hair, empty head full of rich boy air, needer one wit no face wit hair. I sin dese pollydicks spoutin’ off dere  mout’s all sorts staypassticks on dose tivvy depates, mock dicksgustions wit reporter dudes, smell like chickenshit, act real rude, da two guys out dere pontiuspiffleating with vigor mortis, Democraps, Publikans, Livertorians, Liverals, Snowshoelists, cuntswervatives, hairyticks and asktheeisses, all porktickling potlicking stripes like eat snork-snork at pubic troff, da two main guys spoutin’ bare-face lies in gymnacafeteria of self-incriminalities, oot dere doin’ dat battleboyle on da tube de boobs, taking stone face salami oats for troot, and these polecount guys dey keep score day by day, wit’ some kind secret bayrockmetry, hey, we all dyin’ out here  by gerbilcide, dose suited rats gnaw are  branes wit greasy words put in mouts by udders, Greedpublikans and Dullocrats make rich-bought howlicanes of bullshit, make it rain down on folkses heads as it run down dere own damn legs. Promise dis, promise dat, say you lyin’: When youses say dat, which ain’t not close to right, ev’t’ing dese jamokes do it for dem sweet seffs, not for me or you, do it in sneakrecy and t’ink only ‘bout damagement. These jamokes walk inta room, up she fill with poofume, youse know, smell you get in DNR privies out to some remoot campground don’t get emptied but mebbe ever’ two year, eh, da twovem yawp like baby beagles, act like hunters, but never had balls go harm’s way like poor boys and drafted lads, all dey want is us see dem like dere fancy ads, jabberwocking on ‘bout Decoration of Independence, knock us all down, dat one pisscent, try give us case of blindsight – youse know, can’t see what obvious and right in front yore eyes, eh, onnacount we got such shitty rememberies ‘bout all dis crap an’ politigal rap, when I t’ink of da real big pitcher, I say da black guy got dat Bennyloaden guy, read fum magazine always take least ten years recover fum konkomyh in crapperhole, no matter what whitehouse dudes try  do.  If I could vote, (can’t as felon) I’d leaf da black guy dere, let da goofy-crinner rich boy go buy somet’ing else won’t fuck up lives so many pipples. Be’in are presentadick ain’t no game Moanhoponly or roll-dice on outfits, dump ones can’t make you nuff money to line youse’s pockets, put five Cattlacks in yore grudge wit damn elevator. ‘merica is country, not company.  Prettybabyboy’s daddy, he was bloody good man, but dis kid, he ain’t nuttin’ like ‘iss ole man. An now dat Heywood jamoke says I got git me gone, git back oot in woods, where I belong. But t’ink of dis: My hull life I see woods as place take where I want, how much I want, just for me and mine. Find a lot of somepin, take a lot. Find jess a little of sompin’, take it ALL.  Not jess me, eh. Dis state to where dose outside moneyguys sent in pipples take our furs, our copper and iron, and our trees, and what dey leaf here or build here? Not shit. Take what want and move on. Allas been dis way, allas will be. So, which one dese two slick suits you t’ink see dat whitehouse as da guy’s perksownal mine, like businessmen and me see dose woods, eh?”

And there you have it. Course, Mister Allerdyce can’t vote but most of the rest of us can. Me, I’m undecided. Got an obviously weak, and suddenly seemingly tongue-tied and incoherent incumbent and an almost entirely clueless and even more incoherent challenger, who believes almost religiously that business is real life. Reminds me of an executive one time who said to me, when we were trying to press accuracy into our corporate statements, “I don’t see what all this concern about writing is. I had business writing in my MBA program.” Uh…okay.  Snow on the ground here this morning. Patchy white and 32 low damn degrees, like how political candidates leave me: Cold. More pix from recent travels follow. Over.

 

Our Beachbum Boy, Hunting at Crisp Point

 

 

New Digs

 

 

No Words Needed. Courtesy of the Sault Animal Hospital. Thanks to all.

 

 

Humpback Shutterbug in Natural Habitat

 

 

Brookies, mebbe?

 

 

Or is it cauliflower.

 

Roadside Popcorn (Reindeer Lichen on CVR 407)

 

Shadow Bridge

Enough snow to track on.

First ground snow, north of Iggy in the swamps.

 

Setting Sun’s High Energy Brush

The eastern sky starting out.

Approaching the bear den.

CR 407, The Golden Road to Oz

High Bridge, CR 407. Weather she don’t look so hot uptodanort’

Snow Falling In Newberry (which also has cedars…)

10 Oct

East Into the Maw of Ugly

Coach Ed Jarvie and cement head player. A half-century later the looks haven’t changed!

DAY 139: Wednesday, October 10, SAULT STE MARIE– Seems like we’ve done nothing but drive recently. Huge black sky to the east this morning when we left Deer Park; Rain all the way. Photo follows: We’re in Da Soo to fetch the Shan and bring him home, buy some paper for the printer, mix the mundane with emotional crush, pick up some giganto hot dogs (Black Angus Beef) from Gordon’s. I just read Guy de la Valdene’s The Fragrance of Grass, a memoir of his youth and life in his native France and his life with hunting dogs. Very interesting character I first heard mentioned in some of Jim Harrison’s ramblings. He reminds me in a way of my time in the Flemish Alps of Belgium with my friends Roel and Marie Renard, and their dogs Nop and Tim, both of them fine boys and pals who slept with or near me. Maybe they feared I’d put the five-finger gank of something? The author’s locations bounce nicely all over and eventually shift from Europa to North America. The author now lives in Florida. And he mixes the sublime with the absurd. Out with author Tom McGuane on a bird hunt in the Far West he quotes froma McGuane short story, “A Man in Louisiana,” which gives us this memorable line, “Son, anything that’ll eat shit and fuck it’s own mother is liable to do anything.”

And that’s a fact.

But De la Valdene only delves into the ridiculous on occasion, and closes with this wonderful and sublime thought, as he reads lines from a W.S. Merwyn poem to his dogs. “By the perk of their ears and the looks on their faces, I am convinced they love his poems even as I do, even if they don’t always understand their meanings. Sometimes the sound of the words is enough.”

One who reads to their dogs is in my estimation, a man to be much respected. I used to read to Shan and talk to him and he always looked, if not bathed in comprehension, deep into appreciation and attention.  Indeed, the sounds of the words from those we love are enough. I close with more photos from last weekend’s trip.  The usual Yooperboord coming over: hail, rain, sleet, snow, sun, no traffic. Having gourmet lunch at Country Kitchen. Great folks. Shanny is in the truck. The vet gave us his pawprint and choked us up big-time. Enjoy the photos. Over.

 

Nudder pfew, eh?

 

 

100 yards from the bear’s den, bloobs in early Christmas colors!

 

 

Bear den in da woods, eh!

 

 

Ed & Yvonne Jarvie, married 62 years and she is still the saint of all saints!

 

09 Oct

Rainbows, Flashy Colors and First Snow: The Whole “October Show”

Color Splash Northwest of the PRC

DAY 136:  Sunday, October 7, DEER PARK – We’re back, and quite a two-day road trip it was. Sleeting when we left yesterday morning. Didn’t see a car for 30 miles, then only two moving in Newberry, and only 1 more from Newberry all the way down to US 2. Wonderful, sleety, rainy morning.

Then we hit the Big Mac and one lane was roped off for joggers. I asked the ticket taker who the shufflers were, what the jog was about, and he said, “Beats me.” More sleet going south, and rain. Could see blue both east and west of us, but we were under a north-south black cloud. C’est normal. Stopped for a late breakfast in Kalkaska, then onto Traverse City where I read a couple of short stories, answered a few questions and signed a lot of books – only 10 brave souls in the audience, but a nice time and Event manager made us welcome.

After the reading up to Leelanau County, south of Sutton’s Bay to see my former coach and educator, no long retired. Ed Jarvie and wife Yvonne (married 62 years) live summers in the Leelanau, run their pontoon on Lake Leelanau, which you can see from their hilltop house. Ed coached me in football, basketball, and baseball, taught history and was our principal in my senior year. Great role model and man. We laughed about some of our memories.

From Ed’s we headed north and east to Gaylord to spend the night and chased a spectacular rainbow north of Mancelona. Colors in Leelanau, Emmet, Crawford, Kalkaska, and Otsego Counties was spectacular! We took lots of photos.

This morning we woke up to snow, but not the sticking kind and headed north in intermittent rain and sun, up the west side of the Pigeon River Country, and up to Mackinaw City for lunch at Audie’s. From there across the bridge again, north through St. Ignace and then on gravel roads out Castle Rock Road to intercept M-123 south of Moran. Snow on the ground along Castle Rock Road!!!! Sheesh. Stopped in Trout Lake to see Bob Berhardt (Hi Judy – we missed you in Bob’s 45-degree freezer!) at BJ’s rock shop, and west through Rexton and Garnet, on up to Newberry, where we gassed up and then moseyed north shooting photos of color in our return to Deer Park around 7 p.m. Late dinner, and early-to-bed.  497 miles round-trip since 0500 yesterday. The old Green Streamer is happy to have a rest now. Photos follow from the two days. Enjoy. Next week we’ll be at Saturn Books in Gaylord, 11:30- 1:30 to sign books. We’re going down Friday to spend some time poking around the Pigeon River Country looking for some elk photo opportunities, or maybe we’ll fish some no-kill water open until the end of October. Prolly the elk will take priority because Jambe Longue’s never seen them in the wild and this is a good time to hear and see them, but the beauty of fat October brookies is a great temptation. This next event will be our last until December.

Weather was to be rainy and windy and in the 50s this week, but all this has now been revised, with snow to stick, up to an inch at least two nights, the saving grace being the ground isn’t yert cold enough to hold the white yuck. Still should be good for some coho outings not far from here. We had .3 inches of rain since Saturday, bringing us to 10.6 inches since May 24. Were that snow, we’ had more than 60 inches. Just saying. Over.

My Pal Sunshine.

World Class Otsego County Color

End of the Rainbow (No Kidding~!)

Goldend road west of PRC

Derelict

Color over corn

 

Joggers on the Big Mac?

Emmet Gold

Ammo Gold

Sunrise

04 Oct

Color Tour

Flag girl.
Divided we fall.
Cracking up
Works of Art
Nature’s paint
Westbound
Seat in the woods
Tunnel on CR 416
Color on the knoll
Four-wheeler trail
Ablaze
Les Colour..
Baldie on the Beach
04 Oct

Tree Bear (s)

Yesterday coming home from Grand Marais, a sow and cub crossed in front of us. Cub numero due went up a tree, not ten feet from Jambe Longue’s window. Great photos. UP at its finest now, full color here, salmon in, animals moving, pure splendor. Over.

What?

Hey, just leave me ALONE. (Please?)

Huh, wonder if there’s anything good to eat here?

Mamma tells us climb a tree. I sure hope she waits for me!

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