On the Lee Side

Minus 20 outside.  When you step outside, heat billows out and condenses the second it hits the frigid air.  Thankfully it's 70 in front of the wood stove.

This kind of cold makes you earn your keep. Pumping water, hauling wood: any chore becomes little more intense in this weather.

It's a day when temperatures won't get above zero.  In the morning there is a steeping fog over Lake Superior.  A cold arctic high pressure system pushed south into the upper Midwest last night.  Winds howled and sent wind chills dangerously into the minus 30-40 degree range.  Although a few inches of snow fell when the front moved through, the relentless winds swept it all away and deposited drifts on the lee side of any obstacle.

We finally tracked our first ski up to the meadows this afternoon.  It feels good to leave your door on skis and wind your way through the spruce and birch forest of the Superior Highland.  Gentle rolling terrain greets you as you ascend the hill.   Once on top at the meadow, a fresh wolf kill was marked by dozens of crows and Bald Eagles.  The descent takes less than half the time and is full of great views of Lake Superior as well as the Sawtooth Mountains.  The pleasure doesn't end until you reach your front door where you take off the skis and walk inside to a warm wood stove and cup of tea!

Snow is in the forecast.  Plans for a new pantry and baby room are on the table.  Material for these projects are slowly amassing.  Snow drifts are on the lee side of the cabin.  It's hard to imagine that we are also already on the lee side of winter...

Barely Winter

Winter has barely showed it's face so far this season although we are at the climatological half way point of winter.  The temperatures and snow fall are near record highs and lows, respectfully.  The Beargrease Sled Dog Race, which runs up the length of the North Shore from Duluth to the Gunflint Trail and back, has been canceled due to the lack of snow.

Here we are fortunate enough to have about six inches of snow on the ground.  All thing considered, conditions on the ski and dog trails have been alright.  Ice conditions on the lakes of the Gunflint Trail are safe.  The winter trout season opened this weekend.

On the homestead we have barely burned a cord of wood.  This is only about half of what we were expecting to have burned by this time.  Honestly, I won't complain that we haven't been hit with any true sub zero arctic air masses.  However, according to the forecast one is on the way!

Inside we are putting together a materials list to complete the baby's room and building a bigger pantry to accommodate the utilities for our plumbing project this spring.

The other night deer bedded down within feet of our house and ravaged their way through the taller grasses that protruded through the snow along the driveway.  Huge wolf prints are on the road.

Mushing the team across the linear lakes of the Gunflint Trail

Wolves billow out howls on the hill

Life is kind of strange for the weeks surrounding the shortest day of the year.  Daily chores and recreation become more difficult.  You get used to performing tasks by headlamp.  Your whole body has to adjust to a more dark and relatively sedentary existence.  My mind is lifted when winter solstice comes around and the days start getting longer.

This time of the year one's pursuits tend to follow the moon.  Walks down the hill to the lake are guided by the brilliance of a moon dog around the full moon.  Atmospheric ice crystals are illuminated through rays of reflected lunar light.

Burst of light over the lake after a winter storm

A recent deer kill a little ways into the woods attracted a dozen or so bald eagles and countless other birds and scavengers to the area.  Turns out they found the gut pile of the hunted deer hanging in my neighbor's yard.  Luna, our six year old mutt, found her way over there and ate the face off of the dangling deer.  Brains were slopped on her head by the time she was fully gorged and decided to come home!

A solid base of snow now blankets the North Shore.   Out on the ski trail the tracks are getting better.  But the other night thirty mile an hour wind gusts swept the previous day's snow accumulation off and left subtle dunes on the trails.

View from the home site

Tonight is setting up to be the coldest, windiest and therefore harshest night that we have lived out here.  Outside temperatures are well below zero with wind chills in deadly territory.  Inside, however, the stove is hot and tea water is awaiting us.

Winter storage

Wolves billow out howls on the hill above the well.  It reminds you where you are.  These predators play a vital top tier level of the regional food chain.  First the deer then the wolf.  

The crows are getting drunk on the fermented Mountain Ash Berries.

Storm Squall

Inside the walls of that Courthouse was horror.

Outside a blizzard raged under the dusk skies.  Beyond that the beauty of our homeland still lay poised to heal all who experienced a side of their own race that no body should ever have to endure.

I will not write about what I heard and saw on the first floor of that building.  Rather, I'm trying to deal with those memories and forget the details.  A good night's rest would help too.  Instead, I write about the healing powers that our home place and the community around it can have on someone.

Even while restraining myself with the frustrating inability to help my friends upstairs: all I wanted to do was run.  My flight instinct kicked in.  There has never been a more grounding feeling than simply driving up our road that night.  Even though the wind and snow and darkness persisted outside,inside the walls that I built was home.  I was with my wife, growing baby and dog in front of the wood stove and warm.  I was alive and physically well.

The next day I drove further into the woods.  All around the wintry north woods accepted me for what I was thinking: as horrible of thoughts as they were.  The thoughts unraveled the various emotions I was reliving.  The horrific memories unwound like line off a fishing reel: still coiled with potential.  Besides having to pick myself back up I felt better with every rotation of tire on that lonesome forest road.  Pine trees and frozen streams all around.

I was suddenly surrounded by friends.  The end of the road that day was a dog kennel.  If there is ever a time to pick yourself off the ground and perform, it is while training dogs (except perhaps for parenthood).  The companionship they provided that day led to many miles of exhilarating dog mushing. Once again the world around me helped free my mind.

The sight of Lake Superior at the bottom of the Arrowhead Trail is like standing in the grandest cathedral you have ever stepped foot in.  Whether to you that place is in Rome or Yosemite that sanctuary for me is Superior.  My soul was healing with every storm squall that passed over her dark waves.

I've learned some cruel lessons lately.  But really, I've also been reminded of the grandeur that surrounds me.  And that helps...

Four Below Zero

Four below zero.  Dark Superior waves crash along the berms of yesterday's storms.  Ending the day under the moonlight of the lake.  Face bitter with frost.  A slow, deliberate walk home up the hill.  Inside the wood stove maintains the ambiance necessary for modern comfort.  The stillness of winter outside...

Falling Star Shoots from Orion

A falling star shoots from Orion as the hunter rises in the east.  The days are short.  The temperatures at night have begun to fall below zero. Trees creak in the cold breeze under a waxing moon.  There is a dusting of snow in the air and on the ground: another winter in the North.

Our thoughts have gone to shoveling, firewood, four wheel drive, long underwear, warm insulated boots, anoraks & choppers.  Across the globe, Northerners are passing long nights with food, cards, tea, wool sweaters and music.

Waking at light, we go to work and come home to dark.  I've almost forgotten some of the daily images of the property because I never see them during the daytime hours.  The reality is that we're middle latitude and only a few weeks remain before the winter solstice.  After that, the days only get longer.

I've spotted a number of fox recently.  It seems like their numbers are up.  An extremely rare wolverine was spotted outside of Lutsen.  The largest member of the weasel family, wolverines are tenacious carnivores.  Typically weighing less than 50 lbs they have been documented killing prey many times their size.  With large ranges and low population densities it is very uncommon to spot one of these animals.    

We are living on the land comfortably. In the past few weeks I've been busy doing wood chores, putting plastic on the windows, installing our bed frame, waging a war on mice to keep them out of our truck at night and planning our projects for the upcoming year...

Firewood

I burned a fire in the stove today.  Although there was certainly a slight nip to the North Shore air tonight; it is not cold.  I lit the fire to remind myself that this work is worth it.  The fire is burning to remind myself that my efforts, which have at times beat me to outright physical disrepair, is a commodity that will burn long and keep us warm all winter.

I'm not minimizing the situation.  The nights are getting longer and colder.  Most recent nights we've been honestly burning the stove to keep warm.

It's true: winter is coming.  To northerners this time of the year means but one thing; it's a time of chopping wood.  Doting wool and fleece for the first time since spring is occasion enough to dust off the splitting maul and get to work.  My job this fall is simple: split 3 cords of birch and one cord of poplar.  This should be enough wood to burn in our stove for the winter.

Splitting, however, is the last step in processing firewood.  One can pay to get their wood supply delivered split.  I for one am that that type of person (at least while I'm young) to do it themselves.  To me splitting wood has simply become another chore that I do that takes my mind off of the "normal" life qualms.  It gives me an opportunity to exert energy on something that doesn't think or feel or has the ability to tell me off.  In turn, I'm able to simply beat the snot out of it.  It's great anger management!  Don't get me wrong, I'm not an angry person.  Processing wood is just another activity that helps me direct the rest of my constructive energy towards the things in my life that merit it.

On the physical level, there's an old saying that processing firewood warms you twice.  I agree.  In fact I'd say that it warms you five times: felling, bucking, splitting, stacking, and burning.

First Snow

The ponds along the Gunflint Trail are freezing.  A blanket of snow has covered the Superior North Shore.  The gales of November sweep across Lake Superior.  Waves crash ashore in a thunderous applause along the cobble beaches.  Nightfall comes early.  My eyes are slowly adjusting to the prolonged darkness.

I just finished trimming out the windows.  There's not much better than working with quality pine.  There's also not much that makes a place look finished than cased windows!

One of our newly finished windows.

Luna sitting at her post on the top of the driveway.

First snow cover of the season...

Seven Billion

As of today, seven billion humans inhabit the earth.  That's almost 122 people per each square mile of earth's land mass!  Humans, like the growing number of snow buntings leading us down the early morning country road are growing swiftly in numbers.

This fact takes me back.  It makes me realize how finite of a planet we live on.  It reminds me that everyone, starting in our small community of the shore of Lake Superior, needs to be responsible and sustainable in our consumption and management of earth's resources.

The thought of seven billion people on earth leads me to reflect on the resources that I consume.  After all, my project continues.  I'm clearing and burning balsam fir.  I spend my early evenings racing sunset by splitting birch firewood and hauling water from the well.  There was a beautiful wolf on the Gunflint Trail this afternoon.  Rifle season on deer opens this weekend.  We have meat, fish and berries in the freezer.  I drive to town everyday for work.

In my opinion, every human on this planet has to honestly reflect on how they live.   Everyone needs to do what they can do to live as sustainable as possible.  It's the only way that the burgeoning human population is going to thrive on this finite earth.

7,000,000,000 people and 1 rock: the numbers say it all in this one...