Life Up North

It might seem odd that we consider ourselves not true North, and that to "go Up North" means the shoreline along Lake Superior.  We've made it our anniversary habit to go Up North and breathe the cooler fresh air along the Lake.  It's nearly a 5 hour drive from our home south of the Twin Cities, you can watch the country change from urban to suburbs, from deciduous to mostly pine forests to mostly uninhabited land.  It recharges my soul every year, to sink down and put my hand in the cold cold lake water is like Atlas touching the earth to recharge his strength.  

The first few days were cool, misty, wet with fog; the Lake obscured except near shore were the waves washed over the rocks.  The only birds we saw were gulls greedy for scraps of fish, opportunists following the few fishing boats on the water, and the same large family group of Canada geese that have made this resort their home year after year. The bird with a lame leg and limp was still there this summer, and I was relieved he/she had survived migration.  They are unfortunately so tame by guests who feed them, that any large hand gesture brings them close to investigate. 

We drove all the way to the border near Grand Portage to see what the Grand Rendevouz reenactment had to show us. Historically costumed participants had set up camps, cooking areas, games, and demonstrations of hunting, fishing, and survival in the 1700s.  The Anishanaabe were holding a Pow Wow,  we were lucky to see several women in beautiful dress with tinkle bells sewn onto their clothing.  A woodworker demonstrated a foot pedal powered lathe from which he was turning a simple spoon, and spindles for a chair.  

We hiked every day, to waterfalls along the Superior Hiking Trail, in the State Parks that dot the North Country with rivers and falls that feed the Great Lake.  At Devil's Kettle there is a mystery hole into which half the river disappears, and despite attempts by researchers to discover it's outlet, the water has not given up it's secret.

 The fireweed that grows with abandon along the lake has nearly reached the top of it's bloom spike, summer is said to be at it's end when the flowers reach the top.

The soil is so shallow laying on the basaltic laval flow that makes up the geological foundation of the area, it is a wonder that anything grows.  When the glaciers receded from the area 12,000 years ago the Native Peoples began to settle in this rugged land, living by fishing in the summer months and following game trails in the winter.  When the white traders arrived,  their lives improved by the trade of furs for steel tools and weapons, woolens for clothing and blankets, fish hooks and other items that made daily life easier.  The white man also brought small pox that devastated a population without immunity, killing 2 out of 3 of the First Peoples.

The spontaneous art form of building rock cairns was everywhere along the Shore, so of course we had to add our own temporary sculpture tower.  

Some build seemingly impossible towers by balancing on point, we were content to do a simple stack.

Three days of very thick fog wrapped us in a blanket of mist and quiet, despite that just being along the Lake and hearing the waves splash on the rocks has a deep appeal to the senses and soul.  Maybe it's our age, but just sitting on the tiny deck and watching the water was so satisfying.  The other advantage was being out of cell range most of the time, and with limited internet.  To take a break from constant communication and news updates replenishes a well I hadn't realized had become too shallow.  I reread a favorite paper book, turning the pages and sniffing the paper just for the sheer novelty of putting my iPad aside.  

The geese were the quietest birds we've ever seen and not heard.  On our lake at home they are a rowdy bunch, honking and hissing and just creating a common ruckus most of the day and night.  

These birds made not a peep the entire week - it was quite a mystery. 

 The water in these falls comes rushing down with such force and sound that conversation isn't possible, it plummets from a higher river through various water cut channels into a pool were families splashed and children swam.  It was bracingly cold and very clean.  

To be in an area not ruined by mining and it's not decades of contamination, but centuries of contamination, is a gift.  We need to be more zealous of guarding nature, and much more cautious in our use of the land.  I am grieved that a Canadian firm has gained the permits to build a copper/nickle mine in the area near the Boundary Waters for employment that will at most last 20 years, but will leave the land and water permanently contaminated with heavy metals.

The trails were not for the faint of heart, usually involving a lot of scrambling up steep hillsides, tree roots and rocks.  The trail to one falls had a staircase of 180 steps at the end, which meant climbing the 180 steps to leave.  

I was extremely thankful for having brought hiking poles for balance, and for the resting platforms we shared with other out of breath climbers on the trail of stairs.

The evening sky just at gloaming with the setting sun illuminating the clouds with pastels.  The winds must have been swift at the higher altitudes, the lake was smooth and calm but the sky cleared within an hour in time for the meteor shower to begin.

It's impossible to see the true night sky in an urban area, while up North the Milky Way is a brilliant band of white across the arch of sky, each constellation visible to the eye and so easy to find.  

We brought our chairs onto the small scrap of lawn by the Lake and rested our heads back to see the shower, bright flashes that streaked by impossibly fast, almost before the brain can process what the eye has seen.

Can you believe these two have been together for 41 years?! 

We had a friend sing Sunrise Sunset at our wedding, since Fiddler on the Roof was so popular then.  I don't think we appreciated the passage of time in the song as much as we do now as we look back on our life together. 

Swiftly fly the years, I don't remember growing older, when did they?  

 The clouds moving out turn the lake from a steely grey to brilliant blue in moments, I even awakened every morning in time to see the sunrise.  The moon was a silver crescent still visible as the sun was ascending.  

Miigwech giibinbwaachiweyin - Thank you for visiting with me