Swimmin' in Lake Superior

Alex and I have gotten in a delightful routine of swimming at the beach on Lake Superior.  There is an access trail from the old fire hall, about half way down Park Point.  The sand is golden and endless, and the sand dunes to the beach are tufted with beach grass that may have been there for thousands of years.  The walk up and over the dunes is calm and beautiful.  And then the lake.

Lake Superior.  The name says it all.   The view from the beach looks North East, 240 miles to Canada, bounded by gentle hills on either side, opening up from 14 miles wide at the beach.  The beach at the fire hall access is very shallow, and warms up nicely.  Warm being an awesome 65 degrees yesterday.  That is quite the warmup when you realize the average Lake Superior temp is 42 degrees, year round.

We show up, we drop our gear on the barely populated beach, and we hit the water with boogie boards in tow.  Usually there are not waves, but sometimes we get lucky.  Alex is always the first one under water, I generally follow with a holler or two.  Once in, it is quite pleasant.  Alex is an underwater fish, I like to float about, often on both boards.  We cruise out to deeper water, it takes about 20 feet to get to chin deep for the little guy.  Then we are under, and up, across, and down.  He has started climbing on the boards so I can tow him while he balances.  He becomes a shark and chases me.  He says, "Under water, now!" and down we go to sit for a bit.  He is not a deep water swimmer yet, doesn't like being in over his head, but he can swim underwater and down beach for a long ways without touching.  He loves it, and it is a joy to be with him out there.  I have never been in the lake just swimming so much in my life, and it is good.

Swim season is likely ending.  The nights are getting awfully darn cool.  But when a North East wind blows that warmed up water from the 70-80 degree daytime temps, there is still a window of opportunity.  Every time we have swam in last week, I think it is the last.  And then the lake surprises me again.  Kevin has gotten in on quite a few swims as well, and we've all gone together a time or two.  The beach is our recent go-to activity, and is sure is a good one.  Especially last evening, when Alex insisted we go after supper because the web said the lake was 65 degrees.  Warmer than ever!  The air temp was a bit down, but the setting sun made it all worth it.  Especially watching Alex dive under with his little butt in the air, working it hard to get under that clear, clear water.  His technique is far from perfect, but it works, and is oh-so-cute.  The grins when he pops back up are priceless.  Yes, the season may be about over,  but it as been stellar while it lasted.

We are now truly addicted to the Fire Hall beach.  22nd street, to anyone living in the area.  Lake Superior, thank you for a lovely end to a great summer.  When the swim season is finally over and hypothermia water moves in, we will have no regrets for this year. 

Close enough to be considered a picture of "our" trail and beach.  Park Point sunrise, Lake Superior.

The Great Camp Experiment

This is it.  The miracle is happening.  I don't know what kind of conditions and work it will take to make the miracle permanent, but for now I am just riding the miracle wave.

Let me back up.  Nine months ago I was inspired to send Alex to camp this summer.  And not just camp, but Camp.  An ultimate Camp.  Out in the woods, with counselors, kids, and all the traditional activities.  At the time we were attending the Winter Camping Symposium at Camp Miller.  The Symposium is something my husband has been attending and now coordinating for many years.  It has been a venue for die-hard winter campers to get together in the late fall and get pumped for the coming winter season.  It has been held in many locations over the years, and had landed at Camp Miller, a traditional YMCA overnight camp.  The kind with woods, fields, cabins, a dining hall, and a waterfront on a beautiful lake.  It also has canoes, kayaks, a swim platform, and a sailboat or two.  And fire rings for many campfires, big and small.  Plus fun extras like a climbing tower, horses, barn animals, arts and crafts, high and low ropes, archery, and riflery.  And equipment for games, games, games.  It is A Camp.  We were there in the off season,  as a family, and for an alternate purpose, but I got tingly just by walking around the grounds and seeing it all.  I am an old Camp person myself, and Camp to me is the lifeblood of summer and childhood.  I started dreaming about Alex having a real Camp experience.

But I was fully aware of the challenges.  Camp is about adventure, and independence, and friendships.  All of those are very hard for Alex.  How could he ever go to camp if he does not know how to play, and playing with new friends seems impossible?  How can we get him to Camp, if leaving home and routine I painful for him?  How can he go to Camp, if he has always had a parent, or Para, a Buddy, or trained professional to look after him?  Challenging indeed, but once I met the dynamo Camp Director, Bridgit Marushka, I began to think it could be done.

First we brainstormed.  Camp Miller is a traditional overnight Camp, where kids go for a week and stay in cabins with their age group and gender.   Camp is open to kiddos going into second grade all the way through high school.  There is a progression, and by high school they are either Counselors-In-Training or off on wilderness trips.  Since Alex is going into third I figured we would be in the perfect starting age group.  But I knew just dropping him at Camp cold would never work.  That is hard for most kids, and would have lead to paralysis or meltdown for Alex, or both.  Whether or not he could have recovered from the shock and gone on to love camp was not a toss up I was willing to risk.  No, there had to be a way to ease him into it.  Bridgit provided many options.  She promoted the ASD Family Camp, where the whole family gets to participate in activities at their own pace.  It seemed like a great start, but did not end up working with our schedule.  Bridgit said I could come as a parent volunteer for overnight Camp, or even stay in a cabin with Alex at night and he could participate in the daytime.  These seemed like good fallbacks if he was losing it, but the full program at once still seemed like a bit much.  Then I learned about the Mini-Camps and also Day Camp.  The Mini-Camps are Sunday to Wednesday and geared to the younger beginner at Camp.  And the Day Camp sounded like a dream.  Day camp, with all the benefits of the full Camp grounds and activities, but the security of going home at night.  It even turned out to be quite a bit cheaper than the day camp in Duluth.  The only hitch was having to transport him.  An hour.  Each way.  But to me, that seemed like a price to pay that I could manage.  And I began to consider that I might be able to find a friend to go to camp with him, since it is such a beautiful camp and the Day Camp program is actually much less crowded and chaotic that the one in town.  And did I mention it is cheaper?  Like by half.

So a plan began to form.  Find a week for Day Camp, and then follow it up with a Mini-Camp.  Have the option for me to slot into the camp activities if it was just too overwhelming for Alex.  And start working on finding a friend to attend with him, especially for the Day Camp portion which would be an easy sell.  Easy, right?  Well, maybe not, but worth a try.  I knew the friend part might be rough.  Not because Alex has no friends.  He has plenty that would be interested in the experience.  But to find one that would have the same week open, and could get to our house every day at 7am for the one hour ride to camp, well that was a stretch.  And in the back of my mind I wondered if that same friend would want to attend the Mini-Camp too, but that was a bit too much to even hope for.  Especially since we were quite limited on which weeks would work, due to Acting Camp, a two week Swim Intensive, our two week trip out East, and not wanting Day Camp and Mini-Camp to be right on top of each other.  We're busy, and limited, and so is everybody else.  Would there be a chance? This is where part of the miracle resides. 

Fast forward to this week.  Summer itself has been  ticking along just fine.  Many wonderful experiences have been had.  All previous activities counted as successes.  A few ups and downs here and there but an overall great summer with many more ups than down.  I have been feeling calm, and confident.  Relaxed, and excited.  And now, downright ecstatic.  The whole Camp Plan is working out even better than I had dreamed.  Alex's new friend Lucas (and his mom, Jenny) joined the camp plan with smiles and excitement all around.  Jenny is an old camp counselor herself, so she knows all about the magic.  All I had to do was tell her about the opportunity and bam, Lucas was signed up for Day Camp.  Lucas is a wonderful kid, and he and Alex struck up a friendship at school this last year.  Not just an ordinary friendship, but dare I say a best friend?  I don't want to downgrade Alex's other friends, but this is his first solid friendship that they developed themselves.  We did not know his folks, and these boys were not forced in any way to hang out together.  They figured it out themselves, and they are a joy to watch pal around.  Lucas does not care that Alex has limited language usage, flaps his hands when he is excited or nervous, or that he can get worked up over seemingly minor issues.  They play, and laugh, and play some more.  Alex does not bring a lot of social drama with him, he is mostly friendly and kind, and Lucas appreciates this.  And the same can be said of Lucas.  He just wants to play, he not into dominating others, putting anyone down, or friending and un-friending others to see who is king of the hill.  Easy going, smart, verbal, and fun, what a guy.  Super excited about camp, too.  And nervous at times, so he and Alex balance each other out nicely.

With Lucas on board the only other challenge was camp itself.  How would they react?  Would they like it?  What about the other 15 kids at day camp this week?  So many things that could go wrong, and haven't.  The staff is top notch.  The program is perfectly planned.  And the weather has even been cooperative.  I was ready to stay.  I was ready to play background smoother and helper.  I was ready, and I wasn't needed.  Day one, we pulled in, signed in, and met the staff and kids.  Alex looked around, stood next to Lucas, and said, "Pick me up at 4."  I had a quiet meeting aside with the staff and they promised to call if there was any trouble.  I took Jenny on a tour of the camp while the boys trooped off, cell phone in my pocket.  Life under the big pines was beautiful.  After an hour I went home. My phone never rang.

The miracle had begun.  Alex and Lucas had a marvelous first day.  Both were excited and exhausted at the end of the day, driven home by their mom's and wanting to drive together the next day.  I got to drive them in day two, laughing, goofing off, and being a general riot in the back of the car.  Being typical boys.  Typical.  Miracle.  At the end of day two I cornered the day camp director for a specific report on Alex.  How was his behavior?  Did he have trouble spots?  What could I coach him on?  "Nothing" she said.  Nothing to report.  No problems.  "He's just like a typical kid.", "He's totally into all the activities.", "He's chatty with everyone.", "He's one of the best kids we have."   My heart almost stopped.  I think I am still digesting it all.  Rainbow, rainbow, rainbow.  The camp magic is working.

And so, the miracle continues.  Lucas pestered, begged, and gave his folks the big sad eyes, and he is going to overnight camp too.  Both boys have done archery, rock climbing, and tons of swimming.  The bugs and sun have not been too much for the two red headed boys.  They come home exhausted.  Both are earning "bravery points" today for horseback riding.  I am calling them "The Dynamic Duo".  The camp even splits them up from time to time, because they are such close friends.  They are getting to know all the other day campers, and Alex has been leading the playground free time, deciding where the "space ship" or "boat" is going.  I heard a little girl say, "Alex, what are we doing today?"  At the end of the day, I have come close to driving off the road at their antics in the back seat.  I have even gotten them to tell me a few stories about camp.  When the car is empty, it has been very peaceful driving down to camp and back.   I stayed at camp yesterday, all day, to meet with Bridgit about the kids program for this falls Winter Camping Symposium and kick around on my own for a bit.  Today Jenny drove the boys, so I am catching up on the important things.  Like clarifying how this miracle came about, and getting the word out. Rainbow, rainbow, rainbow.

It all came together.  There must be divine providence at work.  I am pleased, and proud.  Pumped, and grateful.  Inspired.  I know that the atmosphere is about perfect.  I know conditions are just right.  But I can't help hoping that the word "typical" is not just a passing phase.

Peace out,
Beth

A Winter Camping Poem

It is 6pm on a Sunday in late October and I am in my jammies.  Half the clothes in the house are smoke stinky, the garage is a disaster, the car is a mess, and everyone else is already sleeping.  It was a camping weekend, and I am in seventh heaven.

Two nights sleeping in a tent, with frost on the ground in the morning and well below freezing after dark.  I almost choked to death on the first night, and was trapped in the tent the second night, needing to pee but with no toilet paper.  At times I was frustrated, annoyed, and even pissed.  I was poorly prepared, with cruddy shoes, one set of clothes, and no matches or flashlight of my own.  But still, I am on a massive endorphin rush.

It could not have been the great conversation with awesome adults on Friday night around a bonfire, because I was busy losing a fight with our stove while watching Alex and the dog.  It could not have been the fantastic live bluegrass band on Saturday night along with the wild party over at the old lodge, because I was too tired to make it.  So I guess it was just the fact that we were camping.  Camping!

But it wasn't any kind of hard core camping to account for the endorphins.  We were camping at a Camp.  There were actually about eight lodges on site, each with stone fireplace and welcoming vibes.  There was no big push to get to camp, just a nice drive in.  There was no battle for firewood, it was all provided, dry and split by the staff.  I didn't even have to think about food, one of the lodges was also the dining hall complete with excellent chow.  Kevin set up the tent, and broke it down too.  So what provided all these marvelous endorphins?  Why, even when I got home, was I so pumped that I cleaned up and even did many extra chores?

Maybe it was me, my hubbie, our kiddo, and even the dog, out and about in the outdoors.  We hiked a bit, canoed a bit, hauled stuff a bit, and Alex even climbed outdoors.  He made it about 16 feet off the ground, twice what he did last time.  We also played some frisbee, visited the goats and the miniature horse on the grounds, and played around on the dock.  The leaves were crunchy, the air was crisp, and my blood was pumping in a pleasant fashion.  Yes, it may have been all that, but then again, it may have been something even more.

We were camping with a purpose.  We were camping at the 13th Annual Winter Camping Symposium.  We were not alone.  We were not randomly "getting out".  We were in the middle of an event.  40 some tents were spread across the fields and into the woods, and every one of them had a chimney sticking out of it.  160 people were pre-registered.  160 very special people.  The Symposium is a gathering of the nutbags of the mid-west that like to go out and camp all winter long.  The colder the better. The snowier the better.  And best of all if you haul it yourself at least five miles into the wilderness on a toboggan.  The tents are white- to blend with the winter landscape, and wood heated- to make it survivable.  Not just survivable, but fun.  Crazy fun.  There is something just a little off about camping next to a wood stove in the middle of winter.  It is not a pursuit for the faint of heart, but it is worthy.

It is an understated crowd that gets into this kind of thing.  Everyone wears wool, the older the better.  The more the outfits are mis-matched, the better.  The longer you've been around, the better.  And the less you have to say for yourself, the better.  Lots of white hairs, and grey beards, and knowledge to pass around.  This years Symposium was the biggest ever, with presenters Thursday through Sunday.  You could join classes on fires and stoves, on sawing and splitting, on knife making and mitten making and winter travel.  There were edible plant walks, tent tours, and good old nature hikes.  Plus having fun with kids at minus 26, and kitting out your gear to run electric if you want to hit the Colorado ski slopes for $20 a night. There was a camp cook off that culminated in the Golden Spatula award, and many door prizes given away, including sweet axes, spiffy saws, and nifty wool hats. 

Alex did really well.  He attended last year with his dad, while I worked at home.  This year we all got to attend.  Kevin left on Thursday to teach classes, help organize, and get us set up too.   It was a rough go on Friday, because Alex and I packed up and headed to camp after the Halloween parade and party at school.  Otherwise known as chaos on a stick.  I did nothing to plan ahead, so just threw together most of what we both needed for clothes and a few snacks.  It is surprising how much energy that can take.  By the time we arrived I was wreaked.  That night, when the stove would not cooperate, Kevin was gone, and Alex was cranky I was sure the trip was a mistake.  I allowed so much smoke to pour out of the stove and into the tent I was worried we might pass out.  Fortunately tents just aren't that air tight, and the next morning I determined to tame that stove.  By Saturday night I had it in hand, and the tent was so cozy I sent Kevin off to the music while I snuggled in with my book and watched my sleeping boy.  He had hiked, and climbed, and canoed like a champ all day.  He settled in easy to camp life, strung up pumpkin lights in the tent, and encouraged me in my quest to tame that stove.  He had no trouble eating in the dining hall, attended a few seminars with minimal complaints, and made friends with the other kids running about.  We hope that next year they will all start where they left off and make a junior nutbag pack.  All they have to do is love the outdoors, want to play with fire, and have a fascination hatchets and tents.  That should not be a tough sell.

So, I had a great weekend.  I got to meet all the folks Kevin has been talking about all these years.  He has been going to the Symposium for over six years now.  Every year it landed on my work weekend, and every year it was a royal pain in the butt to schedule Alex care.  Kevin is always stressed leading up to the Symposium because he sells gear there and presents as well, and then comes home and is a wreak.  I had come to hate it because it meant nothing good to me.  Sure, Kevin had some good stories about folks I'd barely or never met, and he always said I'd love it, but I had my doubts.  Not even doubts really, I just didn't have any experience to tie things to.  All that has changed.  Now I have met them, eaten with them, taken their classes, and toured their tents.  I am getting up on the skills, and falling for the sport.  Next year I plan to present a class, and help make a real kids and family program. I think I may be hooked.  We are planning to winter camp for real on December 10-11-12, and February 4-5-6, and I can barely wait.

My First Winter Camping Poem


As the last of the leaves fall from the trees and the winds begin to blow,
the temps will drop and the flakes will fly,
and I will be ready to go! 

Deer Attack

Holy Smokes, my dog could have died.

There I was, enjoying a beautiful walk along a creek in Duluth, Minnesota, in the heart of a city neighborhood.  My dog, a fluffy border collie, and my friends little mix dog, got scent of a deer.  This happens a lot in Duluth because we are overrun with them, to the point that they are almost vermin.  Ask any gardener, or person who has struck one with a car or bicycle, they are a hazard.  Little did I know what a hazard. 

So, there I was, trying to call my dog off the scent.  I had seen the deers tail, and it was only about 20 feet away through thickish brush.  I hoped I could call Jack off, rather than the deer running forever and having to wait for him to give up and come back.  There were no roads for several blocks, so I figured it was safe enough.  Little did I realize that the deer was psycho.

The little dog came back, but Jack did not.  I put a bell on him for just such a situation, and I could hear that he was quite close.  Next thing I knew, the deer was back.  And Jack was on it's heels.  Then the deer turned towards him, and I figured he would run.  He did, but only a little way and then circled back.  Next thing I know the deer is charging him.  CHARGING, like it wants to kill him.  He scooted off a bit, but circled around again.  At this point I was getting seriously worried and seriously involved.  The little dog had the sense to ditch out on this situation, and was safely in her owners arms.  Not my dog, he was hanging in there for no reason I could figure out.  She was charging, he was dodging, and then he was going back for more.  I was flummoxed.  What you have to realize is that my dog is a total wimp.  He is scared by every dog he meets, as well as puppies, and even bunnies.  He has never attacked anything in his life, beyond a mad dash at a squirrel, and why he picked this moment for glory I will never know. 

So there they are, charging, dodging, and finally faced off only about 15 feet from me.  And my dog is not doing the intelligent thing, as a 200 lb animal with very sharp hooves and a manic look in it's eye stares him down.  He's looking like he is going to run at it again, and she's looking like her dearest ambition is to put a hoof through his skull.  I had already been yelling to him to come, and now I started yelling at her to go.  I ran off the path and into the brush, waving my arms, swearing, and telling the deer to go away.  Okay, I suppose I was screaming at the deer.  And at my dog.  I recall calling him stupid, and telling him to come, once again.  He crouched down, which was good, and she looked at me with that same skull crushing look, which was BAD.  Having never been scared of deer before, I decided not to start now, and raised my arms over my head while making loud, slow progress towards her.  She still did not move and kept giving me that look.  Fortunately for me and the dog he decided to slink a bit closer to me, and while keeping any eye on her I grabbed him, leashed him, and dragged him out of there.  She still did not run, and still kept looking at us with attack mode in her eyes.  We left, she stayed.  And I began to figure out if my dog had gotten hoofed in all the charging and dodging.  I didn't think so because there had been no yelping or whimpering, and he is a big yelper and whimperer.  But still, he has a lot of fur, and she was right on top of him, so a ways further down the trail I stopped to assess him fully.  No injuries.  No getting off the leash either, for a long long time.

So, now it is mental assessment time.  It was a strange situation.  One I have never run across before, and I've met lots of deer.  My guess is there was a fawn hidden around there somewhere, or maybe even two, since she was so pissed and the travel pattern of dogs and deer was very random.  That seems the most likely scenario, the other being that she had some form of deer rabies.  There was no foam at her mouth, and she looked VERY healthy.  I am going to go with option number one.  But who knows, the herd in town has gotten so huge and out-of-control, maybe they've just decided they own the place.  Whatever the answer is, I will probably never know.  But what I do know is that my dog, my sweet, shy, intelligent dog, is not getting off his leash for a very long time.

Kick A** Lake Superior

I just got back from a trip to the Lake.  It is 30 degrees, and blowing at about 40 miles an hour.  A great day to be out!  You know, I sometimes wonder just why I live in Duluth.  Between 20 below zero temperatures, a fair amount of gray, cloudy days, two mud seasons, and bugs in the summer, an outdoor girl can get a little down now and then.  Days like today bring me back to why I love it here.  There are unique opportunities that you just don't find many other places.

The lake has ice ridges right now.  If you read my  Lakeneering post, you know what I am talking about.  Well, today the ridges were getting slammed by waves.  The wind is up, and the waves are high.  In fact they are mountainous.  Mountainous waves crashing onto mountains of ice.  The spray was flying so high that I first spotted it when I was driving on the highway, about six miles from the beach.  An impressive and unusual display, and I had to get closer.  So close, that I allowed my errands to detour me to the Tot Lot beach.  Out the car, and I realized it was going to be a challenge to keep my feet, as well as keep my hat on my head.  I was decked out in wool and down, in many layers, and my happy dog had his substantial fur on.  Oh, for the camera I forgot.

We headed straight out to sea.  Over the ice and sand, all whipped into strange shapes the weeks before.  No even footing whatsoever, and wind so strong I had to lean into it.  Jack, our border collie was in seventh heaven, it was like a Scottish day on crack.  Not only was it blowing sideways with pelting rain bits, but every wave crash sent ice pebbles and spray into the mix.  We got up on the second to last ridge line before ice met icy water, and it was a sight to behold.  The waves were pounding in behind the first ridge line, and every third one would throw both spray and wave itself over the top of that ridge, washing down the back with small rivers of water and ice chunks.  No one  in their right mind would go there.  The second ridge line was just fine, with no danger of hypothermic deluge, just the threat of slipping on sandy ice and banging a knee.  I only did it once in our 45 minutes out.

I made a deal with myself a few weeks ago, that I would work hard to get out at least 30 minutes a day.  Out the door, outside, out in the woods, or wind, or water.  You'd think that wouldn't be so hard, considering I used to spend 10 to 24 hours a day outside.  But life changes, and what once was a given can become a challenge.  Today that challenge was met with a huge smile.  We had fun, Jack and me, getting blown about on the ice ridge line.  We went all the way to the canal, and I had the supreme pleasure of standing on the lake side of the locked canal sidewalk gate... in the lake itself, so not really breaking the rules.  When they close that gate it means the waves are too dangerous for people to be on the canal sidewalk.  It goes without saying that people are not supposed to be IN the lake right next to the sidewalk either, because usually you'd be swimming and in strong danger of bashing your head in on the canal sidewalk wall.  Not today, as it was frozen for another 20 yards out on my side, so I stood next to the sidewalk, on the frozen solid lake.  It was strange to look over the canal walls to the unfrozen channel with waves rolling through, and although it was false naughtyness, it still felt good to stand where you usually can't.

Jack had a riot playing Dog-of-All-Weather.  And I remember, once again, why I live in Duluth.

 This photo was taken by Sherry Rovig.  It was actually a point break about 12 miles from where I was hiking called Stony Point, but it's from the right day, lake, and storm. And a beautiful pic, -Thanks Sherry!

The Days of Pooh

I have loved my son since the day he was born.  Loved him so deeply and fiercely that sometimes it takes my breath away.  Every day in so many ways, it continues to amaze me.  He is always changing.  I remember when he was just a tiny baby at two months old.  That was him.  I could not conceptualize that he would ever change, and when a savvy co-worker gave me 12months and 2T outfits for a shower I panicked.  Those clothes were so big and foreign.  Would he still be adorable?  Would he be a stranger?  How could he ever change so much?  How would I ever know enough to handle such a giant?  Granted I was sleep deprived at the time and rather fragile, but the concerns were real even if the fears were over the top.  

Drop in six odd years later and I have come to terms with a few things.  My son will grow, and change, and still be magic in my eyes.  Some time frames will be good, some time frames will be bad, and we will get through it all with love and life in tact.  That said I am feeling a bit of that old panic tonight.

Tonight was golden.  The evening of Father's Day.  I worked all day and the boys had some marvelous adventures.  When I got home I took our son off Daddy's hands, and took him for a river swim.  We met up with boating friends who all managed to spawn at the same time.  All of different ages, situations, and locales, four families ended up with kiddos traveling the same grade, and we meet up every season or more for various adventures.  Tonight it was taking the kids "swimming" at a bend in the Knife River, a quiet Northwoods spot, not well traveled or much disturbed.  It was the perfect spot for a kindergarten adventure.  They do not need to go far to find adventure.  Being out of sight of the car, and away from the trail is a thrill.  Crossing calf deep water running mildly down rapids was enough for each of them to cling and squeal.  Once we got to the pool with some currant at the far side I took to ferrying the little tykes across a six foot section of chest deep water (for them) so each could scramble up near the cliff wall.  They would stand dripping and proud, looking about with big eyes, deciding if they wanted to jump back into my arms or just take a hand and try to flounder across.  It was exciting and heart pounding, for kids and adults.  I found myself counting them over and over as we all spread out a bit, making sure the ducklings were safe.  They are still small enough to need that, and they stay close enough for it to be possible.  Not a one strong enough or confident enough to really swim or duck dive in the four feet deep moving water.  Moving lazily in the pool, but still moving, and absolutely impossible to see through.  All my old lifeguard skills perked up.  And I was busy with fun too.

There was much ferrying, but also spins through the water, assisted jumps straight out of the water, traverses below mini-rapids, and piggybacks across the stones.  The little ones are still so tactile.  There was Alex, his best buddy from school Lily, Carver a little blondie, and Elaina the peanut.  Too excited to talk, mostly they would just flounder over and point or gesture where, or what.  They are not quite up to my chest, so my height was a big advantage for their swimming experience.  Plus I was one of the first parents in so I didn't mind getting soaked in the play.  We caught the last of the afternoon sun as we got in the first river swim of the year.  Alex loved it, and I see lots of potential for river or creek swims yet this summer.  Tomorrow is the solstice, and we are just getting started.

And then there is Pooh.  Alex likes to say, "Oh, bother.", when something does not go right, and he often talks about Pooh, and Piglet, and Eeyore.   He wants to know what will happen if he gets blown by the wind when holding onto a string, or if there are Woozles or Heffalumps under the bed.  Sometimes he even says, "Tiddley pom", or "Tut tut, looks like rain.".   Often he says, "Mama, I am rumbly in my tumbly."  And his little friends are right there too.  They are in the age of discovery, wondering at the Hundred Acre Woods.  Innocent as Pooh, scared as Piglet, brave as Tigger.  I saw it in their faces on the river.  Their joy at being there, their dawning realization of the wider world.  Excitement at the splash of water and miracle of swimming skills.  And their exhaustion at the end of the short adventure.  The help needed with wet suits and tired emotions.  The little hands seeking out mom or dad, needing steadiness and strength, wanting warmth and security.  The adventure wrapped up with kids bouncing about in their orbits, and parents making plans.  Then we all parted ways and it was me and my Alex.  My wonderful, innocent, Pooh loving Alex.  And this is where the panic comes in.  I love this age so much I fear the future, where he will not have Pooh as his hero.  When he leaves behind Piglet and takes up with Mario, or a Power Ranger, or something worse.  I wonder if I am destined to be always missing the Age of Pooh.  I wonder if he will change into something totally different as he grows.  I wonder if the real world will tarnish him in a way the Hundred Acre Woods never could.  I wonder if I will be able to keep him safe once he's too big to need to hold my hand.  That is exactly when the world gets it's most dangerous.

But for now he is still in my safe keeping.  I keep a weather eye on him, as do all the other good big people in his life.  I am loving all our adventures, and really do look forward to him growing up so we can go further, and faster, with just as much fun.  Maybe I will get lucky.  Maybe he will always have a soft spot for the silly old bear.  Maybe the world will keep him as safe as I want him to be.  Maybe he will have more good judgment than I ever had.  Maybe the older me will discover like the younger one did, this panic too shall pass.

Winter Fun

Alex, Jack, and I went skiing today.  It was Alex's third time on cross country skis this year, and the best outing yet.  Blue skies, gorgeous white snow, and warm temperatures.  He is so cute on his little skis, chugging along.  We have discovered a dog/ski trail at the end of our neighborhood, on a nice wooded golf course.  It is not too steep, not too curvy, and not too long.  We have yet to make a full circuit (about 5km) but may get there by the end of the year.

I have had to lay down the law about a few things.  Thou shalt get up on your own, is the big one and was instituted on his last trip.  Thou shalt not whine, another key commandment, was begun on this trip.  And Thou shalt wear sunglasses, will be started on his next outing.  Getting up on his own saves my back, no whining saves my sanity, and wearing sunglasses will be good for him directly.  He looked so cute rolling around on his back trying to figure out how to get his skis back under him.  I think it is excellent problem solving practice.

My motivational techniques sometimes are carrots and sometimes are sticks.  For the first two laws, sticks were in order.  But maybe not your normal sticks.  I threatened him with having to take his skis off and walk.  It went like this...  "Fwuump", down he went in a small heap.  "Mama, mama, pull me up!", from somewhere at snow level.  "Nope, you get yourself up or we will have to take your skis off and head back to the car."  -pause-  "Okay."  And up he would pop, usually sooner rather than later.  Dang, why didn't I do that the whole time last week?  Oh yeah, we were with friends and their kids, and I wasn't sure if he could get himself up.  By the end of that trip I was a bit fried so gave up on all help, and threatened walking because it was all I could think of.  To my amazement it worked, so I am sticking with it.  This time we were on our own, and my main goal was his independence.  I only gave him the tiniest help two times.  He was down at least two dozen.  Ahhhh, the sweet taste of success.  And he had fun!  And so did I.  Whining was minimized as well, and new techniques were dabbled with.  Like side stepping up the steep stuff, and skiing downhill through three inches of fresh powder.  It was quiet glorious.  I was day dreaming of other, longer ski trips to take in the future.  Visions of hut-to-hut trips in the mountains were dancing in my head.  Maybe a day at a downhill ski area with peaks nearby, and trails, trails, trails.  We could even start with the Upper Peninsula of Michigan before heading out West one day.  The whole snowy world awaits.

Adventure Calls

In the crush of parenthood, homeownership, working, and life in general I have gotten spotty at picking up the phone when adventure calls.  Sometimes I know and just don't pick up, other times I let the machine get it and never call back.  Still other times I have made sure I was out of reach or booked when I figured the call was going to come in.  I almost missed it this time and that would have been a shame, because there would not have been another call of this type to take this year. 

Today it was Lake Superior that was calling.  She wanted me to come out and play in the surf.  I know, I know, it is October and that sounds damn cold.  I almost declined on those grounds, but then I did the quick math and realized I would likely go the entire year without surfing if I did not get out.  Avoidant as  I am, that just did not sit right.  And it is not that cold yet.  It is not like it is snowing or anything.  So, I cautiously agreed to go out with my friend Alaina.  She and I have been kayaking together since the mid 90's, and we are nicely matched in skills.  She kicks my butt in alot of things, and occasionally I get to do the kicking.  We also live about five blocks apart, so the set up would be easy.   And we both have kid pressure so I knew she would be good for a similar time frame as me.   And thus our little adventure was born (and came to fruition with a lot of help from Kevin).  I whined a fair amount about it being cold, my being out of shape, and general anxiety over the surf, and she commiserated and yet got us out to do it.  And out we went.

Surfing on Lake Superior has changed in the last 20 years.  Back in the day it was all kayaks, and that was good.  The craft move similarly and all paddlers are evenly matched.  I know where a kayaker is going to go, and what to expect in general.  Now a days the fashion is all surfboards.  Surfboards!  That is so silly, but it is true.  I don't like this trend.  They sit out on top of the best waves, and then barely catch them.  They leave many waves wanting, but get freaked out when there is a kayaker in the line-up.  I have not figured out how to navigate this well, so I sit far away from them and barely get any rides.  I will figure it out eventually.  The thing is, they move differently, and have a whole code of ethics that I am not up on.  Again, I will figure it out eventually.  I suspect they are here to stay.  It was a big storm that brought on this surf so there were tons of them.  18, to be exact, sitting right where I wanted to be.  Oh well.  I wasn't up to speed today anyways due to it being my first day out on surf.   That always freaks me out and keeps my super conservative, so I doubt I really missed anything anyways.  Who knows, since I can't beat them maybe some day I will join them.  When I need a new hobby.  Ha!

Even with the anxiety, the driving rain, the 40 degree temperatures, and the surfers, it was marvelous.  Lake Superior is breathtaking, and Stony Point is gorgeous.  It is a spot where there is a large rock ledge, an old lava flow, that seeps into the lake and smooths out the bottom for some killer waves.  The water is clear, as there are no creeks coming in nearby, and it is blue.  Very blue.  I am not sure how that works since all the rivers that flow into the lake are Tannin Brown, like root beer or tea, but Lake Superior is a gorgeous blue color.  Especially at Stony Point where the rock is light grey.  Grey, and today it was being pounded by huge blue waves that would hit the ledge and then spray a good 15 feet into the air.  The sky was grey too, due to the rain coming sideways.  But really, it was rather warm.  Once I got into my wet suit bottoms, layers of fleece, dry top (think gor-tex with rubber gaskets at neck and wrists), spray skirt, bulky life jacket, head cover, helmet, and gloves, well by that time I was quite warm.  And I did not feel the wind or the rain.  Just the excitement of getting out on the lake. 

Lake waves and surf are quite a different thing from waves on the river.  On the river the waves stand mostly still and the water runs past.  In the lake the waves are crashing past and the water is mostly still.  And the waves are ever changing.  The swell comes from far out, where is has built across the miles with wind action.  It is uniform and not very big until the bulk of it begins to run into the shallowing bottom.  Then the swell rises into a peak, and if it rises high enough the wall of the peak turns verticle and curls over to crash down on itself as momentum pushes it towards it's end on the shore.  After the crash the wave is all whitewater, frothing and rolling on towards the beach.  Surfers play on the wave face, kayakers play on the wave face and in the whitewater.  As long as you keep your balance you can ride the wave and the whitewater; twisting, turning, spinning, and even backwards riding.  It is very fun, and exhilirating.  If you lose your balance you are dragged along upside down, while the wave tries to foil every attempt to roll.  Sometimes if you roll you get slapped over by the next one, and sometimes the next one.  It has been awhile since my balance was in question that way, but I still remember.  And that balance can go when one is freaked out or tired.  So I remember, and play it safe.  Probably too safe today, I only got a few good rides in the hour we were out.  But they were worth the trouble. 

It feels so good to be finally floating after all the prep, scrambling and racing on the way out after pushing off shore.  Next you power through the whitewater that's trying to push you back to the shore, line after line of whitewater.  If the waves are too big then the whitewater or building waves can pushes you too far back, of flip you over entirely before you break out into the quiet zone where the water is deep.  Then you get to turn around, assess the waves coming in, wave to a few surfers, confer with your paddling buddy, and wait for a good ride to catch.  Always adjusting position for wave and wind action and the strength of butterflies in your stomach.  There are always many false starts before the perfect situation is reached.  Where the wave is just right, your position is just right, and your will and skill takes you onto the moving face for a ride, ride, ride.  Oh it is glorious when it all comes together.  And really, this opportunity, to surf Lake Superior and be a part of her power in a fun crazy way is one of the reasons I settled here.

I am glad adventure called today, and I will try to remember to pick up earlier next time. 

An Almost Perfect Day

"Following the leader, the leader, the leader, following the leader down the rapids!"  When the going got tough, the tough got singing.  I don't even remember why Alex was unhappy, but he started asking where the car was.  This is not a good sign when it is a good two river hours away, with lots of rapids in between.  But that little song turned it around.  Suddenly he was happy to be out in our inflatable kayak, following three friends down a long and twisty rapids.  Perhaps it was having to leave the rope swing behind that we had discovered, and the boys had tested, that got him grumpy.  Jethro, at 11, had done an excellent job climbing the ladder up the bank and swinging out over the river.  Alex got to the first rung and dragged his way in, twice.  Which I thought was great for a little guy who is not even a graduated pollywog.  And he did too.  Jethro was not impressed.  He went higher and higher, and probably would have stayed there all day, but we had to move on so we could get home sometime.  The river was low, low, super low, so it took longer than usual.  But it was stone gorgeous out.  Hot and sunny in mid-September.  The woods starting to turn to fire.  I tried to get our friends with a cata-raft out with their two girls, plus more friends who boat whose son would have fit with Alex, but no luck.  It was just our little crew of five people and four boats.  No dog this time, maybe if Kevin had come along to wrangle and play.  He had to get some work in before we go off to Pittsburgh next week, so I played it safe.  Alex is doing great with the whitewater routine now.  He does not even protest when I clip on his helmet, or stuff him is his wet suit.  He prefers sitting on the bow of the boat, with feet in the water if I let him, and I have to get stern to have him sit near me for big water.  But he sits, and then grins through the whole rapid.  This year he has gotten to paddle with a mini-canoe paddle, next year we may need to upgrade.  For entertainment today Anett rolled with his paddle, after making her boat go in a circle while she was upside down.  They don't have a TV either...  Anyways, between the rope swinging and the singing down rapids and the entertainment, it was another perfect day (except for the parent missing out).  After the first verse that I made up Alex took it over and continued to sing down the river, inventing new phrases as we went.  It was a golden moment.  For a kid who didn't talk much a year ago, we sure have come a long way.

Glorious Fall

It has been drop dead gorgeous up North.  75 degrees and sunny.  My tomatoes are finally ripening and the apple tree is packed with Haralreds.  I have been running up on Hawk Ridge regularly, which is up behind our house.  I can leave the house and with a little three block warm up be into a trail through the woods that connects to the Superior Hiking Trial.  Eventually you will be able to get from my house to Canada on foot.  For now I just go about 3km and am very happy winding through the pines and oaks, past the raspberries and thimble berries.  On the ridge our family has seen chipmunks galore, multiple cheeky squirrels, a zillion lbb's (little brown birds), deer a-plenty, hawks, eagles, owls, and even two black bears.  It is a magic place.  Usually I run up with the dog.  It used to be our old dog, and I have named my favorite height Lucky Peak after her.  Jack has not earned a landmark yet, but that will come.  I find running clears my head, gets my blood going, and makes my days better.  I have been at it consistently for three years now and would recommend it to anyone with good joints. 

So, we are now at the end of week two of school for Alex.  It has been a long road, with many twists and turns to get here.  Today he was observed by the Autism specialist, Sheila Merzer, that the school hired for better programming for Alex.  We are going to the annual Harvest Fest tonight for North Shore Community School, so I hope to hear more about the day.  We get a communication notebook home every day, and so far it has all been good news.  Alex is happy in his class, and is fully integrated.  He has not needed to be pulled out once due to meltdown or upset.  He does have a full time aide that he shares with another boy, and I don't know yet how much assistance he has been needing.  I will be checking on that shortly.  So far it has been time to get used to the routine and slot in as much as possible.  The Autism specialist is one of the best in the business, and she will have spotted all the places where it looks like Alex is understanding, but he really isn't.  That is the tricky thing about Autism with Alex.  He learns patterns and how things work in one way, but cannot easily transfer that knowledge.  So we are always trying to vary things and figure out where the knowledge gaps are.  We are going out of state early next week, so this is the last day of school for Alex for a week.  I hope to write a bit more once I hear how things have gone this week.  Overall, from our end, he comes home happy and tired.  He sits with the same little friend on the way to school, Lussi, and plays with her at school too.  He also talks about his new friends Issac and Beourn.  Plus he has started reciting some of the school routines at home, like holding up one finger for quiet, two for stand up, and three for go quietly to the door.  Oh, the bus is here, gotta run!

Summer Review

 Well, I do not know why these photos are so small, must be the formatting and will try to fix it in time.  It has been an excellent summer for camping and outdoor adventures.  We finally got ourselves a used Grumman canoe to go with the 14 kayaks, and that really upped our camping.  Also I pitched a little fit last year when I realized we had not camped AT ALL, and swore this year would be different.

 Jack and Alex both did great in the new canoe- The William B.  Our only trouble was when Kevin was casting from the stern.  I was pretty sure there would be major chaos if he landed a fish.  Luckily this did not happen.  

  

 Our first real camping trip was up to Indian Lakes Campground at Brimson.  I found the perfect North Shore camping guide by Andrew Slade and we just got amped and started going whenever time and weather permitted.  The first trip was early June.

 Jack turned out to be an excellent camping companion.  He even figured out how to open the tent on his own when he needed out in the middle of the night. 

 

Mid July the Carlton Kayak Races came along again.  This was our 13th year of putting on the St. Louis River Whitewater Rendezvous.  Always a marvelous time.  Yes, that's me going down the top drop on the Slalom.  Whee!

 

 Alex's best friend Fraya was in the horse show at our little county fair, so we went to cheer her on.  Alex loved the animal barns this year (previous years he has refused to go in...too loud) and he is getting a taste for rides as well.  It is not summer in the Mid-west without them!

 

 Our biggest camping trip was a three day to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area.  On the first night, when we camped in campground on Sawbill Lake, Alex met this big bug.  He thought it was very cool.  On the second night we had some bedtime tears (which never ever happens in our house- we are very fortunate in his sleep habits).  I am not sure if it was because we were out for a second night, or because we were away from the car (at Alton Lake on portage in to the BWCA), or just because he was extra tired.  That was our only autism bump in the road.  Otherwise the usual kid whining occured at times, fixed by strategic snacks and distractions.

 

Finally in late August and early September the weather was warm enough for more expeditions in our new inflateable kayak.  We now know Alex can fit in it with an adult, and a dog or second little kid.  It is a bit of extra work to add  the dog or another kid, but well worth it.  We started with short trips, then added long trips with snacks on board, and finally cut the snacks to only at rest breaks.  He is taking the whitewater like a champ, and has now been on board for class II+ and III-.   Yeah, it has been a good summer!

The Perfect Day

Whitewater. My addiction. Or perhaps passion, since addiction con notates a continuing indulgence. And while my recent outings (in the last 6 years) have not been as frequent, they have been memorable. Last summers five day paddling trip to Wausau was excellent, for example. I was on my own, like the old days. I got to teach a little and train a lot. I visited many family members and friends. I introduced a great young man to the sport. And I reacquainted myself with my slalom boat on big water. I even won some money, which I spent on gas and extra Whitewater T-shirts and sweats for my boys. Our local slalom was also a blast last year, with hot competition among the "senior" women (maybe they could call us Cougarettes) and good runs for Kevin. We traded keeping Alex on dry land. And there have been various days on creeks in the spring, several good surf days out on the big lake, and play sessions with friends down in Taylors falls. Yes, great and memorable days, but not like this one.

Today was perfect. I wish I had a camera along, but will have to resort to 1,000 words instead. Picture blue and breezy skies, warm water, and bug free woods. Deep woods, cut through by sparkling whitewater. And into this scene came a group of seven. A nice number for a long leisurely paddle down 4.5 miles of whitewater. The group could form and reform, making variations, stopping to play and visit, and keeping it lively. No one was in a rush. There were two families of three, and a spare. Four parents, two kids, and an experienced local boater out for his first cruise of the year. Alex won the prize for youngest, at five. Jethro got the nod for bravest, at eleven and in his own boat. Mama Beth was second bravest, alone in an inflatable with the five year old. Kevin paddled shotgun in his play boat, and actually did not need to stay real close. It was happy and mellow paddling in the SS Kinney. No threat of falling out, except when a tired boy threatened to throw himself overboard at the end. But more on that later.

This little trip was a gamble. How does your average five year old deal with going down a long whitewater river for the first time? Well, no one actually knows as so few have done it. His last trip had been approximately eight minutes, he did great then he was done. He wanted out, and that was it. No second run. No way. This was going to be a wee bit longer, by about four hours. But the advantage was that no one would be on shore, daddy would be in a boat too, the car would be out of sight, and actually everything he was familiar with was out of sight. No roads, no paths, no trails. Just the river. And me with a dry bag full of treats. This was a good strategy.

And he liked the rapids. After the first experience of getting wet at the front he decided to sit closer to me, and that was just fine. He got nervous and started shouting, "Whoa, Whooaa, Whoooaaaa!" as we went down wave trains, but was soon wanting to go down more, or paddle back up to go down again. He had his little canoe paddle in the front, I had my kayak paddle in the back. He would sometimes get to swinging it about, or tossing it overboard, in which case it would take a rest behind me. The treat bag was useful for long pools between rapids, except the time he ate a granola bar way to slow and I had to go down stream trying to avoid all splashes so it would stay dry in his hand. It worked. The Louie is a nice progressive river so the rapids and waves kept getting bigger. By the last few he was grinning ear to ear in the drops.

He also liked the setting in general. At the start there was a nice little drop to play in, so he and the other boy got out on the rocks and had their own fun. Floating in a 1 1/2 foot "pool" that was 5 feet across with a little jet of water through the middle, scrambling on rocks, looking at various wildlife. At the half way point we all stopped at a canyon and climbed up to a rocky overlook to bask in the sun and have more treats. And at the end he was tired of sitting in the boat, so he draped himself across the bow, dragging arms and legs in the water. We didn't move very fast, but it was fun. He was rather cranky at that point and kept saying, "If I fall in, if I fall in!", and I kept assuring him, "I'll drag you out". But he really did want to go in so we worked together to almost lower him all the way into the water, but then he would get unsure so I would drag him back in. It was a very good time. And he bonded with Jethro too. Jethro was giving him tips on how to paddle, and initiated a few splash fights. Alex was shouting for Jethro to come over to our boat by the end of the trip.

I would be lying if I said there weren't a few tears here and there, mostly due to being wet and staying wet in clothing. And also getting used to paddling gear. Plus some blinding sun, and generally a new environment. Next time we will have better gear, sun glasses with floaties, and more treats. Over all, however, it was a stellar day. I am happy, and satisfied, and ready to go again when we get the chance. Kevin swears he will paddle Alex next time, and bring the dog too. For that I will surely find a way to keep the camera dry. As for this first trip, the acid test was when we got to the dock four and a half hours after our start, and Alex asked, "Why are we done???".

Spring, catch it while it lasts!

Well, here it is, May. May? May. In Duluth these things can creep up on you. In some ways it feels like it has not been Spring at all. Winter seemed to hang in forever, and then we didn't get Spring, just mud. I have not gotten out to play, and instead have let many things consume me, such as Autism, work, deaths, business, home, and Alex's future.

The worst thing, perhaps, has been the decision of where to send Alex for school. So many options floated around. Local school, or "special" school, half day or full day, school district or charter, regular curriculum or "basics" curriculum. The school district has it's ideas, which seem to be all kids with autism need the same level of support. Meaning a mostly separate classroom, with some inclusion, maybe. We had clarified that since mainstreaming in preschool was going very well we did NOT want that option. "Awwh, really?" was the response, even after a long clarification of the benefits of mainstreaming and the stellar progress Alex has made this year. The icing on the cake was hearing second hand that my IEP manager thought that I simply did not want my son labeled. Good thing my philosophy is that success is the best revenge, otherwise my spring may have been filled with psychotic retaliation. Into this morass enter a serendipitous trip to beauty salon. No really, it's true, I got a hot tip on the best elementary school ever from the wonderful woman that cuts my hair. The North Shore Elementary School is north of Duluth by 6 miles. It is in the woods. It has 40 acres, that include trails, ponds, skating rinks (2), gardens, and a straw-bale greenhouse. It is Environmental Education based (my first college degree), they have Outside time (beyond recess) every day, they are sponsored by the Wolf Ridge Environmental center of Northern Minnesota, they will not be closing, moving, or remodeling like ALL of Duluth's schools, their staff will not be shuffled around like cards (again like all of Duluth schools), and best of all, their principal is PUMPED to have Alex in the school. She has worked with many autistic kids in her previous job and she said the magic words, "You and Kevin know your son best and we want your complete input in all aspects of teaching him." Including requirements for his aide, and any and all necessary accommodations. Hallelujah. We did not jump immediately, but as I considered more and more how frustrated we have been for the last three years with the Duluth school district I knew it was likely we would go. We searched our personal network for information on the new school and heard 95% glowing reports. The other 5% we can deal with. I could go on and on, but will stop here. Needless to say, we jumped. We jumped from the giant ship of Duluth, to the tiny sailboat of NSCS. It is it's own charter school, and is run by it's teachers. Oh, we are so ready. This past year at a private preschool has been delightful and Alex continues to grow in so many ways. He is charming these days, and we are having so much fun with games and language and explorations. We can hardly wait to see what next year will bring.

So, things are looking up. Yes, there will be a lot of work yet to get Alex's new education plan on track, but it is all very exciting. Plus it is full on Spring now, green grass, leaves popping, blue skies, the works. I am off to a slalom kayak race this weekend and will pick up the greatest family toy... an inflaitable kayak so that we can take Alex on many a river adventure. And non-boating friends too. I competed in my first 5 km of the season last weekend and didn't die or anything. Mother's Day was a blast. And we are getting our camping plan together for the summer. And the garden plan too. Warm weather may be in short supply up North, but we use it to it's full advantage. Yes, things are looking up, and I may even blog more than once every two months too.

Winter Family Report

Okay, so it has been awhile since I have posted. It is not for lack of desire to connect with friends and family, but rather the old organization challenge. It has been an excellent winter in many respects so I will outline some of the fun being had in no particular order (because then I would have to remember the order).
With Alex there has been

• Sledding galore
• Downhill skiing
• "Hiking" with Jack (half being pulled on the sled)
• Tobogganing
• Winter parties with snow fun and bonfires
  

With Kevin there has been

• A fancy Scottish dinner (Robert Burns turns 250)
• Various Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon highjinx

Family wise there has been

• A trip to Family Camp way up North
• More "hiking" with Jack
• More downhill skiing
• Watching the Inaguration on line- and promising Alex we will take him to the White House when he is 8
  

And on my own there has been

• Running on frozen rivers with Jack
  
• Skiing the trails with friends, including by moonlight
  
• Jumping through a hole in the ice after a nice long sauna, three times, at night by lantern light (at a balmy 10 degrees F)

All this in addition to getting through several days of minus 30 degrees F where school was cancelled, keeping up house and home, work, preschool, business, therapies, and volunteering at Peace church. Yikes, no wonder it seems like it has been a long winter. And in all this there has been the great joy of hearing "President Obama" as a statement of fact not conjecture. Sure, there has been quite a bit of dark and depressing news, but there is also great hope.

Alex had his assessment back on December 31, and we had the great pleasure of having it confirmed that we are doing the right things with him. We didn't get any new labels, but the psychiatrist did feel that he is on his way to being fully mainstreamed. She will be attending his preschool in April and write her report to support a schooling path that will be most beneficial to him. We are not exactly sure what that will be right now, but as the year progresses it will become clearer. Unfortunately the school district has not been great at helping him fulfill his greated potential. The schools are more focused on smooth sailing for the schools, but I guess that will keep Kevin and I employed fully as parents. Alex is definitely wanting to interact with his peers now, but still cannot communicate at his age level. We are going to move up a level at the Scottish Rite Language Clinic, from his interacting with the therapist and me or Kevin, to having another kid in the sessions. We have recruited his dear friend Fraya and these sessions start this week. It should be interesting.

Kevin has been working extremely hard at the business. He has had orders coming out his ears and has been dealing with a back log since a few weeks before Christmas. People held off from ordering in November and early December, then noticed they were cold or needed new gear. He is close to caught up now, and that is a good feeling.

So, that it is for now. I will try to post more,and more frequently, but must admit that Face book has eaten into my computer time a bit. Ahh technology... once again working to find the balance. Good luck to all with enjoyment of the end of winter. Only six more weeks, sez Puxatuney Phil, and we will be on to spring!

Snow, Glorious Snow

Happy 2009! For winter lovers the new year is certainly off to a good start. For winter haters... there is always tanning. I have finally gotten out and LOVE IT. Went sledding a few days ago with my dear friends Kerisa and Anna and we had a blast with Alex and Jack. Jack is an excellent sledding dog. He runs and frolics but does not nip or bark. He even took the sled part way back up the hill one time. Not happy, but he did it. It kept bumping his butt. Alex was a bit more hesitant but had some great moments. They included several tandem rides with all adults, and even a solo or two. I think there is a serious future in it for him. The only loser was our sled. It cracked into five pieces by the end of the venture, so now the search begins. Mid winter sled hunting... better than looking for the Titanic. Today Kerisa got me out on my first cross country ski of the year. I can't believe I waited this long. And whined as much as I did about how I should clean/organize/declutter/whatever, before I said, "Oh what the hell, Alex is at school, I better go." It was fantastic. The temps in the 20's. The trail perfect (now that the groomer is fixed). The woods gorgeous. And wonderful company. Look out, I shall never blog again. Every spare moment will be on that lovely Lester Park Trail at the end of the neighborhood, or possibly going up the river on skis with the dog bounding behind. Happy Snow Year!!

Winter Arrives

The Storm
It is winter in a big way now. Today it came to the door with champagne and flowers. We are in the midst of our first snow storm of the season. As we were driving away from church this morning, on our way to coffee and a close view of the lake, the boom lowered and we went from Christmas tunes to the sound track of the Titanic. Skies turned black, visibility dropped to about two feet, and four wheel drive did not mean four wheel stop. If you have never been to Duluth you may not realize that it is also known as "Little San Francisco" for its steep hills. This makes for tricky navigating, worse downhill than up. Well, we were going down, and a mere stop light holds no sway over gravity. I kind of like this kamikaze driving, but Kevin does not. Especially when other cars on the road have less grip and less sense. Since the whole family was out we decided to head it home, as we could not actually see the 14 foot waves out on Lake Superior. Too much driving snow and gale force wind. Other than sliding through a few intersections and some sideways slippage it was uneventful once we got out of the wind tunnel of downtown. By 3pm school had been canceled for tomorrow, and the buses were no longer running. The whole town looked like one of those bad head cold commercials, the ones where people shoulder into the white wind in their flapping winter coats. Alex and I spent the afternoon down at Sam and Fraya's house, having our annual Christmas party. Opening presents, baking cookies, and generaly being very silly. Only nine blocks away, we Subarued down, and made it home tonight just fine. The storm warnings go until tomorrow at noon, and it will be interesting to see exactly how deep the snow gets. I think the official report will be around a foot. For the first storm of the season it is not too bad.

Winter Magic
Before the storm we had a nice warm up for the season. It has been steadily getting colder since November, and dustings of snow have come now and again. It is a relief when the blanket of snow actually arrives because it brightens up the world immensely. Those without winter may not believe me but it is true. There is nothing darker than a snowless November, where all light is sucked in by miles of bare trees, acres of dead grasses and brush, and endless grey skies. Once snow arrives the lights are turned back on, and the earth sighs with relief that the rooted plants and little animals with be safe from the brutal cold. So, the lights being back on, that is magic trick number one. Number two is a most beautiful sound in the world. With snow and cold comes quiet. In deep cold comes deep quiet. You notice the squeak of snow under foot. Your breath becomes alive. And you can almost hear your nose hairs crackle as they freeze when you breathe sharply in. In this weather the rivers freeze completely over, but they are still alive. I love to hike on or near frozen rivers, especially the little wild ones around here. In the middle of town you can drop into a canyon and be alone in the world, you, the woods, and the river. That in itself is breath taking, but then to hear the gurgle of water under ice... pure magic. I could listen all day. I don't know what it is about it, but it is an amazing music I never tire of. The silence, your breath, the movement of almost frozen water under ice. Words do not do it justice. And this brings us to the third magic moment of winter for me so far. The feather bed. Not the feather quilt, that has been on since October. No, the super thick quilt that goes under you and under the bottom sheet and radiates warmth up in a way no other bedding can. Ahhhhhhh. For days are short, nights are long, and we should all really be hibernating in our feather caves. Good night!

Firsts

There have been many firsts, lately. The first lawn mowing. The first day with the windows open and the heat off. The first sunburn. The first day that Hawk Ridge is green, not brown. And Kevin and Alex had a big first too.

It was up on Hawk Ridge. This is the ridge at the back of our neighborhood. We live in between Lake Superior and Hawk Ridge, about one mile of little houses. Hawk Ridge is so named because of an autumn phenomenon. The hawks and eagles of the north migrate south, but they will not cross large bodies of water. Lake Superior slants to the north east, and all the raptors heading south from north eastern Minnesota and up into Canada funnel along the shore. As they hit Duluth the ridge is the perfect place for viewing them, and the winds at times are perfect for making giant kettles of birds. They number into the hundreds at times, and even into the thousands when conditions are right. The whole ridge is wooded, with trails winding throughout and wonderful overlooks for the lake and our 'hood.

So, the boys were up on Hawk Ridge last week, hiking among the newly green trees with the dog. A beautiful day to be out in the sun... and so it is not surprising they were not alone. When Kevin saw the big black dog he was not surprised. When he saw it's bigger mother, and she stood up, he stopped all forward motion. Fortunately they were just a little far off, and Lucky could not see over the old, brown grass. She probably would have hid anyways, bears not being her favorites. Being a good daddy, Kevin picked up Alex like a suitcase, and began to quietly back away. The bears could have cared less. Once the mama bear concluded the Kinney boys were not a threat she continued quietly munching. Black bears generally are very mellow, unless you trap them in your garage. Kevin swears this was the Lakeside Bear, who has a cub or twins every year and often raids local bird feeders. I am not so sure, but whoever she was she gave Alex something to talk about. His first wild bear sighting at age four, I'm so proud!

(And if you like birding, check out www.hawkridge.org, it's all about the raptors and the ridge.)

Tragedy at the Outdoor Pursuits Centre

The worst I could imagine when I was working at the Outdoor Pursuits Centre of New Zealand has happened. A young woman instructor took a group of students on a Centre approved adventure last week, and 6 students and their teacher died. The instructor and 3 students lived. Were mistakes made? Of course. Death is never an acceptable adventure outcome and this was not just "an act of God". Risks were taken that in hindsight look totally inappropriate. An adventure was undertaken that we could not even attempt as part of an insured center in the US. But the fact is hindsight is too easy, and I was a part of that system. Something similar could have happened on my watch.

What this group was doing was "canyoning". Going into a restricted, boulder strewn canyon with a river running through it. I was in that very canyon several times. I wore my wet suit, helmet, and life jacket, just like this group. It was always spooky and exciting. I never did take my own group there, and that was okay with me. I rappeled in with staff for training and group building, spending several hours boulder hopping, wading, swimming, climbing, and scrambling back out again. The tragic group walked up from the bottom, for an up and back down again trip. While they were in there a drought breaking storm hit the volcanoes 4km away and the river rose very high, very fast. As they attempted to exit the gorge most of the group was swept over a dam and further down river. There is a full investigation happening now and it will continue for months. The families and friends of the victims are devastated, as are the OPC staff and the greater community. This is a complete tragedy in all senses of the word. I feel deeply for that instructor. The situation is horrifying.

I survived my time at the Outdoor Pursuits Centre, as did all of my students. Not just survived but thrived. There were marvelous adventures had, growth galore, lives changed and uplifted. It was a peak experience in many ways. The OPC has given so much to the world, that Sir Edmund Hillary was willing to lend it his name. He was the first to summit Everest and of course knew all about the risks of adventures. New Zealanders in general are fantastically adventurous folks, and their country one of the best places on earth for adventures. In our world today, I believe that outdoor pursuits are an antidote to many of societies ills. They bring out the best in people and put society into great perspective. But. But they must always be weighed and measured. And this is the tricky part. This is what will really be investigated. Were the risks appropriate. For the students, the instructor, the staff, the Centre itself. Was the chain of decision making appropriate. Were all of the risk mitigating factors and systems in place correctly. Huge questions and many will be answered philosophically because they cannot be fully answered technically. If we looked at all the risks in the world we would never go anywhere. And what kind of life is that? But now that I am a mom I see it all more clearly, or maybe life is held more dearly. I have always been a safety nut, while at the same time pursuing adventure sports. I have lived that delicate balance. Now that I have a son, it is all getting re-weighed. I know the rewards of the outdoors (they are fantastic), and I try to take into account all the risks (they are vast). I hope to pass along both of those areas of knowledge, and keep getting out there myself. When done right it is still all less risky than getting into a car. But the fact is there are seven young people who died last week due to outdoor adventures, and many others left behind to sort it all out. I feel for everyone, and especially that instructor.

Where There's a Will There's a Way - The First Family Camping Trip

The giant tent was courtesy of Kevin's wheelchair accessible tent design project. This design was eventually picked up by Eureka tents and is now marketed under the Freedom Tent.

Meera and Alex had great fun in the Condo. Eventually we had four babies hanging out.

Here is a high tech baby containment device for outside the tent. Happy Meera, nice and dry, and clean.

Lucas was practicing his Voyageur songs. Yes, there are Personal Flotation Devices for every size. But we did not need to find out how well they work. All babies went out on the water (in three canoes with eight parents), none went in.

I wont say this camping trip to the edge of the Boundary Waters in May of 2004 wasn't a lot of work, but it sure was memorable. Now that Alex is of an age where he can follow basic commands, sit relatively still, and walk on a portage, we will do a trip INTO the Boundary Waters this summer. Yahoo!

Grey Day Dreams

This is one of my favorite photos from when the Bean was tiny. And good for today because it is truly grey outside. It is grey today, and was yesterday and the day before. It is supposed to be grey tomorrow too. So it is a good day for dreams of summer to come. And it is time to plan the upcoming camping season. We have learned to get out early, or we might not get out at all.

When Alex was 10 months old we did a very ambitious venture, taking three other families with infants to the edge of the Boundary Waters. It was May. It was cold. And it rained quite a bit. Fortunately we had the entire campground to ourselves and set up just how we wanted things. Big tarps at one giant kitchen and space for everyone in the best sites. The kids took it in shifts to wake up crying every hour throughout the night, but no one in our group cared. During the day we put the kids in Tupperware tubs when we had to put them down, nice and dry. They were all too little to climb out. Plus they fit perfect in the canoes. And we did manage to get all four families and kids out on the water at same time. It was quite a fun trip, and the beginning of Alex's camping career. I'll post photos from old camping adventures as I get more organized.

For now it is time to get inspired and put some fun into the calendar. This year we may even get in a real canoe trip. Maybe, we'll see. But for sure we will camp. And canoe. And bike. And kayak. And hike. It will all happen, because we are planning ahead and the grey weather can't last forever. Can it??