Recommissioning the boat — Curacao; Nov. 9 – Dec. 14, 2015

We arrived back in Curacao on November 9, after a three-hop trip that took us from Atlanta to New York to Miami to Curacao. We lived on the boat on the hard until November 24, during which time the boat was washed and waxed, the bottom was painted with anti-fouling, and the prop and rudder were cleaned and then painted with PropSpeed.  We were on the hard longer than expected because of the delay in the delivery of our bottom paint.  We use a brand that is not popular down here, and so had to order it through Marine Warehouse for deliver just before we returned to Cuarcao.  They had the paint delivered to the shipping company on time but forgot to give the official approval for the shipping.  Fortunately, before we departed the US we checked to ensure it had been delivered to Curacao , and learned of the problem from the shipping company.  They were able to get the paint on their ship the next day, but it still was two weeks before we actually saw the paint.  So we spent an extra week climbing a ten foot tall ladder to get on and off the boat many times a day.  Curacao Marine did a great job getting us back in the water as quickly as possible.

We socialized with “Changes” and “More Mischief”, and later with Bill (“Dolce Vita”) and his friend Bruce, who accompanied him to get the boat ready while Colleen stayed back in the States spending time with Bruce’s wife. Bruce helped me with installing new gaskets/o-rings in the dinghy carburetor, and Bill & Bruce both helped us install our new 32” flat screen TV in the saloon. (We gave the old 20” one away.) We stayed at the marina dock until December 7, during which time I put down two maintenance coats of varnish on the cap rails and ascended the mast to replace the sticky wind meter. While still at Curacao Marine we walked a number of times down to Willemstad, where we saw the finale of Hunger Games and had some lunches and shopped multiple times at the extensive and picturesque Venezuelan fruit and vegetable market. When at last we were in Spanish Water, we went for a number of 10K-step walks. (Guess who has become Fit-bit obsessed.) Near a huge abandoned “mansion”, we asked a young man doing some painting about the origin of the building, and he said that it was the home of a “boss” slave owner in former times. Later research on the web revealed that the building was constructed in 1883, well after the abolition of slavery in Curacao. In fact the building is known as the Quarantine Building, and was used to house arriving sailors for an interval to see if they had yellow fever. The young man also said that a clutch of nearby roofless rooms was former slave quarters, but we have become somewhat skeptical of that description.

When Bill & Bruce had their boat ready, they left for Bonaire. But Bruce was scheduled to ultimately fly back to the States from Curacao, and so would need to take Insel Air from Bonaire to Curacao. Likewise, Colleen was scheduled to fly in to Curacao from the States and then catch the Insel Air puddle jumper over to Bonaire. So we picked Bruce up at the airport the day before his flight to the States, and he stayed overnight on Tusen Takk II. As an (unnecessary) gesture of thanks, he took us out to dinner at the Renaissance Restaurant in Otrobanda. We took Bruce back to the airport the next day, and waited for Colleen to arrive, since she was bringing us parts and supplies from the States. Her flight was delayed, and for a time it looked like she would miss her flight to Bonaire. So Bill, attempting to be helpful, made a phone call and changed her ticket to a next-day flight, and we would have another overnight guest. In the end, Colleen was able to change the tickets yet again and catch a later flight that night, so we left the airport without her after sharing a pizza “supper”. Later we learned that her flight to Bonaire was delayed three hours so she didn’t get there until after midnight.  We look forward to joining them in Bonaire soon.  We are able to spend six months in Bonaire a year and then have to be away for six months.  Since we left Bonaire on June 15th, our target date to return is December 15th.

Our last visit of the season; Family & Friends — November 5-8, 2015

We spent our first night in Atlanta visiting Michael McAlister and his wife Scarla.  Michael and Barb used to work together back in the old days for Southern Company Services in Savannah.  Mike now works for Southern Company Services in Atlanta.  We are tremendously indebted to Mike, since he owns and maintains the server for this blog.  We took Mike out to dinner in a totally inadequate token of our appreciation; Scarla had a conflict and joined us back at their home later, where they put us up for the night in their beautiful new technologically-sophisticated home.  (Mike has a “lamp” that accepts verbal commands to change settings on appliances, turns lights on and off, and tells corny jokes on request.  We enjoyed reminiscing about the old days and hearing about all of the former colleagues.

Next day we moved over to see daughter Nellie and her guy Mike Sullivan and his sons Mike and Conner.  Nellie’s daughters Katie and Jessie (and Jessie’s friend Deja) flew in later that night.  Katie is working in Cary, NC, and Jessie and Deja are students at Appalachian State University in Boone, NC.  Nellie and Mike have just purchased a home together in Atlanta, so one of our projects for the weekend was to go see the new house and to hear the plans for its many rooms.  The lives of these two lawyers continue to be as busy as ever, so they don’t anticipate being able to begin the move until after the new year.  Mike’s “old” home was too small to accommodate us all, so Barb and I slept in the Marriott Suites Midtown Hotel, complements of a few of Nellie’s many earned travel points.

We had a number of meals in interesting restaurants; I took the opportunity to get some portraits during one lunch.  Barb and I visited the High Museum of Art during one lull in the action, where we saw an outstanding exhibit about the Hapsburg Dynasty.  And we all visited the fabulous Atlanta aquarium, where my favorite was the gigantic main tank, chock full of fish of all sizes, including at least three whale sharks.

Before we were cruisers, we used to join Nellie in Cary, NC every year for Thanksgiving.  This year, we were a little early for Thanksgiving, but we were certainly thankful for the opportunity to spend some time with Nellie and her girls, and to be able to get to know Mike a little better, and to meet his sons Mike and Conner.  We look forward to next year when they will have moved into the new home.  We hope the pre-Thanksgiving gathering in Atlanta can become a new tradition.

 

Still good friends, but no longer boating friends — Mars Hill & Brevard, NC; Nov. 2-5, 2015

We rented an auto in Savannah and drove up to Asheville, NC to see our long-time cruising friends Hunter & Devi who live near Mars Hill, North Carolina.   They appear to have adjusted very well, thank you, to being CLODs (Cruisers Living on Dirt).  Gorgeous and commodious house, and Hunter has the beginnings of a first-rate woodworking shop on the property.  They have obviously integrated extremely well into the community; there was a lot of buzz about social events upcoming after our departure.  Barb and Devi took a number of walks in the area.  Hunter and I, less so.  I developed sore ankles after the first hike and declined additional opportunities.  Hunter is still rehabilitating after a hip replacement and hiking is temporarily off his activity list.  We all had some interesting drives in the neighborhood, including a visit to Hot Springs where we soaked in a hot tub filled with naturally warm/hot water.  Barb and Devi attended a yoga session one evening at an establishment where Devi sometimes instructs.   And we had a great meal at the Rhubarb Restaurant in Asheville.  When the visit was over, the Sharps drove us back to Asheville where we rented another one-way vehicle and drove to Atlanta, stopping along the way to visit the folks who got us interested in trawlers:  Ed & Gwen Flinn, formerly of Savannah, GA, but now living in a lovely cabin near Brevard.  Fun to reminisce about the old days when we anchored together behind the verdant barrier islands of Georgia.  And fun to see a bit of Gwen’s art.  Back in our storage room in Savannah we still have some of Gwen’s prints and one lovely original.  Dag nammit!  We were so busy visiting we forgot to take photos.

Alas, we had promises to keep, so too soon we continued our drive to Atlanta, where we traded yet another one-way vehicle for a local one and made our way to visit family and friends.  But an account of that visit must await the next episode of “The Travels of Chuck & Barb”.

Visit to our old stomping grounds — Savannah, GA; Oct. 22 – Nov. 1, 2015

We flew out from Bismarck, ND on October 22, but the flight certainly wasn’t direct.  First to Minneapolis, then to New York, and finally to Savannah, GA.  Why Savannah?  For our annual visit to relatives, friends and doctors.  Initially we focused on daughter Danielle and grandkids Abbie and Kristen, using a rental car to move back and forth from Savannah to Rincon, GA.  Later, we succumbed to Iris Dayoub’s offer and used her auto, and yet later caved to her insistence that we stay with her and Mike out at their lovely home on Modena Island, just north of the famous Landings development on Skidaway Island.

We had lunch one day with Chuck’s former colleague Joy Reed, who had just retired from the Department of Computer Science at Armstrong Atlantic State University.  And on another day lunch with Dick Munson (and his wife Karen) who retired from the Mathematics department a few years before I retired from the CS department in 2005.

Savannah College of Art & Design was hosting another of it’s annual film festivals during our visit.  Some of our doctor appointments got in the way, but we still managed to see five different films.  SCAD’s presence in Savannah has been a tremendous boon for the city; the downtown is now vital and bustling.

With our doctor visits out of the way, we had a second round of socializing with Danielle and the girls, who suggested that we spend some time poking around our former neighborhood south of Savannah near Richmond Hill.  We drove by our old home and were pleased to see that it looked in better shape than on former quick visits.  So we stopped and asked for permission to visit the back yard where our dock gave deepwater access to the Ogeechee River.  The couple we had sold our house to had never moved in; a divorce and the collapse of the real estate market which prevented them from selling their other homes was the cause.  So the house was sometimes rented, and a subsequent lack of TLC now had us visiting with some apprehension.  We learned from the current tenants that the house was recently sold, but the current owners live elsewhere and plan on moving in later upon retirement.  Meanwhile the combination of new owners and enthusiastic renters has spiffed the place up a bit.

We also revisited historic Fort McAllister, situated just a mile and a half from our former home.  The earthen fort held for almost all of the Civil War but finally fell to Sherman’s forces attacking from the land side.

We have been using a storage facility for all of the ten years since selling the house.  Long ago we could have already re-purchased its entire contents for less than the storage rental has cummulatively cost.  So we have finally resolved to stop the madness.  I sold my “like new” road bike.  We gave lingering lawn furniture to friends, and gave Danielle and Kristen the china, bunches of kitchen stuff and many prints and paintings.  But we ran out of time after this modest beginning.  Maybe next year we can free ourselves from this silly expense.  (Implicit in this discussion is the fact that neither Barb nor I have any intention of ceasing to cruise in the Caribbean any time soon.  Sorry Mom.)

 

 

Third Time is a Charm — Back to Bismarck, October 11-22, 2015

As mentioned in our last post, the wind was howling when we arrived back in Bismarck.  The camper was parked back up on the hill behind sister Zona’s home. so we were fully exposed to the buffeting gusts throughout the night.  Next morning the news accounts quantified the extent of our noisy and jerky experience:  65 mph.  There followed a few days of relatively cool weather, after which a glorious “Indian summer” resumed.

Before the nice weather had returned, while it was still cool (more appropriately described as “cold”, in the opinion of Barb and I, with our Caribbean-conditioned thin blood) Bismarck hosted a surprising festival in the park adjacent to the zoo.  (The same zoo, by the way, where a moose had been killed by a falling branch during the afore-mentioned wind storm, the day before it was scheduled to be transferred to Minnesota.)  The festival?  A food truck festival.  Food trucks must be a relatively new phenomenon in Bismarck, because, cool/cold weather be damned, the place was packed.

We packed a lot into our third visit.  Barb and Mom and I went to the North Dakota Heritage Center, adjacent to the State Capital Building.  Its enlargement/enhancement/remodel is completed, and it is now spectacular.  There are major exhibit rooms dedicated to fossils found in North Dakota.  And a large exhibit about the many Native American tribes in the general area.  Another about the early white settlers. And yes, one about the current oil boom taking place in the western part of the state.

Zona’s oldest daughter Susan and her husband John (and their children Mattie & Oliver) arrived from Minneapolis to do some duck and pheasant hunting, so we got to visit with them during evenings.  Zona’s Bismarck-based daughter, Cathy (and her husband Jon and children Katie & Cole) popped in a number of times.  Zona’s brother-in-law Floyd and his wife Sheila also visited multiple times.  By popular request I hosted a multi-pot low country boil for Cathy and her family, Floyd & Sheila, Marvin & Violet Bodvig, Dawn & Jerry Renner, and of course Mom & Zona & Barb & me.  What is in a low-country boil, some of you may be asking.  Potatoes & onions & ring sausage & carrots & corn on the cob & shrimp & a massive amount of Old Bay seasoning, all boiled together but added to the pot at appropriate times for proper cooking, served with home-made cocktail sauce made of catsup and horse radish & worcestershire sauce & lemon juice.

Zona has a cabin on Lake Isabelle, some 50 miles east of Bismarck.  In addition to a garden and apple trees, there are grape vines on her property.  This year Cathy and Jon took responsibility for the harvest, which meant that they had first dibs on deciding what to do with the bounty.  Cathy chose wine.  So one afternoon Zona & Cathy & Mom and Floyd & Sheila & Barb & I all met at a local vintner to deliver the grapes and to decide on what style of wine to order.  Tasting ensued.  Cathy made the final decision.  Tune in next year to learn how it all turned out.

A few days before we left Bismarck, we took the camper out to Tappen, ND, where friend Marvin Bodvig runs a farm supply dealership.  Marvin graciously consented to storing our camper (and several others) until we return in late June, 2016.  As you can see in the photo, below, he also stores his small airplane there.

Tune in next time to learn about our next visit, to Savannah, GA.

Barb’s Hometown — Carrington, ND; October 9-11, 2015

When we left the Grand Forks area, we motored west through Devil’s Lake (and a little south) about 100 miles to the small (population 2,075) agricultural town of Carrington, where Barb had gone to school while living on a nearby farm.  Out of 12 children, Barb’s brother Tim is the only one of her siblings still living in the state.  Tim has three  energetic, industrious and admirable sons who have also remained: Tyler, Preston & Austen.  In every sense, the apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree.

We parked our camper in the municipal campground, a pleasant enclave in an attractive park adjacent to the main highway that bisects the town.  Tim and his sons joined us for dinner (called supper in this part of the world) on the camper one evening.  On another night, we heard loudspeaker and crowd noises.  When we went out to investigate, we realized that the city park was adjacent to the Carrington High athletic field, and that a football game was underway.  Barb is a former cheerleader for the Cardinals, so of course we had to bundle up — it was cold — and go see a bit of the game.  There were no cheerleaders to be seen.  Barb asked a bystander, and learned that there had not been cheerleaders for the high school for many many years.  Guess things have a way of changing.

It took us two attempts, but Barb and I finally succeeded in getting to the Chieftain Cafe early enough to order their famous caramel rolls to supplement our breakfast.  Standing outside the cafe is a Muffler Man, in this case a Native American.  (Follow the links to learn more.)

Barb visited one of her aunts while we were there but that was about all we had time to do.  We had planned to go out to visit Tim’s cabin at Lake Juanita and to spend more time with Tim, but on Sunday morning we learned that a big windstorm was going to hit the area later in the day.  So we cut our visit short and almost made it back to Bismarck before the wind hit. The wind was only 30 to 40 mph that afternoon but in the 60s that night, during which our camper was doing some not-so-restful rocking and rolling.

See our next blog for an account of our third 2015 visit to Bismarck.

Red River Valley of the North — Grand Forks & Grandin, ND; October 6-9, 2015

After we left Sisseton, Barb and I headed north to Hillsboro, where we camped in the city campground. We were between Fargo & Grand Forks, in the heart of the Red River Valley, the incredibly flat and fertile area that owes its thick topsoil to silt laid down by Paleogeographic Lake Agassiz. The campground was crowded with workers for the sugar beet harvest.  We had called ahead, and had been told that there was lots of room.  But when we arrived, all but one drive-through spots were occupied.  Apparently the person with whom Barb spoke had forgotten that the sugar beet harvest was just getting underway.  We learned that the beet harvest is a frantic affair that must be completed in a very short time.  Consequently, the effort requires many extra workers, most of whom are employed driving trucks filled with beets to storage facilities.  Where do these extra workers stay?  In their campers in the campgrounds.

Next day, we drove our dinghy back south a bit to visit the farm, near Grandin, ND, of Barb’s cousin Geri Peterson (and her husband Dennis), where we had a scrumptious lunch and then a tour of the farm and machinery, including rides on a combine for each of us, harvesting corn, and including a drive to see some of the Peterson’s land. During the ride we saw a new colony of Hutterites just forming.  And we learned that many farmers in the area are burying tile pipes under the soil in order to flush away salts that have accumulated over the years.  Pipes in fields adjacent to ditches just drain into the ditches; other fields require sump pumps.  The cost of such installations is some indication of the productivity of the farmland in the Red River Valley.  The size and complexity of modern machinery on the farm was mind-blowing to Barb and I, who grew up and left farms, um, a few years ago.

On the 9th we moved up to the Grand Forks area, where we camped in the Sherlock park campground of the Red River State Recreation Area in East Grand Forks, MN.  The Recreation Area  was created in the wake of the flood of 1997 that devastated the communities of East Grand Forks, MN and Grand Forks, ND.  Various structures and over 500 homes were removed and the land — now a 1,200-acre greenway — became a state recreation area.  Near the park is Whitey’s, a reconstruction of the famous bar and restaurant in East Grand Forks, an establishment that I and my fraternity brothers at the University of North Dakota used to frequent on Sundays since we could get a beer there (with a meal and by using our fake IDs) because Minnesota’s laws were more lenient than North Dakota’s.  East Grand Forks was also where my first wife and I lived after we married during our senior year in college.  The apartment building was nowhere to be found; it was probably also destroyed in the flood.

Barb and I drove into Grand Forks to visit my undergraduate alma mater.  We had trouble finding parking, so our visit was shortened to the 30-minute limit imposed in front of the impressive student union. Too bad; I had intended on stopping by the development office and leaving a substantial endowment.  🙂

Back to my roots — Sisseton, SD area; September 28 – October 5, 2015

When we left the Minneapolis area our destination was Sisseton, in Roberts County, in the extreme northeastern corner of South Dakota.  “Sisseton” is an anglicization of the Dakota Indian words “Sinsin Tunwan” (also rendered as “Sissetowan”), which means “Swamp Village”.  Sisseton is the largest town in the Lake Traverse Reservation, homeland of the Sisseton Wahpeton Oyate, a branch of the Santee Dakota group of Native Americans.  The Shipleys used to live about 10 miles south of Sisseton on what was (and still is) called the “Valley Ranch”.  Dad was the foreman there and the mechanic for all of a set of farms and ranches owned by A.W. Powell, the president of a Sisseton bank. My sister Zona and I attended a one-room country grade-school about two miles from our farm (and of course we had to walk uphill both ways whenever the weather was less than a full-scale blizzard.) Valley Ranch was just below a range of hills (the Coteau des Prairies) that had been laid down by receding glaciers in the ice age.  Up on the ridge of the hills, about a mile from our former home, is the grave site of Gabriel Renville (1824–1892), the last chief of the Sissetowan and Wahpetowan.  I spent much of my childhood playing with the direct descendants of Chief Renville.  Later, I drove a Model A Ford about 10 miles north to Sisseton for my freshman year of high school, and then we all moved to Romulus, MI for two years before returning to the prairie states to Jamestown, ND in time for my senior year.

So there was a reason to stop at Sisseton with our camper.  We settled in to the only campground in the immediate area (Camp Dakotah), and were joined the next day by Mom and Zona.  We had all long talked about visiting the old stomping grounds, and now we were making it happen!

Mom and Zona had made some phone calls that enabled us to get together for a number of conversations with contemporaries of Mom and with childhood friends of Zona and I. Coffee with Luella George and her son Donald (and his wife Linda).  Breakfast with Luella’s son Phillip and daughter Shannon and with friend Calvin Hove and his wife.  A visit to an assisted-living facility to see Phyllis Karst, where we were joined by her daughter Judy Karst Nelson and son Paul Karst.  And another visit to see my folks’ friend Milton Leiseth, whose wife Jeanne, now deceased, had taught Zona and I in the one-room school.  The visits were as enjoyable as we had expected and we all came away congratulating ourselves for finally making it happen.

The four of us also visited the old farm, which still bears the name “Valley Ranch”.  As we stopped at the beginning of the long driveway to photograph the arch over the cattle guard, the new owner, Calvin Finnesand, happened by on a 4-wheeler on his way to check his cattle.  He gladly gave us permission to poke around the grounds where we used to live.  We already knew that there had been many changes, but were anxious to see if we could find the site of our former home.  We knew that part of the house had been moved away and converted into a granary, and that the attached addition (formerly Mom & Dad’s bedroom) had been retained on the ranch but moved and converted to a bunkhouse.  All of the former barns had long ago collapsed. The bridge that had formerly crossed the adjacent creek had also mostly collapsed, and a huge tree had grown up right in the middle of the approach.  All of which were initially surprising and distressing, until we remembered that we had been gone for over 55 years.  It took a while, but we had a small victory in finding the foundation of our former home.

We all took a trip in to Peever, SD, the little town east of the Valley Ranch, where the Shipley family had originally gone in to shop on Saturday nights.  The association of Peever and Shipleys was long-standing:  Mom and her siblings went to school there.  For a time in my childhood, the Chamber of Commerce of Peever had paid Dad to show free movies on summer Saturday nights.  Several sheets sewn together served as the screen, and Dad had speakers and a projector capable of showing films of commercial format.  But he only had one projector, so every 20 minutes there was a pause while he changed the reel.  Folks pulled their cars onto the vacant lot and watched from the comfort of their vehicles, or while sitting on blankets on the ground.  Afterwards, many bought groceries at one of two small stores.  And we almost always stopped at the Hanson cafe for coffee and pie or a cheeseburger and malted milk.  The grocery stores are long gone, as is the cafe.  As is the Lang general store that used to be across from the cafe.  The schools are all gone; students are now bussed into Sisseton.  The only occupied commercial buildings remaining are a liquor store and the Post Office, and the latter is scheduled to be closed.  Remarkably, the two poles that supported Dad’s movie screen are still there!

We all also took a drive north and west of Sisseton, where we visited Sica Hollow.  “Sica” means “bad” in the Dakota Indian language; did I mention that I grew up on the Sisseton/Wahpeton Oyate Reservation? The state park has a number of horse trails and a few campsites that seemed to be largely intended for hosting folks who have brought in horses on trailers.  And then we stopped at the relatively new Nicollet tower, built at the initiative of Harold L. Torness, a banker and lifelong resident of Sisseton and the successor and son-in-law of A.W. Powell.  Torness was so fascinated by the book “Joseph N. Nicollet on the Plains and Prairies: The Expeditions of 1838-39 with Journals, Letters, and Notes on the Dakota Indians” that he spearheaded a $335-thousand fund-raising campaign to build a monument to the explorer. In a breathtaking view from the top of the tower, visitors can see the states of South Dakota, North Dakota, and Minnesota, six counties, 11 communities and the Continental Divide. An adjacent 2,400-square-foot interpretive center has displays and classroom space.

After Mom and Zona had returned to Bismarck, Barb and I went on several other expeditions.  We went east and south to the village of Browns Valley, located on the southern-most end of Traverse, a long narrow lake on the border of South Dakota and Minnesota that transformed from a north-flowing river to a lake when it was blocked by glaciers in the ice age.  Another trip was to the south and west of Sisseton to Lake Enemy Swim, where the Shipleys used to go to swim and picnic 60 years ago.  We stopped at Waubay National Wildlife Refuge where we climbed a fire watchtower.   Closer to Sisseton, we stopped to see the Buffalo Lake Church, an old “Norwegian” Lutheran church that had been mentioned by the proprietress Marsha of our campground.  Marsha, incidentally, also told me that as a child her family used to go to Dad’s movies in Peever.  On the way back to Sisseton from the Buffalo Lake Church, we drove down a gravel road past a field filled with — are you ready for this? — a huge herd of bison!

When at last we left Sisseton, we drove northward to visit a cousin of Barb near Grandin, North Dakota.  Tune in next time.

Niece & Nephew — Minneapolis Area; September 25-28, 2015

On September 25 we arrived in the Minneapolis area.  Specifically, at the Carver Park, near Victoria, Minnesota.  The Park is huge and multipurpose — we settled into the Auburn Lake Campground, a lovely place that was packed with families in small campers and/or tents on Saturday, but was nearly deserted by Sunday afternoon.  The only drawback of the place, from our point of view, was a lack of pull-through and power/water/sewer-equipped sites. No pull-through meant we had to un-attach the dinghy (and back the camper into the site), but no matter, we needed to set the dinghy free anyway since we drove into Minneapolis the next day to do a little shopping.  Came home with some groceries and some indulgences:  a new iPad for Barb and a new MacbookPro for me.  On the 27th we drove a few miles into Victoria to the new home of Erik & Cindy and their children Sophie & Evan.  (Erik is Chuck’s sister Zona’s son.)  We had a marvelous dinner and visit with them and then returned to the camper.  Right behind us were Erik & Cindy.  The goal was to build a campfire and to continue our visit while consuming adult beverages and eating s’mores — objectives met in fine style.

Next day we motored back into Minneapolis proper and met Jessica and her daughter Lily for lunch. (Jessica’s hubby Peter was out of town.)  Jessica is Zona’s daughter.  It was our first opportunity to meet the cute-as-a-button Lily, and our first chance in a long time to get caught up with Jessica,  A circumstance we appreciated and enjoyed.  Alas, Jessica had afternoon commitments, so our reunion was all too brief.

That evening, with some sense of anticipation, we readied ourselves for observing the much ballyhooed lunar eclipse.  Handicapped by the lack of a tripod, we improvised with a pillow-cushioned box set upon a picnic table carefully chosen from among the empty camping sites to give open visibility in the right direction and angle.  It mostly worked, with a few episodes of frantically dragging the heavy table out of the shadow of a tree and back into the diminishing moonlight.  I had hoped to get pictures of the moon disappearing and then re-appearing.   Alas, although the evening had started out with clear skies, just as the eclipse neared totality a band of clouds moved in and obscured the spectacle.  Nothing to do but pack up and count my blessings.  Which I did and do.  Thanks for the experience, and for the beloved mate with which to share it.

Visiting the Ringens — McFarland Lake, Minnesota – September 18-24, 2015

After our second visit to Bismarck, we took the camper to the extreme northeast corner of Minnesota to visit friends Jon and Cathie.  (As mentioned in a previous post, we stopped along the way at Valley City to visit Lynne & Steve.)  The Ringen’s cabin is on a hill overlooking McFarland Lake.  What a view.  We went on several nice hikes, one of which began with a prolonged bushwhack through the forest behind their cabin.  Despite some skepticism on the part of the distaff participants, we found the hiking path just about where we expected to.

Jon and I attempted to start the larger of his two boats, but didn’t succeed.  So we used the smaller one to pull the larger one away from the public dock and to the Ringen’s dock.  On another day we all took the smaller one on a tour of the scenic lake.

We ate like royalty during the visit, with grilled pork loin and coq a vin and turkey and pizza and homemade ice-cream.  We spent a lot of time just relaxing and talking.  We played Mexican Train dominoes, which provided me an opportunity to extend my string of humiliating defeats.

We had gorgeous weather for almost all of the visit.  On the eve of our departure it rained, which meant that our return down 17 miles of gravel road to Hovland was, um, soupy.  When we stopped at Grand Marais to hook our “dinghy” back to the camper, we discovered that the retractable stairs, below the door of the camper, didn’t retract so well any more.  We scraped off as much as we could, and used a little water to attempt to clear the joints of the mechanism, but concluded that a visit to a repair shop would be needed.  (This conclusion was strengthened by Barb’s fear that the steps had been damaged on the way up to the Ringens when I hit and sent into the ditch a plastic traffic cone at a highway construction site.)  Fortunately, a more-thorough cleaning job at a camp ground that night resulted in a return to full function.

Our ultimate destination, as we traveled south, was the Twin Cities area.  But our account of that visit will await the next edition of the post.  Until then, watch out for traffic cones.