last camping of the year

The kids love Minnesota's North Shore, and it's easy to see why. The shoreline is a rugged expression of erosion and water. Waterfalls can be found every few miles out of Duluth all the way up to the Canadian border. We have already camped and explored Gooseberry Falls (twice) and Tettegouche, for this trip I decided to go farther north to Cascade Rive State Park. It's about seven miles from Grand Marais and another forty or so to Canada.

Our arrival mimicked several of our last camping trips; the afternoon was damp, cool, and threatening rain. So, before exploration we set up the campsite. The kids are becoming quite adept at putting up the tent and arranging sleeping bags and pads while I set up the kitchen. There is an occasional bit of yelling as Galen directs Liam, but it usually works out.

At the edge of the tent pad was a small fairy castle/stick structure from a previous visitor. Galen took it upon himself to rebuild it and enlarge. One cannot let a fairy castle be left unkempt...

After the tent was up and a cursory fix to the fairy castle we were off to the lake. The afternoon clouds and wind were bound to make the lake a bit menacing, we were not disappointed. Everything was wet, waves were crashing, thankfully they were small. It was easy to see how Mother Nature makes sand and river stones. The waves crashed over and over, water pushed back-n-forth, rocks moved and struck up against one another. At times the kids were mesmerized and simply watch the activity.

That night's campfire was welcomed, and so was dinner. Waves could occasionally be heard as we drifted off to sleep.

The next was was time for river and waterfall exploration. And for this, I must digress. The day before, my billy-goat children bounded across the wet shoreline. Sometimes they slipped, sometimes they jumped, and quite often got wet. But that was playing not more than a couple of feet above the water. The crashing waves, the possibility of rip current had my watching their moves. Now, while on our river exploration, they were standing on cliff edge of wet polished rock at times fifty feet above a roaring river. It seems I can't take them camping without getting my heart racing from one thing or another...

We survived, I survived. There were no slips or falls - at least towards the river gorge. As for riverside and along the forest paths.....

All told, this was an excellent place to spend the last camping trip of the summer. We ate campfire food, ate s'mores, gazed upon natural beauty, and gazed upon stars. Goodbye summer, may fall and winter be as beautiful.

view photos here

Eclipse

I am a sucker for celestial events. There was a Sunday night many decades ago that had Randy and me driving from Temecula, to Mount Palomar, down to the Salton Sea, and finally back to Temecula to get a glimpse of a meteor shower. Our respective partners weren't so enthused, especially with the return home just in time to get ready for work. Clouds were our nemesis. Seems that the entirety of southern California was covered and no meteors were to be seen.

My attempt to have the kids witness the great eclipse of  2017 was almost, but not quite, as shrouded. The weather report leading up to the event was bothersome. Seems that a large portion of the midwest was going to have some cloud cover. There was the possibility of opening through the clouds, but one just couldn't predict these things. This trip too, was defined by clouds plus some rain, lightning and thunder.

We left for Rosecrans Airport at St. Joseph, MO the day before. What should of been a six hour trip took over seven and there wasn't even traffic, just construction. That was warning number one. We arrived on a sweltering Sunday afternoon. We suffered through the afternoon, fixed dinner, walked about the other campers and hit the sleeping bags for the evening among the other eclipse hopefuls.

We woke up to a cool, cloudy morning. I thought this might be the day my kids would begin drinking coffee. But nope, hot chocolate was the drink of choice.

I brought along eclipse glasses and some cardboard parts to build a pinhole viewer. After waking up Galen proceeded to constructive the viewer for the big event.

The news was reporting storms and clouds throughout the day, not good for eclipse viewing. Hmmm. But there wasn't anywhere to go. If we had headed way out west two days before, fine. But on the day of the celestial line up, we were where we were gonna be.

Initial contact was not to be seen. It wasn't until about 10% coverage did the clouds thin out for viewing. At this pointy we didn't need the eclipse-glasses. With them, one saw nothing. Without them, one could easily view a shiny object being consumed by the moon. Way cool. The sun peaked in and out of the clouds several times, each showing a bit more black.

This repeated off and on up to the totality. We missed the diamond ring and the initial plunge into darkness. At least from direct viewing, but of course it still got dark. The ring of sunset around the site was eerie and beautiful. The sunset to the north and south was colorful. But to the east and west, inline with the cloud front, it was simply dark.

And then the clouds thinned. There it was, the ring of fire, we could view the eclipse. We were one of about 700 campers, and another 15,000 viewers around the airport. When the ring of fire popped through the clouds the entire crowd erupt in a cheer. I got goosebumps.

Galen flittered about like a butterfly cycling between laughing and shouting. Liam walked about and looked up - smiling. They both stated it was fun, cool, and worth the trip. As the days and months pass, I hope to probe their memories. We'll see if I created any eclipse chasers.

For myself, I do not recollect much of the experience. It was disappointing, yet it wasn't. The event was a reminder of our insignificance. It was a majestic reminder of physics that drive the universe and our existence. And it was beautiful.

We streamed out of the airport and joined thousands of drivers flooding the freeway. The six hour drive that took seven the day before, took us over ten and one half to get home. But for the immensity of the traffic, it was calm. There wasn't honking, rude shuffles to get a spot, and I saw no accidents. The awe and calm of the eclipse carried over to the drive home.

view the photos here

canoe and tower

St. Croix State Park is Minnesota's largest state park, but you wouldn't know it during our visit. The main campground have almost 300 spots, during our stay there were maybe seven or eight in the tent section and another five in the RV. It was quiet, beautifully so.

Our first afternoon was limited, set-up the site and do some hiking. We walked along the St. Croix River, visited the education center, and walked down to an old C.C.C. site. While we were out & about we came across an older gentlemen driving an electric scooter yelling for help. He had run out of battery during his trail-trip'n and needed to get back to his camper & electrical supply. We pushed a bit, he'd try his battery and get another 20 feet, repeat, repeat, repeat. When we got to his camper he treated us to his pics from his trip to the Serengeti and Ngorongoro Conservation Area in Africa.

Add another place to the wish list.

The primary reason I took us to this state park was the canoeing. Turns out the state park's canoe services are closed Monday through Wednesday. Damn. But just outside and across the river in Danbury, WI is a canoe service. They took us upriver a few miles and we lackadaisically floated down to the take-out point. The St. Croix river is not damned and, because of it's lack of industry, not polluted. It is a great river to canoe and has multiple canoe camp sites. The kids liked this portion of our trip.

The park also has a one hundred foot fire tower. We visited twice, once in the morning and again that same day for sunset. The morning view was surreal, the distant forest falling in and out of view as the fog shifted about. The evening was clearer, but the sunrise was hidden by clouds. Both times I was nervous of the indifference shown by my children to steep staircase. One would think they were oblivious to the danger posed by a trip or stumble.

Our visit was peaceful. The days were damp, cloudy, and without bugs. The evenings were cool, mostly clear and filled with stars. I want to return and canoe some more of the river. We'll see, for now it is a pleasant memory.