Last three East Coast Roadtripping memories

Here are three more tales from our summer trip that I think bear repeating.

AT Thru Hiker
On our way to Boston, we listned to a CD of Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods" about his experiences on the Appalacian Trail. Mostly it was entertaining for the whole family, although next time we will try to time it so that the part about the bears in campgrounds will not be playing as we pull into a campground in the dark, in the rain, and are greeted by the sign "WARNING: Bear activity last night!".  Or atleast we will hit pause before Bill gets into a history of bear maulings in the Eastern United States.  None of us slept overly well that evening. 

Other than that, the book was quite entertaining, and on the day (after the sleepless bear-fearing night) that we were going to hike a little on the AT, we were all kind of hoping that we'd run into a thru hiker.  Bryson had made his encounters with this unique breed of hiker seem so colorful and exciting, we wanted a piece of that action.

We got our wish.  After hiking up a lovely river for about an hour, we were just about to turn around when a man called to us from the river's other bank.  Wanted to know if we were on the AT.  We weren't quite there, but we knew where the paths connected.  He dashed across the stream to have a look at our map with Jon.  The boys and I stayed around a bend, chatting.  I admit, I was a little nervous when neither Jon nor the man appeared for a while.  But then Jon joined us, and so did the stranger.  Even though the AT was further up the trail, he had decided to walk down the way were going in hopes of finding a ride to town for some breakfast.  A ha!  We had heard about this from Bryson.  Here it was, happening to us.  Only we weren't going to the town he was aiming for, which brought us all much relief, as he had not showered for awhile. 

The hike down was entertaining indeed.  Despite his large pack, he was more than able to keep up with us and had enough breath to spare to tell us some tales.  This man had been in the woods for months and was not entirely 'politically correct'.  When he told us that he knew he was getting close to a trailhead parking lot when he found 'fat people' on the path, the boys looked at me with startled eyes.  Were we the fat people he spoke of?  I mean, we had been sitting in a car for days, eating not well, but fat?  Not yet.  Then we got closer to the trail head and came amongst larger groups of people out for short hikes.  Larger in numbers and size.  Our new pal appraised the 'hikers' around us, chortled and said loudly, "Now we are getting really really close!!".  Theo had to turn away and giggle to himself.   Once at the parking lot, our friend kept talking, and talking and talking.  Stories about staying in people's houses, getting rides, and about the general friendliness of strangers.  Clearly he was hinting.  Kept saying "I haven't gotten killed yet!" as he looked longingly at the car keys in Jon's hands.  We made it a point of talking loudly about how we were going to go squeeze into our little sedan and drive off in the opposite direction that he had said he wanted to go.  Then another story would start.  Eventually we made our get away.

Once in the car, one of the boys said, "Do you suppose that he hasn't been killed yet because maybe he's been doing the killing?"  I don't think so, but I'm glad we didn't find out, one way or the other.

TIPI!
One night we camped at a lovely state park in Vermont.  After setting up our tent, Eli went off to the bathroom.  When he came back, his eyes were large, and he stage whispered, "There's a man setting up a tipi next door."  Hmmm.  Shortly I had to go to the bathroom.  Sure enough, in the spot next door, there was a man setting up a tipi.  Looks like he had brought his lodge poles on a rack on top of their pickup.  He was utilizing a large ladder to put on the finishing touches.  I always go camping with a ladder, myself.  On my way back from the bathroom I had to chuckle.  The tipi was up, the man, who earlier had looked like he had stepped out of LL Bean had ducked into the tipi and changed into a loin cloth.  That's right.  Took off his shirt too.  Had some leather strap tied around a bicep and some sort of leather pouch around his next.   Then he walked over, started up his GENERATOR and pumped up his deluxe queen sized air mattress. 

I returned to our site to give an update.  A little later Eli started stage whispering again.  "RIGHT THERE.  Look!  He's coming....coming- look over behind you mom!"  All of this was plenty loud for both me and the coming attraction to here.  But I think he liked it.  He was out for an evening stroll.  He seemed to have family with him, a wife and maybe two grown children.  But they were hanging back, and dressed in street clothes.  He was strutting out ahead in the loin cloth.  He took several laps around the campground, surely giving everyone a chance to see him.

Walden Pond
One day during our Boston stay we decided to head out to Lexington and Concord.  We stopped at several different historical sites and all of us found all of them quite interesting.  But strangely sapping of all energy.  Museum fatique to an expotential power.  So we decided to try to find Walden Pond on our way back to town, as we heard you could swim there.  Now, I've read the book by Thoreau and I always pictured it as a small pond.  Filled with reeds and brackish water, like the pond behind the house I grew up in.  Color us surprised when we pulled into a large parking lot across from a lake.  We stopped in the replica of his small cabin and read some historical data, but I was already fatiqued, and this lake had me chagining my opinion of the whole deal.  Thoreau was basically vacationing next to a lovely lake.  Now, his cabin was small, and he built it himself, but seriously, this was not what I had expected.  I was much more eager to swim now that pond had been redefined as lake.

So we passed a hot afternoon doing some water ballet and then trying to dunk each other in Walden Pond.  I'm not sure that's how Thoreau passed his days there, but I'd recommend it!

One last note

Niagara falls did not dissapoint.  Either in the shlock factor of the surrounding town, or in the majesty of the falls themselves.

School dance

A couple of weeks ago, Eli had his first school dance.  I like that they eased the kids into it by having it during the day, and offering a movie down the hall, in case the dance proved too overwhelming.  Eli's 'crew' (homeroom on steroids) practiced for the dance by learning the electric slide.   The crew is a very safe space, I can tell because Eli learned the electric slide.  Kind of.  There's work to be done, but I can tell he was on his feet and trying, in front of others, which is lovely.

The day of the dance came and Eli showed uncharacteristic care in choosing his clothes that morning at 6am.  It was a 'Sadie Hawkins' theme and Eli could not remember if he was supposed to wear plaid or flannel.  I suggested a plaid flannel and he was grateful.  I thought his cute plaid shirt was a better idea, as the plaid flannel we had was Theo's and a touch short, but he wanted to cover his bases, if not his forearms.

I asked him if he was going to ask anyone to dance, and he said he could not.  It was Sadie Hawkins, and the girls were in charge.  Of course they were.  Smart girls.

The dance was the last two hours of the school day.  I admit I was very curious to hear how it had gone.  He came in the door from the bus, put down his bag, and said, "Well, I got asked to the dance."  A quick shy smile was flashed my way before he started rummaging for snacks.  Then:  "I am exhausted!".  No doubt.  I asked him to show me how he danced, but he wasn't game for that.  I was just doing some anthropological research.  Wanted to know if they still did the shoulder shuffle like we did in junior high- reaching out and touching our partners lightly on the shoulders, while keeping arms unbent so as to maximize the distance between you and your 'date'.  I demonstrated, but he gave me nothing. 

For the record, I asked him how a student would feel if he or she wanted to ask someone of the same gender, given the Sadie Hawkins theme.  Seemed a to lean heavily hetero to me.  He said, "It'd be fine mom.  No one would get teased.  Open school is not like that."  Phew.

We are the survivors

After driving for many many hours through this country's midwest, we pulled into Waterloo, Iowa last Sunday afternoon to try to find some lunch.  We got of the freeway and drove into the downtown area.  When the car stopped, the boys looked up from their devices, dazed.  But we herded them out the door and up to the Subway.  Which was locked.  Closed.  We tried another restaurant nearby.  Also closed. Theo then looked up and down the deserted street and then said, "It appears as if we may be the only survivors of the apocolypse."  Then he got back in the car and plugged back into his ipod, unconcerned.

Paddle boarding with manta rays

One of the highlights of our recent trip to Florida was of course spending time with my parents.  And a lovely Thanksgiving dinner that was many many many steps up from the last Thanksgiving I shared with them in Florida, which featured Ramen noodles and a frozen pizza. 

I also enjoyed the day we rented paddle boards.  I was worried that my raw skin from the recent bike accident would keep me grounded for the day, but we wrapped me up in some very expensive bandages that looked and worked much like saran wrap.  And I was able to keep upright on the board, so never had to test the waterproof nature of the goods.  Jean and I headed out on the boards and made it all the way down to the jetty.  On the way there we saw a fish or two, but nothing much.  At the jetty we took a seat on the boards to rest (our feet were sore from working so hard to keep us balanced- who knew there were so many feet muscles and that they could get so fatigued!) and were entertained by small schools of beautiful fish.  On the way back I cruised right over a mini jelly fish, which got me quite excited- they are oddly beautiful- and nervous that I would fall on it and get all stung up.  But I stayed upright.  We paddled back without incident. 

Jon and Theo headed out next.  While they were down the beach looking the other way, some dolphins happened by.  Jean ran down to make sure they saw them and ended up paddling Theo out to get a closer view.  Theo lying on the front of the board while my mom paddled him toward dolphins was quite a lovely site- the two of them so engaged in their quest.  They got quite close.  I got jealous.  I love watching dolphins and squealed loudly and touristically every time they went by my parents' condo. 

Once the dophins swam off, Theo and Jon turned the boards over to Eli and my dad.  I won't say much about how it went for my dad.  I think he was nervous about see-sickness, so he threw in the towel pretty quickly.  This gave me the opportunity to head out and accompany Eli.  We didn't encounter dolphins, but we did paddle right above a small herd of manta rays.  I'm sure it's herds they travel in.  There were four, and they seemed quite intrigued by us.  They did not dart away, but came closer, went under us, circled.  The whole time I was nervous about falling on them, and was hoping my mom's assertion that these were not the stinging kind was true.  Never can tell with her as she doesn't believe in citing sources.  Ever.  But we didn't fall- we just watched from above as these graceful creatures glided around below us.  Quite lovely.

Bragging Rights

I just got back from the dentist where I was given a temporary cap for my missing tooth.  This makes going back into my classroom tomorrow a bit easier.  I will still have to deal with the heckling about my greenish yellowish cheek and my bruised chin that looks like I am trying to grow a small, off-centered, goatee.  These kids tease nicely however.  I know that because they recently found out about my treadmill wipeout and have been amused, but not mean. 

But at the dentist, we shared a laugh- the dentist, the hygenist, and I.  He had recently re-capped my husband's tooth. The hygenist asked how Jon had broken his.  Eating a baguette.  Hello lame story!  Mine involves a bike crash.  If I want to get dramatic I could tell you about the oncoming semi and how I was braking to avoid a collision.

If I wanted to be less dramatic I could tell you that I was biking back from Walmart with my mom.  Where we had journeyed because I wanted some chips with dinner.  And some wine.  Both survived the crash, by the way.  And that semi was not very close, although in truth I was braking to avoid hitting it, just that the only reason I would have hit it was if I would have randomly crossed the street.

And, I suppose, truth be told, Jon's baguette break was of his already fake tooth.  That tooth had originally been broken doing something else.  The details of which I am choosing to forget. 

Lesson learned

I'm going to start right out with the lesson learned in case no one wants to read to the end of this tale.

When biking, if a bug flies into your mouth, just accept it.  Swallow gracefully and continue on with your ride. 

No one had taught me this, so when it happened last week while I was visiting my parents in Florida, I fought it.  I grabbed a water bottle, I drank, I coughed, I pounded on my chest.  All while biking.  On my dad's bike.  That has finely tuned brakes.  Unlike my own.  So when my mom slowed down to take a left, I reached with my left hand and tapped the brakes.  Stopped dead.  Or the bike did.  I continued on at much the same speed as I had been previously travelling and flew for a second.  Then I landed.  Hard.  On my face.  I remember my head bouncing a few times and feeling how nicely my skull was protected by my dad's helmet.  But that helmet didn't cover my face, or my arms, or hands, or any other part that came in contact with the asphalt. 

In the end I lost a large strip of skin on one arm (which my boys have taken to calling 'the bacon strip' and I do agree it looks a lot like that savory breakfast treat), knuckles, elbows, and knees were scraped, my chin and cheek on the right side of my face were nicely bruised, and I lost a tooth.  All over trying to expel on damn little bug.  Which I ended up eating anyway.  Or at least I think I did.  It may have flown back out upon impact, right alongside my tooth, but I'll never now.

Here's what I do know:

• I will now definitely never pursue that career in Mixed Martial Arts I was thinking about.  My face still hurts, one week later- and I was only 'punched' once.  Can't imagine doing something like that for a living.
• It's nice to have a mom who always travels with a mini-pharmacy.  She set me up real nicely with some pain killers to help me through the next few days.
• It's a good idea to put out the money for the serious bandages.  Now that I have that on my arm, I hardly think about the bacon strip. 
• I think less about the bacon strip now that I'm back in MN and wearing long sleeves. 
• Knocking out teeth is a serious business.
• If you are pulled over by a cop in Alabama for speeding, turn your face to show your bruises and missing tooth.  He may show you sympathy and only give you a warning, despite your excessive speed.
• If the face doesn't melt his heart, tell him your child just threw up.  Have a sickly child next to you in this case. 

Playing house

Late in the summer I needed to find a moment to meet with a co-worker/friend.  Only she had 9 month old twins as well as a 4 year old in the house all summer, so finding a quiet moment was nearly impossible.  We decided to meet at a park.  We figured if I brought Theo along (Eli was off at camp) he and her four year old daughter could play and we could each wrangle a twin.  The plan worked excellently.  Theo, although much older than my friend's daughter, was a charming pal to her on the playground.  While chatting with Nora and holding a twin I watched them climb up and over everything there.  Then they retired to quieter play in some of the play structures for younger kids. 

At some point, their play took them into our sphere for a moment.  Theo caught my eye as he darted by.  Gave me a bit of a frantic look.  Not long thereafter, the twins started demanding that naps needed to be prepared for so we packed up to leave.  Nora's daughter was bereft to be leaving Theo.  He got a long hug and made promises to play again soon. As they drove off and we walked to our car, Theo let out a long sigh.  Then this:  "Whew.  That whole time we were playing house.  I don't think Emilia noticed, but sheesh, I had NO idea what I was doing.  I am exhausted."  Love him.

Car trip redux

Soon we are going to load up our car and head out to Florida to visit my parents.  My mom just called and was trying to tell me which towns to stop in to get the best gas prices. Between Minnesota and Florida. She's got it all mapped out.  I fear I did not listen.

I just got enough books on tape from the local library to get us to the southern tip of Mexico, so if we get nervous about spending a week with my parents, we can just veer a little west and keep on driving.  

Our impending departure reminds me of a line from Eli on our drive home from Boston this summer.  We made the error of buying him a new watch for his birthday in Boston, on our way out of town.  It had many functions, including 3 alarms and a stop watch with a 100 lap memory.  Eli busied himself for the first several hours setting his alarms for various points in the very near future and then delighting in silencing them.  After awhile he turned his attention to his new 'multi-tool'.  I was a little nervous about what would happen if we had to make a sudden stop as he was flashing quite a few blades in the back seat.

Anyway, at one point, Jon and I had been talking and I wanted to share something with the boys. They were in the back seat, trying to get the best angle on their ipod screens by hooking up improvised sun shades.  When I looked back, I noticed that Eli had his head and arms inside a pillow case to get the best view of his screen.  I said, "Guys, did you hear what Dad just said," at which point Eli interrupted from inside his pillow case and said, "DID I HEAR WHAT DAD JUST SAID????? Of course I did.  I'm right here.  Right behind you! I've been sitting behind you in this car for (quick consult of the new watch) 10 hours, 13 minutes and 53 seconds! I've heard everything everyone in this car has said for the past 10 hours, 13 minutes, and 53 seconds! Of course I heard what Dad just said!!!".  Oh.  Ok then.

Can't wait for this new road trip to get under way!

Winter Squash Wild Rice Bake

That is what I made for dinner the other night.  It was quite nice, despite Eli's warning that "anytime the word 'bake' is used as a noun, do not have high hopes for dinner". 

From NYC to the BWCA with hardly a breath between them

As we gear up to head to Florida to visit my parents, it has me thinking of our other vacations this past year.  Last spring we did a crazy thing.  We packed up our boys and flew them to NYC for 5 days over spring break.  And then even crazier, upon return, we quickly unpacked and within a few days were heading up to DuNord, on the edge of the BWCA.  Talk about transitions.

Our trip to NYC was lovely.  Nice weather, nice apartment, great boys.  They were eager to see the sites so we typically left our apartment by 8am and spent the next 10-12 hours wandering the city.  We became expert subway users and logged many hours on foot as well.  We did try to do to much, but we had fun doing it.  And there's oh so much more to do when we return.  Not if, but when.  Highlights for me were the times we all laughed heartily together- peering through dense fog at the top of the Empire State building, getting slap happy in the Metropolitan Museum of Art with Theo, and of course the bus fiasco when I panicked and caused us to really stick out as tourists, although surely we had been busted early and often already.  Really a fabulous trip. 

And then we came home, re-inserted ourselves into hectic life in St. Paul, only to dart out of town again within days so I could attent a board retreat up at DuNord.  It felt crazy to be packing up again, but once we took a deep breath of the north woods air and settled into our rustic cabin by the lake, it all made sense. This is what we needed in order to recalibrate from our hectic urban adventure.  We hiked along misty trails, found evidence of wolf activity, follwed moose prints by the front door of our cabin, and watched the ice begin to break up on the lake.  By the first evening, there was a 2-3 foot perimeter of ice-free water just on the edge of the lake, enough for us to plunge into following a hot hot sauna.  As the steam rose of our bodies in the cold night air, we marveled at our good fortune to be able to experience so many of the great places this old world has to offer us.

First Snowfall

Theo has been waiting for it.  Eagerly anticipating.  So it was easy to rouse him up out of bed this morning with the promise of an exciting sight out his window.  After a hot shower (oh no! wrinkles be in Theo's future!) he joined me for breakfast.  The flakes coming down outside were huge and lovely.  Theo was so moved he had to go outside and yell for joy.  And then he came in and said, "You know Mom, those flakes are so big, they kind of remind me of big flakes of skin."  Nice Theo. Ever the poet.

Wrinkle remedy

This past weekend we were walking in a local park when we ran into Larissa, a Russian woman who Jon tutored in English 20 years ago while we were preparing to leave for the Peace Corps.  We have run into Larissa now and again over the years, always outside and always while she is doing something active.  About 7 years ago, it was up at Camp DuNord over New Year's.  Jon was helping a ski group push a car out of a snow pile when he looked at the pusher to his right and realized it was Larissa!  Then 2-3 years ago I caught up to her on a bike path down by the river.  So it was not a huge suprise to find her out hiking through the woods on a beautifully sunny and warm November afternoon.

What did suprise me is that Jon asked her how old she was.  Which I admit, I was wondering.  But to ask outright shocked her a little, I think.  I tried to smooth it over by saying, "Forty, not a day over forty."  She gave me a little pat and said, "You're close.  I just turned 80."  80!  This caused me to take a closer look- trim, fit, active, and virtually wrinkle free!  I mean her forhead is smooth as a baby's.  Maybe some laugh and worry lines around the mouth and eyes.  But seriously.  She was born in 1932.  Things have happened since then that would cause a person some wrinkles. 

We chatted, introduced our kids, and then it was clear she had miles yet to hike and so she was off.  As we walked on Jon and I both proclaimed to our kids how much we liked that little woman (she is shorter than Theo).  I remarked on the lack of wrinkles.  Jon then recalled that her secret to health, 20 years ago, had been to take a cold shower every morning.  I do remember her trying to talk us into this habbit, and we did end up doing it for a while, but that was only because we were living in the Carribean and we had no hot water, and really no need for it as daily highs were 85.  I remember being committed to cold showering upon our return to the states, but by the time we hit October here in Minnesota, I had the hot water on and seriously so.

But now that I see her at 80 and so incredibly wrinkle free, I get to wondering.  In my 43 years, I spent about 2 cold showering.  But not really 2 because often during those Peace Corps years we had no water so I didn't shower at all. But I would take 'sea baths', the Antiguan remedy for everything.  Those had to count for something, right?  So, if I spent the next 40 years taking TWO cold showers a day, could I reverse current trends and end up in my 80s looking like Larissa?  Please?  But me thinks the trend that has started will carry on its intended course.

I told my mom of this theory of cold showering, and she said, "I'd take wrinkles any day over the prosepect of a cold shower."  I think I agree.

Don't worry Mom, I learned my lesson

This is what my son said to me when I asked him what happened to his eye.

The Widji Way

This past summer was the first summer my older guy met the age requirements to head off to Camp Widjiwagan.  He's been watching a family friend go for years.  Add to that stories from Wally, Amy, and myself of our adventures from summers long ago, and the kid was curious.  But he was also skinny as a rail, uninterested in having anything wet in contact with his body ever, and pale.  I admit I wandered if we were sending him too early.  He had definitely been on and enjoyed short canoe trips down the Namakagon over the years.  And canoe trip earlier the summer with Camp St. Croix was a success despite awe-inspiring heat, bugs, and storms.  But that was only 3 days down a river.  Widji's shortest trip is 7 days out in the BWCA.  With a wet-boot policy firmly enforced.

But he showed interest so we signed him up.  And sent him.  I spent the week mostly calm, really mostly worried that a bad experience this early would taint it and he'd not want to return.  He had tried to carry a canoe before, but really, he weighed less than their lightest canoes!  And he had nothing on the traditional Woody that was sent with each group.  Ok, I was also a little worried about the temperatures- his earlier St. Croix trip had been scorching, while BWCA forecasts had temperatures dipping into the 20s (in August!).

At the end of his session, we were invited up for a banquet.  The invite included careful instructions about where and when parents were welcome, and where we were not.  We got to hug him before dinner, and he gave us a quick thumb's up and a lovely smile before heading off to eat with his cabin group. After dinner this group showed the parents their cabin, their route on the big bwca maps, and, most importantly, their woody canoe.  They spilled out tales of adventure, hijinks, and a sprinkling of woe as we ambled around camp together.  At the banquet, parents sat at the back as each group got up to share a few words about their trip.  Every single kid found something great to say- about what they did, what they learned, how they grew.  It produced tears in this mom.  After the banquet they were gone, off to the final sauna and then to bed. 

Our 5 hour ride home was not consumed by screen time, but rather Eli regailed us with tales of his trip.  Stories that ranged from wicked headwinds to farting jokes to camp cooking.  He talked of how he hated wearing the wet boots all day, but the joy he felt every evening in stripping them off after one last swim and putting on dry, warm socks.  And best of all, he asked us to sign him up again next summer.

I'm really surprised at how much my guy could grow in the space of 10 days.  He came back from this Widji adventure standing taller, more confident, and yet, still as dang lovable as ever.  I'm a believer.

If you give a kid a pickaxe...

Actually, the tool in question was apparently a cousin of the pickaxe with some more romantic name, but I can't remember what it was.  Anyway, a few weekends back we pointed our car north on a Thursday evening in order to head up to Camp DuNord and partake in a work weekend.  Work weekends are our latest greatest discovery.  You get lodging for free, and pay a nominal fee to be fed all of your meals.  In exchange, you spend a day or two roaming the north woods.  Of course, in theory, we were working, but you couldn't convince Theo of that.  He was having the time of his life.
What kid would not love the chance to roam the woods with implements of destruction (or, in more steady hands, forest management tools)? 

Our work weekend started out by waking up in a camper cabin at Bear Head State Park outside of Ely, MN.  The temp outside was 20 degrees- stunning for our early October bones.  The kids (we were with the adventure-prone Neskemoens) quickly found that the water had frozen at the base of the water pump.  They spent quite a bit of time slipping around on this precious square foot of ice.  Then we took a lovely hike under a brilliant blue sky.  By mid-morning we headed toward Ely, where we found about 3 inches of snow on the ground.  Even I got terribly excited while waiting outside a coffee shop to pelt Amy and Jeff when they emerged with their morning drinks.  As we drove the last half hour to DuNord, the northwoods were heart-stoppingly beautiful.  The blue sky and evergreens familiar from our summer trips were coupled with golden tamaracks and a blanket of fresh snow. 



When we arrived at DuNord the boys disappeared. The lure of camp plus snow drew them out of our sphere of influence immediately.  That left the adults time to take a quick cabin tour, as everything was unoccupied.  Well, almost everything.  Sorry nappers in Thor's!  It was interesting for us, cabin-tent dwellers, to see how the other half of dunordians lived.  Defnitely appealing.

Friday afternoon we were outfitted with nippers and saws and told to beat back the woods from the main path down to the cabin tents.  An aged dog joined us and kept the boys occupied when their nipping muscles started aching.  It was lovely to work up a sweat under the bright sun as the snow melted all around us.

But Saturday was really the highlight. After a delicious breakfast we were sent off into the woods.  This time with nippers, saws, AND pickaxes.  My crew consisted of all the younger boys (5 of them!) and we had a lovely time nipping away branches and tackling the challenge of removing downed trees from the path.  About halfway through our shift Theo found himself in possesion of the pickaxe-type thing.  He was free to wander off the path, find old downed logs, and just wail away at them.  With no purpose but to tire his muscles and bring a smile to his face.  The logs didn't need pickaxing, but the boy needed to pickaxe, so the log was happy to oblige.  While we were wandering the woods, Eli was given the chance to drive the 6 wheeler down a crazy rollercoaster of a path and help unload gravel on to a low spot.  He thrived as well.  I think we had more fun with our work than we would have had if we were just told to use the day as we pleased.  The sense of purpose, plus the opportunity to challenge ourselves and our muscles was a winning combination.

The day of outside heavy work was followed by a warm dinner, a night of 'Contra Dancing' and then a 250 degree sauna and a plunge into the near-freezing lake (I mean, it had freshly melted snow in it!).  We slept hard that night.  We will return!  But I'm not sure I'm going to get Theo a pickaxe for Christmas, as he requested on the ride home.  Our little city lot just does not offer the same pickaxing opportunities as up north.