Wildersmith on the Gunflint

Life along the upper Trail remains seasonal in one aspect and puny in another. The past week found the region again hunkered down amidst its usual sub-zero character. Finally, last weekend saw some moderation that made even single-digit temps feel balmy.

On the puny side, we have gone another week and the drought on snow continues. Although the landscape remains pure of crystal, we need a break in this continuing dry spell that has haunted us during nearly a decade of winters.

If flakes don’t start building up soon, our dry time before green-up will be more precarious than usual in terms of wildfire risk.  And, the liquid glacial undulations that froze in a depleted state could thaw, exposing more shoreline than ever before. Guess the prognosticators that said El Nino would crush winter as we like it in northern Minnesota have been right on.

The brutal cold of the past few weeks provides some interesting occurrences that only backcountry folks have the privilege of experiencing. The eerie scrunch of steps in dry snow, unexpected popping of frozen sap in a white pine and the house suddenly creaking are samples of life in the frozen north.

In addition, the sight of frosted foreheads and backs on the deer during these bitter mornings seems almost unimaginable. How cold, but durable, they must be.

At 28 below a couple mornings ago, Whiskey and Jack, my gray jay pals, came to my hands with a delicate frost build-up around their eyes. Without this up close and personal fellowship, who would have thought that this happens, much less that they could still be alive.

We should be amazed at how many of Mother Nature’s critters have evolved to survive in her seasonal conditions. Sad to say, though, that rapidly changing circumstances in our universe are putting the evolution of adaptations for all living things into a critical state.

The recent issue of the “Minnesota Conservation Volunteer” magazine has a section on tree adaptation to climate warming in our northern latitudes. The presentation was interesting in regard to what is happening to the southern boreal forest. The prognostication for these adaptations during the next 100 years is not what we old-timers like to hear…particularly if you have affection for the coniferous forest as we know it now.

Speaking of adaptation and survival, day-to-day is on the minds of wolves throughout the territory. Most recently, a wild game buffet has been opened up on the lake ice in front of Gunflint Lodge. The wolf pack provided the elements and many other wild carnivorous folks have taken part in the feast.

Meanwhile, another feeding station has been noted somewhere along the south shore of Loon Lake. A friend over there tells of one warrior coming up from the lake shore with a leg of venison in its jaws. It carried the meal into the woods, apparently for stashing, and then came back through, headed back to the site for more.

With the local deer population in a dwindled state, one wolf has taken a more vegetarian approach. The hungry critter has been showing up with some regularity to a bird feeding site over on Tucker Lake. It has decided that the oily flavor of spilled sunflower seeds is an acceptable diet alternative. Guess if that tummy is growling, anything will do.

Keep on hangin’ on, pray for snow and savor the winter woods!
 

As the northland is a week into another loop around old Sol,”a belated happy New Year wish comes to one and all from the Wildersmith two.

It is great to be back in the woods after a swell time with the family down in Iowa. My thanks go out to the Nosey K-9 from over on Hungry Jack for filling in while I was away.

Hope all in border country got to see the blue moon that ended the aught decade. Fortunately, we were blessed with a few clear nights on either side of the full lunar night. With reflections on the breast of fresh Christmas snow, the luster of midday splotches between dark forest shadows was stupendous.

The romance of the north woods was never more captivating than one evening around midnight. I looked out to admire the blue iridescence and watched as two white tails peacefully meandered through the yard. Pausing for a time to browse on some shrubs, they looked at the house, and even seemed to know that they were being watched.

While much of the civilized world persists in violence and turmoil, on this night in the wilderness, there surely was peace on earth.

Progressing through week one of 2010, Mother Nature has had the Zamboni going 24/7. Although not unbearably bitter, we did have a couple Wildersmith mornings that hit 30 below and then some. As I key this column, the neighborhood has not been above zero for several days. With ice making continuing to be the order, hard water anglers will be pleased as punch with the trout season opener but days away.

A friend down the road shares with me that the ice depth on Gunflint, about 300 feet out from his place, is near 9 inches. Reports from some of the smaller lakes find that frozen depths are approaching 2 feet.

Icy accents have been resonating from the Gunflint Gal as she shivers in her frozen coat. Stepping outside with frequency to bring in wood for the stove, I seldom miss out on a belch, boom, howl or screech.

It would make one wonder if enlightenments from wilderness spirits aren’t being recited between our Gunflint and her Loon Lake cousin a short distance beyond the southern cliff. In any case, although sometimes startling, the sounds of winter near the lake are as delightful as the charming ripple chorus that happens in warmer times.

The snow depth around here is somewhere near 16 inches. However, the territory has been blanked since the Dec. 25 dropping. Snow activities can be taken full advantage of now, but with a non-winter November, we are behind, and could use some full-service dumping on a weekly basis for the next few months.

I always wonder, when I depart for any period of time during the winter, if my wild pals will be here when I get back. Amazingly, most don’t take long to figure out that the old man in the sheepskin hat is home.

Within hours, some whitetail visitors had come back and bedded down outside our windows. And by next morning, the poultry-poaching martens, along with my gray jay pals, Whiskey and Jack, had also checked in for their daily nutritional supplement. Sure is nice to be wanted!

Last but not least, I am happy to announce that Gunflint Lodge icon, Bruce Kerfoot, is home from the hospital after heart bypass surgery. The delicate procedure took place just before Christmas, and his recovery was difficult at times, as many of those operations can be. Family and friends are thankful that he is back at the lake in a slow mode of recuperation.

Keep on hangin’ on, and savor hopes for a great new year.

Days of anticipation, cinnamon, chocolate and joy are finally here ….Pre-Christmas congregating has been going on for days and days since Thanksgiving and now is the time for the excitement to get serious as the Christian welcoming is again renewed.

The decades old Northwood’s Christmas Service and sleigh ride at Okontoe happened last Saturday night. The joyous season at hand brought together nearly a hundred family and Gunflint friends for a time of reflections and song honoring the marvelous Christmas Story.

Dating back to 1971, the traditional “old fashioned” Christmas observance was held in the humble chapel near the Bow Lake sight of Okontoe and the Adventurous Christians Retreat. The chapel, newly completed after ten years, has plenty of sweat equity invested by hundreds of dedicated people, and it showed, with glowing ambiance. 

After the service, treats were served and folks moved outside for caroling around a toasty bonfire. The sub-zero temps had noses “just a chillin’,” but this didn’t stop many from jumping aboard the horse drawn sleigh for rides in the snow on a splendidly romantic starlit night. What a magnificent celebration for the birthday of all birthdays!

Everyone has heard of the Black Forest, but few are blessed with getting to observe the north woods white forest. That is what we experienced at Wildersmith for many days over the past two weeks while the Gunflint was trying to freeze.

Finally the big lakes have frozen. Gunflint completed her annual winter course on the 16th. Her cousin just to the south, Loon Lake, succumbed a couple days earlier, while Seagull and Saganaga have also followed suit. So lakes are all buttoned up for the winter. The clouds of steamy vapors are calmed and sounds of restless waters have silenced until sometime next May.

The Gunflint freeze was about four days later than the average date of December 12th based on my data collection since the early eighties. Trying on her new coat has caused some apparent consternation for the Gunflint Gal as there has been a bit of   howling, screeching and squawking since the icy garment made its debut.

The pinnacle for short daylight hours has arrived and passed. With the Solstice of winter, the pendulum is now swinging longer as we head in another direction. It always seems funny that as we are shivering in this northern paradise this time of year, the first seed and plant catalog of the season has arrived, obviously promising things to come.

A heads up is issued to Trail travelers at night. The moose are now congregating in the moose zone (from the North Brule River Bridge to mid-trail) for their nightly salt lick. Several sightings have been reported but thank goodness, no collisions as yet. A daytime run up or down the byway confirms their having been there as the prancing and pawing of big ugly hooves heads in all snowy directions.

If anyone is familiar with the work of photo-artist Jim Brandenburg, they will surely remember his striking photo on the cover of “Brother Wolf.” The Smith’s had an opportunity to observe a glance at a similar pose recently on a trip down county road 20/50 only this one was live!

A handsome wolf happened in front of our vehicle and bounded a short distance up into the woods. Suddenly it stopped for a look at this large red monster. We halted and opened the window while fumbling for digital equipment.

Sure enough he checked us out as we did the same. Slowly it circled about behind a big pine only to stick its head around for another peek. And there it was, for an instance, a “photo-op” nearly identical to what Brandenburg had so splendidly captured many years ago.

Unlikely as it would seem, my human frailties bungled the chance to permanently record this secretive wild experience. So it will have to go down as an etching in the memory bank. What a gift at this time of year, one that will always be remembered when ever I drive by that spot.

Keep on Hangin’ on, and Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good day!

T’was the week before Christmas, and all through the forest, Winter has finally settled before us! 

Since the first of December, it’s as if someone just flipped a switch, and the fall season was gone. With a warmer-than-usual November spoiling us, the last lap of 2009 grabbed a hold and folks out this way have been shocked back to reality.

Last week, the north woods territory missed a big snowstorm as it passed to the south, blessing folks that really don’t give a hoot about it. Meanwhile, out in these Arrowhead hinterlands, where folks relish the stuff, we are always thankful for even the smallest of snow miracles. The half foot of white that covers the ground in border country remains as pristine as the days that it fell, and the mercury is assuredly keeping it that way.

Most recent days have been in the normal month-12 deep freeze. A few of them saw the thermometer hang out below the zero mark during daytime hours, and one morning, we saw minus 19 at Wildersmith along with a flaming cold sunrise sky.

Yes, the coldest day yet, and winter’s first day is still on the horizon. With Gunflint residents in the snowscape, we are trembling with excitement to get it on!

Jack Frost has expanded his brushwork on lakeside greenery along the south shore of Gunflint. Striking spears of frozen crystal have grown to such voluminous proportions that pine boughs are drooping under the weight. And on the leafless deciduous branches around the yard, frothy spikes have built up to as much as 1 inch in length.

With brisk winds keeping the big lakes in rolling turmoil, ice-making on them has been stifled for the time being. The Gunflint gal began to put on her coat last Saturday as the wind calmed a bit. But, by next morning, Old Man Winter was whistling in from the northwest once again, and the skim was buffeted away.

The ice on smaller lakes, however, is still in the thickening process. Some ice-covered bodies may be approaching the safe-to-walk-on stage, but caution is still advised for those hard-water fishing folks who have been waiting anxiously since the first of the month. 

A fisherman friend of mine reports that his favorite early-season spot was only frozen to 3+ inches as of last Sunday. Obviously the meager snow cover is insulating against the freezing process more than one would think, because the temps have been just right.

A couple old friends stopped by the yard last week. It was refreshing to see that they had not fallen prey to the hungry wolf pack or caught a hunter’s slug.

I awoke one morning to find a pair of old bucks lying in the yard where they’ve been coming for years to get their handout of maize. One of the two was already void of his pointed crown, while the other was in the process, carrying just a half rack. Since then, several others have moseyed through and glanced in the windows.

The frosty snow-covered balsam branches adjacent to our deck have acted in concert with the flashy pine grosbeaks and those ornery blue jays to provide a strikingly patriotic red, white and blue backdrop for winter viewing.

I’ve noticed that the winged folks of the neighborhood have seemed doubtful about dawn during the frigid lingering darkness these mornings. Guess they don’t like getting out of bed either on cold mornings. However, when they finally start flitting about from branch to branch, the colorful birds add a splendid accent to the pureness of our winter season.

Keep on hangin’ on, and savor a Solstice thought!
 

The wilderness rendition of holiday decorating has taken on a more serious note since last we met on the radio. A white blanket of snow has been spread through the upper Trail. Several light doses have layered up to five or six inches in most places, flocking a zillion pines to look like a seasonal Gunflint greeting card.

We’ve also been in the ice-making mode. The first zero reading occurred last Saturday morning at Wildersmith.  Quiet bays on Loon, Gunflint, Seagull lakes, and I’m sure, several on Saganaga have taken on the icy cover as of last weekend.

Meanwhile, the larger body of Gunflint Lake is like a boiling cauldron. The water is nearing a freeze. And ghostlike vapors are blowing ashore to enhance the beauty of this time with delicate frosty build-ups on everything that isn’t already flocked. The breath-taking winter scenery rightly affirms that this is indeed the most wonderful time of the year.

With the fresh snow, it is quite easy to see who and what has been nosing around the neighborhood after dark. With exception of those critters that slumber this time of year, it seems that nearly every creature native to these parts has made a trip through our yard in recent days.

A recent early morning run to Chik Wauk lodge, after an overnight dusting, found me following the tracks of a lone wolf for several miles along our snow-covered byway. I picked up the trail where Cross River intersects the Trail, and followed them past the Seagull guard station, where the warrior’s trek ventured off the road. Never did see the solo hunter, but I was intrigued at how far it had wandered.

A couple living over on Loon Lake had a three-pack of wolves perusing their garden one morning a few days ago. Then later the same day, they observed two more crossing the road on the lower Trail while heading into Grand Marais.

We hardly go 24 hours out this way that someone doesn’t relate some kind of wolf encounter. It would seem that the local whitetails must be skittishly looking over their shoulders at every waking moment and sleeping with ears perked and one eye open for fear of becoming a venison statistic.

My Canadian Jay pals, Whiskey and Jack are really giving credence to the old song lyrics, “Everybody needs somebody sometime.” They have become so neighborly that they follow me around the yard like an old pet dog. I even carry a small bag of bread cubes in my jacket pocket in case they chirp for a midday snack.

In recent days they have become disenchanted with their blue jay cousins at the deck side feed trough. I’m now met privately at my wood shop door for their treat each morning. They seem to have real personalities, and even look at me indignantly if the palm of my hand offers only one cube instead of the usual two or three.

Congrats go out to a Tucker Lake gal. Notification has been received that she was picked for an October billing on a coming New Year calendar. “Miss October,” as we might call her now, can conjure up many possible thoughts, but this title is truly an honorable one.

In this case, “Miss October” was one of 12 winners for the 15th annual…Bluefin Bay on Lake Superior…calendar contest. Her winning photograph for the 2010 edition, “Misty Sunrise on Magnetic Rock Trail,” and 11 others captured the attention of judges from among 175 photojournalist entrants who submitted over 1,000 photos.

“Misty Sunrise……..” captures a splendid look through digital eyes at peaceful life and times along the great Gunflint. A reception for the winning photo artists will be held in January, more on that later.
 

Appropriately, the last segment of 2009 serves up a double-cheese whammy of northern lunar brilliance. As this column heads off into cyberspace, the universe celebrates the coming of the full cold moon.

Then as ’09 expires 28 days later, the full cold sphere honors December with a blue moon delight. Let’s hope that the skies are clear and the landscape is white for a twofold reflection of border country ambiance.

This is a month of special birthdays and anniversaries. Noteworthy is the one that falls on the 25th. Along with this magnificent occasion, yours truly not only celebrates advancing one year but, with this column, also completes the first year of being part of the WTIP radio team.

It’s been a blast! I am so grateful to WTIP for picking up my abandoned newspaper column, and to the listening community for many kind words of support. Hopefully I can continue to serve you with snippets of life from out here in the Gunflint woods for years to come.

More seasonal weather eased back into the territory last weekend, and the lake freeze-up began anew. The last few daybreaks have seen temps in the high teens and 20s which appears to have finally done in the liquid undulations. The big lakes remain rolling, in anticipation of some calm, minus-something nights.

As frequent users of the scenic byway know, a trip down or back up always provides some new adventure or previously unseen moment of beauty. Such was the case on the day after Black Friday last week, when the Smiths made their weekly supply run and gift shopping excursion to Grand Marais.

Our initial observation was no doubt the first trek across the ice of Little Iron Lake by either man or beast. Barely frozen, we could see that an adventurer had made a crossing in some type of floating craft, just after the first solidarity had formed. Left in its wake was a path of splayed chards and an almost immediate skim-over. I don’t know whether the trek was going or coming, but the return trip just might have to wait for a different mode.

As we cruised on by that path through the ice, it became evident Mother Nature had started putting out her initial holiday decorations. Jack Frost did the legwork for Mom by coming through the forest like a Rhinestone Cowboy.

The lacing of every needle and twig with minute diamonds was not as frothy as some that I’ve seen, but with the sun gaining stature in the early morning sky, it was clear that the frosty artist has not lost his touch. Every foot of advancement down the blacktop provided a blinding of twinkling lights in all hues of the rainbow.

Human celebration at this time of year dishes up some splendid decorative displays, but the glittering, natural lighting workmanship, on a clear cold morning along this peaceful ribbon of highway, cannot be matched by anything that mankind can conjure up. No snow yet, but the spirit of the season is coming alive.

Moose sighting reports have been non-existent since their hunting season commenced, but a family traveling up to their cabin for a Thanksgiving retreat brought word to me that there are still some out there. A cow and her calf were spotted in the burned-out timber near where the Ham Lake fire jumped the Trail a couple years ago.

It would seem that the monsters of the byway might just need a little encouragement. I’ll bet we’ll see them when snow-covered roads cause an opening of the world’s longest salt lick. Come on, Old Man Winter, we’re waiting…

Keep on hangin’ on, and savor the coming season!
 

The weather for Thanksgiving week in the northland continues to be other than normal. El Nino is right on track as experts have predicted, sending wave after wave of warmth along the Canadian border states right into our territory. We remain gray and mucky.

Although the official calendar reading for winter is nearly a month away, the region should still be having some sort of cold season conditions by now. So we winter worshippers have already missed about a month of our favorite time of year. And, for those that dread the long cold season, their Thanksgiving is probably enhanced knowing there is one 30-day segment behind them.

In spite of the yo-yo thermometer readings from the low 20s in the mornings to near 40s in the afternoon, many of the smaller lakes along the Trail have managed to freeze over. Far from safe to traverse, I did find ice at a half inch thick on the Saganaga Bay east of the Chik Wauk Lodge last Friday.

With the 10th Thanksgiving of the century upon us, my patience is growing thin for snow, but many folks are thankful that we’ve been loaned a few days from winter with this extension of Indian summer. Time will tell if Old Man Winter will desire an immediate payback with an add-on next spring.

Deer hunting successes picked up during week two of the firearms season. I’m told that the hunt for many in the hot orange garb was a struggle, with whitetail selections few and far between around the area.

A hunter friend of mine reports a unique wild experience. While sitting in his tree perch, patiently waiting for the right buck to make an appearance, a six-pack provided plenty of entertainment, and I don’t mean of the 12-ounce canned variety.

Apparently a lingering aroma from a previous deer kill, below his lofty location, caught the attention of a mother wolf and her quintet of adolescent offspring. The wolf gang gathered just below where he was sitting, paid him no attention, and milled around for some time, sniffing about and licking bloody dregs off the forest floor.

Normally traveling in single file, they eventually departed. This time though, the special six-pack spread out side by side, and made a sweep of the area in case a morsel had been missed while fading into obscurity of the woods.

To observe an up-close occasion with these warriors of the wilderness is rare. And, to be a privy to such a wild encounter may be a once-in-a-lifetime happening, although living in the forest every day, never say never.

In this great bountiful wilderness we surely want to give thanks at this time, and every day hence for our infinite number of blessings: like wives and husbands…kids and grandkids…grandmas and grandpas…sisters and brothers…aunts, uncles and cousins…good friends and neighbors…cabins and homes…earth and heaven…blue skies and gray…breezes and calm…stars and the moon…aurora and rainbows…sunrise and sunsets…fresh air and clear waters…ripples and waves…ice and snow…sights and smells…hoots and howls…hills and valleys…birch, maple and pine…buds, flowers and plants…trails and trekking…campfires, tents and fun…fishing and hunting…skiing and sledding…deer and moose…bears and wolves…fox and hares…martens and mink…chipmunks and squirrels…eagles, hawks and osprey…loons and partridge…ducks and geese…owls and ravens…bees, birds and bugs…and everything else in this magical northern kingdom. We are eternally grateful.

Keep on hangin’ on, and savor your time with family and friends, turkey and trimmings.