I had to write a post because I’ve been granted a reprieve from the weather.  Thanks God.  It’s supposed to be short lived but I’ll take what I can get.

By the time I arrived at my next camping stop the weather had changed to perfect for drying out.  Sunny, breezy, mid seventies.  I even got a chance for a fire. 🙂

The title of this post is a take off on a book I enjoyed called The Work of Wolves by Kent Meyers of Spearfish, SD. (Thanks for the tip Tim)

When I got back to camp after my excursion up to the Apostle Islands, having donned a pair of dry jammy bottoms and my fleece lined crocs, I sat out in my camp chair having a cigar. It was still raining lightly but not enough to penetrate the canopy. But only if you don’t count the occasional leaf giving up a large drop that would plop on my head or knee. I thought about a shower, which I generally do for about a day before actually taking one. I brush my teeth every few days whether they need it or not. Wait. What? Oh c’mon people, I’m kidding. Anyway, the shower got further and further away as I became entertained by the fall busyness of a red squirrel gathering food.  It all was happening right in front of and above me like I had a front row seat.

He would scamper up the tree, go way out on the branch ends with the leaf clusters, cling precariously to the branch as it bobbed and drooped under his weight, and pluck his prize. Then, with it secure in his rabid little mouth, he would scurry down the tree and off into the woods somewhere behind me. This process would repeat itself over and over, although occasionally he would make his way to more secure footing, chew and clean the little gem as if to assess it’s value, and then do the scurry part. Squirrels are very good at scurrying and scampering. He would take a different route each time back to his storage unit seemingly to keep me confused and prevent me from discovering and raiding his stash of stores.

This repetition was interrupted by one hair raising (if you’re a squirrel) attempt at thievery. Along the way in his work he had knocked five or six of his targets to the ground. They fell next to my truck in the little access drive to my campsite so they were easy to spot by pirates. Eventually another squirrel came sneaking down from the road with his eye on the easy pickins. The squirrel that had been doing all the work came tearing (squirrels also tear) down the tree, making a racket that belied such a little body. He chased the raider off, disappearing into the woods nose to tail. When he returned he had obviously decided it was too risky to leave them in the open and, one by one, carried them off to safe storage.

Eventually, cigar smoked, the rain chased me into my camper. Crawling into my sleeping bag for some reading felt exceptionally good after a long damp day.

As I’m finally finishing this post it’s Saturday morning and the rain is thundering on the roof of my camper. I was going to move on today into Ontario but decided to stay put one more day with the forecast giving me a better chance to pack up dry tomorrow morning.

I am well and hope you all are too.

The ferry crossing from Bayfield over to Madeline Island is only about 20 minutes or so. The skies were overcast and the water was choppy. In all directions the lake horizon was dotted with sails. It was a good 15 knot wind. Ok, here’s where you should smirk because I don’t really know from knots. It just sounded nice and nautical. Let’s just say it was windy.

La Pointe is not a very big place. It’s a ferry wharf and a few shops and restaurants. I’m sure it bustles in the summer time but I have to guess that there are a lot of browsers and souvy hunters that are let down. There is a great museum for history buffs and down the road a ways is a golf course and marina.

You gotta love a joint like this.  Complete with food truck.  Near as I could figure out, the name of the place was Power Ranger’s Headquarters.  You can’t make this stuff up. 🙂

The first white people, French Voyageurs, came to the island in about 1650. The Native People are Ojibwe. A few settlers gradually migrated to the island but the first missionaries didn’t come ‘til almost two hundred years later.

The weather was threatening but I came to the island determined to take a nice bike ride in a beautiful place. The road out to Big Bay State Park is nice and wide with bike lanes. The other couple of roads on the island are narrow with no shoulders. I lost count but I must have seen 30 white tails on my way out to the park. One young buck came crashing out and crossed the road right behind me. Scared the you know what out of me.

While I was riding around in the park it started to rain. The rain was light but looked like it was going to last for awhile. I waited some in a big wood shed but eventually just bit the bullet and set out on my return leg. On the way back I didn’t see a single deer. They apparently have the sense to not be out in the rain. By the time I got back to La Pointe I was soaked.

The ferry ride back to Bayfield was cold and very choppy on the water. This was mainly a vehicle ferry so inside shelter was limited and full so I just sought shelter out of the wind. The movement of the ferry was accentuated by the swaying of a big tour bus parked on the deck. (Yup, a tour bus). I caught myself wondering if there were some seniors on the tour bus needing the bathroom for motion sickness. I was thankful that the ride is fairly short and that I had a semi dry hoodie from my backpack to put on over my wet shirt. When I got back to my truck I had a dry shirt and vest to put and dry running shoes. I just had to live with my soaked sweat pants so it was serial itchy butt all the way back to camp.

My discomfort didn’t stop me from stopping at one of the first places I came to in Bayfield for a beer and something to eat. The place is called Gruenke’s, a bed and breakfast/bar and restaurant that was well worth the stop. Had some great tomato basil soup with tortellini and a BLT with a broiled whitefish filet added. Nummy.  The twin son and daughter of the owner were on duty, and because it wasn’t busy, my meal was laced with a wonderful conversation with them.  Everything felt better after that, the itchy butt notwithstanding.

If you haven’t ever, make the trip to Bayfield and Madeline Island. It’s a beautiful area and not a long drive from the Twin Cities. With all due respect to my friends who have school age kids, come in the fall after the summer crazies have left, and if a tour bus drives onto the ferry, take the next one. 🙂

As I’m writing this it’s Thursday morning and I’m facing the prospect of packing up in the rain. Even as I sit here I can feel the temperature dropping. The weather has been pretty much crap since I left two days ago. Yesterday I got soaked on a bike ride on Madeline Island, but more on that in the next post.

My little camper has served me well but I get tired of setting it up and taking it down, especially in the rain. It makes me long for a little travel trailer that I can just hitch up, raise the stabilizers, and go. (You were right, Nate)

Copper Falls is a very nice State Park and Campground. It’s thick forest, the campsites are very private, and there’s plenty of good hiking and biking trails. Mellen is a sleepy little place carved out of the woods, with a lumber mill, two gas stations, and two bars. The only downside is if you don’t  like to be off the cell grid.

If you come camping into this area I can also attest to how nice Amnicon Falls Campground is just east of the town of Superior. I camped there in a previous life, before anyone even thought about being on the grid or off the grid. My guess is that it’s proximity to Superior means you could still obsess about your cell phone. 🙂

I’m moving on to hang with the Yoopers for a couple of days and then in to Ontario. I have a wet camper, a clammy sleeping bag and pillow, a bunch of wet clothes, and I haven’t been able to even think about a campfire. I need some of those sunny, breezy fall days.

Ok, sorry, enough whining. I’m hoping for better weather ahead.  I know this post is kinda boring but I have to get my posting legs under me again.  I’ll try to do better.

Here we are back in my dining room, otherwise known as the launch pad.

One of the blessings of retirement is being able to do some of those things you’ve thought about doing for a long time, waiting to have the time.  Of course once out of excuses you actually have to start doing them.  This is important because all of those things aren’t necessarily just the fun things.  Some of them are tasks that are tedious, time consuming, and in some cases involve spending money.

One of the things I’ve discovered about retirement is once you don’t have the routines of discipline like going to work, task fulfillment and various obligations while there, etc., the self starter in you still has to find itself.  And sometimes it pretends to be a little blind.  But I digress.

So why is our wanderer writing a blog after months of silence?

One of the trips I’ve long thought about doing is circumnavigating Lake Superior, so it’s time to hitch up the camper, hit the road, and do some blogging again for a couple of weeks.  I’ve never been on the road from Sault St. Marie around to Thunder Bay, so that part of the trip will be a complete new adventure.

So for my faithful followers out there, I plan to go back over my history of comments, try to remember as best I can the many people who have graced me with their comments in conversations that we’ve had over the summer, and reach out.  It seems rather daunting, but I’ll do my best.  If I miss someone, maybe word of mouth will find you.

In the meantime, I am well and hope you all are too.