Coop's Corner: September 2022

Tuesday, September 27, 2022

Delta Wisconsin Weekend - 2022/09/25

Unless my math is wrong, this was our 3rd year at the cabin in Northern, Wisconsin and so far, these weekends have been mid-September outings. We had a beautiful Friday, a wetter Saturday that didn't really deter our plans or fun.

I left Thursday after work, had the Royal Enfield Himalayan loaded on the trailer the evening before.

Friday (red) the 4 of us rode together, Saturday (green) I split off on my own. My combined mileage for the two days was 221.

Friday morning breakfast at Delta Diner, a Very good thing we were there at 7:55. This breakfast was the first of three....we ate there every morning.

This was mine, Day 1. Pulled Pork Espresso Biscuits-n-Gravy.

A great opportunity to enter the food service industry!

Horse Pasture Grade....a favorite of mine.

Pigeon Lake....the lake that water level rose to a point that surrounding properties were destroyed. This road has been closed and raised at numerous times to finally be passable.

We stopped at the Fish Hatchery.

We stopped (always do) at the former site of the Lenawee Fire Tower.

Dinner time on Fish Friday....

Saturday morning, back to Delta Diner

I've had the Dutch Pancake before.....and I'll have it again.

Saturday morning....I went out on my own, Paul, Eric and Kevin took off to pick up the Tran Wisconsin Adventure Trail to the north.

It was wet and really never quit precipitating all day.

The strangest, craziest coincidence......suddenly a motorcycle was met. It was Eric and the rest of the team!! With miles and miles of Forest Roads, it really was a surprise that we met as we did. Again, they were following the Adventure Trail from Delta north to Cornucopia. Eric had followed the 'Trail up to Delta on Thursday.

Data points very close together where I turned around.

Long Lake....

I do not allow drivers to pull out in front of me. This guy tested my patience.

North Coast Coffee in Ashland....coffee and a sandwich.

Richard, here's the Big Rock again, in Big Rock County Park. It's a big flat base for the river to pass over, stopping the spawning fish from going any further upstream. Fishing illegal right here.

The extensive soccer fields west of Ashland along Cty. C.

Extensive wetness....

These sandy ruts look more innocent than they sometimes prove to be.

Birch Grove Campground, always a nice place to stop lakeside...

Like the sign says....

Loading up Sunday morning...

A couple of wide angle views of our cozy cabin....

My Sunday morning Delta Diner breakfast....Stuffed Hash Browns.

A gas stop on the way home, 220 miles total, 100 miles of Pretty Wet.

Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)