Making our way back to Virginia, we had some interesting stops along the way. I took one last picture of the St. Croix River before driving to Babcock County Park Campground in McFarland, just outside of Madison, Wisconsin. Wisconsin is known for its cheese, but we haven’t really seen it. We drove Rt. 8 east into the sun, then turned southeast on 53 through Eau Claire and the Chippewa River, then I94 and I90 to McFarland. I didn’t realize until writing this that we were running parallel to the Mississippi River. Our friend on the Ferry from Madeline Island had advised us to follow the Mississippi. That might require a dedicated Trip. Interesting how the St. Croix River had a feel of the Mississippi once we passed “The Dells”
Along the way, we stopped in Tomah to visit Humbird Cheese. I inspected the case, first seeing a price tag of $119. I was shocked until I realized each package of sharp cheddar was arranged by age. We got to our price range at 6 years. Each package was wrapped in wax. The lady helping us, Colleen, was very informative, patiently answering all of our questions. There were many kinds of cheese in the display case, making it hard to choose. The store also had cranberries, jams and an interesting variety of meats. https://www.humbirdcheese.com
“Wisconsin cheese is renowned for its high quality and variety, with over 600 different types produced, making it the largest cheese-producing state in the U.S. The state’s cheesemaking tradition, which dates back to the 19th century, combines European techniques with local expertise, resulting in award-winning cheeses that reflect a rich cultural heritage.” from AI.
Wisconsin has incredible, huge farms and lots of corn. It made driving pleasant along 8 and 53. On the interstates there were lots of orange barrels and bumps. LOTS!
After arriving in McFarland, we had some chores to do; groceries, laundry, gas and a car wash. It was all within two blocks of the campground. Martha made a wonderful dish of chicken, mushrooms, rice and peas for dinner.
In the morning we drove into Madison for the largest producer-only farmers’ market in the United States. “Approximately 130 members attend every Saturday. All of the items for sale are grown, raised, and produced in Wisconsin by the person behind the stand.” Called The Market on The Square, it surrounds the square around the beautiful capitol building. Prices and products are clearly labeled, and every booth was neat and clean. Wisconsin may be known for its cheese, but the flowers were incredible. Vegetables, fruits and mushrooms were abundant, but the largest lines were in front of bakeries with so many delicious offerings. Then there is corn. Having passed miles of huge corn fields on our drive, we wondered what the differences were. At the market there was a huge selection of colors, varieties and popcorn.
Back at camp I wanted to address the water heater issue that Brooke had pointed out in Apostle Islands. A great video showed exactly what to do – 🔥 RV Atwood Water Heater Soot Cleaning & Fix | Improve Efficiency. The problem is it is burning dirty, and essentially needed to be cleaned and also tuned. A short pipe with openings for air can be adjusted to get a clean, blue flame. I will check it more frequently, but it is amazing it isn’t knocked off kilter every day when you consider the bumps we have endured. I may launch into a rant on the state of our highways some time.
As a reward at the end of the day, we scanned our TV reception and found 45 stations using the antenna, which is pretty amazing. We watched the Ohio State/Washington Game while texting Ed and Diego. Ed was at the game and said we had a better view of the game than he did:} He said it is an otherwise beautiful view of the adjacent harbor where many come in boats to the game. They have sailgates instead of tailgates.
Martha picked up a brochure in the Farmhouse Restaurant about an outdoor class on mushrooms. We have wanted to do this for some time, so she called and scheduled it. Our last hike piqued our interest. There were so many mushrooms of all sorts. All of this rain and fog has made perfect conditions for mushrooms. They were just sprouting up everywhere!
We drove to our meeting place and were the first to arrive. We talked with a gentleman who drove up, then two ladies who came. Arne Martinson, our leader, came next.
I have added and supplemented from other sources since I can’t remember all the important information Arne gave us. I would love to take this class over and over.
Dressed in hiking pants with an unusual camera setup around his neck, 28 years old, Arne (pronounced Arnie) said we would follow a popular trail. The two ladies were at least knowledgeable and Dana carried a field notebook. He had instructed us to bring a bag or basket to collect mushrooms.
He said the purpose would be to introduce us to a variety of mushrooms and to give us confidence to pick and eat several of the varieties. By the time we got to the trailhead, it was already evident this was going to be a fun day.
His enthusiasm, level of knowledge and teaching abilities are great. It took me 30 or 40 minutes to finally start recording him. In the middle the recording somehow stopped. 30 minutes later, I restarted it. The woods were chock full of mushrooms. He was spotting things right and left, and the information was coming fast. Arne has a way of slowing it down and hitting important points.
LBM, little brown mushroom
Coral mushrooms
Chanterelles
toothed mushrooms
Dorol mushroom
Black Trumpet
Black Trumpets
Black Trumpets
Shelf mushrooms
DNE – do not eat
Shrimp of the Woods
Chanterelles
First there were the LBM’s, little brown mushrooms. There was a discussion of all the varieties, probably thousands of them. It can be hard to specifically identify them, so the simple rule for beginners is to not eat any of these. The Galerina class has over 300 species, some of which can be toxic, even deadly. “So let’s just stay away from these.”
Later he would summarize toxicity. Pick and eat what you are absolutely sure of. “Send me a picture any time of ones you are not sure of.” He got two or three of those calls or texts during the morning. He pointed out some mushrooms that are toxic, meaning you may have an upset stomach, or you might get sick, or you might wish you had never eaten that mushroom, but he doesn’t personally know of anyone who has died from eating mushrooms. Don’t eat them raw. Clean them well before cooking.
Then there were the shelf mushrooms. There are some edibles in this category like Chicken of the Woods. There were two interesting points about this group. He counted rings on one to judge its age. Like rings on a tree stump, he said this mushroom had been there for eight years.
Another was the hoof mushroomwhich can be prepared and carry an ember for a long time. The Ojibwe used this to carry a fire from one camp to another (my addition). The mushroom is the amadou mushroom (Fomes fomentarius).
There were the gilled mushrooms, with gills on the underneath. Again, it is too difficult to identify for certain, so for beginners like us, don’t eat them. Some have skirts on the stem. One is toxic. It has a bulb at the base along with a skirt, called the Destroying Angel. So stay away from gilled mushrooms, especially ones with skirts and bulbs.
The other deadly one is the Autumn Skullcap, which can cause liver and kidney failure. I think he said he has not seen either of these mushrooms in this area.
Interestingly, he said all animals in the forest eat mushrooms – bears, deer, squirrels, etc. “Everyone OK with going off-trail?” Then we are walking through the forest. Bending over to show us a pretty mushroom, he turns his head and gets very excited. Under a rotting log are tiny mushrooms attached to the log.
“These are (some name I can’t remember) and they had never been found this far north until I reported finding them here. I wrote an article about it with a picture on the cover,” he said proudly.
Like a professor, he is a member of the Mycological Society, going to meetings often, and goes to Colorado to explore and lecture. “I’m a total geek,” he said. His enthusiasm is contagious.
There were a number of mushrooms of interest that were unusual or pretty that he talked about, like coral mushrooms. Then he got excited. “Hey look at these! Black Trumpets!” I couldn’t see them. “They are everywhere!” Still couldn’t see them as he anxiously picked them, handing some to others, picking off the dirty bottom of the stem. “When you get them home, unfold them and wash them in a salad spinner just like you do lettuce. Keep them in a paper bag in the refrigerator. They should keep about a week and a half.”
I bent over to finally see them growing through the leaves. 2-4” in height, they did look like trumpets, and they are hard to see. Everyone was busy picking them. “Mushrooms are a living organism that lives underground and puts up shoots, or fruit above ground. It is the only animal or plant that you can harvest and not harm the organism itself.” You really are harvesting the fruit.
“Sauté them in a pan with nothing in it. You will be surprised how much water comes out. As it cooks down a bit, add butter and cook until crispy. Get a good Alfredo sauce and put it over pasta or rice. Dana said, “Makes a great risotto.” These are so unique, you really couldn’t mistake them.
The Black Trumpets can sell for $140 a pound at farmer’s markets, We also found porcini mushrooms, another prized mushroom that Dana nicknamed the pancake mushroom. He encouraged such names as it can help you remember. Learning all the names can be difficult. The Porcini is an Italian name, meaning piglet. Cut them to see if there are bugs. How do you know if it is a Porcini? it is a Bolete. It feels like a spongy underside. It is called the King Porcini. It has a netting. There are no deadly Bolites in the world. Porcinis are easy to identify. They are red and brown, and the white stem and netting. Spongy. They are better dried with a dehydrator, or put in the oven at the lowest temperature possible, then vacuum-sealed.
He sliced the cap of a mushroom, which helps identify it. The first one bled blue, getting more intense with time. Dana pressed the cut piece on her notebook, and it printed a cool blue. Surprisingly, when it dried, it didn’t smear or spread. Others bleed other colors. Some ooze liquid with different flavors. I tasted one he said was spicy. It took a minute, but then the burn came like a hot pepper.
Lactifluus piperatus, commonly known as the blancaccio, is a basidiomycete fungus of the genus Lactifluus. The fruiting body is a creamy-white mushroom which is funnel-shaped when mature, with exceptionally crowded gills. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lactifluus_piperatus)
As we got back on the trail, Arne turned around and said something like: You know humans have learned to conquer the world. We have cut down the trees, ruined the fisheries, and killed the game. Foraging for mushrooms takes you to quiet, peaceful places that help us become a part of nature, instead of a destroyer. Much like fishing or hunting, it takes you to beautiful places, helps you to see what is there. The nice thing about mushroom hunting is we are not killing anything, and we lose ourselves in the environment.
I drove up to Walkie’s in the morning. He told me to come back if my check engine light came on, and it was. The truck was running a lot better. It sounded good and was getting better gas mileage.
He wasn’t there, so I poked around the yard for a while. It’s always fun to see old abandoned vehicles. One old Ford sat without an engine. A cool, old Jeep truck sat waiting for a total restore. Engines that had been removed were lined up. Transmissions rested on a wall. I figured Walkie had other business, so I headed back to camp. I stopped into Peterson’s Foods for a few essentials. I counted 19 turkeys on the way.
We decided to go to Cornucopia and visit the General Store. It is a cool store, very neatly kept. We poked around a while, then went across the street to Siskowit Farmhouse for lunch. They had a very good fish chowder and we split a chicken frittata.
Martha called Walkie. He had been helping his mother do some things, but said he would be at the garage all afternoon. Discussing the options, we decided to take a reasonably quick hike. At Myer’s Beach is a Sea Caves hike, so we drove back north.
First we had to pay, going online to get a pass to leave in the truck. Well, that took a precious 15 minutes. The hike is very pretty, and on a nice afternoon, it attracted a number of hikers. Mushrooms were everywhere. I could have spent the day photographing them. An hour later we came to the first sea cave.
Martha once again got close enough to the edge that I got nervous. It was no doubt cool. There were mora ahead, but if we were to get back to Walkie’s, we had best turn around.
We arrived at Walkie’s about 3:30. There were four other trucks being evaluated. A lady paced in front of a Ford, while her husband was watching Walkie work. Walkie saw us and said, “Let me go help Gary (Greg), because that won’t take a minute.
He grabbed his code reader and plugged it in. Whenever the check engine light comes on, it is almost always a …… problem. You won’t get throttled back or anything. He did something and then reset the code. He and the fellow with the Ford advised me on code readers and which ones would work. “It’s a good thing to have, so you can see what the problem is.”
I reached for my wallet, and he refused any payment. “You paid more than you needed the other day.” They leave Wednesday for Richmond, Virginia for their niece’s wedding. “Maybe we’ll pass you.” Looking around, he said, “I got an international business today. We got one from Wyoming, one from Florida and you from Virginia.” I went inside to get Martha and left $60 on the bench. It might have gotten a little oil on it, but he won’t mind.
At first I thought this was an Ojibwe sign, but it was Brooke’s cat making its own litter box beside our trailer. Very neat though. Brooke and John are our great campground hosts. They went for a float trip down the Brule River. I asked how the float was, and she replied, “Good.”
From Wikipedia: In 1928, United States President Calvin Coolidge maintained a summer residence, known as the “Summer White House”, at the Cedar Island Lodge, located on the upper Bois Brule River. Since then, the property has been purchased by the founders of 3M, the Ordways.[2]
The river is known for its trout fishing and white-water canoeing, and is revered by fly fishermen for its prolific mayfly and stone fly hatches. The Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources has a fish hatchery and a ranger station that operates the state forest and nearby campgrounds
Martha loves a farmer’s market, so we went to Bayfield. It had been cloudy and a bit of rain, but by the time we got there, it was a sunny, beautiful day. It was a nice, little market with about 12 booths. Martha bought a couple of different mushrooms, a candle and ……
Every week a different musician comes to play
We walked down to the water and sat on a little dock, admiring the view. We decided to take the ferry over to Madeline Island. It runs every hour on the hour, returning on the half hour. It is the only inhabited island of the 21 Apostle Islands, named by Jesuit priests for the 12 apostles.
I love walking the docks, looking at the boats. As we walked the Bayfield docks, every boat was a winner. The Apostle Islands make for great sailing, so there were a lot of sailboats. Lots of people were scurrying around, loading coolers, some with music playing. Turns out there was a two-day regatta.
Maritime Museum
We put our things in the truck, got a sandwich at a little shop and walked a few blocks to the ferry. Since they do this all day, every day, they were very efficient. It’s about a 15-minute ride across the bay. With a clear blue sky and sailboats headed for Hermit Island, it made for a pleasant ride.
We had no idea what to do on Madeline Island, so we sat in a gazebo, ate our lunch and looked at the town map. I was surprised at all the cars and trucks on the ferry. There was also a group of bikers. Somehow I envisioned a more remote atmosphere. It’s a relatively large town with the usual things. We opted for the museum first. We could have rented bikes, but it’s a big island. This might be the occasion for an electric bike.
The museum was surprisingly good. A pretty, young lady and an Objibwe man greeted us. We asked for two senior tickets. She asked is we were veterans. Martha said I was, but I don’t carry a card. The young lady said, “That’s OK, we don’t check ID’s anyway.” My phone battery was about drained, so Martha asked if they had a charge cord. The man rummaged around in the back and found one.
I charged it as we watched a fast paced movie of the history of the island. The Ojibwe people had some disagreement and the tribe split, half migrating west, ending up in these islands. They built their beautiful birchbark canoes, sliding through a great marsh while thrashing wild rice into the boats. Fishing and hunting were great.
The white men came, trading furs. The Jesuit priests came, and then the tourists came in summers. Like most museums, it’s hard to take it all in, but I was intrigued by the boats. There were tools, starting with the Ojibwe, then the early European settlers. I liked the coffee roaster.
Walking back to the original museum, a man dressed in early settler attire, greeted us. This building was like an old cabin. Actually, the man said, it was three buildings combined – a cabin, the original jail, and something else that was brought in.
I asked what the difference was between the Chippewa and Ojibwe. He said they are the same people, but the Chippewa had a different way of sewing their moccasins. Hanging on one room was a sleigh, older than ours, but very similar. It’s a great museum. We thanked them and put a 20 in the donation box.
We walked a couple of blocks to the bike shop. A very large crowd gathered at a municipal building. It seemed like the whole town was there. A couple of doors down was another crowded place with a different atmosphere.
At the bike shop, mopeds and electric bikes were lined up outside, but the door was locked. Martha went next door to ask. They said there was a funeral that many people in town were attending. That accounted for one of the large gatherings we had seen. This seemed a great way to see the island. Perhaps another day.
The town map showed a trail across part of the island, so we walked up the main road with yellow lines down the middle and a fair amount of traffic. Heck, it was as large at the Trans-Canada highway!
It took us 20 minutes to get to the Capser Trail, a well-maintained trail through a pretty forest. A couple of loops would make a longer hike, but we weren’t up for that. Early on, it went through a beautiful stand of big white birch trees, and later what I thought were black birch, but my plant identifier app said they were big quaking aspen.
We came out to another road and followed it to the ferry. Our timing was good. There was only a short wait. We sat next to a gregarious couple. They were celebrating his 80th birthday with their children, and had been to Tom’s Burned Down Cafe. Tom’s is apparently a famous place, but it burned down. After some time, Tom bought a trailer and opened back up, saying, “I ain’t done yet.”
They had been drinking Bloody Marys, and although not drunk by any measure, he was talkative. They have been coming here from the St. Croix area for years. They had a sailboat and love sailing these islands. “Best place to sail in the world!” He pointed out a boat in the distance that they sailed yesterday. The boats were sailing against the wind now, moving slowly.
The wife asked us where we had been and where we were going. She suggested following the Mississippi River south. She said it is quite pretty, and there is a lot of history. I thanked her and said I would look into that. She also said to go to the little town of Cornucopia, just west of our campground.
Back on land, we walked back up through the busy, little town of Bayfield to the truck. It was only 2:30, so we drove to Cornucopia just to get a preview. There is a busy marina on the north side of the highway. We turned left to find a “town” composed of 5 buildings. the interesting one was a very large general store. I’m quite sure that would be interesting, but having gotten up this morning at 3:00, I was pretty tired.
We turned left at the stop sign to see the rest of the town, but there wasn’t any. We were getting ready to turn around when we saw a sign for Siskiwit Waterfall. We were the only ones in the parking lot, but as we walked down a pretty, little trail, we saw people on the other side on another trail.
It was a very unique cascading waterfall over solid rock. I don’t know how far this goes, but we followed it for 300 yards. A sign posted limits for trout and salmon. The river was crystal clear and depth would be measured in inches. Looking up the name later, I would find a site for “18 Waterfall Hikes Near Cornucopia!”
Heading back to camp, we stopped at Myer’s Beach in Apostle Islands National Park. Cars had filled the parking lot and spilled out along the entrance road. It was Saturday, sunny and warm, but hardly swimming weather. A large sign warned of the dangers of kayaking here. If you turn over, you have limited time to get upright. In 30 minutes your hands and feet will get numb. In an hour you will lose consciousness. Martha read another warning for the current lake water temperature. It was 47 degrees!
But another part of the sign showed the attraction, and a large part of the attraction of the Apostle Islands – sea caves, arches and tunnels. Several kayaks were returning from their trip. The beach is very long and pretty.
The drive back to camp didn’t seem so long, and we saw 6 more turkeys. Now I was very tired. Martha made a very nice dinner of pork chops and cooked the mushrooms with peas in butter. Yum!
Walkie told us to return in the morning so he could install a new air filter and clean the sensors. He called in an order for the filter yesterday, saying it would be delivered about 9:00. We arrived at 9:45. I wondered how he could get reliable deliveries in his remote location on Fire Tower Road.
It was a little cooler this morning – about 60 degrees. His garage door was closed, so I walked around to the side door admiring an old Ford truck parked beside it. The shop was warm and soft music was playing. Two trucks were parked inside and Walkie slid out from under the one on the right. I told him to finish what he was doing, but he said, “I got the filter. Let’s go put it in.”
I asked why he doesn’t have a lift or two. “I can’t because the floor is heated. Besides I like working on the floor. Keeps me limber.” He grabbed the filter and an old, wire milk grate to which he had neatly attached a board. He used that as his step stool.
Outside I popped the hood. He went to work loosening the cover as he explained what he was doing. “Big engine like this needs air, a lot of air. Restrict the air and she won’t burn right. We’ll clean the sensors. They can get dirty too.” I asked if we could just take all this stuff off. “Sure, we do it all the time. The military trucks don’t have it. Many state and police trucks don’t have it. Imagine a military truck in combat and it suddenly gets throttled back like yours because a sensor was dusty.”
He replaced the filter and tore off the label from the box and handed it to me. “You should do this regularly.” He went inside to get a can of spray sensor cleaner. I should have videoed the whole thing. He was talking while he removed three or four sensors and sprayed them all. “These things get dust and dirt in them and should be cleaned every time you change the filter.” I took the old filter and the box inside and put them in the trash in the back of the shop. There were cans of Stella Artois in the bottom.
I had wondered if changing a air filter could solve my problem, but Walkie was changing my mind. He said, “These things add up. Could be several things that lead to the overall problem. We’ll test it and see if the codes come back. If not, we’ll have to run the exhaust clean program. I hate to do it, because it runs the engine so hard.”
He hooks up his computer to the truck and starts it. “Using a computer to talk to the truck’s computer! Crazy isn’t it?” He deleted the codes. Although I was standing right next to him, I couldn’t read the screen, but the computer reads the codes and gives suggestions for treatment. Every time he deleted them, the codes came back.
Throttling back power.
Check engine light.
Door open.
Hood up.
“Well we are going to have to do a regen. If that doesn’t solve it, you will have to take it to a dealer.” “OK, I said. As he started it, I told him they did that after they installed the catalytic converter. “Oh,” he said. The regeneration runs the engine, building to 2600 rpm’s. He went around back to check the exhaust. “Sometimes smoke will come pouring out.”
This was about a 20-minute procedure as Walkie thumbed through the computer looking for readings for exhaust carbon content, but couldn’t find it. “GMC won’t give people like me the software. I can use generic software, but it doesn’t tell me everything. Ford gives us all the software. Dodge doesn’t give us the software either. I like Ford. They have their problems too, but at least I have access to all the tools.”
As we sat waiting, I asked him about the Ford truck next to the door. Sometimes a truck passes the beaten-up look and goes into a level of respect just because you know it has endured a lot. “That’s my truck,” he said. “It’s an ’03. It has 400,000 miles on it. That rust is what all the salt does to it. I drive it every day – use it for plowing snow too.” It too was a diesel.
I asked how he learned all this stuff. So many mechanics come from dealers. “My dad was a mechanic, had a shop. I learned from him and many of the old timers.” He’s a very neat mechanic. His yard is clean and neat. The shop is clean. His work on the bench and under the hoods is neat and clean.
Finally the regen was complete, and he cleared all the codes. “Take it for a drive and see if they come back. He shoved the computer on the dash and went in the shop. I hesitated backing up, wondering if he was coming with me. I started to back out when he came out of the shop and got into the passenger seat.
“Let’s go down through Bayfield and back up the other side. There’s a steep hill over there.” Apple orchards were on both sides of the road. “You don’t want to be here during the Apple Harvest Festival. Way too many people.” As we passed by the little town, he said, “Look at all the people. Wonder what’s going on.” We went up the steep hill with ease, no engine light, no throttling back. I told him we had seen 9 turkeys this morning. “We have lots of turkeys, and more every year.”
“Turn at the trash can. That’s my road.” I was grinning as we pulled up to the shop, giving him a fist bump. “Well, it could come back, but you’ll be here for a few days. Just come back if the problem continues.” I asked how much I could pay him. “I’ll just charge one hour – $150,” he said. “Well, that’s not enough,” I replied. “That’s enough.”
It was now 11:30 or so. That’s four and a half hours including yesterday, not to mention letting me watch while he was teaching like a college professor! I had given Martha all the cash I had. She had been sitting comfortable in the back of the shop the whole time. She said it was in the truck. so I went out to get $300, adding another $40 from my wallet. I grabbed the two six-packs of Stella Artois and went back in.
I didn’t see Walkie, but Martha said he went out back to open the dumpster. He has had a bear getting into it, so he put a bar across it. I gave him the cash and Stella, thanking him profusely. Looking at the Stella, he said, “Maybe I’ll start on it now.” I waived and smiled as we left. I felt like I was walking away from a good friend.
We drove into Bayfield, thinking we could make the 12:00 cruise, but the wind was so bad, they were cancelling. Very nice people in there. I especially liked the guy for his understated humor. I asked if Captain Gilligan was going out tomorrow. That was not the captain’s name, just what he called that cruise because it was an old boat, taking twice the time to do the cruise. I asked him for a lunch recommendation. Never looking up from the computer work he was doing, he said Manypenny Bistro, “because they have a variety of things.”
Oddly, we had parked right beside it. After much deliberation, we ordered a 10” pizza, called “The Works”, a beer and coffee. Martha asked the young waiter if it would be enough. “Oh yes.” Perhaps he thought it was just for Martha. Best pizza I have ever had….. well, there was a deep dish pizza in Chicago years ago. It had pepperoni, Italian sausage, onion, mushrooms, green olives and mozzarella. Then he put down a nicely-organized box of condiments. Martha put red pepper on hers, while I used parmesan.
Across the street, we looked around a cute little shop, buying a candle, a card and chewing gum.
Raven has stolen someone’s keys
We were relieved to be through with this truck problem. Of course it could come back, but I doubt it. Really, I got a little choked up thinking about it. What a special guy he was! How did we stumble onto him? Martha said, “Well we might as well go get the oil changed.” Walkie had recommended Quick Lube or Walmart. He couldn’t do it because he didn’t have a lift. “Also stop at Ron’s Auto Repair, but he’s busy.
We came to Ron’s first. There was a graveyard of ancient vehicles scattered around a yard that was very cool. Going up one more driveway, we came to the shop. There was a whole lineup of all sorts of vehicles. I knew we had no chance. As we walked toward the garage, Ron met us. “Can I help you?” I asked if he could do an oil change, and he said, “Come on in and let’s see.”
A man sat in a line of chairs, and a lady in a separate room looked up. I greeted both as Ron thumbed through his scheduling book, sighing. “Can you come on the 30th?” We said we would only be here three days. He thumbed and sighed some more. We said we understand, and did he have a suggestion, telling him Walkie had sent us here along with his other suggestions. He smiled at the name and said to try “Superior” first.
He walked us back out. I stared at a nice, little sailboat beside the shop. “A guy dropped that here, leaving a note to fix the brakes on the trailer. Didn’t matter when we got to it. A lady left that golf cart. She’s an attorney. I told her we don’t work on golf carts, but she said ‘you will mine.’”
In Ashland we drove main street, looking for Superior Auto, but only found it on the second pass. Mike greeted us, asking how he could help. I asked if they could do an oil change on this diesel truck. He looked quite perplexed, finally saying, “Well I won’t be able to put it on the lift with that kayak on top.” I told him that was no problem, we can take it off. “OK, pull it around back.” I drove around back. Before I could get out of the truck a young man was on the back loosening the straps. I took the other one off and he picked up the kayak and handed it to me. Martha and I both grabbed it and set it down. He hopped down and set the ties on the ground.
Another man, Greg, came out to drive onto the lift. I said Hi Greg and said that’s why he’s such a handsome guy. “Liar,” he smiled. Before I knew it, the truck was on the rack, so we walked through the 3-bay shop to the office. “What kind of oil have they been putting in,” he asked. “I don’t know.” I asked him to put the best stuff in. He suggested a synthetic that would last 10,000 miles, and I agreed. Staring at windshield wipers on the wall, I asked him to put those on. He grabbed two and took them to his workers.
Several people came in for work or to schedule work. Everyone seemed to know Mike, and he knew them. Several packages came, a receipt exchanged, and they were gone. Mike likes to fish, putting in on several bays. He said it was quiet, peaceful out there on the water, cruising between the islands. He catches lake trout, brown trout and salmon, though not many salmon, and they’re not too bit, maybe 30”! The brown trout can be 30” or more and taste as good as the small ones. He also catches large brook trout, “Coasters, you know.”
In short order they were done. I thanked Mike very much, paid the bill and walked through the shop. The kid had already put the kayak on the rack. We talked as I tightened the back strap. He is a duck hunter. The mostly shoot wood ducks and geese. “We have a lot of geese….and swans. Can’t shoot the swans though.” I turned around and he had gone back to work.
My goodness, I thought as we drove back in a truck that was running great and oil that was good for 10,000 miles. My GMC dealer has me back every 5,000 miles. We passed a national wildlife preserve and stopped at a historic marker about Madeline Island and how it was named. We took a “wrong turn”, driving “The Fruit Loop,” with apple orchards, blueberry farms, cherry farms and wineries, seeing another 9 turkeys. What a great day it was!
Exploring Rt. 61, we drove south to Split Rock Lighthouse, an icon of the western shore of Lake Superior.
“Standing as a sentinel on the North Shore, the Split Rock Lighthouse was built in 1910 in direct response to the catastrophic gale of November 1905 that wrecked nearly 30 ships along Lake Superior’s coastline. Over time, the Split Rock Lighthouse became known as the “Guardian of Lake Superior.” This lighthouse played a significant role in preserving lives and preventing further disasters. From https://goodhomegarden.com/facts-about-split-rock/. After it was built, not another ship was lost at that location.
Housing for lighthouse keepers
From the website showing split rock
From there we drove south to Gooseberry State Park and drove through their very nice campground with a great-looking shower house. We were going to look at Gooseberry Falls, but couldn’t quite figure out where to park, so we went on south.
There are two tunnels, cut right through granite walls. There is an overlook before the first, so we stopped. Walking up to the side of the cliff, there was a group of climbers making their way up the wall. Views of the lake were great. Our entire time in Minnesota has been wrapped in fog. As we drove through the second tunnel, the sky was clear blue!
Minnesota and Michigan are known for their pies. After one restaurant touting their pies, we pulled into Betty’s Pies. There was a takeout window on the side. Although it was crowded, they were very efficient, and we were seated shortly.
A very nice waitress named Colleen acted like she had all the time in the world answering questions and taking our order. After much discussion we split a club sandwich, which was very good. It still surprises me when I see this on a menu, as I thought the only place to get a club sandwich was at Farmington Country Club, where I had many.
tomato Basil
The big decision, requiring a lot of discussion and questions for Colleen, was what kind of pie should we order. I mean there was a tote board on the wall listing all the pies. Bumbleberry is my very favorite, but a note beside it said, “Coming soon.” I asked Colleen what that meant. She said she would check with the baker.
Well it could be Key Lime pie, but we are not in the Keys, and surely they don’t have Key limes. Then there was a raspberry rhubarb, which sounded wonderful. They also had strawberry rhubarb, another favorite, but I have never had a raspberry rhubarb. Of course there was apple, but Martha makes a great apple pie.
The board now noted they were out of Coconut Cream Pie. Colleen said the Bumbleberry would be ready in an hour. We settled on Great Lakes Crunch, with apple, blueberry, rhubarb, strawberry and and raspberry. $5.25 a slice, $22.50 for whole pie, $59 to ship, and they ship all over the country.
We were filled from the club sandwich, so we took our pie to go. We asked Colleen how to get to Scenic 61. She said go to the second K station and turn left at the liquor store, adding “It’s a beautiful drive.” Great place, great service, great food in the Great Lakes.
We drove the cute town of Two Harbors, and turned left at The Bottle Shop, a unique name for a liquor store. We were surprised to see a big, straight road that we could drive while pulling the Airstream. It was 3:30 and we had an hour drive back to Finland, so we cut over to the 4-lane expressway with a 65 mph speed limit that ends in Two Harbors.
Back in Finland, we went into the General Store. There was a group of about 8 people sitting on the porch talking about tires. It turns out they were talking about bike tires, and these were serious bikers, traveling distances. The store had some of everything – food, drinks, motor oil, an electric section, car section, plumbing and more. We bought some authentic Finnish Snacking Toast in cinnamon raisin flavor, of which there were several.
Martha made an excellent salad for dinner. We nuked the pie and shared it. The Great Lakes Crunch was great. We rated it a 10.
We straightened up, hooked up, dumped, filled the fresh water tank and were on the road by 8:30. TCan 11 wasn’t so daunting heading back east. The road reconnected with TCan 17 west of Thunder Bay. Before the city, we turned south on 61. It was unexpectedly different and beautiful. Great farmland adorned both sides of the road before winding its way through small mountains and valleys. We crossed lovely streams and creeks.
Finally, we wound our way down to the border. “Where do you live,” the agent asked. “Did you buy anything?” “Alcohol? How long have you been in Canada? Where are you going? Have a nice trip.”
At first the road was similar, but by Grand Marais, it got busy. It was socked in with fog, so we couldn’t see the sights of Lake Superior on the left. There were lots of lodges, especially on the lake side. Cabins sat right on the lake, with some sitting 50-100 feet above it. We had a nice lunch at The Sisters’ Restaurant. I had a walleye sandwich while Martha had a whitefish sandwich. Both were good.
Next door, we did a little grocery shopping. A car wash across the street that would accommodate a trailer tempted me, but we opted to move on. Hiking in Tettegouche State Park is highly-rated, so I wanted to stay in Baptism River Campground in the park. The website was confusing, and I thought it was a first come, first serve campground. When we pulled into the packed Visitor’s Center, I knew it wasn’t good. Wednesday, and it was a very busy place.
We drove across a very narrow bridge and followed a very rough road to the campground. We asked a lady, who was walking from the shower house if it was first come, first serve. She said no, you have to go to the Visitor’s Center and book it. No sites were available, so we drove down 61 to Silver Bay and the Black Beach Municipal Park. We booked two nights. It was completely full on the coming weekend. We were glad to have a place to stay for the night. Too many people, but we will try some of the hikes in Tettegouche.
If I could catch as many fish as I took flower pictures, I would be in paradise. Similar to Big Meadows in Shenandoah National Park, you could take pictures in all seasons and they would be different. We didn’t see any bears or signs of bears, but surely they are here. There are lots of deer and rabbits, but they are both wary of people. In Big Meadows, you can walk right up to them, and bear are plentiful.
Expert photographer, Mark Zablotsky, recommended an app to identify flowers – Picture This, and it is great. You have to have internet, of which there is none in Hidden Valley, but when you get home, I just took a picture of a picture and it quickly identifies a plant, tells you the origin, uses, how it might be used in your home garden and much more.
With a macro lens or a phone, you can get good pictures of flowers. The difficulty is getting pictures of a bunch of flowers and to get them in focus. Looking into photostacking.
The Jackson River Trail is approximately 16 miles long following the Jackson River flowing south from Cedar Creek To downtown Covington, Virginia. We wanted to ride from Cedar Creek down, but that section isn’t finished yet, so we went down to Natural Well, first riding north as far as we could, then riding south for about an hour before turning around. It is a beautiful trail with great scenery of farmland and the Jackson River. We talked to a few people, but mostly we had it to ourselves.
After loading the bikes in the truck we drove up the mountain to explore Lake Moomaw from the east side. There is a very nice campground with shower houses at the top of the mountain with very few people there. Driving down the mountain, we found a beautiful sandy beach with only two people there on a hot July day. At the bottom of the mountain the road ended at the bottom of the Gathright Dam, which should be a great tailwater fishery, but I think there is only a short section that you can fish. Not far down is a beautiful private property.
Lake Moomaw is 2,530-acre cold water lake fed and drained by the Jackson River. It boasts 40 miles of undeveloped shoreline. There is a nice campground on the other side as well.
We chilled back at camp for a couple of hours before exploring the bird trail in Hidden Valley. I was surprised by the numbers of birds in trees surrounding a marshy-looking low area. Like the day before, we were amazed at the variety of wildflowers that were worked by bees and butterflies. An ebird list of Hidden Valley birds identified 127 species! Sadly, in a perfect setting, not one quail was noted. Maybe next time I will take the big lens, a tripod, water and some snacks and sit on a bench.
I have been to Hidden Valley several times to fish the Jackson River, but I wanted to return to explore more of the area. A beautiful B&B, Warwickton built in 1848, sits in the heart of the property, but I love staying in the campground with our Airstream. The campsite fee is $15, and is only half of that with a Senior National Park Pass. Originally I was going by myself, since Martha was going to Africa with her girl friends. However, the flight was cancelled, so they returned home from Atlanta. Well, it isn’t Africa, but she decided to come along and discover Hidden Valley.
After loading groceries and clothes, we got an early start for a pretty two-hour drive to Warm Springs. We drove around the campground a couple of times to select a site, which is difficult because they are all nice. We got setup, fixed some lunch and went for a walk. there are about 200 acres of “hay fields” that are just loaded with wildflowers. Well-maintained paths are cut around and through the fields. Butterflies and bees are busy gathering nectar from all the flowers. It was hot in the sun, even though it was about 8 degrees cooler than at home. The elevation is about 1,500′ with mountains surrounding it in 8,000 acres of George Washington National Forest. The Jackson River runs through the valley with 6.5 miles of river. Connecting to the north is Poor Farm, offering more river frontage and dispersed camping. My goal for tomorrow was to hike to Poor Farm along the river, crossing the swinging bridge. On Wednesday I wanted to bike the Jackson Trail, a rails-to-trails, well-developed trail along the Jackson River.
Trying to keep things simple, we just brought the Cobb Stove, a small grill that uses 6-10 lumps of charcoal. Martha is a great camp cook, cooking chicken for me, a pork chop for her and a riot of peppers, onions and squash. It was wonderful. There is no cell phone service in the valley and no radio or TV reception. It is interesting to spend four days without things we feel are “essential”. I had a new book by Kelly Sutton, A River Runs Through It Outdoor Reflections. I finished that the first day, and found it quite entertaining. We have been hunting and fishing together for a very long time. You can find his book on Amazon.
I get up early every day, but I slept till 5:00, which is quite good for me. With all the windows open, it had cooled to about 69 degrees, which was perfect with a sheet. Birds were waking and talking to each other, so I crept out to the field to look for a deer or perhaps a bear, but no such luck. We knew it was going to be a hot day for an 8-mile round trip hike, so we filled the water bottles and packed some granola bars and sandwiches. We were off by 7:15.
We drove up to the trail head in front of the elegant Warwickton. Our phones would have to do for cameras today. We had already seen four deer and several rabbits. The grass was wet with dew, and it was a beautiful morning for a hike. Deer, rabbits, butterflies and bees were everywhere. After two hay fields, we were in the forest, nice and cool. It took about 45 minutes to get to the first bridge, where I went straight toward Muddy Run. The trail followed it along until it crossed the now small stream. We saw a blaze on a tree on the other side, so we crossed, but were unable to follow the trail. Disappointed, we headed back down.
When we got to the bridge, we decided to cross and see where that went. It led back to the Jackson River and the famous swinging bridge. We paused in the middle to admire the beautiful river, then crossed to the other side. A sign pointed to the right to Poor Farm in 2.5 miles, but we had spent our energy going up Muddy Run. I turned around to cross back over the bridge when I was attacked by yellow jackets, quickly running back to the side. those little things just stick to you and keep stinging until you smack them off.
Well, fortunately the path went in both directions, so we headed downstream, hoping to end up at Warwickton. With no phone service and no map, we weren’t really sure where we were going, but hopefully not up and over the mountain to Back Creek. As long as it followed the river, we should be good, but we were on the mountain side, so it went up and down on a narrow trail.
After a lot of trekking, we indeed found ourselves in front of Warwickton. Crossing a bridge we saw a man leading people on a horse ride. Now THAT’S the way to do it! We talked to him for a bit, getting his information before they jogged on. We were tired, hungry and thirsty by the time we got back to camp, but it was all good, except for a bunch of itching bee stings.
