Day One in Ireland

July 18, 2024 / mariezhuikov / 16 Comments

To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labor. — Robert Louis Stevenson

I’ve been radio silent for a while. That’s because Russ and I have been meandering around Ireland and Scotland for three weeks. Like Stevenson’s quote above (which I came to learn on this trip), our travels involved a lot of labor and lost baggage, but we remained hopeful and didn’t let it get us down. The good experiences we had far outweighed the difficult.

Belfast was the goal of our first travel day. Alas, we only made it from Duluth to Minneapolis. We boarded our Belfast-bound connecting Delta flight in Minneapolis, giddy that our long-awaited trip was finally happening.

After we backed away from the gate, the pilot announced that one of the engines was doing something weird. He ran some tests and then needed a new part or a sensor, so we got off the plane until that arrived. The clerks kept saying we’d reboard in the next half hour, then it was the next half hour, then the next. By this time, it was past midnight. Suddenly, the announcement came that the flight crew had timed out, so we weren’t going anywhere.

After spending an hour in line to get rebooked for the same flight the next evening, making a reservation at one of the hotels Delta recommended, and then being denied our luggage because the baggage handlers had all gone home, we caught a hotel shuttle. We flopped into bed, bedraggled and bemused at 2:30 a.m.

The next day, we arrived back at the Minneapolis Airport in plenty of time. We explored the shops and probably walked down every gate there was just for some exercise. We even discovered we could have slept overnight in the airport had we wanted. On the second floor, there’s a “Quiet Room” with sleeping pads and cushions. Good to remember should we ever find ourselves in a similar situation! But I’m glad we had a hotel room.

Once we arrived in Belfast, our luggage was missing. After filing a report, we made our way to our hotel, even more bedraggled and more sad than bemused. Little did we know, it would be two more days before our luggage showed up.

We felt like we needed to make up for lost time, so our first day in Belfast was very active, despite jetlag. Our first stop was the Botanic Gardens, a free activity that we could walk to from our hotel. A statue of Lord Kelvin greeted us once we passed through the gate. He was born in Belfast and is best known for his discovery of absolute zero. The gardens have a Victorian feel to them and offer several greenhouses to walk through, and even a Ferris wheel to ride.

On the edge of the gardens is the Ulster Museum, another free venue. If you’re not aware, the term “ulster” translates as ‘Land of the Ulaidh,’ the ancient kings and their people that ruled over most of the north of Ireland in pre-Norman times. The region of Northern Ireland is known as Ulster. Its proximity to Scotland made it relatively easy for many Scots to migrate there.

The museum explores the past, present, and future through art, natural science and history. It sported huge wicker dragons, a replica of an extinct Irish elk, and two famous paintings by Caravaggio. Apparently, pick pockets patrol the room where patrons are distracted by these paintings. The docents asked us to put our backpacks on the front of our body to discourage theft.

Back at our hotel, we booked a cab to Belfast Castle, which is situated high on a hill overlooking the city. Unfortunately, we couldn’t go inside it because the castle was booked for a private event, but we were satisfied to walk around the grounds and eat scones for lunch in the cellar café.

One of the blogs I follow offers great information about the castle, if you’d like to learn more. It also features a photo of the interior. We loved the cat-themed garden.

Back at our hotel again, we asked the concierge about booking a Sectarian taxi tour. These tours take you into the heart of the parts of Belfast where “the troubles” erupted in the late 1960s and lasted until the late 1990s. Both Russ and I had read, “Say Nothing,” a book about the troubles and were interested in seeing the areas described in it.

The concierge said she knew someone who could take us and that he had “a very nice van.” And that he would answer all our questions. He did, indeed, have a very nice van (a Mercedes) but his presentation was a bit jumbled. It didn’t help that he had a food smudge on his cheek the whole time and that spit balls gathered on his lower lip. That made it hard to listen to him, but he did tell us many personal stories about growing up in those times and he took us to all the different areas: Protestant, Catholic, and Loyalist. He also told us that everything he said was “deniable,” so, it was hard to know how seriously to take him.

*The Peace Wall in Belfast, one of the sights on our sectarian taxi tour.* *The wall separates Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods in the city.*

Back at the hotel again, we walked down the street in search of some supper. The place we chose was right across from the Belfast Police Department. The police are housed in a very impressive structure. All it lacks is a moat. I’ve never seen such a well-fortified modern building! But, of course, they’ve needed the security with all the conflicts of the past. There’s peace now, but as our tour guide and several other people told us, it’s an uneasy peace.

Whew! That was quite a first day in Ireland. Next up: The Titanic Museum and the Maritime Trail.

*The Belfast Police Department Building*

Spring and Newton’s Apple Tree

May 9, 2024 / mariezhuikov / 10 Comments

I traveled to Madison, Wisconsin, this week for a water symposium on the university campus. As I walked back to my hotel from the event, I passed the university’s botany garden. On a whim, I meandered off course a few steps and entered.

Although it was too early in the season for everything to be blooming, enough flowers were showing to keep me moving through. Sculptures with botany themes were scattered throughout the small but pretty garden.

One plant and plaque stopped me in my tracks: a picturesque apple tree surrounded by a fence. The tree sported white blossoms and looked older than its 23 Years. Reading the sign, I learned that the tree, planted in 2001, is a direct descendant of the original tree that bore the fruit which inspired Sir Isaac Newton’s Theory of Gravitational Forces.

Huh. I always assumed that the whole apple falling on Newton’s head thing was a myth. But now here was living proof that the tree from which said apple fell not only could be identified, but its offspring was living in Madison!

The plaque said the original “Newton Apple Tree” grows on the grounds of the National Institute of Standards and Technology. But that institute is in the United States (in Maryland). I thought Newton made his discovery in England.

So, in writing this post, I did some digging. The institute tree the Madison tree is grafted from was a clone. Alas, the clone fell over and died about a year ago “due to unknown reasons” according to Wikipedia.

*Tulips and a crabapple tree were in bloom in UW-Madison’s Botany Garden. The person in the image is taking a picture of the tulips from below.*

The actual original Newton tree grew in the 1600s on the grounds of the English manor where Newton was raised. The Woolsthrope Manor tree has died, but its descendants and clones live on at the manor and many other places around the world.

The story of the apple inspiring Newton’s theory gained public visibility when Newton’s niece related it to Voltaire, who included it in an essay. The apple, however, did not fall on Newton’s head. That is a silly myth.

The Madison tree was planted in honor of F. James Sensenbrenner, chair of the U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Science (1995-2000). Sensenbrenner was a Republican congressman from Wisconsin and a graduate of UW-Madison. From the plaque text, it sounds like Sensenbrenner presented the tree to the university himself in hopes that “the fruit of this descendant inspires others to partake in scientific discovery.” This strikes me as rather self-aggrandizing, but it was a nice gesture, no doubt accompanied by some additional funds.

As if having a copy of the Newton tree isn’t enough, the UW-Madison Botany Garden was the first in the world to be based on the new Angiosperm Phylogeny Group system of molecular classification of plants. I don’t really know what that means but if you visit the garden’s webpage, there’s a chart about that.

As I continued my walk through the garden, I envied the Madisonians their warm breezes and blooms. In northern Minnesota, our daffodils are just beginning to show. It will take us about three weeks to catch up to the plants in Madison. Sigh. But this way, lucky me experiences two blooming seasons and that’s just fine.

I exited the garden, glad for my little educational and botanical detour and that I’d have something to share with you. And now you know more than you probably ever wanted about Newton’s apple tree!

Artist’s Point, Grand Marais MN

April 27, 2024 / mariezhuikov / 23 Comments

When last we met, Russ and I were in Grand Marais along the shores of Lake Superior for an afternoon photo reception at their local health facility. We decided to stay overnight after the reception and take a little photo expedition the next morning to a scenic spot on the harbor.

As we ate supper at the Gunflint Tavern, I came up with the bright idea to do a reconnaissance mission to the spot to prepare for the next day’s shot. I hadn’t been to Artist’s Point in several years and wanted a refresher. The sun was still up so we’d be able to see okay to walk along the break walls and rocky coast.

I must admit that I had a glass of wine with supper and then for dessert, a brandy old fashioned cocktail. Although the food at the tavern was lovely, that cocktail was truly memorable! A brandy old fashioned is made with muddled (smashed) maraschino cherries and orange slices. (For a photo, see this post.)

I don’t know what kind of cherries the tavern used, but they took the drink to a whole new level! They were dark maroon and tasted divine. I know they weren’t Amaro-soaked cherries because I’ve had those before. I wish I had asked our waitress what they were, but I didn’t.

Thus fortified, and wearing high-heeled boots, I ventured with Russ to the harbor. I didn’t even have my Nikon along (that was back at our inn), only my cell phone.

I clambered up on the break wall, but Russ refused. He’d had a drink with dinner, too, and didn’t trust his balance enough to join me. I, however, found that my dessert made me not really care that I was up on a rocky wall in high heels. Plus, the views! I immediately became inspired and started snapping away on my phone, wandering this way and that for the best views.

What was intended as a simple reconnaissance turned into a photo shoot in its own right. Here’s a gallery of my results.

I clambered off with wall none the worse for wear and we headed to our inn for a rousing card game. We slumbered until Civil Dawn – that time just before the sun rises. In our case, that was 5:30 a.m., much earlier than we usually wake.

We quickly dressed in gear appropriate for temperatures in the mid-40s. I gathered my tripod and camera and we drove down the hill a short way to Artist’s Point. The area is named for its picturesque views. Painters can often be found there.

The sky over Lake Superior began turning a light orange as the sun prepared to make its appearance. Songbirds were singing, mallards quacking. Shorebirds flitted from rock to rock in front of me on the beach. The air was calm.

The sun wasn’t rising close to the island where I hoped it would be, so I set up my tripod on the beach and started taking photos. As the sunrise progressed, I found some large rocks and old wooden pilings that made for an interesting foreground. I crouched for the best angle.

I stepped away from my camera a few times to enjoy the sunrise in its own right, without a viewfinder in front of it.

Then I made my way out to the point and the break wall. Russ stayed back again. By this time, the sun climbed higher, but it was too bright for a good photo against the island. Instead, I focused my efforts in the opposite direction — on the lighthouse in the harbor, which was lit by the reflection of the rising sun. As I shot, a gray fishing boat left for the deeps of the lake with a raucous chorus of gulls following in hopes of sharing the bounty to come.

As I was finishing, I noticed a man off to the side on the harbor shore. Was he a photographer, too? Was he seeing something I wasn’t? (Every photographer’s nightmare!)

Then I noticed he wasn’t holding a camera, but a fishing rod. Just an angler out catching breakfast before work.

My cold fingers told me it was time to stop taking photos, so I clambered off the wall and met up with Russ. We returned to our cozy inn, peaceful, inspired. Happy.

Lake Superior Skink Soup

March 30, 2024 / mariezhuikov / 15 Comments

*Cullen Skink soup, homemade bread and tea served at the Laird’s Kitchen* *in Delgatie Castle* (2016).

I know what you’re thinking – that is an unappetizing name for a soup! But there’s a reason behind it.

Back in 2016, when my friend Sharon and I traveled to Scotland, we became acquainted with Scotland’s version of chowder, thanks to some friendly people in a café in Gardenstown. The soup is called Cullen Skink and they said the best place to find it was Delgatie Castle, which was not too far away.

We took them up on the advice and ate lunch at the café in the basement and then toured the pinkish castle. We tried the soup, which is made with smoked haddock, potatoes, and onions – thus, a very white dish. It was served with homemade white bread slathered with butter. More whiteness!

*Delgatie Castle, Scotland, where I had my first Cullen* Skink.

The soup was very creamy and good. I am a chowderholic, so I loved it. The café is also known for its scones, which were lovely. The soup was invented in the Scottish town of Cullen. It was created from deprivation and want. The skink part of the name is usually reserved for soups in Scotland with ingredients like a shank of beef or ham. Having none of these on hand, smoked fish was used instead, but the name of “skink” stuck to it.

Cullen Skink has been described by The Guardian newspaper as “smokier and more assertive than American chowder, heartier than classical French bisque.” I agree.

The Scottish are proud of their skink, holding an annual Cullen Skink World Championships competition. The most recent event was just a couple of weeks ago in a hotel in Aberlour.

*Kellie Spooner, excited winner of the 2024 Cullen Skink World Championships. Image courtesy of NE Scotland BBC.*

During our trip, Sharon found a recipe in a travel guide and took a photo of it. I recently came across the image and decided to follow up on my long-ago plans to make the soup at home. The only problem is that smoked haddock is impossible to find in my neck of the woods. So, true to the original nature of Cullen Skink, I had to make do with what was at hand, and that was a Lake Superior smoked whitefish.

To make the soup even more white, I substituted white pepper for black pepper. For the milk, I used Carnation brand evaporated milk because it was on sale. But I had forgotten I can’t have it due to my intolerance to corn and any ingredients derived from corn. Carnation contains dextrose, which is derived from corn.

I had migraines for two days as I ate the soup and its leftovers, until I figured out the culprit. So, if you have a corn intolerance, keep that in mind! The generic brand of evaporated milk at my store is free of dextrose, so I will use that next time.

If you want to introduce a bit of color into the soup, I suggest using B-sized (new) red potatoes and not peeling them. The parsley also adds color.

I forgot to soak the smoked fish overnight in the milk beforehand, but it still came out tasting great! If you love chowder but are looking for something different, this is the soup for you.

Here’s my version, which I have named Lake Superior Skink to honor the fish from Lake Superior that I used. If you use a local fish species, feel free to call this recipe your own geographic version of skink. For instance, a version containing catfish could be called Mississippi River Skink. Yet another appetizing name!

For a another version of chowder, see my steelhead and clam chowder recipe.

Lake Superior Skink

(Inspired by Scottish Cullen Skink Soup)

Serves 4, wheat- and corn-free, gluten-free

2 Tablespoons butter
1 onion, diced
2 pints evaporated milk (approx. 3 cans) or whole milk
1-1/2 lbs potatoes, peeled and diced
1 lb smoked Lake Superior whitefish or lake trout
2 teaspoons dried parsley
sea salt and white pepper, to taste
lite sour cream

Soak fish in milk overnight to infuse extra smoky flavor into the broth.

Melt butter in a pan, add the onion and cook gently for 7-8 minutes until it is soft but not browned. Pour in the milk and bring to a simmer. Poach the smoked fish for 3-4 minutes until it is cooked and will flake easily.

Carefully lift the fish out onto a plate and leave it to cool slightly. Add the diced potatoes and simmer for about 20 minutes until soft. Blend some of the potatoes with a stick blender to thicken the soup a little. If you have a regular blender, put about a quarter of the soup into it, blend, then return to the pan.

When the fish is cool enough to handle, break it into flakes, discarding the skin and bones. Return the fish to the pan and stir in the parsley and spices. When serving, add sour cream as desired.

Having a Hygge Holiday

February 17, 2024 / mariezhuikov / 16 Comments

*One of the Croftville Cottages near Grand Marais, MN*

When Russ and I made reservations for a cabin on the shores of Lake Superior months ago, we envisioned a weekend getaway filled with cross-country skiing and listening to the roar of waves.

Well, we experienced only one of those things. Thanks to El Nino we have NO SNOW in northern Minnesota, or at least very little. We have not been skiing ONCE this season.

I thought I was cross-county-ski starved when I wrote this post in 2014, but that was nothing compared to what I’m feeling now! If it gets much worse, I might have to pay to ski on artificial snow at our local ski area.

So, we had to cast around for other things to do during our stay in Croftville and Grand Marais, MN. While researching, I discovered that Grand Marais is having a month-long hygge festival. What is “hygge” you ask? It’s pronounced hoo-gah and is a Danish word that means “creating a warm atmosphere and enjoying the good things in life with good people.” In fewer words, it means “cozy.” The events included a lodge fireplace tour, art shows, and saunas.

That sounded good to us, so off we went. We stayed at Croftville Cottages, which is just outside Grand Marais. Besides a main building with lovely condo-like apartments (where I’ve stayed for work) they offer three cottages on the lakeshore. Ours had two bedrooms and a full kitchen, plus two gas stoves for heat. We fell asleep to the roar of a gray and foamy Lake Superior crashing onto the black rocks.

*The log-powered sauna at Thomsonite Inn.*

We brought our own food along, so after a leisurely breakfast at the cabin, we headed into town to visit bookstores and chocolate shops.

Laden with books and maple truffles, we returned to the cabin for lunch and then drove a few miles to the Thomsonite Inn for a free sauna, courtesy of the Hygge Festival. I had been in touch with the inn beforehand via email to ensure that we didn’t need a reservation, and they said we could just show up.

When we arrived at the inn, the office was closed. Never having been there before, we weren’t sure where the sauna was located. But we found it after referring to a map posted near the office. A short walk down a trail toward the lake led us to the sauna, which was made from a shipping container and it sported a wood fireplace.

A group of twenty-somethings were exiting just as we arrived. Their bodies steamed as they toweled off in the twenty-eight-degree breeze. They said that our timing was perfect and that we’d have the sauna to ourselves.

*The sauna offered a view of Lake Superior.*

Russ and I looked for a changing room, but there was none. One of the young women said she just walked into a clump of nearby trees to change. Hmph! And did I mention that it was twenty-eight degrees outside??

We ended up changing behind the sauna. The ground was frozen, so I laid my winter coat down and changed atop it, wearing socks for the short trip to the sauna door, taking them off before I went inside. Although changing into our swimsuits outdoors was chilly, we had some hygge to look forward to!

The “youngsters” had added a log to the fire when the left, so the sauna was warm and toasty. For me, it was a bit too toasty. I had to step out every few minutes to cool off before going back inside. A large window looked out at Lake Superior, which had calmed during the night.

When we emerged, steaming, we felt lighter, somehow – both emotionally and physically.

*A large Thomsonite rock. Image courtesy of Lapidary Adventures.*

The inn sits on a beach known for its Thomsonite, a rare mineral formed eons ago via volcanic activity. The rocks are pink, tan, white, red, and brown — kind of like agates. Those with green or gray backgrounds and green “eyes” are the most prized. The beach was icy, so we didn’t plan to rock hunt, but I did manage to take a few shoreline photos once our sauna was over.

We drove back to town and visited two art galleries that feature local artists. So many talented people live here and it’s always inspiring to see their works.

After a quick stop back at our cabin for my camera, we drove north to Tombolo Island, which is located down a short section of the Superior Hiking Trail off the highway. Another photographer was there, also hoping to catch the sunset. He had a loud, mean dog that quickly made itself known to us. The photographer’s wife (I assume) came running after it to clip on a leash.

The Tombolo is a popular photo op. I think it has something to do with the curve of the beach, the dramatic rocks, the waves, and relative ease of access.

The other photographer was already set up with his tripod, so we walked behind him to another spot that wouldn’t be in his way. Then we waited for the sun to do its thing. Russ and I arrived plenty early since we had never been here before and weren’t sure how long it would take. I had forgotten my hand warmers, so after taking off my gloves a few times for practice shots, my fingers were plenty cold. I had my camera set up on a tripod and then walked around with my cell phone, taking photos from other locations that struck my fancy.

*Tombolo Island on Lake Superior’s North Shore*

The sun took its sweet time. The colors were muted but icy rocks provided some nice contrast and drama. I took pictures until my fingers insisted that it was time to go. Famished, we walked back to the car, looking forward to a homemade dinner at the cabin.

We cooked up a porterhouse steak and baked potatoes (with sour cream and chives). For dessert, we made a chocolate lava cake for two, complete with vanilla ice cream. Heavenly!

The next morning, after a short walk on the road along the shore, we headed home. Although we didn’t have snow to play in on our trip, at least we had hygge, and that was plenty good.

Northern Dreams

February 15, 2024 / mariezhuikov / 15 Comments

This is one of my favorite photos from a recent meander north to Grand Marais, MN. I was hoping for good sunset photos, but the colors weren’t cooperating. After standing outside in the frigid cold for an hour, and with fingers beginning to numb, I snapped this one last photo of Tombolo Island in Lake Superior.

I love the blurry water and the placement of the driftwood. The cynical part of me wonders if some other photographer placed it on the shore for effect. All I know is that I didn’t do it! So I’ll pretend that it just washed up on the rocky beach.

No sunset colors? Turn the photo into a black and white! So moody. I love this lake and hope that shows.

Musical Phoenix

December 29, 2023 / mariezhuikov / 13 Comments

*Phoenix’s Musical Instrument Museum. Image courtesy of the Musical Instrument Museum*

During our recent meanderings in Arizona, we visited the Musical Instrument Museum in Phoenix. Russ and I enjoy music, both listening and playing, so the museum naturally intrigued us.

This musical museum offers two floors filled with 4,200 instruments from across the world. The CEO of the Target department store corporation founded it to highlight more than just western classical instruments (which are found in many other museums). Robert Ulrich wanted to focus on instruments played by everyday people across the globe. The museum’s motto is: Music is the language of the soul.

The museum delivers on its mission and motto in spades! We could have easily spent an entire day perusing the exhibits. The upper floor has instruments from different geographic regions such as Asia, Europe, and Latin America. Tours are self-guided with an audio headset.

The lower level contains two of my favorite galleries. The Artist Gallery highlights famous musicians past and present, such as Prince and Johnny Cash. Each display features photos, music audio, and memorabilia. Prince’s had a purple piano from one of his tours. One unusual exhibit focuses on the theremin, an eerie electronic instrument played without any direct physical contact by the performer. Clara Rockmore was a theremin “virtuoso” featured.

My other favorite was the Experience Gallery. We were allowed to unleash our inner musicians in this room, which offers banjos to pluck, drums to beat, and gongs to gong.

The museum’s Mechanical Music Gallery shows self-playing pianos and the like. We arrived just in time for a demonstration of a wall-sized instrument called an orchestrion. It’s powered by compressed air and is like having a whole orchestra at the ready.

Until fall of 2024, the museum has a special exhibit called Acoustic America, which displays 90 iconic guitars, mandolins, and banjos that shaped American music since the Civil War. If you’re a stringed instrument-lover, you’ll have to check that out.

If you can’t just pick up and head to Phoenix, the museum provides this virtual tour.

We left the Musical Instrument Museum with many songs in our hearts.

Enchanted Phoenix

December 24, 2023 / mariezhuikov / 9 Comments

*The skating rink/trail and light display at Enchant in Phoenix*.

Russ and I meandered down to Phoenix, AZ, to visit relatives. One of our festive outings was to an outdoor baseball stadium (Salt River Fields) in the suburb of Scottsdale to a walk-through light display, called “Enchant.”

I must admit, I was a bit skeptical about the likelihood of experiencing a magical Christmas experience without snow and the cold, but I came away impressed by the scope and organization of the event.

We entered the gates and spent time wandering through a “village” with food vendors and booths selling Christmas wares. A trip down the stadium stairs took us to the light maze on the field. The maze’s theme is “mischievous.” One of Santa’s elves and his reindeer pal have misplaced toys meant for children on Christmas. The goal is to find all the missing toys in the maze so that children will receive them as presents.

We were delighted by the scenes around every corner in the maze. A gigantic Christmas tree dominates the center, surrounded by huge lighted up presents. There’s even a multi-colored “disco” floor where the light squares change color when stepped upon.

*People enjoying a warm fire and one of those light bulb drinks by the skating trail.*

Although it was about 45 degrees out, everyone was dressed like it was twenty below. Many people were walking around with drinks in lighted clear containers that resembled light bulbs. I asked one person what was in the drinks and they said something about vodka and strawberry juice.

The more adventurous in our party signed up to rent skates and try out the ice-skating trail. You need to sign up for a specific time so that the rink doesn’t get too crowded. I haven’t skated in about 7 years, but I was game to give it a try with my sixty-year-old legs. The skates were made of sturdy black plastic and are available in a huge variety of sizes. After signing accident waivers, we snapped on our skates and hit the trail with dozens of other people, many of whom had probably imbibed those light bulb drinks. Vodka and inexperienced skaters – probably not the best combination?

I was intrigued to see how Arizonians skate. You see, in Minnesota, most children learn to skate about the same time that they learn to walk. If their fathers are speedskating coaches like one of my children’s was, they are out on the ice even before they learn how to walk. That son was with us and he had no problem skating. His Arizonian girlfriend was another story, but she gave it a good try.

*Elves having fun on the changing-color disco floor.*

After a few wobbly steps, my skating instincts returned, and I was good to go. My main worry was avoiding out-of-control skaters. We witnessed many butt thumps on the ice and many people turning in circles when they wanted to skate forward. But everyone seemed to be having fun.

After skating around for about 20 minutes, we emerged unscathed from the trail. We spent more time exploring parts of the light maze we’d missed before. Afterward, we made our way back up the stadium stairs and visited more of the vendors.

There are other activities at Enchant as well. I think there’s a play, and there are various levels of tickets that people can purchase. Enchant is not only in Phoenix. It’s offered at six other cities, including Milwaukee and Las Vegas. The show goes on until December 31, so there’s still time to go if you haven’t already.

Bear Head Lake State Park

November 3, 2023 / mariezhuikov / 6 Comments

*One of the small docks along the shore of Bear Head Lake.*

Russ and I had only used our Scamp trailer once this summer (to Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore), so, we decided to get one more trip in before the snow began to fly. We chose Bear Head Lake State Park in northern Minnesota for several reasons: it was nearby, and we had passed the turnoff for it several times and wondered what it would be like to stay there. We were also intrigued because we’d heard that in 2010, it won the America’s Favorite Park contest. It must have something going for it!

We pulled into our site on a Friday evening. We chose a site on a loop that bordered the lakeshore. One thing that impressed us was that all campers have equal access to the shore. No sites are directly on the lake (they’re across the road from it), but there are several trails off the road that lead down to small docks that are perfect for fishing or lake-gazing.

*The beach at Bear Head Lake State Park.*

The air was warm for mid-October and the wind was calm. After our Spam and eggs supper, we took a walk on trails along the lake. The tamarack trees and aspens were still clothed in their splendid yellows. The trail ended at a beach surrounded by tall red pines. We’d find out later that these pines were spared during logging times because they were too small to be of interest. Good thing the place is a state park because they’d certainly be of interest to loggers now!

A Trail Center building nearby offered bathrooms and a warm place for hikers to gather before heading out on any one of the park’s 13 miles of paths. I discovered later that the impressive center was built thanks to the park’s standing in the 2010 contest, which was sponsored by Coca Cola. The park won $100,000, which they spent to build the center.

At the time, the park staff credited their win to Facebook and the power of social media because a popular bear frequented the park and people wanted to help draw attention to the bear’s home. The bear is no doubt long gone, but the Trail Center stands as a testament to the good will of social media strangers.

After our hike we enjoyed a fire (firewood is for sale at the park office). Our plans to hike the next day were disrupted by a steady drizzle. We opted to drive to Ely, Minnesota, instead. One of our stops was the Dorothy Molter Museum, which I described in my previous post. We also ended up getting a private tour of the Pioneer Mine Museum. Like the Dorothy Molter Museum, it was also open past Labor Day, contrary to its publicized operating season.

We didn’t intend to visit the Mine Museum. We began walking on a paved trail around Miner’s Lake but the steady drizzle and my failing health (I was catching the flu or something from Russ) made us turn around after a short jaunt.

As we neared our car in the parking lot of the Mine Museum, a man called to us from a building atop a nearby hill. He said the museum was open and he’d gladly give us a tour. Having nothing else better to do on a rainy day, we took him up on his offer.

The Pioneer Mine closed in 1967 and its payload was iron ore. The museum featured a plethora of artifacts and photos from its hey day. Our guide was Seraphine Rolando whose grandfather and other relatives had worked in the mine. Seraphine was a great storyteller and regaled us with tales of memorable rescues and descriptions of what it was like to work in the mine. Unlike the nearby Tower-Soudan Mine, the Pioneer Mine was wet, dirty, and much more hazardous.

Seraphine is a legend in his own right. I found this profile of him in the local Ely paper after I returned home. I easily remembered his name because one of my ancestors was named Seraphina, which must be the female version of his name.

*Seraphine Rolando in the mine museum. Image courtesy of Trip Advisor*

After our tour, we stopped at the Evergreen Restaurant in the Ely Grand Lodge for lunch. Interestingly, the lodge is built on a pile of mine tailings. The restaurant featured a beautiful view of Shagawa Lake and more golden trees.

Rain featured heavily on our next camping day, too. We ended up leaving for home a few hours early because I was now fully engulfed by the flu. But I recovered and am now ready for more meanderings.

Staying at Bear Head Lake State Park is like staying on a lake in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, but with more conveniences. Electric sites are available but not water hookups. A pump well is in the park and civilized toilet facilities are also available. They were closed during our visit, however, so we had to make do with an outhouse.

A final thing I wanted to mention was that one of our camping neighbors employed was using a leaf blower as they were packing up to leave. I suppose they were cleaning leaves off their outdoor carpet, or something. That was a new one on us – hearing a leaf blower at a campground. It’s bad enough hearing them at home, much less in a natural space. I sure hope this doesn’t become a trend!

*The view from Evergreen Restaurant in Ely, MN.*

The Root Beer Lady: A True Story

October 28, 2023 / mariezhuikov / 18 Comments

Once upon a time, a woman lived alone in the northern Minnesota wilderness. Except, she wasn’t really alone. Birds and otters kept her company. Canoeists stopped by her island on Knife Lake near the Canadian Border. At one time, she even ran a resort there.

*Image courtesy of the Dorothy Molter Museum.*

But after the land was designated as an official roadless area and then a Wilderness with a capital W, making a living became more difficult for the woman, not to mention getting supplies. Rogue sea plane pilots tried to help her, but they were arrested. The only thing the woman could do was haul in the supplies she needed by canoe, portaging five times over the 33 miles to civilization.

In 1952, a writer with the Saturday Evening Post visited her and wrote a story about “The Loneliest Woman in America.” The article turned her into a national legend – a woman living alone among wolves and braving minus 50-degree winter temperatures. But the woman always contended the writer got it wrong, she was never lonely, even in winter.

One day, she was cleaning and found dozens and dozens of glass bottles left from when her resort served pop (as we call it in Minnesota). Rather than haul out the bottles and discard them, Dorothy Molter (as was her name) got the idea to make root beer for passing canoeists in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.

She hit the jackpot. If there’s one thing most wilderness campers appreciate, it’s a fizzy cold drink after days away from civilization. Dorothy made her drinks with root beer extract, sugar, yeast, and water from Knife Lake. They were cooled on ice cut from the lake in winter. Canoeists donated a dollar per bottle.

Dorothy made root beer for years. At the height of her business, she produced 12,000 bottles and still couldn’t keep up with demand. She was trained as a nurse and aided any canoeists who needed help by sewing up cuts and removing fishhooks from various body parts. She once saved the lives of a father and son who got hit by lightning in a sudden summer storm. Dorothy also nursed wild animals, including a crow and a mink.

A strong and plain-spoken woman, Dorothy didn’t swear or curse, but she didn’t mince words either. Her philosophy for surviving in the wilderness could be summed up in the sign she posted at her home on the Isle of Pines. “Kwitchurbeliakin,” it advised.

Dorothy continued living in the wilderness until she was in her late 70s. She kept in touch by radio, checking in with Forest Service staff daily. One winter day she didn’t check in. Then another day passed with no contact. A wilderness ranger made the trek and found her dead of a heart attack from hauling wood.

Although Dorothy’s time passed, her memory is preserved in a museum named after her in Ely, Minnesota. The fame and good will she garnered through her lifestyle prompted its formation.

Russ and I had heard of Dorothy over the years but never had a chance to meet her or visit her museum. We thought we were out of luck on a recent camping trip to Ely because a brochure we happened upon said the museum was closed after Labor Day.

With drizzly weather forecast, Russ and I ditched hiking plans and meandered into Ely to see what struck our fancy. We had driven though the whole town with no fancies struck, when we passed the sign for the Dorothy Molter Museum on the outskirts. The sign read “Open.” So, we turned in, hoping the sign wasn’t just the product of end-of-season-forgetfulness on somebody’s part.

The museum really was open! We spent a couple of hours touring Dorothy’s cabins, which volunteers had hauled out of the wilderness to house her artifacts. We enjoyed watching excerpts from a video about Dorothy’s life. We viewed her root beer-making equipment and perused the gift shop, where visitors can buy a bottle of Dorothy’s root beer. Despite the drizzle, we also got a bit of hiking in on the quarter-mile trail in the pine plantation surrounding the museum.

We left glad to see Dorothy’s memory preserved. As one of the museum signs says, “Although Dorothy has been gone from Knife Lake for over 30 years, we hope that you find inspiration to live your lives like she did, in harmony with the environment, with integrity, helping humankind, and making a contribution toward a better world.”