The Cabin

[Mayhaw Man]

Ok, forgive a Southern Man a stupid question, but I am fascinated by this change of season thing.

I see that the dock is up on the shore. So that's it? No "one more long weekend" or and "aww, hell, let's go up there. Who cares if it's cold" weekend adventures? You just lock up and that's it?

Now you have to realize that this is coming from someone who has lived most of his life in places that NEVER freeze hard, if they do at all and someone who, other than various winter vacations and a few years in college up North (North for me anyway-Northwest Arkansas ) has never had to deal with Parkas, and snow shovels, etc. When will that lake of yours freeze normally? Do you have to clean the place out of food incase of bursting from freezing or animal invasions. I need some manly type nuts and bolts info here from a Northern cabin person. You are the only one I know, so help me out here.

[Richard Kilgore]

Thanks so much, Susan, for writing about your life with the cabin. It is making me wish that my annual October trip to a friend's cabin not too far away in the North Woods was this week. And Brooks, our trip is a shut down the cabin trip, too, mixed in with letting grouse chase us around the woods. Drain the water heater and pipes, store whatever supplies the mice would find interesting, clean out the fridge, disassemble the dock and drag it up a 25 foot cliff. After early October, Winter drops in rapidly and if you can get in, you may not be able to get out. We're talking - 85 degrees windchill at times in deep Winter.

[snowangel]

Ok, forgive a Southern Man a stupid question, but I am fascinated by this change of season thing.

I see that the dock is up on the shore. So that's it? No "one more long weekend" or and "aww, hell, let's go up there. Who cares if it's cold" weekend adventures? You just lock up and that's it?

OK, Brooks. Lesson time.

Yes, we will be back up. Trust me. I can't go without being up there in the woods when the leaves are down and we can see through the woods. Walking the road, shotguns in hand, looking for grouse. Perhaps fishing.

If you don't take the dock out of the water, it freezes in, and there is a lot of "heave ho" as it unfreezes and re-freezes and just messes it up.

Yes, we took it out. Unless someone else on our side of the lake is up there, there is only one pair of waders.

Somehow, 46 degree (f) water is sure a lot warmer on a really sunny day, when the sun is high in the sky (much higher in the sky in mid-May than mid-October) and the promise of summer than when the light is low and the promise is for colder weather.

Plus, there were are boatload of other adults and big kids to haul the wooden sections. And, with a big crew, all Paul and I have to do it get the 18' aluminum secions up to shore and they just feed them up.

OK, just call me a wimp.

Should have mentioned The Big Task we accomplished this weekend. Those of you that have read this thread may have noticed "no running water." That also translates to outhouse. The outhouse has been moved once, and is filling again. It had not ventilation, and me does think that if one wants to get some composting action going, it needs air. So we put some vents in around the bottom and also added a stack. Yikes. Even The Water Wimp had to swim after that task, but we also swear that when you are in the outhouse, it smells more like wood shavings now than The Other Smell. You know, one of those cordless drill, circular saw, jigsaw, and flashlight sets are a really good thing (I got it for Mother's Day two years ago). Did the trick. I never want to move an outhouse again in my life, and that memory is about 15 years dim.

[Mayhaw Man]

My boys were fascinated with the "biffy" as our Canadian friends refer to the outhouse. Not suprisingly, the humor lasted for exactly one visit. After that, there had to be a serious need to go.

That place we were in up in Ontario had a solar water supply to the house associated with propane instant water heater for a shower and the sink. That rig was slick as all get out. Simple to operate, and the whole thing was designed to be drained and dismantled in a matter of minutes when it came time to abandon the place for the winter (apparently it is normally used until mid October by bear hunters). My Dad liked the insant hot water heater so much he put one in his bathroom at the lake, as there is always a hot water issue when all 13 of us are up there at once. Between the laundry and the shower and the kitchen there is never enough water for his morning routine. Now he's a happy camper.

And I join with Richard in thanking you for the continuing saga of life in the North. I can't wait until next July when we head back to Kenora, ON and points way North for another week of life with the biffy. We already made the reservations. (not to mention another stop in Winnipeg for a 2 hour graze at Kim Koom Gardens-my son's new favorite place to eat-he complains constantly about the lack of "decent chinese" now. He sounds like somebody on eGullet when he really gets going ).

[snowangel]

On this sultry night, we have decided that we will return to The Cabin this coming weekend. We have always gone two weeks after Labor Day and two weeks later.

The woods are drying out, the leaves falling, and things will be different. We will not swim (except perhaps me, The Brave One), but we will walk the road, and hopefully spot some grouse which will be waiting for us two weeks hence.

So, we pray for a weather forcast late this week that will bode a trip to the cabin. Fires in the soapstone stove to warm the nights. Perhaps a chuck roast or some short ribs for a braise?

It will be a short trip. Leave Friday late afternoon, drive 250 miles, pack it up Sunday, drive 250 miles, to get home in time to get the kids in bed in time enough to be alert for school. The beauty of high summer is no school and light late. Who cares, in those carefree days what time the kids go to bed?

As the leaves fall, the days shorten, the the cabin beckons as much as it does during those days of long days and late night swims. OK, so I'm an addict.

[snowangel]

As the time of this report will indicate, we are not on our way to the cabin. Diana has a volleyball game at 8:00 pm, and a party afterwards, and the idea of getting into the car at 10:00 pm for a 4-1/2 hour drive at 10:00 pm doesn't work. Especially since we need to leave by 3:30 pm on Sunday (at the latest) to get home in time to get the kids to bed at a reasonal "night before school" time.

But, we will return the first week of October, to celebrate Diana and Paul's birthdays (as we have done for many, many years) and to (hopefully) grouse hunt successfully.

The grouse hunting has not been great the last few years. We are sort of wondering if one of us is correct that they are on a 7-year cycle, or if the one of us that thinks they are on an 11-year cycle is correct.

But, first weekend of October is a given, and I have already made arrangements to take the kids out of school early. To "close up the cabin." Never mind that closing up the cabin involves nothing more than taking the screens off and putting the storm windows up (1/2 hour job, max). The big part of closing up the cabin is kissing it goodbye after the Best Summer Ever (every summer).

[snowangel]

When I did laundry today, I packed the duffle bags. We leave Friday, mid afteroon. I will pull the kids early from school for The Last Trip of the Season to the Cabin. We must get up. For mental health and those jackets that are up there.

I will purchase goceries on Thursday. Paul wants steak on Friday night, so my favorite butcher will make sure I get enough chuck eye's. The tomatoes have been spectacular, of late, so they will be featured.

This will be a bittersweet trip. Those tears as we leave for the last time as we buttone everyting up. All of the memories of the past summer. The promise of a new year.

Tradition. Paul has a birthday the first week of October. For his birthday, every year, for the past 26, we have been going to the cabin.

So, on Friday night, after dark, we will arrive. We will not be greeted by the June and July fireflies, but the need for a fire in the soapstone stove. We will have been steeled by tuna salad sandwiches in the car (tuna salad sandwiches, in sandwich plastic bags are just about the neatest sandwiches to eat in the car), but the kids will want s'mores (marshmallows toasted over the right front burner on the gas stove). We will turn on the radio and sit up late until the cabin is warm, telling stories, guessing at Peter's charades.

We will walk the road, shotguns in hand, hoping for grouse. We may ish, but the boat has been "dry docked" for the winter, so perhaps not.

[snowangel]

The Bronco, with the exception of the coolers and the larb Diana will eat on the drive up, is packed. The gas tank if full, and I've checked oil and coolant.

We just may see the first F words (flakes) of our season. It will be chilly, me thinks, according to the Kenora weather report (most reliable for our area).

We will be on the road by 4:00 pm; earlier than in the summer, because daylight wanes earlier, and the cabin will probably be cold, and we do want to get it warm before we put the young ones to bed. (The core of the mattresses gets cold at this time of year.) We will stop once. In Cook, at the Spur station, for milk, eggs, and ice (they take up too much room in the cooler, and we will need ice for cocktails). Since the casualty of our move was the key to the cabin, we will hoist Peter through a window, he will open the door. Paul will light the fire, and I will turn on the gas, get the fridge, pilot lights, and gas lights going. We may even start the generator for the vehicle unload. Paul and I have done this "first weekend of October trip" for 25 years together. With and without kids. It is tradition, as He says.

Early Saturday morning, I will wake, start the teapot for hot water for coffee (I will actually grind coffee the night before) since we Melita into a thermal carafe at the cabin. While that pot is heating, I will eagerly look outside to see how much change there has been. In folage, in birds, in the light.

On the menu:

Breakfasts are a given. Waffles, eggs, pancakes, sausage, bacon, fruit, yogurt.

Lunches. Noshing. I have great aged gouda and tilset from Eichtens. Liverwurst. Some great summer sausage from the Nicollet Meat Market. Carrots. Leftover cold green beans (a favorite of mine, especially dipped in Malle Dijon). Bread from the Wedge. Bananas.

Dinner (only one dinner on Saturday night). Chuck eye steaks. Beautiful slim, tender green beans, new potatoes the size of big marbles, the best tomatoes I have had all season. Although there may be flakes, we will pretend it's summer. Reminder to self. Pick up bottles of wine, some beer. Better also get something higher proof, as well, as one does not want to waste bladder space on non-high proof when the temps dip to the 30 (f) and the biffy is an outhouse.

Weather indicates we will not take fishing gear, but use what is up there if we feel like fishing. There comes a time in the year when it is actually more comforatable to ice fish than open water fish, and indications are that this will be one of those weekends.

If we get grouse this weekend, great. If not, we will have had a wonderful walk along the road.

Complete with all of the food that is necessary to feed one's tummy and soul.

Ah, The Cabin.

Edited October 1, 2004 by snowangel (log)

[snowangel]

When I think about most of our weekends at the cabin, they are made up of moments. And, from this past weekend, many moments:

A good portion of our drive was after dark, which is not common now that I'm a full-time at-home'er. But, it is getting dark early. I love when the headlights carve a tunnel through the canopy of trees.

Likewise, There is something magical about looking out of the passenger window, somewhere just north of Cook, to see a huge, almost full moon rising.

We arrive. It is cold. About 30; it is about 40 in the cabin. We start the generator (for more light) and hoist Peter through a window (we forgot the key). The first thing that Paul does is start a fire in our soapstone stove. I use that opportunity to put coffee water and washing water on.

We do have a box fan which we use to circulate the warm air throughout the cabin. We arrived at 8:30 pm, and by 11:00 pm (bed time), we have the place to a nice warm 70 (degrees all fahrenheit).

Then, another moment. As things are warming, Diana and Peter do charades for us. All sorts of things. Peter was working on food items.

Since it was dark when we arrived, we have not been able to check leaf status, so I leave the shade open on one of the windows in our room. We nestle in, warm, cozy and happy to be where we are.

I awake the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing, open eyes, and look out that window, to see a maple, in full red splendor. The birch beside it is half green, half gold.

Peter bounds into my bed. He has been to the outhouse, and since it is cold outside, when I kiss his cheek, I can smell that smell of cold on him. Trust me, when a cheek is really cold, it smells different. Another moment. That first smell of cold cheeks

When the pot is ready, I shag it out, don jeans and sweatshirt (too chilly for the tank top and jams that were my summer morning clothes)an head to the outhouse. The seat is really cold when it is 30. Another moment.

I run back inside and grab that first cuppa and a smoke. No dock so coffee on the deck. This is what I saw.

It is a spectacular, sunny, but windy day. The birds, by enlarge, are gone. We saw a few robins (they will leave when the water closes) and some gulls.

Then, it's in for breakfast. Another one of those moments. Peter "Mom, I made all of the beds, and have the pan out for sausages. I also got out the waffle maker and stuff. And, I set the table!"

So, it is patty sausages, waffles, butter, syrup, orange juice, milk, bananas. Then, another moment as Peter decides it's time for him to start doing dishes.

We have a double sink, and have two Rubbermaid wash tubs. One for washing, one for rinsing. Boiling water into each. The wash side gets Dawn and some cold water to bring it to a little boy temp. He washes, I rinse (in boiling water). I dry. Dishes rinsed in boiling hot water dry really fast. And, a good dryer gets what the washer missed.

We take a walk down the road. Guns in hand. Only see one grouse, and decide that it is better that this has a chance to breed. Perhaps we are on the upswing of the 11-year (or is it a 7-year?) cycle.

Paul and the kids decide to take a drive. So, I have another moment. Me, alone in the cabin, tunes cranked (thanks KAXE), a sliced honeycrisp apple, slices of Eichtens aged (3-year) gouda, a glass of white wine, knitting, sitting in the rocker by the big windows, sun streaming over me. I turn the radio off and revel in the silence. Not a gunshot, vehicle, bird or anything. Just the occasional creak of the rocker.

A honking of a vehicle stirs me out of my warm sun/knitting stupor. I run outside. Diana is behind the wheel of the Bronco. She has had her first driving lesson. Another moment.

The kids and Paul have sandwiches (cheese, bread, salami, liverwurst, mustard), chips, bananas, washed down with beer or Coke (age appropriate).

We have gone up every first weekend of October since 1980 to celebrate Paul's early October birthday, save one (Diana was born just a few days before, and we did wait that year until she was about 2 weeks old to make the trip). So, Saturday afternoon, Diana bakes a cake. Paul wants German chocolate. Cake is from a mix (sorry, but unsure of what was up there), frosting (coconut/pecan) from scratch. Peter took charge of the frosting, and did an interesting job of garnishing the cake with pecan halves.

For dinner, we had steaks, green beans (seared and steamed; they were the best of the season), roasted potatoes. I smushed Heidi's up and tucked in some hardboiled eggs. Oh, and I sliced up some really good tomatoes and chiffonaded a few fresh basil leaves and drizzed some EVOO on them. Paul and I washed it down with a pinot, the kids with limeade. The kids each (except Heidi) get a sip of wine, and are charged with trying to describe the wine. These are more of these moments. Watching Diana mince the garlic, sear the beans, pepper the steaks. Peter taking extra care to set the table.

As Peter and Diana clear the table, I cry "outside everyone!" This is what we saw.

Another one of those moments.

The next moments are going through the cupboards, while waiting for the wash water to boil. Canned goods must all come home (mostly tuna). Got to the back of the cupboard, and realized that some of the "treasures" were as old as Diana. Pitch. We figured that the fish sauce, curry paste, chili-garlic sauce and toasted rice powder (in a glass jar, securedly sealed) would winter well, and not attract mice. Build another fire. Another moment. Really old dried pasta looks really cool when it is burning. Sort of flashes.

After games of Milles Bournes, Scrabble, charades, and a toddy, it is off to bed.

We are greated the next morning with a light rain, and pretty heavy wind. Today, it was bacon and pancakes for breakfast, pancakes topped with the rest of the fresh eggs fried in bacon grease. Is there anything better?

Knitting, reading, homework, listening to Will Shortz on that Sunday morning NPR show we listen to every Sunday we're at the cabin. Clean up. Floors mopped, beds stripped, everything buttoned down for the winter. More of those moments. I look at my kids. Recall bringing Heidi and Diana up when they were a scant two weeks old. Going through that pile of shoes under the bed and realizing that most of them will never fit any of my kids again. We fill the woodbox inside the cabin, hoping we won't need to use any of it next May.

We walk to the point to say good bye. We do a final walk through of the cabin -- touch the surfaces, and remember. We locked the door, had a final hug at the edge of the lake, and all will remember. More of those moments.

A summer that seemed way to short (and we were shorted on weather!) But, we will remember watching the kids grow, gain confidence is swimming. Watched a 14-year old girl drive a vehicle for the first time. Caught fish. Had wonderful nights laying on the deck or dock identifying constellations. Skinny-dipped. Fed our tummies and souls with pure food. As we walked away from the lake for the last time, my non-verbal Heidi, I'm sure, was saying "this was the best summer ever."

The water and the air were cold, so Peter and I did not savor an early October swim. That was a moment we chose to forego.

I left, as I always do this particular weekend, with a tear in my eye. But with the knowledge that come mid-May 2005, we will begin another season of many moments.

Every summer is the best, especially when spent at The Cabin. More moments to come in 2005.

Edited to add: The stack and additional ventilation we added to the outhouse (yes, this is food-related!) have greatly improved the smell situation. In addition, the level "of stuff in the hole" is greatly reduced. Ventilation in an outhouse is key.

Edited October 4, 2004 by snowangel (log)

[Pam R]

Susan - you directed me to this thread a while ago, but I didn't have much time to read it then. I've just spent a little more time scrolling through, stopping to read about one weekend or another, looking at some of your amazing pictures. It all brings back great memories!

When I was a kid, my parents bought an acre of land on a private lake about 10 minutes north of Kenora, Ont. They cleared the land by hand, making sure to take down just enough greenery to build the cottage - no more. In our entire time there, we never had plumbing - it was a 'biffy' for us, or if we were REALLY desperate, we were allowed to use the chemical toilet set up in the 'bathroom'

(there were plans to one day have plumbing. I think that my parents let us use it only because it was not unheard of to hear bears splashing around at night on our private beach.

To tell the truth, I hated the cottage.... for the first few years. While my parents and sister looked forward to it, I thought staying at the Holiday Inn in Kenora was a much better idea. But little by little I began to love it, and I looked forward to it more and more every year.

When I graduated from high-school I spend 2 months in Israel with my class... then my sister flew out and we continued to travel in Europe together. It was an amazing summer - but we came home to find that our parents had sold the cottage and we would never be able to return.

The food business that I love so much was the reason - our catering company was so busy that we just did not have the time to get to the lake. Of course, summers are big for weddings and bar mitzvahs (and unveilings... etc.) and the 3-3/12 hour drive was just too much.

It's been more than 10 years since we sold, but I still miss it! When I have some free time now, I head north about an hour to the shores of Lake Winnipeg, but it's not the same thing. (Especially this past summer... it was just crappy all around)

Thanks so much for telling us about your wonderful cabin - I look forward to living vicariously through you this summer! Pick some blueberries for me this summer (and try the blueberry soup!) and take a dip in the lake.

[snowangel]

Thanks, Pam. I will think of you as I fix the first of the pancakes this coming summer with fresh blueberries!

We are 13 weeks and counting. However, for the first time in more years than Paul and I have been married (almost a quarter of a century), opening weekend for us will be a week late, due to a family occasion. Why anyone anywhere would schedule a wedding, graduations, whatever on Opening Weekend is beyond us, but we will do The Right Thing.

But, back to the task as hand.

Under a magnet on the fridge (the Ruby Slipper Magnet) is a list of the stuff we need and want for The Cabin. Some of these are food items I will purchase closer to going up (flour, ketchup, mustard, baking soda, TP, etc., etc.) but some are of the wish list/gadget variety. I am the one that cooks, of everyone that uses the cabin. And, since I spend more time up there than anyone, I want it to function as well as possible.

Now, keep in mind that I did stock the cabin with some "essentials" this past summer. A microplane. A wooden citrus reamer. Two silicone spatulas.

But, back to my wish list under the Ruby Slipper Magnet (take me back to the cabin). I was at Target not long ago, and they are re-packaging their Chefmate line of gadgets. So, the old orange and white packages have been replaced by another color, and the orange and white ones were on clearance. So, clearance, at 80% off ( ), purchased: one digital timer. One instant read thermomenter. One digital scale (so, not great, but at just under $8.00, will do). New set of measuring cups (40 year old ones with serious dents aren't accurate are they). Locking tongs. A new 4 cup liquid meaurere that isn't chipped. A new set of whisks that aren't rusty.

The wish list items have been dutifully crossed off the list, with the more perishable items remaining, for that trip to the market in mid-May. My best friend and her family will join us for the opening, and a couple of weeks before hand, we will get together to discuss menus, knowing that some of the gaps in equipment have been taken care of.

Finally, I leave you with a photo.

A golden retrieve is well named. This particular GR, Jake, retrieves not only little boys in styrofoam chairs with ropes, but also birds. Unlike Benson, Paul's folks former Black Lab, he does not eat the retrieved object.

Yes, we remain passionate about our cabin. Ane the promise of a new season.

Edited February 15, 2005 by snowangel (log)

[snowangel]

Serious countdown. We leave two weeks from tomorrow morning. We'd leave on Thursday night, but we don't know how flooded the road is, nor do we know how many trees are down on the road.

So, I've talked to my friend about food. I'll fry up a mess of chicken on Thursday so we have food ready to eat for Friday night, when we're too excited to be there to cook.

We're going to watch the weather to decide about dinner on Saturday night. If it looks cool, it'll be a braise. If it's nice and sunny, we'll grill hunks of meat.

Breakfasts are a piece of cake.

Next, Susan and I will work on the noshing/munchy stuff. We're thinking a mess of cheese, fruit, salami, crackers, an assortment of mustards. And, I should bake some cookies.

Peter has his bag packed, and I have picked up most of the stuff on my list that I made last October, and I've amassed a stack of New York Times Sunday magazines with undone puzzles, and some other stuff I've been meaning to read.

[snowangel]

We returned from our first trip of the season from the cabin a week ago yesterday. Yes, I have been remiss about posting, but I've been a bit under the weather.

Anyway, we left on that Friday morning. Early. We've learned that if we want an early take-off, it means breakfast on the road. We do this once a year. In Hinkley.

We got a bag of 20 sliders, two orders of fries and one of onion chips. Heidi (all 60 pounds of her) was the champ, downing 5-1/2 sliders and a good portion of the onion chips. I can't eat too many of these things and sit in the car for the remainder of the car trip (another 3+ hours).

This is how the lake looked a few minutes after we arrived. Peter (the ham) has the distinction of being the first in the lake this year.

Our friends arrived a short while later, and the first order of business, since the day was beautiful, was to get the dock in.

Paul and I once again have put the aluminum sections in and the others are adding the wooden sections. The water wimp (Paul) wore the waders, and I donned a bathing suit and water shoes. I also wore a pair of shorts so I had pockets for the nuts, bolts, wrench and socket. It went in slower than it comes out, but we got it done.

Then it was time for my first swim of the season, and first hair wash in the lake.

Passing fisherpersons informed us that they thought I was crazy, as the water temp was "only 51" (degrees F). I though it was pretty darned warm for that time of year. It felt good, and my hair was soft and silky.

But, I digress. Lest you think the dock is not food related, let me tell you that it sure makes getting wash water out of the lake easier (yes, we have running water. Someone running to the lake with a bucket of water). We bring up our drinking water. The dock is also the scene of many a nosh. All sorts of plates of food find their way to the dock. For lunch, for snacks, for late night romantic skinny dipping snacks. I also sit at the end of the dock for my first cuppa in the morning. Mighty important.

For dinner on Friday evening, knowing full well that the last thing we'd feel like doing would be cooking, I fried some chicken on Thursday.

We also had a big salad and carrots. The fried chicken was just great, and we appreciated not having to cook, because we were too busy exploring and remembing just why we love this place so much.

After dinner, the kids made s'mores over the gas jets of the stove. We sat around and were regales by tales, and the musicians played a mandoline and two guitars.

For breakfast on Saturday morning, we had bacon (lots of it) and waffles

made on our nifty stove-top waffle maker (I have two of these up there)

We topped the waffles with plain yogurt that I mixed with raspberry sauce (home-made) and frozen raspberries (picked and frozen by me).

At some point, those that wanted to fish went fishing. The pickings were not many. Paul got two walleyes

They also caught some small-mouth bass, but I really hate them so they are merely a catch and release for us. We fried these up for a snack.

I neglected to take pictures of "lunch" which was basically all day noshing. Salami, bread, mustard. Chips, and Salsa Lisa. The very hot, the hot, and that milk tomatillo/green chili versions. This is a local salsa which is very good, and will do for us until tomatoes are here. I was too busy getting things ready to make salsa.

The girls also made brownies. They were very good.

Somewhere earlier in the day, I pulled the trusty Weber Kettle out of the shed, fired up the chimney, soaked some wood chunks, and pulled out the ribs that I had rubbed at home. There's something so satisfying about tending a smoking grill, expecially when one sees and tastes the finished product.

I had brought up a mess of hardboiled eggs, a bag of new potatoes, some mayo, so Susan made potato salad. The girls also made a salad of organic baby greens, some candied cashews and dried cranberries. Dinner was wonderful.

For dessert, we tried whipping some mascarpone with cream to go over strawberries and raspberries:

When the cream isn't cream, but half and half, it doesn't whip. But, it still tasted good (forgot to take a picture).

After a "breakfast of champions" the next morning

(the girls made the muffins), Susan and I headed out for a walk in the mist, looking for "stuff."

Try as we could, we could find no fiddleheads. Nor have we ever found any ramps up there.

But, in addition to the bazillion of raspberry canes just coming to life, the millions of blueberries coming to life, we found evidence of many strawberries which hopefully, won't be trampled, and the fruit will be ripe and ready when we are up there at some point.

When ripe, these berries are little and so packed with flavour that they are more like "essence of strawberry" that what we normally associate with strawberries.

We also saw a plethora of what I think is my very favorite flower -- the marsh marigold.

I better find out of these are edible. These, for those of us that head north in early to mid-May, are the harbinger of the coming season. The season is short, and because we were up a week later than normal, it was a spectacular season for them.

The weather was typical for mid-May. Beautiful when we got up there, beautiful as it was time to leave. Cloudy, stormy, misty when we were up there. But, those cloudy/misty/stormy times give us time to play games with the kids, listen to one of the country's greatest radio stations -- KAXE Northern Community Radio out of Grand Rapids.

More than anything, it is about deafening silence. No phone, no computer, no washing machine, no TV. Not even the hum of a fridge; the gas Servel is absolutely quiet. Listening for the sounds of the different birds, counting the numbers of baby ducks the mother's are shepharding. Quick dips in a cold lake, and that silky feeling one's skin and hair has when dry. Watching the bald eagle duel with an osprey for a fish. Playing card games. Singing songs. Telling stories to the kids, and listening to their stories. A very simple life.

As I walked out to the dock after we loaded the car up, I looked overhead and saw a sight we'd seen several times over the course of the weekend, pelicans flying in formation.

As I walked to the Bronco, I was reminded just how lucky we are to have this little remote piece of heaven. And, how lucky my kids are.

The season is just beginning! The kids are out of school June 9, and a couple of days later, I think it's time for a spell up there.

[snowangel]

We cabined again this past weekend. As I said above, we are into longer and less frequent trips, due to road construction. So, we left on Friday afternoon.

I should preface this by saying it has been a long and brutal spring. Heidi was plagued with seizures, my Dad with qunituple bypass surgery. It has done nothing but rain and be cold for weeks. We have been more than ready for summer.

We left home noon-ish, and as a reward to two kids for great report cards, we stopped at Gordy's High Hat in Cloquet for burgers, fries and shakes. It is rare that we stop for more than car food on the way north. We (me) are too hot to trot. I will report on Gordy's on the burger cookoff thread.

Anyway, our wait for summer met with a grand reward. As we pulled into our little piece of heaven, the air temp was 86 (f), and not a breeze around. Which means that the lake is doing some major warming. When we saw the thermometer in Cook and realized how warm it was, Peter embarrassed himself by putting on his suit in the car (in front of his sisters) so he was ready to go.

He has been for a swim already, and is laying on the dock; we don't even have the Bronco unloaded yet.

We all headed, as soon as the fridge was on, for cold beverages (G & T's for Paul and I, ice cold coca cola for the kids) and swim suits.

The above photo does not show how brilliant the sun was, nor the golden glints of reflected sunlight on the lake.

The lake water was like a layered Jello salad. Very warm (79 degrees F) on the surface, with successive, and very distinct layers of cooler water underneath, with a surprising warm layer way down below. Standing at the dock, taking sips of a drink and the tiny little perch came and nibbled on my ankles. If we were really quiet, mother duck and her brood of 12 (!) came swimming by. The ducks are not yet big enough to fly.

Dinner was on the dock, and various easy to eat munchies. I've quit cooking a dinner the evening we get there. There is too much to explore, remember, and in this case, the water was just plain too inviting to make us even think of time in the kitchen.

We did not leave until last night, and the ensuing meals consisted of standard cabin breakfasts (you can see them up thread; eggs, bacon, sausages, waffles, pancakes, muffins, etc.). Lunches salami, sliced ham, cheese, chips, etc.

Dinner one night were some great skin-on Hot Dogs from Bob's Produce Ranch. These are made in-house, and when grilled, have a really nice snap. I also made potato salad (boiled potatoes and eggs before we left, and made mayo up at the cabin, thanks to the recent eGullet Culinary Institite class on condiments.

Diana made her first batch of guac, which we had with chips, on the dock.

She mashed it more than she wished she had, but it was an impressive first attempt.

For dinner on Sunday night, we had burgers. I have reported on them over on the Burger Cookoff thread (or will in a minute).

Sunset on Sunday night was at 9:19 pm. Almost the longest day of the year!

Long after sunset, and several games of cards, the kids wanted dessert, so I pulled out the marshmallows, which they "toasted" over the gas stove

And, then they made Smores

Yes, the photo is blurry. But, the Hershey bars were pretty soft because it was so hot up there, but we all agreed that soft Hershey bars make the best and most messy Smores.

The kids and I made a pilgrimage out to the point, which had been trashed by campers (I'm really tired of cleaning up other people's trash out there), and did a blueberry check. There are plants out on the point, which never amount to much, partly because of terrain, and partly because they get trampled by those not in the know, but it looks like it will be a very, very good berry year. Lots of rain, and the heat that is here should produce a bumper crop. We'll know more about that late in July. The fish certainly didn't want to be caught this weekend.

The bugs were fierce, with all of those mosquitoes and no-see-ums, there is a nice big crop of fat dragonflies. I tried to photo these beautiful insects as they laid on the cement path to the dock, but it was not to be. (I was rather lame on photo taking this weekend, outside of pics of the kids frolicing in the water).

We returned home (there is almost no traffic on a Monday afternoon, now our favorite travel day!) with color (slight sunburn for me) feeling silky and smooth from all of that time in the water, rejuvenated from the silence, and loving each other. 'Til a good place to take the kids.

[sparrowgrass]

I am on my way up to your part of the country mid-July, snowangel. I am taking my mom on a road trip--to Chicago to see the brother, to Ely to visit with some friends, and then, if we have the energy, down along the shore to Duluth and then over to Ironwood MI for some rock hunting on the beach.

Looking forward to fried walleye and buying lots of cheap wild rice.

[snowangel]

I am on my way up to your part of the country mid-July, snowangel.  I am taking my mom on a road trip--to Chicago to see the brother, to Ely to visit with some friends, and then, if we have the energy, down along the shore to Duluth and then over to Ironwood MI for some rock hunting on the beach.

Looking forward to fried walleye and buying lots of cheap wild rice.

←

Should you head to Duluth, do take Highway 1 from Ely to Duluth, and take the scenic highway from Two Harbors to Duluth. Stop at Russ Kendall's for sugar smoked salmon, and there's also a great yarn shop in Knife River, right along the lake, with fab views and fun yarn.

[sparrowgrass]

Yep, I know about Highway 1. A good place to see moose, especially if it is dark and you are driving too fast.

When I lived in Ely, a friend just back from Two Harbors called me over to look at his front bumper. It was splattered with what looked like cow manure. He said he had just narrowly missed not one, not two, but SEVEN moose standing in the highway just east of Isabella. Scared the shit out of all of them, him included.

[lovebenton0]

great cabin report, Susan. so wanted to be there to see and taste all of that myself...

we're heading up that way the second week of July, only as far as Chicago/Kenosha WI though, still way south and east of the cabin. but looking forward to a northern summer weather break from the TX frying pan at that time. and some good Italian and German sausages, etc., that likes of which we just can't find in Central TX.

[Smithy]

I am on my way up to your part of the country mid-July, snowangel.  I am taking my mom on a road trip--to Chicago to see the brother, to Ely to visit with some friends, and then, if we have the energy, down along the shore to Duluth and then over to Ironwood MI for some rock hunting on the beach.

Looking forward to fried walleye and buying lots of cheap wild rice.

←

Should you head to Duluth, do take Highway 1 from Ely to Duluth, and take the scenic highway from Two Harbors to Duluth. Stop at Russ Kendall's for sugar smoked salmon, and there's also a great yarn shop in Knife River, right along the lake, with fab views and fun yarn.

←

Along Highway 61 and about 10 miles shy of Two Harbors, make sure you stop in at the Rustic Inn in Castle Danger for some of their pie. I know, I know, Betty's Pies is supposed to be the main stopping point, but it just ain't so. Rustic Inn has The Best Pies that can be purchased, anywhere. Betty's is badly overrated.

[snowangel]

It's supposed to be really hot here in the Cities this weekend and early next week. We haven't been up north in way too long. 'Tis time to float in the lake and pay no attention to anything, except perhaps to fish. And look for fireflies.

So, Saturday morning, we head north. Home on Tuesday.

Any menu suggestions?

[suzilightning]

if you aren't going to eat those walleye can you send them to me? please??(where is the begging icon)

beautiful spot susan. and marsh marigolds are edible especially the young leaves that you can cook in 2 changes of boiling water but do remember to pick them before the plant has finished blooming.

[snowangel]

if you aren't going to eat those walleye can you send them to me?  please??(where is the begging icon)

beautiful spot susan.  and marsh marigolds are edible especially the young leaves that you can cook in 2 changes of boiling water but do remember to pick them before the plant has finished blooming.

←

Walleye hunting is tough on our lake, but we'll do our best.

Sure wish I'd known that about the marsh marigolds back in May. Stored in memory for next May. Are the blossoms edible?

[lovebenton0]

have a great stay at the cabin! we are heading out in a few hours ourselves. looks like it will be a little cooler up north than here. it hit 104 today...

menu idea... butterflied leg o lamb, marinate all day in your choice, grilled in about 20-25 minutes. so good and simple, leaves you plenty of time for lake lolling. wrap in foil some sliced potatoes tossed in evoo or butter, s&p, and throw them on the grill too, some other fresh vegs grilled, seared or steamed. more s'mores later for dessert. any leftover lamb is great cold the next day for gnoshing.

[snowangel]

Now that I've rediscovered my USB cable, I can post about our most recent trip.

We left to beat the heat. Never mind that it was 90 (F) up there as well, but I know that when the breeze is coming over a lake, it not only keeps the bugs away, but is a much cooler breeze than that coming over the Costco parking lot.

We hadn't been up there but 15 minutes before we had a boy in the lake

He was right. The water was spectacular. All of that sun, all of that heat, the surface temp of the water (according to a passing fisherperson) was 80 (F). We sort of unloaded the car, opened windows and doors, turned on the gas, lit the fridge, lit the pilot lights, and then we just found ourselves in suits and in the water.

For food, I did traditional breakfasts. Pancakes or waffles, bacon or sausages, and some strawberry syrup I had made. Since breakfasts were late, lunch was dock style. Salami. Bread. Cheese. Nothing like lunch while laying on the dock, having a young lad feed you cherry tomatoes, olives and salami while slightly propped up, drinking a nice gin and tonic.

Our first night, we had burgers. Not peanut butter burgers, but really great burgers none-the-less. Peter sure thought so.

He had three of them. We also had a beautiful salad (neglected to photo) with a mixture of greens from the farmer's market, purchased from the grocery grape tomatoes, a few strawberries, a bit of goat cheese and some cashews. S'mores for dessert.

For our last night, I chose to smoke me some ribs.

This is where I faced my first challenges. One of the things about having a cabin that others occupy is understanding what they mean when you ask about supplies. I had brought some wood, but not charcoal, because I had been assured that "there is plenty up there." Well, plenty may be enough to fill two chimneys for those who don't grill or smoke often, but not for me. So, I smoked for the first time on a Weber Kettle with primarily wood chunks. I did realize at a point that it would be a good thing to take them off and let them finish in a low oven, or they would have been too smokey. By the way, the smoke ring was way deep. These were almost as good as brisket, and maybe better. They were very nice, meaty, fatty spareribs.

Second conundrum. When I last left the cabin, I left a whole mess of new potatoes. Assured that they were there, I planned on potato salad. Well, they weren't there, but a bag of russets was there. So, bound and determined to have potato salad, I improvised. Diced (not too small) the russets, boiled them in salted water. Drained, and while still hot, cracked a mess of black pepper on them and sprinkled some white wine vinegar. While they cooled, I peeled some hardcooked eggs and Peter and I made mayo. This was an absolutely fab potato salad, and I proved that yes, you can make it with russets.

Third problem. Yes, there is plenty of gas for the generator (it takes car gas, not LP) for grinding coffee in the morning. Well, there was barely enough gas, but we made do.

But, the weather was spectacular. And, as usual, it was best of all as we packed up the car to go home, so we did our traditional great weather summer ritual. Get it all packed up, while wearing swim suits, leaving a change of clothes on the deck. A last swim. Still damp, we don clothes, and put the wet stuff on the hooks on the screen porch. Kiss the cabin goodbye.

But, as Peter said on the way home. It's all about the water at this time of year. The memory I will carry of this past weekend is Peter waking me sometime in the middle of the night. "Mom, I have to go pee. Can you go with me? Can we swim after I pee?" Me: "Why yes, Peter, we can. It will feel good."

That's what this time of year is all about. Swimming. Exploring. Watching blueberries ripen. Playing cards around the radio at sunset when the bugs are at their worst. Listening for the loons. Espying the bald eagle. Good food, great company.

I return on Tuesday with my best friend, her son, Peter and Heidi. The wage earners will leave on Friday morning and pick up the teenage girls from camp before heading to the cabin. My next report will hopefully include a report of our annual blueberry picking excursion.

I've got a song running through my head -- "I'm leaving, in a Ford Bronco. My bags are packed, I'm ready to go..."

[Mayhaw Man]

80F? Hell, even I could swim in that.

It's much more imagining ice coated Yankees paddling around in some semi frozen lake. Try not to bring up warm water again. It ruins the whole mental picture.

What kind of grilling equipment do you have up there? Smokers? Weber? Regular cheesy grill?