Author: The Cedar Journal

How to keep busy…

The Cedar Journal November 16, 2021

Warning from the local Great Blue Heron should have been my first clue that we were heading towards another limited lockdown.

This Blue Heron was going on like this for a good while before I pulled out my phone and captured his alert.

After my return from the United States I was finally starting to feel like we were returning to some pre-COVID normal here in The Netherlands.

I was off to my volunteer job at the Historic Gardens at Aalsmeer every Friday. Taking the bus from my house each time and pushing down some anxiety the bus was full of wall to wall people riding to and from their daily jobs. Masks were still mandatory in the public transport, and the Dutch (who don’t normally chat on public transport) seemed liberated after so long of being sequestered at home, passengers chatted with everyone. On once such bus ride I chatted with a lady who works at the airport who was going back to her sales job for the first time in a year and half. She told me she was nervous but happy that she still had a job. I felt the same way about my volunteer job!

Fall at the Historic Garden in Aalsmeer.

Never a lack of work at the Historic Garden, I was put to work weeding, planting and separating plants for the next season. I always doubt my abilities of my work as I am surrounded by giants of the plant industry. Mostly men who owned and worked the soil of the Aalsmeer plant industry for years before retirement. Now volunteering their skill sets to the preservation of old horticultural skills. I look forward to learning so much each day I volunteer.

One of the fall plantings I was in trusted to plant.

Notice the difference in the piles… the inexperienced volunteer pile I created, is on the left.

The thing I realize each time I volunteer is that work, hard manual work is how humans existed for centuries before the modern age. That those skills are being lost with each passing day when those skills are not learned by generations who have only grown up in the modern age, in front of a computer or TV.

Then COVID hit here once again knocking us all back into a limited lockdown. We are all strongly encouraged to work from home, limit our social contacts, wear a mask everywhere again.

I know that COVID has been hard for most people. The mental anguish for most people of not being able to gather with family and friends at any given moment is difficult.

But, maybe it was a message from Mother Earth that we all needed. That our 24/7/365 world is not sustainable.

What to do with all this time now that we have been given? Here it is three weeks. 3 December, if anyone is keeping exact track of the timeline for this current outbreak.

I am thankful in many ways of my agricultural roots I grew up with. In times of distress on a farm, you just pick up and keep going. Life and death is part of the farm cycle. The change of seasons and the hard work that continues. I never remember having much time to sit and worry about what was next. Heaven forbid if we as children uttered the “I am bored…” words as we instantly found ourselves not bored doing some really crappy task.

One of my Dutch friends thinks I grew up like Laura Ingalls Wilder, she isn’t far from the truth. No running indoor water or toilet with only wood heat for the house. The one thing Laura Ingalls didn’t have was over 100 head of sheep to care for during the year. The year long work even in the -40 temps of Northern Minnesota! Plus, I don’t ever remember Laura Ingalls being told to go clean the crap in the barn due to the fact that she was bored.

When the government announced our lockdown again due to the explosion of COVID cases I pulled out one of my old skill sets I learned as a young person, spinning. Filling my days with making wool yarn with the ancient drop spindle.

The result was something I can feel and see with my own hands. A sense of accomplishment in the world of COVID chaos.

A small skein of hand spun natural wool yarn.

Not a huge accomplishment. It won’t replace the joy I get in volunteering at the Historic Garden, but it is a good filler for the time I now have to stay at home.

I hope that each of my readers are also finding ways to move forward in all this chaos.

Stay safe and stay healthy.

The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Wordless Wednesday-Netherlands

The Cedar Journal November 3, 2021

Climate Change and Fall Kayaking in Minnesota

The Cedar Journal November 1, 2021

With the COP26 starting yesterday in Glasgow, Scotland I think each of us that write about nature and our passions with it owe our readers how climate change is effecting our world.

WE SEE IT!

A Minnesota conifer suffering from the summer drought conditions.

What will the next generations see?

Will they be able to enjoy the natural world, the healing properties of being outside, the variety of flora and fauna that currently exists?

Will the next generations only be able to read blogs like mine and others about how the natural world was before the great climate disaster?

Brown grass in this normally lush marsh area in Carlton County

I hope there is still time to stop the fast changes we are seeing and experiencing. We have made it a personal project here at The Cedar Journal to reduce our footprint. A difficult task since Hubby works and earns his living from the airlines.

How can we do better?

We struggle each day to limit our plastic consumption (mainly because I hate seeing the crap floating in our waters around the world!).

What more can we as individuals do to improve our own individual surroundings to help limit the bigger global climate changes?

This question I ask each of my readers to consider and make changes where you can.

We (the Hubby and I) came to the conclusion that governments and big business must be part of the answer! Consumers can do only so much. Large companies must find a profitable way to stop or limit the production of goods from fossil fuels.

I thought about climate this fall during my trip to Minnesota more than I ever have before. The signs of the Minnesota summer drought were everywhere. Dry grass, tree tops that were brown, rivers that were dry rock beds with puddles that trapped fish and lacked the flow that provides oxygen to those fish. Yes, dead fish floating in those puddles.

When I was on my last paddle of my vacation in the Portage River, one of the inlet rivers that feeds the Moosehead Lake at Moose Lake, Minnesota, I witnessed drought damage to conifer trees. Needles brown.

The Moosehorn River system around Moose Lake, Minnesota

A friend (Kate) and I had decided to enjoy the last day on the water before my flight back to The Netherlands.

It was cool and windy but it wasn’t going to stop us from enjoying what little time we had left before I flew out of Duluth.

Kate is one of my oldest friends. She purchased my old Happy 4th blue 8 foot Otter kayak from me when I upgraded several years ago. I provided me many years of service and now recycled to a new owner, it has had many hours of enjoyment to Kate. This was the first time would kayak together. It made me happy seeing my two old friends (Kate and The Happy 4th) on the water paddling with me and my newer kayak.

Paddling on the Moosehead Lake. Kate is paddling my former kayak, The Happy 4th.

We arrived at the Moose Lake boat launch and unloaded out kayaks. I mentally noted how nice it was to have help getting my 12 foot kayak down to the water. Mostly it is a challenge and each year that passes I find it more so. Since it has been two years since my Minnesota kayak has floated on the water I felt it also got heavier from being in storage… Is that possible?

We slid into the water and paddled across the slightly choppy lake to the Moose Horn River inlet. This is the river that feeds the Moosehead Lake from the North passing through Big Hanging Horn Lake on its journey towards the Kettle River and then into the St Croix River.

The inlet into the Moose Horn River was weedy and low but to our surprise there were hundreds of migrating geese hiding and feeding in the shallows. The water exploded with the flight of birds. Kate was able to capture the shot as they lifted off the water in a noisy fury. Two kayakers was two, too many, for these geese!

We paddled our way towards the Portage River inlet. This is one part of the Moosehead Lake I have never explored. New to Kate too. The wide inlet seemed still as glass as we paddled, protected from the wind blowing across the Moosehead, we now floated more than paddled along our route.

Kate capturing nature from her kayak on the Portage River.

I always like floating or paddling on these sort of river routes. Most are rarely paddled and feel remote. The Portage River has this feel although we could hear the constant I35 traffic that speeds North and South, less than a mile away as we paddled.

As we paddled we took notice of the world along the river shoreline. A house here and there, a sawmill that neither of us knew about. Then a curve in the river, brought again isolation and natural surroundings.

Another curve brought a surprise beaver dam that extended the width of the river. I slowly paddled up to check out if we could just paddle over the top and continue up river. I suggested we not attempt. We turned our boats back the way we came.

As I checked out the beaver dam across the Portage River, Kate captured a picture of me in my kayak.

My hope is that these special moments can continue to be shared with friends and family without the fear of extreme climate changes. That the generations that come after us will also find moments to share with friends in nature.

These moments are rare, when old friends can share a common experience. This was a priceless moment spent on a Northern Minnesota waterway.

The moment is now world leaders, big corporations, mining of fossil fuel companies, what future will you give humanity?

Wordless Wednesday- Halloween

The Cedar Journal October 27, 2021

Fall Camping on the Rum River, Minnesota

The Cedar Journal October 26, 2021

Hard to believe that it has been weeks since I was camping in Minnesota in September. Finally, I am back on stable ground here in my adopted home of The Netherlands.

I had planned on visiting and camping at Mille Lacs Kathio and Father Hennepin State Parks located on the southern edge of Mille Lacs Lake in Minnesota in the Spring of 2020. Then COVID hit and those plans were ruined for 2020. My hope of getting to enjoy both those parks were also not realized in the Spring of 2021 and almost didn’t happen this fall due to international travel restrictions.

I scheduled my time at these two parks for the September 11th weekend so that I could relax in nature and be entirely away from the news. Something about reliving one of the worst days in American history is not something I celebrate or find it fun to relive each year. Nature is the answer to most things that are traumatizing and I intended on this escape to be my peaceful reminder that nature holds the key to wellness.

I reserved one of the cabins at Mille Lacs Kathio for two days and then planned on tent camping at Father Hennepin for September 11 (the Saturday night). I had heard that making reservations at Minnesota State Parks had gotten darn near impossible during the weekends due to everyone trying to escape “the cities”. When I booked most everything was full in most all the parks in the State of Minnesota for that weekend except for a tent site here and there. I felt pretty lucky that I was able to find a site.

I loaded my car from storage with all my gear for the weekend and headed out on this adventure.

Somehow the book didn’t help in my packing efforts.

All the camping gear packed in my Subaru

I drove from Barnum, Minnesota to Mille Lacs on the dirt roads across country. These less travelled roads took me through the countryside where my Dad once travelled with his sheep shearing gear. Through an old turkey farm in Lawyer, large old dairy farms in Aitkin county that now sit like ghosts without dairy cows now only populated with hay ground and vacant buildings. Fall leaves and the damp earthy fall air gave me a feeling of freedom and a sense of a welcome homecoming.

I came along roadside farm stands, I stopped to see what was available. It was all part of the journey, taking time to enjoy what the day would bring. All the time wishing my Hubby was there to enjoy it with me.

I finally I ran out of dirt road and came out on State Highway 47 and started skirting the east side of Lake Mille Lac. The largest lake in Minnesota outside of Lake Superior. This lake has long been a destination throughout time for indiginous tribes and explorers. Now it is lined with small towns that cater to the tourist industry of fishing or the weekender escapees from city life.

My route marked in yellow. I even travelled through the town of Thor!

Once I reached the town of Isle, the area started to feel more like the populated areas of the Twin Cities. Larger houses, newer cars, boats, and then suddenly the opposite… an Amish boy walking or an Amish family riding in horse driven wagons. Strange the contrasts of modern and simple living in this area.

Once I arrived at Mille Lacs Kathio State Park, I was checked in by a very friendly employee who helped me with information about the park. I had wanted to kayak but didn’t want the trouble of loading and unloading my gear from my car. She told me that they had kayaks to rent and I quickly took her up on the offer of a rental. She did inform me that the river level was very low.

The gear was clean, well organized and reasonable at $15.00 for the afternoon rental. The kayak was at the launch and was not new or very clean but it was usable. Making this a great option to bringing my own gear from my storage unit.

The river that runs out of the South end of lake Mille Lacs is the Rum River. It continues across the middle of Minnesota running through four counties before dumping into the Mississippi River in Anoka, MN. I have fished part of the Rum River in Isanti county but I have never paddled this part of the river.

As I went and unpacked the car at my cabin I didn’t waste any time to get down to the river and load the rented kayak into the Rum River.

The main channel of the river was a bit deeper to paddle.

The summer drought in Minnesota was obvious instantly, the water level was well below normal, the launch point was crowded with weeds.

The levels in most of the river was about four to six inches and was filled with weeds. The water remained remarkably clear so it was easy to see the small fish swimming around the kayak. As I inched my way up river towards a larger lake like area, I got into the main river current flow. Even in the current the river was only at the most four feet deep as I tested the depth with my paddle. I could still clearly see the fish skirting (now much bigger fish) to get out of the way of the plastic boat intruder.

The dam across the Rum River. Incredibly low water levels due to the summer drought.

From the kayak I could see and hear trumpeter swans on the larger area just past the dam. There were also two eagles sitting on the shoreline of rocks surveying the water for food. Unfortunately my presence scared the wildlife into a frenzy of escape activity. Eagles and swans filled the sky as they headed in any direction that would deem them safe from the blue intruder.

I slowly turned and floated back downstream to the boat launch enjoying the stillness of the fall afternoon. I wasn’t alone as an Bald Eagle watched my every move from a perch high in a pine tree that overlooked the river.

I returned to my cabin ready for a cup of coffee. From my new coffee machine purchase. Yes, I was glamping this vacation!

Single cup coffee machine. A new addition to my camping gear.

It was a peaceful night at the State Park cabin. These are wonderful spots, located at this park, in a wooded semi secluded area. They have electricity, table, and beds but no toilet. The cost has increased to $90.00. I paid a few years ago $65.00 at another Minnesota State Park, but still a good value in my opinion.

Friday morning, I woke with a plan to hike before the weekend brought the crowds. I started with a hike up to the fire tower.

I love hiking these icons of Minnesota past timberland history. To think that men spent many lonely endless hours during fire season spotting for the puffs of smoke that could determine ruin for entire areas of forestland. But, the views from these vantage points are always breathtaking.

The South shoreline of Mille Lacs Lake from the fire tower.

The view looking straight down wasn’t bad either.

After hiking the tower and several other trails within the park I went to a local restaurant and had a wonderful walleye lunch.

The view of the lake from my inside seat was wonderful and the conversation with the local wait staff enlightening. Let’s just say I think that there seems to be either a lack of information in that rural area or maybe a lack of trust in government. With that in mind I read just yesterday that Mille Lacs area hospitals are now overwhelmed with COVID patients in their ICUs. I find that sad.

So let’s all be like the rock from Mille Lacs Kathio State Park. Enjoy what we all can, when we can, with respect to each other and to nature.