Who Are the Real Snow Birds?



I never understood why they call people who flee to warmer climates “snowbirds”. It seems to me that real snowbirds would flock to a place where they can enjoy the cold and snow. Do Snowy Owls migrate to Sanibel Island? For about thirty years my friends and family have been going the opposite direction that sane Minnesotans go in January. We wax the skis, dig out the gaiters, buy a pint of Snowshoe Grog and head north to Ely, Minnesota. For the last twenty of those years we have stayed at the YMCA’s Camp Du Nord off the Echo Trail. The photo above is from last year but it represents the faithful core. Strandemos, Hanson/Lilley family (these are Karen's photos), Deirdre and Ben, Sally and me.

http://www.dunord.org/index.asp>



It is Paradise even at 60 below zero. They have the best cross country ski trails this side of Norway, memorable meals, super staff, the best sauna in the eighth district, and homey, comfortable cabins. The cabin that I love to stay in because it has the most character is called Dane. It was built of logs in the late 1920’s and has a rock fireplace that is the pinnacle of hearth design. There have been years when we watched mice watching us from the comfort of the structures many ledges. This weekend we had seven people staying in Dane. Six people slept upstairs. I had the first floor to myself after they retired. Fire gave the only light. It gave the room the warmest honey color you can imagine. The shadows from each and every log pulsed with the moving flames. It was as if I was falling asleep inside some benignat living thing. In spite of the unusually active days I didn’t want to close my eyes until the fire died.



“How Cold Was It?”

I have a new gold standard for answering that question. Before leaving Ely for the Echo Trail I topped off my gas tank. I was not outside for too long but when I stepped inside the gas station both lenses in my glasses popped out! The temperature difference was beyond the tolerances of the Nautica frame. I inquired about getting a copy of their surveillance tape since, with deft, dumb, and blind instinct I caught both lenses. That is as close as I’ll come to Kirby Puckett’s catch in game six of the ’87 World Series.

Is it Art?



Sarah Pace Johnson, one of the more important members of the local art community for over 30 years, and me, an avid canoeist for 45 years, combined our talents on an art installation at my brother’s cabin home. The title of the 2006 work of wood, oil, and, monofilament is “For His Thoughts as Paddles Served Him”. It is on temporary loan until a willing buyer comes along. Price on request. A boorish philistine was overheard to say that our collaborative artwork was mere decoration. I say they aren't thinking deeply enough.