I've been drawing a lot more than usual lately and now my wrist fucking hurts. I have an appointment with the doctor next week. In the mean time I've been using a wrist warmer + pieces of cardboard as a makeshift brace/splint to keep my wrist neutral, and if anyone has stretches or something I could do, I am all ears.
Yesterday, we decided to do our usual attempt to see moose at Moose Viewing Trail. We are past moose season, really. I mean, moose are out here in the woods. It’s possible to see one. But, tourists, like ourselves, are more likely to see moose during calving, which is earlier in the year--in May.
Moose are sometimes more active in the early morning hours, so to sweeten the “how about we get up at the crack of dawn?” deal for our late risers in the house (namely Mason), we decided that once we have attempted to moose view, we would hit the new nearby coffee shop called Loon’s Rest.
We did not see any moose at Moose Viewing as expected.
Image: Moose Viewing view (Note: No Moose.)
The other funky thing about Moose Viewing trail is the fact that as you turn in to the official Moose Viewing platform, there is a myserious abandoned car. There are a lot of questions about this car. How did it get here? When did it get here? How did the boulder get on top of it?
Image: car in woods?
We ran into a couple of well-equipped hikers from Oklahoma who were perhaps a little too eager for moose. We gave our best advice, which was hang out as long as you can and be quiet—and, you know? Maybe they got lucky. I hope they did.
The Loon’s Nest was entirely full of old, white men (but one can sort of say that generally about the Gunflint Trail.) The espresso was perfectly adequate as were the croissant, egg, and sausage patties.
I did not attempt a big walk yesterday, since I wanted to save my strength for canoeing. Mason and I had yet to get out in the lake. When we did, it was the first time in a long time that Mason was in charge of steering. It took us a little time to figure out our rhythm, but once we got going we were amazing. We canoed out past the point to a part of Bearskin that Shawn and I call “capsize cove” thanks to a certain incident several years ago. There is a lovely beaver dam out in the cove. We fought the wind coming back, but it was actually fairly energizing.
An absolutely lovely day all told.
And, now…. More wildflowers for identification!
A purple wildflower of some kind!
False lily-of-the-valley?
What I read
Gail Godwin, Getting to Know Death: A Meditation (2024) - rather slight, one for the completist, which I suppose I am.
Robert Rodi, Bitch Goddess (2014): 'told entirely through interviews, e-mails, fan magazine puff pieces, film reviews, shooting scripts, greeting cards, extortion notes, and court depositions', the story of the star of a lot of dire B-movies who has a later-life move into soap-stardom. I hadn't read this one before and it was a lot of campy fun.
TC Parker, Tradwife (2024) - another of those mystery/thrillers which riffs off true-crime style investigation - somebody here I think mentioned it? - I thought it went a few narrative twists too far though was pretty readable up till then.
On the go
Apart from those, still ticking on with Upton Sinclair, Wide Is The Gate (Lanny Budd, #4), boy I am glad that I am reading these in e-form, because they must be monstrous great bricks otherwise. In this one he actually ventures back to Germany, his marriage starts to crumble, he continues his delicate dance between all the various opposed interests in his life while managing to get support to the anti-Nazi/Fascist cause, Spain is now in the picture, and I have just seen a passing mention to Earl Russell being sent down for his Reno divorce (that wasn't quite the story, but one can quite imagine that was what gossip might have made of it 30 years down the line).
Up next
New Literary Review.
The three books for the essay review.
I think more Robert Rodi might be a nice change of pace from Lanny's ordeals.
It's a cold, surreal post-apocalyptic world, plagued by meteor showers, crumbling apartments patrolled by tigers, one where former tar-spreading technicians repurpose themselves as morning soup sellers. Bobby is wakened by a knocking at his door. He doesn't open it, but he's told, through the closed door, that Belle-Medusa, an immensely huge jellyfish, needs his help. Belle-Medusa has a library of scents in her memory, but they're mainly ocean scents. She wants Bobby to collect and convey land scents to her:
For this purpose, Belle-Medusa has already "plugged into" Bobby. There are various ways he can convey the scents to her, but the way he settles on is to plunge his face into water and speak them.
( Heh, this got long. Let's put in a cut. )
It's a strange and wonderful story, and I recommend it. I read it in an anthology called XO Orpheus: Fifty New Myths, edited by Kate Bernheimer and published in 2013. The anthology was lent to me by a friend who had picked out that story especially for me to read because (I'm flattered to say), they said it reminded me of the story of mine they'd read--and also, I suspect, because the story's important to them: it's entered their vocabulary. They talk about their scent library. The other stories in the collection look promising too; while I'm borrowing the book, I think I'll read some more.
It also exists as a 64-page standalone publication, but only in its original French, as Belle-Méduse. For the anthology, the translation was done by Sarah and Brian Evenson.
*Manuela Draeger is a fictitious author, a librarian whose stories are intended as distraction for children in containment camps. The author of her world is Antoine Volodine ... which is in turn a pen name of the writer Jean Desvignes.
In truth, she only had one passion anymore: she collected smells. Aromas, perfumes, whiffs, and scents of all types. She numbered them and she put them in tiny special cases in her memory, in a classification system that nobody, apart from herself, was able to understand.
For this purpose, Belle-Medusa has already "plugged into" Bobby. There are various ways he can convey the scents to her, but the way he settles on is to plunge his face into water and speak them.
I had my cheek pressed against the windowpane. Just under my nose, fed by the steam that escaped from my mouth, the frost drew branching ice wisps, which imprisoned the dust. If I had had to specify the smell that lingered on the surface of the glass, I would have spoken of a dusty ice floe, of frozen goose down, of dark sherbet. Wait, I thought, maybe I could send that to Belle-Medusa, in order to check that the communication between us is well established.
I left my observation post. I groped my way to the bathroom and I filled the sink with what flowed from the faucet, water that carried with it cubes and needles of ice. Before immersing my face, I had to stir it with my hand so as not to use the end of my nose to break the film threatening to form ... I sank my head into it to my ears.
"It's me, Belle-Medusa," I said.
( Heh, this got long. Let's put in a cut. )
It's a strange and wonderful story, and I recommend it. I read it in an anthology called XO Orpheus: Fifty New Myths, edited by Kate Bernheimer and published in 2013. The anthology was lent to me by a friend who had picked out that story especially for me to read because (I'm flattered to say), they said it reminded me of the story of mine they'd read--and also, I suspect, because the story's important to them: it's entered their vocabulary. They talk about their scent library. The other stories in the collection look promising too; while I'm borrowing the book, I think I'll read some more.
It also exists as a 64-page standalone publication, but only in its original French, as Belle-Méduse. For the anthology, the translation was done by Sarah and Brian Evenson.
*Manuela Draeger is a fictitious author, a librarian whose stories are intended as distraction for children in containment camps. The author of her world is Antoine Volodine ... which is in turn a pen name of the writer Jean Desvignes.
I've seen a bunch of wildlife around lately (fawns, a downy woodpecker, red shouldered hawks, cottontail rabbits, hummingbirds), which has brighten my day over the last week or so.
I first got interested in Sophie Clark's "Cruel is the Light" because the cover is really pretty (art by Mona Finden, art direction by Ben Hughes). I wasn't going to read it because while the marketing said "enemies to lovers" the summary wasn't sound "enemy-ing" enough.
Then the Pope died.
And I thought I'd read a book sent mostly in Rome because I had no idea what to read next, fiction-wise.
Cruel is the Light is... Fine. It's fine. It indeed isn't enemies to lovers, it's more rivals to lovers forbidden love fake dating. The love story isn't unbelievable, anymore than any two week love story is. I guessed both that
from the summary
Jules was a demonfrom early in the book
the Vatican's god was a demonThen the Pope died.
Ok, in the book he's "Exorcist Primus". Point is they're going to be doing X-Treme Conclave next book and I am intrigued.
Under the circumstances, I had different weird dreams than I would have expected: writing a poem, watching some incredibly threadbare film noir with no waking equivalent, hearing a performance from a musical theater star ditto. I am beginning to think the pop culture of my dreams actually is the hell of a good video store next door, leavened in the last few nights by dreams of re-reading real-life authors currently in storage like P.C. Hodgell or Joan D. Vinge. I remain physically fried, news at nowhen. At least the rain seems to have kept off the neighborly leafblowing which perforated so much of yesterday. The news continues to feel like stupidly lethal cosplay, which I remember from the last round of this administration, which doesn't make me hate it less.
The Sicilian Inheritance by Jo Piazza
I wasn't quite sure what this book wanted to be, it was doing three genres of middlebrow novel all at once and not quite pulling any of them off, but in the end I was not too unhappy to have kept with it.
Sara Marsala, our heroine, is the daughter of a messy Italian-American family. She is dealing with a divorce, the failure of her restaurant, and a general sense of failure and helplessness. When her beloved aunt dies, her aunt's will sends her back to the Old Country of rural Sicily, to Find Her Roots and see if an old deed for a plot of land in Sicily, passed down from her great-grandmother who never made it to America, is still valid. When she arrives in Sicily she is informed that her great grandmother was Murdered, contradicting family lote, and the plot is afoot.
The book tries to be a historical fiction novel about life in early 20th century Sicily, an action packed murder mystery, and an eat pray love European adventure, and the three visions of the book war with each other, not helped by lazy plotting with unjustified expository leaps obscuring story details I wanted to see fleshed out.
But it's the wanted to see fleshed out that frustrated me, because the story concept works and there are some really great characters both in the historical flashbacks and the modern narrative and I really was hoping that things would get worked out with just a bit more craft.
I wasn't quite sure what this book wanted to be, it was doing three genres of middlebrow novel all at once and not quite pulling any of them off, but in the end I was not too unhappy to have kept with it.
Sara Marsala, our heroine, is the daughter of a messy Italian-American family. She is dealing with a divorce, the failure of her restaurant, and a general sense of failure and helplessness. When her beloved aunt dies, her aunt's will sends her back to the Old Country of rural Sicily, to Find Her Roots and see if an old deed for a plot of land in Sicily, passed down from her great-grandmother who never made it to America, is still valid. When she arrives in Sicily she is informed that her great grandmother was Murdered, contradicting family lote, and the plot is afoot.
The book tries to be a historical fiction novel about life in early 20th century Sicily, an action packed murder mystery, and an eat pray love European adventure, and the three visions of the book war with each other, not helped by lazy plotting with unjustified expository leaps obscuring story details I wanted to see fleshed out.
But it's the wanted to see fleshed out that frustrated me, because the story concept works and there are some really great characters both in the historical flashbacks and the modern narrative and I really was hoping that things would get worked out with just a bit more craft.
The weather here has been overcast and rainy. As Shawn told a somewhat uncertain staff person, “It’s gorgeous!” (The staff was concerned that she was being sarcastic. Shawn assured her that she was not.) Our family is very happily indoorsy. So, we spent much of the day inside, by a roaring fire, reading.
However, the weather cleared up on and off, and during one of the ‘on’s, Shawn and I headed out for an early morning canoe. We tend to canoe much like we hike, which is to say, we don’t go all that far, and we glide along at a snail’s pace.
Image: Shawn in a canoe at Bearskin
I’ve also resumed my quest to walk as many of Bearskin’s ski trails as I feel is reasonable. I tend to enjoy a hike to a destination like Sunday’s accidental trip to Rudy Lake, but not all of the ski trails are set up for vistas. In fact, most of them aren’t. A person can tell, even as hiker, how excellent they are for skiers. So many up and down slopes! We are technically in the Pincushion Mountains here, (though people from the Coasts are allowed to scoff at what we call mountains around here.) However, the elevation changes are real! In fact, it usually takes me a few days to get used to the steep slopes. This time, having just come from Middletown, CT, which I feel like was built entirely at a 45-degree angle (all of it uphill!), I didn’t seem to need as much time.
At any rate, this year, I decided to try and find Ox Cart. FYI, an Ox Cart would not make it around this loop. I mean, I guess oxen are strong? But pulling a cart would be tough! Skiing however? It would be glorious.
Bob, the owner of Bearskin, did want to point out that if I walked Ox Cart, I would see the new boardwalk that they installed.
The boardwalk goes over a very marshy, swampy area. A place that my family would call “very moosey,” as this seems to be the sort of areas that we imagine moose tend to enjoy. This is a highly unscientific “hot take,” however. The one time that we saw moose in the wild, while hiking (at, of all places, “Moose Viewing Trail”) there was a place a little like this, though much more lake-y and slightly less boggy/swampy.
Moosey view.
I did not see moose here.
I will note, however, that I did see moose tracks and what was very obviously moose scat on my way back out of this trail. So, perhaps our family is not entirely wrong as to what constitutes a moosey place.
Much of my hike was just woods.
Image: wooded path
However, I have been trying to stop and take pictures of wildflowers that I’ve been seeing on my hikes. Here are a few:
Image: pussy feet? Something like that (looking for id,![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pameladean !)
Image: star flower
However, the weather cleared up on and off, and during one of the ‘on’s, Shawn and I headed out for an early morning canoe. We tend to canoe much like we hike, which is to say, we don’t go all that far, and we glide along at a snail’s pace.
Image: Shawn in a canoe at Bearskin
I’ve also resumed my quest to walk as many of Bearskin’s ski trails as I feel is reasonable. I tend to enjoy a hike to a destination like Sunday’s accidental trip to Rudy Lake, but not all of the ski trails are set up for vistas. In fact, most of them aren’t. A person can tell, even as hiker, how excellent they are for skiers. So many up and down slopes! We are technically in the Pincushion Mountains here, (though people from the Coasts are allowed to scoff at what we call mountains around here.) However, the elevation changes are real! In fact, it usually takes me a few days to get used to the steep slopes. This time, having just come from Middletown, CT, which I feel like was built entirely at a 45-degree angle (all of it uphill!), I didn’t seem to need as much time.
At any rate, this year, I decided to try and find Ox Cart. FYI, an Ox Cart would not make it around this loop. I mean, I guess oxen are strong? But pulling a cart would be tough! Skiing however? It would be glorious.
Bob, the owner of Bearskin, did want to point out that if I walked Ox Cart, I would see the new boardwalk that they installed.
The boardwalk goes over a very marshy, swampy area. A place that my family would call “very moosey,” as this seems to be the sort of areas that we imagine moose tend to enjoy. This is a highly unscientific “hot take,” however. The one time that we saw moose in the wild, while hiking (at, of all places, “Moose Viewing Trail”) there was a place a little like this, though much more lake-y and slightly less boggy/swampy.
Moosey view.
I did not see moose here.
I will note, however, that I did see moose tracks and what was very obviously moose scat on my way back out of this trail. So, perhaps our family is not entirely wrong as to what constitutes a moosey place.
Much of my hike was just woods.
Image: wooded path
However, I have been trying to stop and take pictures of wildflowers that I’ve been seeing on my hikes. Here are a few:
Image: pussy feet? Something like that (looking for id,
pameladean !)Image: star flower
This is one of my longstanding grouches and you are all probably used to it
Jun. 10th, 2025 03:13 pmoursinMy attention, as they say, was drawn to this: Why Have So Many Books by Women Been Lost to History?
The question itself is reasonable, I guess, but what is downright WEIRD is they actually namecheck Persephone Press's acts of rediscovery -
- and one of the first books in their own endeavour is one that PP did early on and being Persephone is STILL IN PRINT.
And one of the others has been repeatedly reprinted as a significant work including by Pandora Press.
Do we think there is a) not checking this sort of thing b) erasure of feminist publishing foremothers?
Okay I pointed out that even Virago were not actually digging up Entirely Forgotten Works (ahem ahem South Riding never out of print and paid for a lot of gels to get to Somerville).
However, this did lead me to look up certain rare faves of mine, and lo and behold, British Library Women Writers have actually just reprinted, all praise to them, GB Stern's The Woman in the Hall, 1939 and never republished. Yay. This to my mind is one of her top works.
Also remark here that Furrowed Middlebrow are bringing back works that have genuinely been hard to get hold of, like the non-Cold Comfort Farm Stella Gibbons, and the early Margery Sharps, and so on. (Though Greyladies had already done Noel Streatfeild as Susan Scarlett.)
Confess I am waiting for the Big Publishing Rediscovery of EBC Jones. Would also not mind maybe some attention to Violet Hunt (unfortunately her life was perhaps so dramatic it has outshone her work? gosh the Wikipedia entry is a bit thin.)
Review copy provided by the publisher.
This is the first book in a duology, and it's the kind of duology that's really one book split into two volumes. The end of this book is merely the stopping point of this book, not in any way an ending. If that bothers you, wait around until the other half is out.
Honestly I can't tell you why I didn't love this book. I wanted to love this book. It's a secondary world fantasy where one of the central relationships of the book is an aunt and nephew, and that kind of non-standard central relationship is absolutely up my alley. It's a fantasy world where magical environmental contamination is a major threat, which is also of great interest to me. Sensitive yet matter-of-fact handling of trans characters, check. Worldbuilding that deviates from standard, check. And there wasn't anything that made me roll my eyes or say ugh! It was just fine! But for me, at least, it was just fine. Honestly if this is your sort of thing I kind of wish you'd read it and tell me what you think might have been going on here, or if it's just...that some books and some people are ships passing in the night.
Here's some thoughts on media I read and watched recently
Little Thieves by Margaret Owen— This YA fantasy novel was really fun! There are lots of heists and disguises. All the moms are terrible but they aren't dead (being Death doesn't count). I really hated all italicized German words (it is not a problem that they were German I just hate it when “foreign” words are italicized, it's both othering and distracting to me as a reader) However this really sucked me in! It’s fast paced and twisty and the worldbuilding feels grounded.
Coffee Prince ep 5-20— I finished this classic of crossdressing girl media. It was cute and fun! I got a great comment on my post about crossdressing girl media about how crossdressing allows women to form friendships with men on more equal footing. This drama really leans into that and the pleasure of being ‘one of the boys” without having to justify oneself.
This did the best job of “The MC thinks he’s gay because he likes the crossdressing FL” that I’ve seen (Though I haven’t seen many) it could be even better but I was pleased with it nonetheless.
(Content note: Blink and you'll miss it miscarriage and fertility issues)
The Sapling Cage by Margaret Killjoy— Somehow no one told me that it is a crossdressing story but trans. That is, the main character is a trans girl who starts the book thinking she’s a boy in disguise. Interestingly she "disguises" herself as a girl so that she can go out into the world and become a witch (mostly crossdressing men in media are trying to access "inner" spaces). The author even thanks Tamora Pierce in her acknowledgments, so it's very clearly part of that tradition.
What people did tell me about this book is that there are a bunch of meetings, in fact I was expecting more meetings based on how much people talked about them.There are some meetings, but they don’t drag out and are often summarized. But I was not expecting it to be quite as brutal as it was, there was a lot of fighting and some killing, and also quite a bit of phillosy about power and making choices. Definitely a book that gave me a lot to think about.
I don’t often go seek out reviews after I read a book, but this one I really wanted to see what other people said about it. I really liked Roseanna’s review.
The Truth Season 3 cases 4-5— I continue to really enjoy this show! I especially liked the set of costumes that looked part of a production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. Also they have been playing with the format in fun ways with these two cases.
Little Thieves by Margaret Owen— This YA fantasy novel was really fun! There are lots of heists and disguises. All the moms are terrible but they aren't dead (being Death doesn't count). I really hated all italicized German words (it is not a problem that they were German I just hate it when “foreign” words are italicized, it's both othering and distracting to me as a reader) However this really sucked me in! It’s fast paced and twisty and the worldbuilding feels grounded.
Coffee Prince ep 5-20— I finished this classic of crossdressing girl media. It was cute and fun! I got a great comment on my post about crossdressing girl media about how crossdressing allows women to form friendships with men on more equal footing. This drama really leans into that and the pleasure of being ‘one of the boys” without having to justify oneself.
This did the best job of “The MC thinks he’s gay because he likes the crossdressing FL” that I’ve seen (Though I haven’t seen many) it could be even better but I was pleased with it nonetheless.
(Content note: Blink and you'll miss it miscarriage and fertility issues)
The Sapling Cage by Margaret Killjoy— Somehow no one told me that it is a crossdressing story but trans. That is, the main character is a trans girl who starts the book thinking she’s a boy in disguise. Interestingly she "disguises" herself as a girl so that she can go out into the world and become a witch (mostly crossdressing men in media are trying to access "inner" spaces). The author even thanks Tamora Pierce in her acknowledgments, so it's very clearly part of that tradition.
What people did tell me about this book is that there are a bunch of meetings, in fact I was expecting more meetings based on how much people talked about them.There are some meetings, but they don’t drag out and are often summarized. But I was not expecting it to be quite as brutal as it was, there was a lot of fighting and some killing, and also quite a bit of phillosy about power and making choices. Definitely a book that gave me a lot to think about.
I don’t often go seek out reviews after I read a book, but this one I really wanted to see what other people said about it. I really liked Roseanna’s review.
The Truth Season 3 cases 4-5— I continue to really enjoy this show! I especially liked the set of costumes that looked part of a production of Midsummer Night’s Dream. Also they have been playing with the format in fun ways with these two cases.
Last week was the one where there was PANIC over whether I would have new supply of prescription drug; credit card issues including FRAUD; and also bizarre phonecall from the musculo-skeletal people about scheduling an appointment which suggested they hadn't looked at my record or are very very confused about what my next session is actually for.
HOWEVER
Though I began writing a review on Wednesday, did a paragraph, and felt totally blank about where it was going from there, I returned to it the following day and lo and behold wrote enough to be considered an actual review, though have been tinkering and polishing since then. But is essentially DONE.
And in the realm of reviewing have received 3 books for essay review, have another one published this month coming sometime, and today heard that my offer to review for Yet Another Venue has been accepted, where can they send the book?
While in other not quite past it news, for many years I was heavily involved in a rather niche archival survey, which is no longer being hosted in its previous useful if rather outdated form but as a spreadsheet (I would say no use to man nor beast but it does have some value I suppose). But there is talk of reviving and updating it (yay) and I have been invited to a meeting to discuss this. Fortunately I can attend virtually rather than at ungodly hour of morning in distant reaches of West London.
Also professional org of which I am A (jolly good?) Fellow is doing a survey and has invited me to attend a virtual Focus Group.
Oh yes, and it looks as though a nerdy letter about Rebecca West I wrote to the Literary Review is likely to get published.
Tags:
One of the things I treated myself to in retirement was a lifetime National Park Pass (because of the senior discount). Which, of course, is only useful if I actually use it. I've been thinking about getting back to doing the occasional short car-camping trip. (Short enough to leave the cats to their own devices, so mostly fairly local. But with some light cat-checkup I could get as far as Crater Lake.)
First step will be to pull out all the camping gear to check that it's clean and in good working order. I have a set-up for the back of the Element with an elevated platform bed with gear stowed underneath. I can take a bicycle, but not the recumbent (which is a good argument for keeping the fold-up Brompton).
At one point I bought a pop-up so that I can set up a larger "living space" off the back of the vehicle, which I haven't ever used yet. So I need to do a test set-up. My plan is to use some of the canvas from my old pavilion to create walls for it, so that I can use it for changing. (Changing clothes while wriggling around in a sleeping bag is for the young and flexible.) So I need to do that.
And then, of course, there's the issue of scheduling reservations, though mid-week availability will help there, I imagine. I haven't found a similar program for state parks -- there's a senior discount program, but it isn't as generous. But state parks are more numerous, of course.
First step will be to pull out all the camping gear to check that it's clean and in good working order. I have a set-up for the back of the Element with an elevated platform bed with gear stowed underneath. I can take a bicycle, but not the recumbent (which is a good argument for keeping the fold-up Brompton).
At one point I bought a pop-up so that I can set up a larger "living space" off the back of the vehicle, which I haven't ever used yet. So I need to do a test set-up. My plan is to use some of the canvas from my old pavilion to create walls for it, so that I can use it for changing. (Changing clothes while wriggling around in a sleeping bag is for the young and flexible.) So I need to do that.
And then, of course, there's the issue of scheduling reservations, though mid-week availability will help there, I imagine. I haven't found a similar program for state parks -- there's a senior discount program, but it isn't as generous. But state parks are more numerous, of course.
We are at Bearskin!
The moon (and traces of Northern Lights) over Bearskin (from Cabin 1)
Yesterday, as usual, we stopped at several sites along Highway 61. We had a late lunch at the “world famous” Betty’s Pie. I do not know if this pie is truly well-known throughout the world, but it was, as they say, damned good pie.
The three of us at Betty's Pies.
As has become typical of us, we stopped to do some agate hunting about a mile north of Two Harbors at Flood Bay. We had to backtrack from Betty’s, but we didn’t care. My family simply cannot be hurried once we’re in vacation mode. Once we’ve made it to Duluth (to-du-loot!) vacation mode has fully activated. “Oh? The thing we wanted to see was back there? Sure, let’s turn around!”
Me and Mason agate hunting at Floor Bay.
I’m not ever sure what an agate looks like when it’s not polished. Not that it matters to any of us. Shawn hands out plastic baggies and we find a nice spot and start hunting. On this trip, it was extra windy. It was already decently cold, maybe mid-50s F/ 10 C. We joked that the windchill made it below freezing! Shawn had to hike back to the car for extra layers.
But, we had a great time just relaxing and sifting through the rocks on the shores of the world’s largest freshwater lake. (And, as Mason loves to point out, a lake so cold that if you’re shipwrecked in it, you don’t rot!)
Mason beach combing
Next was a pitstop at Gooseberry Falls. Sometimes, like a lot of travelers this time of year, we only stop long enough to do our business and then push on. This time, however, Mason and I decided to make the short trek up to see both the high falls and the low falls. Shawn, meanwhile, saved her knee (which is mostly doing well, but technically still in recovery,) for the next beach and hung out in the gift shop looking for, among other things, sweatpants for Mason who—for reasons all his own—decided not to pack any pants for the trip. Only shorts!
Gooseberry Falls, in my opinion, is almost always worth the detour.
Image: Gooseberry Falls
I only remembered after we’d left that I forgot to get my State Park passport stamped! We decided, however, that we would stop in as many State Parks as we could on our route back. Mason and I are also planning a day trip out to Devil’s Kettle, so I have be sure to remember to bring it with me to that hike!
I had advocated for a stop at Iona’s Beach this year but changed my mind after experiencing the wind at Flood Bay. Maybe the weather will be more cooperative on the drive home. Instead, we decided to pull in at Silver Bay to get a gander at "Rocky Taconite."
Image: Rocky Taconite at Silver Bay.
Our last beach of the trip up to the cabin was Cutface Creek Pullout (14 miles north of Lutsen, mile marker 104.) This beach is famous for its thomsonite. Again, I have no idea what thomsonite looks like in the wild (although this might be the year I may have found a piece. I’m going to try polishing it up when we get back home), but this beach generally has cool rocks because it has a ton of mini geodes.
Again, we dawdled. I have no idea how long we spent combing the beaches and listening to the waves. This beach was less windy; it was much more of a natural windbreak/cove.
We managed to miss official check-in at Bearskin (6 pm), which we often do (even leaving the Twin Cities at 9 am), and so followed the instructions to get the cabin key for check-in the next morning. It was still light enough out that Mason and I made the walk up to the Lodge to pick up the aluminum canoe that they on the beach for us out for us. We paddled it to our dock, bungied it up to our private dock for the night, and then settled in for a dinner of brats on the grill.
I fully failed to make a decent fire our first night, but luckily both Shawn and Mason are better skilled at this than I am.
This morning (Sunday) we woke up to rain.
Shawn and I walked down to the Lodge to check in. Because of all of the forest fires that are active in Minnesota right now, the Forest Service has been doing a lot of clearing of what they call “ladder trees,” but also underbrush. The place looks… a little devestated. At least in comparison to what we’re used to. I have been excited to resume my hiking of the ski trails this year and so I wanted to be sure to ask the staff about good trails for less… husbandry, we’ll say. They nicely pointed out where on the map they thought the Forestry Service hadn’t gotten to yet. So, after a quick jog back to Cabin 1 to make sure I had my inhaler, I headed off. I’d intended to slowly get my “sea legs” back, but I missed a turn off and hiked all the way to Rudy Lake.
Image: a pristine lake (Rudy Lake) in the middle of nowhere.
Oops.
It is cool, however. Like, this is a lake you simply can not get to without walking to it. There are no roads to get you here.
However, I am a little sore and may have overdone it already on day one. Hopefully, with a bit of rest and Aleve, I’ll be back at it in no time.
Image: trout lily
The moon (and traces of Northern Lights) over Bearskin (from Cabin 1)
Yesterday, as usual, we stopped at several sites along Highway 61. We had a late lunch at the “world famous” Betty’s Pie. I do not know if this pie is truly well-known throughout the world, but it was, as they say, damned good pie.
The three of us at Betty's Pies.
As has become typical of us, we stopped to do some agate hunting about a mile north of Two Harbors at Flood Bay. We had to backtrack from Betty’s, but we didn’t care. My family simply cannot be hurried once we’re in vacation mode. Once we’ve made it to Duluth (to-du-loot!) vacation mode has fully activated. “Oh? The thing we wanted to see was back there? Sure, let’s turn around!”
Me and Mason agate hunting at Floor Bay.
I’m not ever sure what an agate looks like when it’s not polished. Not that it matters to any of us. Shawn hands out plastic baggies and we find a nice spot and start hunting. On this trip, it was extra windy. It was already decently cold, maybe mid-50s F/ 10 C. We joked that the windchill made it below freezing! Shawn had to hike back to the car for extra layers.
But, we had a great time just relaxing and sifting through the rocks on the shores of the world’s largest freshwater lake. (And, as Mason loves to point out, a lake so cold that if you’re shipwrecked in it, you don’t rot!)
Mason beach combing
Next was a pitstop at Gooseberry Falls. Sometimes, like a lot of travelers this time of year, we only stop long enough to do our business and then push on. This time, however, Mason and I decided to make the short trek up to see both the high falls and the low falls. Shawn, meanwhile, saved her knee (which is mostly doing well, but technically still in recovery,) for the next beach and hung out in the gift shop looking for, among other things, sweatpants for Mason who—for reasons all his own—decided not to pack any pants for the trip. Only shorts!
Gooseberry Falls, in my opinion, is almost always worth the detour.
Image: Gooseberry Falls
I only remembered after we’d left that I forgot to get my State Park passport stamped! We decided, however, that we would stop in as many State Parks as we could on our route back. Mason and I are also planning a day trip out to Devil’s Kettle, so I have be sure to remember to bring it with me to that hike!
I had advocated for a stop at Iona’s Beach this year but changed my mind after experiencing the wind at Flood Bay. Maybe the weather will be more cooperative on the drive home. Instead, we decided to pull in at Silver Bay to get a gander at "Rocky Taconite."
Image: Rocky Taconite at Silver Bay.
Our last beach of the trip up to the cabin was Cutface Creek Pullout (14 miles north of Lutsen, mile marker 104.) This beach is famous for its thomsonite. Again, I have no idea what thomsonite looks like in the wild (although this might be the year I may have found a piece. I’m going to try polishing it up when we get back home), but this beach generally has cool rocks because it has a ton of mini geodes.
Again, we dawdled. I have no idea how long we spent combing the beaches and listening to the waves. This beach was less windy; it was much more of a natural windbreak/cove.
We managed to miss official check-in at Bearskin (6 pm), which we often do (even leaving the Twin Cities at 9 am), and so followed the instructions to get the cabin key for check-in the next morning. It was still light enough out that Mason and I made the walk up to the Lodge to pick up the aluminum canoe that they on the beach for us out for us. We paddled it to our dock, bungied it up to our private dock for the night, and then settled in for a dinner of brats on the grill.
I fully failed to make a decent fire our first night, but luckily both Shawn and Mason are better skilled at this than I am.
This morning (Sunday) we woke up to rain.
Shawn and I walked down to the Lodge to check in. Because of all of the forest fires that are active in Minnesota right now, the Forest Service has been doing a lot of clearing of what they call “ladder trees,” but also underbrush. The place looks… a little devestated. At least in comparison to what we’re used to. I have been excited to resume my hiking of the ski trails this year and so I wanted to be sure to ask the staff about good trails for less… husbandry, we’ll say. They nicely pointed out where on the map they thought the Forestry Service hadn’t gotten to yet. So, after a quick jog back to Cabin 1 to make sure I had my inhaler, I headed off. I’d intended to slowly get my “sea legs” back, but I missed a turn off and hiked all the way to Rudy Lake.
Image: a pristine lake (Rudy Lake) in the middle of nowhere.
Oops.
It is cool, however. Like, this is a lake you simply can not get to without walking to it. There are no roads to get you here.
However, I am a little sore and may have overdone it already on day one. Hopefully, with a bit of rest and Aleve, I’ll be back at it in no time.
Image: trout lily
I've belatedly found a way to view timecodes with milliseconds, which should make it much easier (and faster) for me to time subtitles (I'd been using VLC and guessing on the millisends and rewatching and adjusting stuff a bunch of times).
It would be neither entirely fair nor completely accurate to say that the second season of Andor (2022–25) holocausted too close to the sun for my tolerance, but it got a lot closer than I had thought was possible.
( Nervous, tired, desensitized. )
tl;dr we will be returning to the series once I cool down and the news out of L.A. and D.C. could stop being quite so bleeding-edge at any second. I should decompress with some queer film.
( Nervous, tired, desensitized. )
tl;dr we will be returning to the series once I cool down and the news out of L.A. and D.C. could stop being quite so bleeding-edge at any second. I should decompress with some queer film.