Friday, July 26, 2024

"....And 'Ohana' Means Family"

     For as long as I can remember, my mom and dad took me camping. Our first camper was a pop-up Palomino--it was similar to the one pictured below. Eventually, we graduated to a Mallard, then Coachman Carriage. The only other blood-related family we camped with was my dad's brother, wife, and some of their kids. However, we made various friends with whom we became close during our travels. 

Aunt Hazel and Uncle Earl with their Palomino Pop-up

    About a year ago, one of my cousin's (my dad's brother's kid) with whom my parents and I used to camp decided that we should meet at Baker Regional Park to camp together.

We all stink at remembering to take pics, so there aren't any of us all. 
However, here's one my dad took of me and Wendy at St. Croix State Park!

    Interestingly enough, I camped at Baker Park a lot growing up--just not in the campground. We camped at a group camp with the Minnesota Woodcarvers, of which my dad was a member. I have very fond memories of catching tadpoles in the slough--some of which briefly became frogs in a fishtank in the backyard--and garter snakes in the side of the old barn...and I knew better than to even ask or attempt to bring these home. 

    Tonight I decided to find the group camp we used to stay in, and after two strikes, I found it: it's now known as Marshview Group camp. 

    My memory involved a much longer dirt road into the camp with a steeper hill down into it and a larger, more open space. However, at least 40 years have passed since I was last here; the place has changed, as has my perspective. The barn was still there, though it had been remodeled and the upper part was locked up. 

    And that rock wall that once housed many generations of garter snakes was still there. A few kicked rocks and a brush of the grass around it didn't make anything stir, and I was disappointed. The slough was now filled in with cattails and other aquatic grasses. Yet the place still exists. 


    I'm working this into a metaphor for friendships. At least, I'm trying to.

As I've been traveling, I've made stops to reconnect with friends. First, I met up with Tammy Poitra, my good friend who lives in Dunseith. She is like a sister to me. 

    My second stop was at Northwest Acres in Stephen, Minnesota, where Lynn and Shelly Safranski came to meet me. Although the marriage through which we met dissolved, the friendship is still there. 15 years had passed since we'd last seen each other. We chatted easily about our pasts, presents, and hoped-for futures. Because I always forget to take pics, I will use this bag of strawberries--known as ode'min, or heart berry, in Ojibwe culture--to represent that visit.

    Then I stopped in Orr, Minnesota, at Pine Acres, where my friend Toni Wakemup and her fiance Chuck came to visit me at the campground. Again, we chatted like the ten years since we'd last seen each other and almost twenty years since we'd worked together hadn't gone by.

    After my next stop at Scenic State Park in Bigfork, Minnesota, I stayed at Bear Head and Vermillion State Parks, then trekked up to northwestern Burntside Lake near Ely, where I visited with my cousin Julie and her husband Dan Hirsch. Due to heavy rains, a couple sections of the road that lead to their cabin washed out (one of them is pictured below--but St. Louis County road crews came through! It hadn't been too long--less than a year--since I'd seen them at her sister Mary's and her husband Mark's house. Much to our surprise and happiness, our dogs--both of whom can be reactive towards some other dogs--met and didn't react! 

    Down to St. Croix State Park I went to met Tommy Rattles, whom I have kept in touch via text and social media but hadn't seen in person for about ten years. We hung out for the day and he helped keep Pluto company while I did laundry and grabbed some groceries. "It was a gooder day," as he says. Waab was a punk, however, and hid the entire time we hung out at the campground. Again, I failed to take pics of us.

    In Maple Plain, Minnesota, at the Baker Regional Park campground, I camped with some cousins and others came for a visit. Wendy and her husband Jim were there. This time, because it was closer to the Cities, her son Jake and his fiancee Nilou and her daughter Emily and her wife Cathy also came out to camp. I have only met Nilou once or twice before and I haven't spent much time with Cathy, so it was great to get to know them all a bit more. A friend from high school whom I hadn't seen in about 10 years, Sara Renner, came out to visit for an evening. My cousin Jen and one of her daughters Sammy visited one day, and it was awesome to reconnect with Jen, whom I hadn't seen for a few years, and get to know Sammy, who is this sweet old soul. 

    My extended family--Dan and Sue; one of their daughters Erica, her husband Kurt, and one of their kids Alden; Kristine, her son Ian and daughter Ilianna; and Kingsley and Manu--came to picnic, visit and spend some time on the water, too. I see them at least once a year, and it's always good to spend time together. The boys hadn't seen Pluto for about 5 years, so that was fun.

    From Baker, I headed north to Mille Lacs Kathio State Park. Cousin Jen brought her mom Gloria up for a visit and I made them a stir fry. I haven't seen Gloria in a few years and it was good to catch up a bit.  

    After a stop at Charles A. Lindbergh State Park in Little Falls, I went to Itasca State Park, where the most coincidental and longest-time-since-seeing reunions occurred.

    One of my best friends and I discovered that we'd be camping at Itasca during the same weekend. I had booked a site for camping, and one of her other good friends had booked a weekend through I Can Camp, a program the Minnesota DNR started to teach people essential camping skills. 



    I hadn't seen Jessica or Patrick since we'd graduated from high school 35 years ago. Through social media, Jessica and I connected and decided it'd be fun to camp and visit together at Itasca. They also accompanied me troll hunting in and around Detroit Lakes.

    Every reconnection made and every visit confirmed this: the ties that bind may stretch, but those tethers seldom break. I am grateful for every visit and hug. Ohana.



Sunday, June 30, 2024

The Joy of the Trail

 

“Because of the dog's joyfulness, our own is increased. It is no small gift. It is not the least reason why we should honor as well as love the dog of our own life, and the dog down the street, and all the dogs not yet born. What would the world be like without music or rivers or the green and tender grass? What would this world be like without dogs?” 
― Mary Oliver, Dog Songs: Poems

As some of you know, it's been a difficult year. Not everything--and certainly not everyone--has made it so. Personally, I do not want to walk into the future lugging this bag of anger and negativity. I'm leaving it on the trail. This trip to Minnesota is all about reconnecting with my people--those who have been a part of my journey--and moving forward. 

Waab, Pluto, and I beginning our adventure

Last evening, two people I have missed came to my camper to visit--Lynn and Shelly Safranski. Lynn is very good friends with an ex of mine, and that's how I met him and his wife Shelly. Shelly and I were becoming close...but then the relationship with my ex unraveled. 

Although we haven't talked for many years and hadn't seen each other for about 15 years (when we randomly ran into each other at a casino), we've somewhat kept in touch on FB. When I knew I'd be traveling close to where they live, I thought it would be good to reconnect, so I found a spot to camp that's about 15 minutes from their house. 

Over the course of a 4-hour visit, we caught up a bit (turns out a lot of big and little stuff happens in fifteen years). Talking with them was as easy as it always had been. You know a friendship is solid when it just feels nice to spend time together without awkwardness. Shelly brought this bomb-ass chicken dumpling soup that we had for supper and gave me a stash of strawberries from her garden. I did my best to reciprocate with a loaf of rhubarb bread.

Today is Day 3 of my extended trek into Minnesota, the land I was born to. In addition to this state being home to many people I love, the land and everything on it--the trees, the grasses, and the flowers--all feel like home. 

Pluto and I checked out Old Mill State Park. I drove through the campground area, which was really pretty...but there wasn't a soul in it. The entire park itself is, in fact, not staffed. The park is also fairly remote. That did not feel like a safe place to camp alone, so I think I'm better off where I'm at. They did have some beautiful woodland and prairie trails there, though. 


Middle River in Old Mill State Park

I would like to think that the earth here remembers me; when I put down my offering at the beginning of today's hike, I thanked her for the grace and beauty she's shown me and the kindness of strangers and comfort of friends I haven't seen for many, many years. The answer was a breathy breeze of acknowledgment.

After that greeting, Pluto and I proceeded to hike about 4 miles of trails through woods and prairie. Hiking with him is a lot of fun--he sniffs random things, which makes me pause and look around to take in the moment and the scene around us. He becomes excited and pulls towards what makes him curious, hauling me in tow. Could I tell him to slow down and back off? Absolutely...and if it's dangerous or otherwise inappropriate, I do. Sometimes, he just stops and looks at me with what seems to be an expression of happy gratitude. Maybe he's mirroring the way I feel, because I am grateful for such a great hiking partner. 

The smiles say it all: we love this life!


Today, Pluto and I hiked the trails for about 3 hours until he led me back to the pickup. 

I don't know what this world would be like without dogs, and I hope to never find out. 

Hiking a trail at Icelandic State Park (Cavalier, ND)