October 1, 2012 – Monday

34 degrees

Pentoga Road

I’m still full from last night’s meal of fried fish, zucchini, and spuds. Why do we subject ourselves to such agony? Oh, wait, I remember… because it tastes so good!

Where’s the internet this morning? It appears the signal vacated the premises during the night. I’ve been so happy with the service for the past month. It’s been perfect. Hopefully, the signal will reappear before it’s time to upload the log.

While Sargie was doing her early morning girl stuff Sunday, I finished digging the potatoes. Several are the largest Pontiac Reds I’ve ever seen and estimate out of a five-pound bag of seed potatoes, around sixty pounds of spuds were harvested.

Sunday was moving day for big stuff. I piloted the Man Truck with Sargie riding in the right hand seat. Together, we rumbled down the highway often causing those who became stacked behind us to grow impatient for passing lanes or straight stretches. In my younger years, I used to swear at my misfortunate when coming upon an old guy driving a man truck at less than the speed limit on a narrow and curvy two-lane road.

 

Sargie has a park bench that belonged to one of her aunts weighing in the vicinity of a million pounds, give or take eight or ten. Along with a chest that obviously had six or seven boat anchors along with a semi-load of anvils in each drawer, and other goodies too numerous to mention, all were transported either home or to the storage unit for safekeeping.

The biggest news of the day wasn’t the move, but rather of the peak fall colors. Sargie was yesterday’s photographer and snapped pictures the entire way to and from her house.

It seemed around every curve lay a new palate of brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges, and regardless the subject, our conversations came back to how beautiful this country called the UP is. I hope to always carry a picture of yesterday’s beauty in my mind. It ranks right up there with the mountains and water of Sitka, the remoteness of the arctic, or the big woods of Maine.

I was just proof reading this… and how lucky I’ve been to have lived in some of North America’s most beautiful places. The never-ending woods and water of northern Maine along with its rapids and swift flowing rivers seemed to be the most beautiful place on earth. I well remember the first time I stepped off the plane in Kotzebue, Alaska, and was stunned at how BIG everything seemed, mostly the emptiness and expanse of the arctic. When I first looked at the majestic Brooks Range from the seat of a snowmobile and wondered how I might find a pass through them, I wiped away an emotional frozen tear. I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

Years later, perched on a rock, several thousand feet over Sitka Sound, I told myself this was the most impressive place I’d ever been. The mountains. The water. The sheer ruggedness of southeast Alaska…

And Sunday, the colors were almost too much for the human mind to absorb all at once. I found myself once again thinking this truly is the most beautiful place on earth.

We arrived home by mid afternoon and I immediately turned on the Packers/Saints football game. Every timeout, commercial, or between quarters, I’d dash out to the truck and help Sargie unload. At halftime, I began frying fish and taters.

I think anyone who is a Packer fan might have aged a few years during yesterday’s contest, but in the end, we triumphed despite another lousy referee’s call. As I mentioned to Andy during our long distance post game conversation, if the Pack didn’t have bad luck so far this year, they’d have none. Maybe with yesterday’s victory, their fortunes are changing.

We enjoyed a quiet Sunday evening sharing the big recliner with a blanket wrapped around us in front of the television. Bedtime came shortly before ten. It had been a long day of driving, moving, and helping the Packers win from afar.

Sargie is off early today. I think we’ll have left over southern style ribs for supper and a salad. Meanwhile, I’m undecided whether to go fishing or begin chipping some of the thousands of popple saplings for mulch. I rather imagine I’ll stay home and work. It’s going to be another beautiful day and there’s so much to do before snow flies.

Trapping season begins two weeks from today. I need to take a day or two to boil and dye the traps and get everything ready. Other than a coyote stretcher, when it comes to traps and equipment, I think I’m ready to go.

The sun is rising and skies are becoming light. It’s time to greet the day.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…