The first drip of the year. Let the maple season begin.

March 31, 2014 – Monday

31 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

The following might be of some interest to the teachers who read this.

I just finished grading a bit of research conducted by one of my graduate students at the University of Alaska – Southeast, and learned that the starting salary for a first year teacher in Alaska is around $43,000 per year with $2,000 yearly increments until the 8^th to 10^th years of teaching, at which time they increase by $4,000 a year until a maximum of approximately $83,000 is reached. And yet, Alaska has a difficult time retaining its teachers.

Lest you click your tongue at such high salaries, remember the cost of living and transportation in the Last Great Frontier. One of the biggest reasons I retired to the UP of Michigan was because my retirement dollar goes about two to three times further here than in Alaska. With that equation in mind, the starting teaching salary would only be around $14,000 to $20,000 a year with a top of $25,000 to $40,000 at the end. Doesn’t look nearly as attractive now, does it?

By the way, Alaska teacher salaries aren’t the highest in the US. As I remember, California, Illinois, Wyoming, and several eastern states and are higher. Alaska doesn’t even rank in the top five.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

This is just a small portion of the old spiles and spouts I've collected over the years. Most are from the Civil War era or the turn of the last century.

Sunday was maple day on Pentoga Road. I started fairly early sterilizing the spouts, cutting twine, and making a slit in the gallon freezer bags that would eventually be hanging on the spouts. Once outside, it took only a short while to remove the tubes and plastic spouts used the day before. By noon, thirty-five trees were tapped in the north woods.

Sisal twine used to secure the bags onto the spouts

A small slit is made on the upper side in which to insert the spout

Sargie and I took a break and traveled into town to run a few errands. It was a beautiful day, in the upper 40’s, sunny and bright.

We began tapping the south woods around mid-afternoon. Walking was difficult in the soft snow so I suggested we climb aboard the snowmobile. I drove, Sargie rode behind. She’s more trusting than I’d be.

We’d gone less than fifty feet when I got off the trail and the snowmobile tipped to one side, dumping us in four feet of very wet snow.

Sargie was laughing, as was I, until I felt the water seeping through my clothes and told her to hurry and get up. She couldn’t. I was lying on top of her and the snowmobile was lying over both of us. We were in such a tangled mess that all we could really do was lay there and laugh. The more we laughed, the more helpless we were.

At one point, Brutus thought he’d help and walked up, stood over me, and started licking my face, which resulted in stern rebukes and even more laughter.

The snowmobile was eventually righted, but we managed to get it stuck later on. As of now, the machine is in the woods where it will remain until colder temperatures arrive and I’m able to drive it home.

There was an exhausted pup and two very tired kids on Pentoga Road last night. 

Brutus had been at my side all day, protecting me from the countless maple monsters that roam our woods. At one point last night, the delicate pooch fell asleep while sitting on the floor with his head on my lap and almost fell over.

Sargie works early today. I’m going to do my five mile walk, then after, get the stove pipe and pans for the boiler that have been stored up in the rafters of the barn. I’ll keep what sap has run until there’s enough to make the first batch of syrup, a hundred gallons or so. With only sixty-five taps, I won’t have to boil daily unless there’s really a hard run. Collecting should only take an hour or so twice a day.

It’s time to get another cup of tea, think some deep thoughts, and listen to the news.

After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

March 30, 2014 – Sunday

24 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

I awakened at 3 this morning, my mind speeding a mile a minute. I was still awake two hours later and finally gave up any hope of falling back to sleep.

For whatever reason, usually during the very early morning, my mind can find the smallest minute subject and dwell on it for hours. This morning’s dealt with yesterday’s dismal failure at installing tubing in the maple woods. I can’t see the clear plastic and ran into all sorts of difficulties, everything from wrong cuts to tripping over it.

Installing the tubing is easy enough, but seeing the stuff is a different story. I tripped several times and generally, I’d regain my footing. But those few times I didn’t, I found myself lying in deep and wet snow resulting in my clothes getting soaked. I wasn’t having any fun. In fact, I was miserable and for one of the few times in my life, I just wanted to get out of the woods.

I tried using the magnifiers so I might have a clearer picture, but they are too strong and did nothing but make me seasick. I was constantly flipping them up, then putting them down, then flipping them up, and so on. I began sweating and they continually fogged up.

I also think I’m having trouble switching methods of sap gathering. I’ve used the same spiles or spouts, most made and hand forged during the Civil War era, for years. I love my hundred and fifty year-old spouts, those used to tap into a tree. I delight when I see a full bag and feel the weight of the sap.

I made a corporate decision while lying on my back and staring up at the ceiling during the wee hours of this early morning. I'm going to rip out yesterday’s tubes and plastic ware. As the kids say, I’m going Old School, which is exactly where I belong. Yesterday’s efforts are going to be replaced with simple cast spouts, meaning that this year, I’ll do as I’ve done in the past, walk from tree to tree with five gallon buckets. I won’t have to worry about cutting tubing then not seeing and tripping over central lines. How well I see won’t matter. The weight of the water will tell me what I need to know.

Rather than tap almost two hundred trees like last year, I’m going to pare my efforts down to fifty, maybe seventy-five. But the number of trees isn’t the point, it’s that I enjoy doing it. This old dog thought he wanted to learn a new trick, but that’s not going to happen. I love the woods. No amount of plastic is going to change that.

Sargie took the following pictures Friday morning after the big snow. Almost all show me chewing on my tongue like a little kid. I thought I gave that up when I turned five years old.

I walked my usual five miles Saturday morning. It was a perfect morning, warm temperatures, lots of sun, and no wind, and had I not wanted to begin working in the maple woods, I’d have probably continued around “the block” and hiked another seven miles.

The used tubing and plastic spouts were filthy and I spent most the morning in the kitchen disinfecting everything. In the end, I’m still not sure it was as clean as it should have been, but I gave it the old college try.

I already described the frustrations encountered in installing the newer collection method. By mid-afternoon, I’d only tapped sixteen trees and fallen twenty or thirty times. Frustrated and exhausted beyond belief, I quit and came back to the house thinking that I might skip this maple season.

Sargie had to close last night and didn’t get home until late. I was tired, had a headache, and was in a lousy mood. We gabbed a bit and had a bite to eat, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I headed up the stairs and immediately fell asleep. I’m not sure what time Sargie joined me.

So today’s going to be a better one. In fact, I can hardly wait for daylight to begin ripping out the tubing installed yesterday and replacing the plastic fittings with real, honest-to-goodness, old-fashioned, Civil War era, forged spouts. In fact, the sooner I get that plastic out of my woods, the better I’ll like it. It will be one less thing for me to trip over.

Sargie’s off today. Hmm, I wonder if I can talk her into becoming Maple Girl for an hour or two. Actually, I don’t have to talk her into anything. She gladly helped last year and we talked and gabbed while tapping trees. With a sunny and warm day forecast, I bet history will repeat itself and we’ll be back in the woods together this afternoon.

It’s time for this old dog to get another cup of tea and begin grading assignments. The sun will be up soon and there’s plenty to do in the woods. As they say, I’ve got to make hay while the sun shines, or in my case, tap some trees.

After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Brutus is good at getting me out of the woods, but he's a pain in the backside when I'm shoveling snow.

March 29, 2014 – Saturday

22 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

Anyone who’s been reading this daily blurb on a regular basis knew it was

bound to happen and yesterday it did. I bought a backhoe, the one out of California that I’ve mentioned on many occasions.

Once I’d made up my mind, I had to figure out the financial angles of how I might actually buy the thing and not lose any money due to interest charges. The way I saw it, there were several options.

The first was simply taking the money out of my savings account and paying cash, but that’s my emergency money. I try to keep enough that should something  catastrophic occur, I won’t have to sell Brutus, Sargie, and the family farm.

The second option was conventional financing, but who wants to pay interest?

The third was to finance the amount on my Alaska Airlines credit card so I could earn the miles. There was a problem with that.  To not have to pay any interest would require I withdraw money from savings before the end of the month and pay the principal in full.

And the fourth option; pay with the Alaska Airlines credit card for the miles, then take advantage of another credit card that offers zero percent financing for a year when using it to pay off balances incurred on another card. BINGO!

I actually financed the large wood chipper several years ago in the same manner. I paid the amount off before a year had passed using a bank’s money interest free.

So the backhoe is ordered and I’ll take delivery in early May. I can already picture rocks being lifted from the ground, mounds of dirt smoothed over, and trails carved through the maple woods, big enough for a pickup truck to navigate.

Friday morning began by plowing and scraping the drive. Several more inches of heavy, wet, snow had fallen during the night and about the best I could do was to make huge mounds alongside the drive. I also cleared the deck the old fashioned way… using my back and a shovel.

Later, I got out the old Ford tractor and moved a large amount of snow to make way for water to run when it begins to melt. Assuming we don’t get another foot or two of snow, we’re ready for the big spring thaw and all the runoff that comes with it.

The county plow finally came through shortly before noon and with the warm temperatures, the roads soon melted bare. 

It was a gorgeous day, highs in the mid thirties and sunny. I busied myself going over the maple trails with the snowmobile and got stuck only one time.

Sargie and I went into town later in the afternoon. I noticed someone had tapped a few maple trees. The bags were flapping in the breeze as nary a drop has run. Soon, I hope, soon.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to make a hitch on the snowmobile so I might pull the two-wheeled wagon. I thought I might be able to mount skis on the wheels, making the wagon into a sled, but after sleeping on it last night, I don’t think it’s going to work and I’m back to square one on how to transport large amounts of sap back to the boiler without a great deal of labor. I’ve still got a day or two to figure it out.

Yooper Brother Mark, Sheri, Sargie, and I, went out for a fish fry last night at a place that had closed a year ago, but has been reopened. 

It was a little bit pricey, but the fish and sweet potato fries were very good. I think the days of inexpensive fish are long gone. I noticed that even the lowly fish filet sandwich at McDonalds has skyrocketed in price.

Sargie closes tonight and it will be a very long day for her. I’m going to dig into the maple tapping supplies and get things ready to go. I need to clean out the remaining fire wood from the boiling/wood shed, assemble the boiler, clean and sterilize all the equipment and pans… it will be a busy day. Tomorrow’s highs are to be in the upper 40’s. It might be time to start.

But meanwhile, there’s tea to sip and deep thoughts to think.

After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

With another six to eight inches of wet snow, even the electric fence wire is sagging. So much for spring.

March 28, 2014 – Friday

24 degrees/overcast – snow/breezy

Pentoga Road

Poor Sargie came through the door last night and was absolutely exhausted. She’d left Iron Mountain around 5 PM and didn’t arrive home until after 8, a drive that normally takes 45 minutes. Wet, sticky, heavy, snow had been falling throughout the afternoon and at one point, the National Weather Service said it was accumulating at the rate of one to two inches an hour.

She was driving the Blazer, but the snow was so sticky that it quickly clogged the tire treads and it was as though she was driving a giant snowball on very slippery roads.

Sargie was coming up a steep hill and the Blazer began to lose traction and came to a halt near the top. A county plow truck came along and backed up to the SUV, spreading sand in front, then the driver asked Sargie if she wanted him to try to get the Blazer up the hill. She gladly agreed and once they reached where he’d sanded, the SUV gained traction.

There was another time Sargie found herself sideways in the road and couldn’t go forwards or backwards. It was the drive from hell, but she made it.

Pentoga Road hasn’t been cleared yet this morning and Sargie’s staying home today. I’m not sure who aged more last night, Sargie, who was white knuckling it all the way home, or me, who was worried sick the entire time.

Yooper Brother Mark picked me up yesterday morning and we made our way to Rock, Michigan. To make a long story short, I didn’t buy the backhoe. We learned that the seller had purchased it four or five years ago and had never used the thing. Meanwhile, it had been sitting the entire time. There were two or three major leaks in the hydraulic system and simply put, the thing didn’t work.

Mark and I believe there may have been more wrong than the seller was telling us as he didn’t offer to replace the leaking fluid so we could see it operate. He simply said it would work fine once filled. We weren’t so sure.

I asked him his bottom dollar. He told me and I countered for exactly half that figuring if I could purchase it cheap enough, I’d be able to replace what was needed and come out okay. He shook his head back and forth we came back home. The last thing I need is someone else’s problems, then have the privilege of getting to spend some major dollars fixing them.

I’ve decided to order a new backhoe out of California. It carries a three-year/parts and labor warrantee and the ratings on the machine are outstanding. In talking with others who have purchased that same model, all, including a couple of gold miners in Alaska, have raved about how well it works and the dependability. Hopefully, I’ll take delivery in May.

Mark and I stopped at Menards Lumber in Escanaba on our way home. I purchased a sand point to drive a well in the garden for irrigation and the necessary couplings. I was going to purchase the sand point in Green Bay, but I found the identical one for almost $15 less. Buying it was a no brainer.  

We arrived back home Thursday afternoon and I began grading papers. Snow started to fall and at one point, I couldn’t see the barn from the living room. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen flakes that numerous and large.

I plowed the drive last night before Sargie arrived home and see that several more inches of snow fell since. I’ll plow again this morning then spend the rest of the day grading papers and final projects. I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere, at least until the county plow comes through.

Yooper Brother Mark just called saying he’d been plowing snow at the plant since 4:30 this morning. He said that at one point, he witnessed an electrical transformer blow somewhere in town and that it was like watching a fireworks display on the Fourth of July.

It’s time to get another cup of tea, get this uploaded, listen to the news, and think a few deep thoughts.

After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

I remember way back when... 48 hours ago when I was lazing in 80 degree weather in Louisiana. I was going over the maple trails on Wednesday and completely missed one. It took quite a bit of digging, lifting, and muttering to get the old beast out of the four feet of snow that still lies in the woods.

March 27, 2014 – Thursday

28 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

It’s a quick one today. Yooper Brother Mark and I are leaving after bit for Rock, Michigan, where we’ll be looking at a towable backhoe. Whether or not I actually purchase one remains to be seen, but it’s worth the effort of going. If the price is right, we may come back with a backhoe on his flatbed trailer. If not, we’ll have a few hours of quality guy-time.

As Dad used to say, I picked ‘em up and put ‘em down, on Wednesday. In other words, I hit the ground running.

After my daily five-mile walk, I began filling out a dictionary-sized packet of papers that are needed to begin receiving my Maine pension in June. I received the packet several weeks ago, but have put off beginning that process, not for lack of wanting the other half of my pension, but because every T and I must be dotted.

I finished around noon and went to town so two of the documents could be notarized. While at the bank, I withdrew the money needed should I want to purchase the backhoe.

I stopped and visited with Yooper Brother Mark for a bit at the plant. We hadn’t seen each other in some time and it was good to talk with him as well as his administrative assistant, Ann.

Back home, I began working on clearing the drive. We’d had several smaller snowfalls last week and it was once again packed with snow. Between using the plow, an eight-inch wide flat chisel/scraper, and a good old-fashioned shovel, I finally got it cleaned down to the blacktop. The sun immediately began melting what was left as soon as the black paving was exposed.

I went over the maple trails with the snowmobile in preparation for maple season. Naturally, I lost sight of one or two and became stuck in three to four feet of snow more than once. I don’t know how this season is going to progress once it really becomes warm and the snow is soft. I’m half tempted to chalk this year off to Mother Nature.

The dead Kindle Fire... what to do with that? In the past three years, I haven't read more than one or two conventional books... it's simply too much work to see the words. But the Kindle Fire, that's a different story! I can enlarge the print and actually enjoy reading for short periods of time.

I began doing some research on the internet and found others had experienced the same mechanical problem as I... that the unit simply refused to turn on. I also read that it could be rebooted, much like a computer.  So, that's what I did, a hard boot, and presto, my reader came to life! After Tuesday's successful television fix (plugging in the power cord) and yesterday's Kindle reawakening, I'm feeling like a real electrical technician.

I ran the sweeper over the floors last night and began the preparations for stuffed baked potatoes for supper.

It had been busy in the Vision Center delaying the beginning of Sargie’s evening by quite a while. Unfortunately, she closes tonight. Some weeks her schedules are diamonds, others they are coal. She’s mining coal this week.

I put a dozen Giant Red Pepper seeds between wet paper towels last evening to sprout. Hopefully, I’ll be planting those in six-packs in four or five days. Every single tomato and pepper seed I sprouted between wet paper towels three weeks ago is growing in the indoor greenhouse. I had a 100% success rate. After last year’s dismal beginning to starting my own bedding plants, I may have discovered the secret of how to do it right. Mostly, it’s called having the right equipment.

It’s time to close and get ready to depart for the bustling burg of Rock, Michigan. Rock is about two hours away towards the east, straight north of Escanaba. Snow is approaching the area, but it’s to be warm enough that we should make it over and back before it gets too bad. Sargie will take the Blazer to work today so she can utilize the four-wheel drive if needed.

I’m going to grab a quick cup of tea and quickly listen to the news.

After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

I arrived home to find that Sargie had completed the final phases of remodeling the kitchen

March 26, 2014 – Wednesday

-11 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

What a relief it is to be home. Who needs those balmy 70 and 80 degree temperatures filled with bright early-spring sunshine, let along all the fruit trees and flowers, the early ones in full blossom. That good southern hospitality, all the wonderful food that’s available in the Deep South, no frozen pipes, and Lord, who can live with all that greenery… grass and leaves and dirt that’s actually not frozen. Those poor Southerners.

Reality hit home as I stepped from the plane into yesterday’s temperatures in the low teens accompanied by wind gusts of twenty-five miles per hour. To paraphrase Dorothy, I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Earlier on Tuesday morning, I attempted to sleep  on an airport bench after writing, but all I managed was a series of catnaps that ended around 4 AM. I need to face reality, after two years of retirement, I’ve lost my airport mojo. Gone are the days of curling up in furthest corner of a remote concourse and snoozing the night away. Oh well, even Babe Ruth reached a period in his life that he didn’t hit a home run every time he stepped up to the plate.

This concourse hallway in Minneapolis looks like something that came from the set of Star Trek.

The most exciting occurrence was running into Sargie’s old PE and History teacher from her high school days while waiting in the gate area in Minneapolis. I enjoyed listening to Bob and his wife talk about the Mighty Milligans, when all eight children were growing up high atop Milligan Mountain.

Downtown Minneapolis

I'm guessing that's where the Minnesota Twins play baseball with the old football dome to the left.

The flight was a bit ahead of schedule and I delighted in calling Sargie and telling her I’d been delayed by an hour, then surprising her and walking into the house just minutes later. We hugged and kissed and laughed and we almost fell like two bowling pins as Brutus pried between us to get his share of attention. It was good to be back home.

I talked with Andy for a bit yesterday afternoon. He worked most the day and all that remains in his house is a couch and television, two essential man-pieces needed until his final walk out the door. The couch is already promised and the television will go into storage.

Speaking of televisions, I was successful in fixing ours. I was going to begin unhooking and sorting the basketball size knot of wires that plug into the back when I noticed there was no power cord.

Outside antenna? Check. Satellite cord? Yup. Cords to the Roku and DVD player? Uh huh. But where was the power cord?

I found it firmly attached and wound around a million other wires, but it wasn’t connected to the television. Evidently, while Sargie was cleaning this past week, it came undone and fell into the abyss of tangled electronics, that pit from digital Hades, that reaches out to entrap not only other wires, but anything that falls from the back of the television.

Sargie has the house and kitchen looking better than ever. She has a real decorator’s touch and the kitchen looks so modern and clean. We’re both really happy the way it turned out. After I insulate from the outside this coming summer, we’ll be able to cross the kitchen off our remodel list, at least until an unknown rich uncle dies and leaves us enough money for new cabinets.

Last night was spent watching television and talking, mostly talking, and getting caught up on this past week’s happenings. I graded a few papers and played a bit of pretend indoor fetch with Brutus. That’s where I roll the ball a few feet into the dining room and he acts like it’s wild prey that needs a bulldog’s attention.

Sargie works today. I have several things on my to-do list; first I’ll ride with her partway to Iron Mountain and walk five miles back home. The final retirement papers from Maine need completing so I can begin collecting that pension in June. There's a used backhoe for sale that I want to inquire about. More specialty pepper seeds arrived from China and need to be sprouted between wet paper towels. If it warms up sufficiently, I’ll begin sorting the maple equipment in the barn, bringing some indoors to be washed and sterilized, and prepare for the season that’s bound to arrive, probably later rather than sooner.

But first, its time for a cup of tea and listen to the news.

After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

The view out our kitchen window

Andy enjoying a breakfast of champions at IHOP Sunday

March 25, 2014 – Tuesday

17 degrees/cloudy/calm

Minneapolis, Minnesota

It’s just a bit past 2 AM and I’m not sure whether I ought to try going back to sleep or stay up for the day. I found a nook here at the airport that has plush padded benches and I enjoyed a three-hour snooze earlier. Unfortunately, the cleaning crew came through with sweepers and floor polishers blazing, resulting in an abrupt end to my slumber.

With our labors finished, Andy and I decided to take a mini-road trip Sunday and drive up to Alexandria, Louisiana, an hour north of Leesville. We had a lot of fun shopping for a new laptop computer for him and I took the opportunity to pick a computer tech’s mind about the best technology to use for teaching while hiking the Appalachian Trail next year.

Andy scored a nice Hewett Packard computer for a mere $9. First off, the machine was on sale. Then when he went to pay for it, my youngest son produced a fistful of gift cards, those he’d received over the past several years as Christmas and birthday presents. When added together, they paid for the computer.

Andy and his best buddy, Tony, setting up his new computer

The tech and I talked about using a tablet with a wifi hotspot (cellular data), and a keyboard when I’m on my hike. It will be charged by a small backpack solar panel, worn on the outside of my pack. The upside is that I ought to be able to teach intermittently on the trail. The downside… cost. It appears I’ll have $600 sunk into the trail/teaching project before it’s all over. The cost is worth it. I don’t want to give up my teaching. It is something I really enjoy and provides a welcome supplement to my regular pension. I’ve dreamed of hiking that darn trail for forty years, I’m not getting any younger and my eyes aren’t getting any better. I think I either attempt the 2,180 mile hike next year or I’ll probably have to forget about it. It’s a one-shot deal.

Andy treated us to a great breakfast at IHop. We both had steak, eggs, hash browns, and all the fixings and walked away an hour later stuffed.

Sunday night was spent returning the U-Haul van and later, watching television.

Monday morning saw us grilling strip steaks on the charcoal grill for breakfast. I decided to have eggs and since we’d packed all the pans, I fried them in butter on a cookie sheet. It worked well. Along with baked potatoes, a farewell breakfast fit for kings was greatly enjoyed.

We left the house today around noon bound for Houston. I hated to tell Andy goodbye at the airport. We have that rare ability to work (and play) side by side for days without seeming to get on each other’s nerves. I’m going to miss my little guy until we see him again.

My flight was half an hour late leaving Houston, but otherwise, was smooth all the way to Minneapolis. Anticipating the twelve-hour layover, I was the last to get off the plane and wandered around looking for a nesting place. I finally found one with the needed criteria, a padded bench on which to lay and a nearby outlet.

I think I’ll walk out into the main terminal and purchase a cup of coffee. There are two or three final projects that have come in plus a few late weekly assignments, certainly enough to keep me busy for a couple of hours. I’ve got a couple of books on my iPhone through the Kindle App, but the print’s too small. I’m going to have to order a new Kindle Fire later this week. My old one shut off last week and has refused to wake up. First the Kindle, then the television; last week was a tough one for electronics on Pentoga Road. It almost makes me wonder if we had a super surge of electricity. Both were plugged in when they died.  

My flight’s due to depart around 11 this morning for Iron Mountain. With any luck, I’ll be home around 1:30 this afternoon. Sargie’s off today and I can hardly wait to see and hold her. I’ve missed her terribly.

Then, of course, there’s our puppy dawg. Though not nearly as beautiful, his enthusiasm will match or exceed that of Sargie’s. I’m prepared for multiple bulldog slurps and kisses and an initial game of blood and guts fetch. It’s what we do.

Next stop, Pentoga Road. But first, it’s time to get this uploaded and hunt down a cup of coffee. There’s little doubt that I’m up for the day.

After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road, by way of Minneapolis, Minnesota…

Sunset on Monday evening from 36,000 feet