January 5, 2014 - Monday
-27 degrees/clear/windy
Pentoga Road

Well, darn it, in switching computers, I lost any and all photos I was going to upload for today's log. 

My confusion? The old MacBook Pro is packed and ready to be taken to the Post Office. It's heading to Maine for a rebuild. Most of the commands I do with the Mac are performed automatically, from memory, with no need to pay any real attention to detail. I tried doing a Mac command this morning on the new Chrome Book and erased all the pictures from the portable drive. Lesson learned. 

As I told my buddy, Vince, sending my computer away is like telling Mama and Daddy goodbye before heading off to summer camp fifty-some years ago. I knew I'd see them again, I just wasn't sure I wanted to go. Meanwhile, I'll use the Chromebook for the next couple of weeks.

There's not much to talk about this morning. The past two days can be summed up in three words: cold, colder, and coldest. With a wind chill exceeding -50 this morning, any thoughts of taking a walk are out the door. Knowing I can warm the fish shack to a comfortable temperature may see me going ice fishing this afternoon. Otherwise, I'll stay right here in the house.

Strange, while living north of the Arctic Circle, I didn't think a thing of going fishing when the temperatures were well below zero. 

Just sitting here thinking and remembering...  I survived, even prospered, in horrible blizzard conditions and threw comfort to the wind while riding my snowmobile from one village to the other in near white-out conditions for hours on end, usually camping along an unmarked trail in -40 temperatures, all in the name of education. 

I once figured that when not on the trail, I averaged four hours a day just living; cutting and working up wood, chopping ice or melting snow for water, hunting and/or fishing for food, shoveling feet and feet of snow off the roof and porch.

But today, with the thermometer pushing thirty below zero, I'm going to let someone else lead the charge, whether it's in Alaska or the UP of Michigan, and stay inside, throw wood into the stove, and sip coffee. Call me delicate if you will, or perhaps one might think of my actions as being a bit wiser and more mature.

Fishing was on my agenda on Saturday. I might as well have stayed home. Not one fish was caught, but I made friends with three gentlemen who'd traveled from Norway, Michigan, in search of pike. I spent quite a bit of time socializing with Sam, Barry, and Dwayne, all quite serious fishermen who proved their mettle by carrying a charcoal grill a quarter of a mile out onto the ice. I watched as they smoked venison jerky over hickory and charcoal and enjoyed cold beverages while watching their tip ups. The guys were great about sharing their freshly-smoked venison. It was some of the best I've ever tasted.

I also met Jeremy, who along with his little four-year-old girl, was slaying the northern. He'd caught his limit, five. 

Sunday was spent plowing the drive, running an errand or two in town with Sargie, watching the Lions/Cowboys game, and eventually, going to bed, only to rise several times during the night to throw wood in the stove. 

Sargie was off Sunday and finished transferring all the Christmas decorations into the new, recently purchased, totes. I was carrying two to the storage shed last night when I stepped on the frosty ramp, slipped, and fell onto my right hip. With the thermometer showing -23 and the howling wind blowing snow up (and down) my backside, the only thing broken, other than my manly ego, was my New Year's resolution; the one where I made the promise never to say another swear word for the rest of my life. There'll be a non-skid surface applied to that ramp this coming summer.

So, what's today look like? Sargie's working early, but probably won't get home until past 7. It's a doctor day which means appointments and exams will keep her busy well past her scheduled hours.

Me? I'm going to run errands in town, do some looking at garden plans online, possibly head to the lake this afternoon, take a nice hot shower after, then stay warm under my blankie for the rest of the day. It seems like a wise and mature thing to do.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...