Getting ready to paddle down the Brule River on Saturday
Mark, me, Curtis, Sarah

June 26, 2016 - Sunday

67 degrees/sunny/breezy

Pentoga Road

It's a hap-hap-happy birthday to Mom! At a very young 89 years old, Mom's still firing on all eight cylinders and going strong. We're going to celebrate by eating fried chicken, taters, some sweet corn, and angel food cake. Also, we're going to get out the old slides that Dad took many years ago of our family vacations from the 50's and 60's. It's Mom's day and we'll make happen whatever she wants. Heck, we're not even going to make her haul wood or stem strawberries. (You might remember that it was two years ago when she was helping with firewood that she suffered heart failure that led to open heart surgery and a double bypass. She's been banned from the wood pile since.) I'll be sure to post pictures on tomorrow morning's log.

Page Two:

Saturday was spent on the river with Yooper Brother Mark, Sarah, and Curtis. We had a lot of fun and paddled the sixteen miles in five hours.

As usual, I'll let the pictures do the talking. They tell the story better than I can.

Sarah continued her love affair with the bushes. I'm not sure why, when she has the entire river in which to paddle, she enjoys crashing into the bushes so much!

Sixteen miles later, the Pentoga Bridge. Wisconsin is on the right, Michigan on the left.

We were unloading the kayaks at home when I happened to look on the bottom of one foot. Seems I picked up a little buddy on the way down the river, a leech.

Mom came out to greet us. She'd spent the day listening to music, reading a good book, and I suspect she might have taken a nap or two.

I was famished and Mom said she could eat something. What better post-paddle/nap survival foods than ice cream sundaes covered with freshly picked strawberries?

Sargie arrived home around 6:30 and we enjoyed lasagna and beet greens for supper. Shortly before dark, she looked out the window and saw Brutus going through some strange bulldog antics. Upon further investigation, we saw he and a weasel were dueling, but really, only the weasel was serious, Brutus was merely playing.

That weasel's not in Brutus's mouth, but rather firmly clamped onto his lip. The pup didn't seem to feel it. They went back and forth for over an hour. Finally, I called Brutus into the house and the weasel scampered into the woods. We called the wrestling match a tie.

A notice came across the television warning of severe, imminent, storms. I quickly opened up the computer and checked the radar.

In the end, the bark was worse than the bite, but we received a needed 1.25 inches of rain. 

It's sunny, hot, and humid, again today with a high of eighty-six degrees forecast. Tomorrow is to reach only sixty. From shorts to flannel shirts and jeans in less than twenty-four hours.

It's time to get this uploaded and think about baking Mom's cake. After that, who knows? No doubt, it will be party time on Pentoga Road. Mom cuts a big swath you know!

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...