A trip down memory lane from ten years ago
I snapped this early morning picture while sitting on the steps of the one-room school house in Edna Bay, Alaska

March 19, 2017 - Sunday

23 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Edna Bay's entire school population
On the left is my student intern and the only teacher for the school. It was an on-the-job opportunity for the young man. He stayed for only one year.

Let's see, tomorrow at this time, I should be this side of Rhinelander, Wisconsin, heading south towards Mom's in Terre Haute, Indiana. 

The pre-trip check list ebbs and flows. Three things get crossed off, four are added. Who knew going on a simple trip could be so difficult? 

During my bush Alaska traveling days with the university, I kept an emergency tote packed along with another containing overnight items and heavy clothes.

My usual mode of transportation during the arctic years.
Model of snowmobile? A Tundra of course!

On the morning of departure, either on snowmobile, boat, or bush plane, I needed only to grab my toothbrush along with a few daily necessities. 

Getting ready to head out
Summer bush traveling attire, complete with the always present side arm.

I could occasionally hitch a last minute flight to one village or the other when a pilot would radio to the cabin saying he was overhead and would be landing on the river to pick me up, but only if I'd be ready to go. I never kept a pilot waiting.

This plane's coming for me during a blizzard. I waved my light so he would have an idea where to land. With heavy snow and wind, I'm not certain the plane ever completely stopped. I threw my pack in and scrambled aboard as he powered up and off we went.

It was no different in southeast Alaska where I'd be in one island community or the other waiting for a call from a pilot circling overhead, telling me it was time to go.

After all that, preparing to go to Mom's shouldn't be all that difficult.

Meanwhile, back on Pentoga Road:

I'm not sure what I did on Saturday other than fiddle around in the shop and then, what did I accomplish? Hmm, that's a good question.

I began by fashioning a large Easter egg and egg cup from birch.

It was okay in the end, but nothing Sargie (or anyone else) would care to have sitting around on an end table. The spalted grain on the bottom was absolutely gorgeous, but there was little on top. It more resembled a bald headed man precariously perched upon a bathroom throne.

Hmm, how to salvage something from a bald Easter egg. In the end, I cut the top part of the egg completely off and hollowed out a bowl. 

I would never have thought to have made a bowl this way, but I'm glad it happened. It was a new design (for me) and I had a fun day creating it.

I was cleaning up when I happened upon a three inch piece of wood with the tenon (used for fastening it into the chuck on the lathe) still attached. It was meant for the scrap pile, but maybe, just maybe, I could turn a small dish. Why not?

So Saturday was a fun day of simply playing in the shop, not making anything, really, but ending up with something. 

I managed to do some honey-do chores when I wasn't playing. There are more to do before I leave tomorrow. 

Sargie's off today and tonight, we'll be joining Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri for the annual St. Patrick's Day corned beef and cabbage feed at the local Catholic church in Iron River. It's one of our favorite meals of the year. 

I'll finish packing when we get home and hope to be on the road at first light Monday morning. 

Mom's procedure is scheduled for early Tuesday morning. Again, thank you to all who have written and offered prayers and support. They have come in from across the country and all around the world. When I told Mom of all the well wishes, she replied that she is truly grateful. 

I'll try to get something written Monday night, otherwise, it will be Tuesday evening, possibly Wednesday morning before any updates are published. 

I'm billing this ten to twelve hour drive as my last ever big solo road trip. After this one, all will be with Sargie at the wheel.

Let's see, I've got the shades, the tunes, and the long flowing hair to blow in the wind while zooming down the interstate with the top down. No doubt, the Christie Brinkley-types will zoom around me, flash a smile and purse their lips. 

Clark Griswold has nothing on me.

Being the true blue kind of guy that I am, I'll simply nod and smile. It's the way I roll. 

Oh, wait. Scratch that. I just had a Walter Mitty Syndrome moment.

In reality, I'll be the half bald old guy with bad posture whom everyone cusses at for going so slow, concentrating, staring at the road straight ahead, chugging down the interstate in the little Kia.  

Hey, don't knock it. I still have my cool sunglasses. 

Time to get this show on the road.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

It appears the wood and the weather are going to come out even. Perfect.