With the heavy freezes of the past several nights, the garden is about finished. This variety of Hubbard squash can weigh up to fifty pounds, but this one is less than half that. Last year I picked fifteen. The one above is the only Hubbard that reached maturity this season. It's been that kind of year.

September 10, 2017 - Sunday

35 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I hope everyone pauses at some point to say a prayer for those in Hurricane Irma's path, basically the entire State of Florida. I've been in epic blizzards and record setting cold while in Alaska and even in a tornado with all its devastation, but I can't imagine being caught in a 130 mph wind that lasts for hours. 

Saturday was a lazy one on Pentoga Road. The weather was near perfect and Sargie and I took advantage of it in the afternoon.

The morning was spent, once again, arranging, cleaning, and putting things away in the shop.

My deep-thought invention was to make drill bit holders to hang on the wall by the drill press. The holders are pretty sophisticated, plastic carbonated water bottles cut down to size. 

I'm expecting a call from DeWalt or one of the major tool companies at any time. No doubt they'll want to hire me for my shop related, sophisticated, deep thinking. 

The rest of the morning was spent simply piddling around. I cut down the ice cream pails that hold the various size screws and nails so that each would fit on the shelf under Dad's old workbench. 

My biggest accomplishment was to clean the far corner of one bench, finding a home for everything that has been piled on top for the past year. I now find myself with several feet of free space that will, no doubt, be filled as soon as I begin turning and sawing again.

Sargie and I left shortly after noon to begin our drive. Our quest was to find an old apple tree that we'd discovered years ago. She thought it was south of Iron River, I was fairly certain it was located south of Crystal Falls.

In no hurry, we weaved through Caspian, where Yooper Brother Mark is the mayor, waved to people, talked, and looked at a few interesting buildings.

This Italian men's fraternity is no more, but their building remains along with the bocce ball courts where games are still held.

It's amazing what can be found in the the nooks and crannies of America's small communities. Our area has a good many people of Italian heritage, those whose ancestors migrated here to work in the iron mines.

We stopped by Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri's to see Mark's current project of replacing the old landscape timbers alongside his drive.

It was time to get serious and begin our quest to find the apple tree. With Cokes in hand, we headed east, towards Crystal Falls, fifteen miles distant.

The pavement turned to gravel and then to dirt. I could almost smell the apples. Nancy Drew has nothing on us.

When we saw the old log cabin farmstead, I knew we were close. There's not a lot left of the ancient relic. Many of the original cedar shingles are missing and the middle is sagging.

Mother Nature is gradually reclaiming what was once her's. We both commented how interesting it would be to know the history of the cabin and of those who built and made it their home. 

We passed another old farmstead, this one newer, but none-the-less, filled with multiple generations of character.

We crawled around one curve, then another. Finally, the apple tree was found, huge branches, laden with apples, were hanging over the road.

I'll return this week to pick some of the delicious fruits. I'd like to dehydrate some. Other's I'll use to make an apple pie or two.

We made a detour and drove several miles further off the beaten path to visit a large reservoir. The sandy shoreline and crystal clear water made it look picture perfect. In my younger days, I'd have stripped down and jumped in. Thankfully, I've outgrown that phase of my life.

 

The trees continue to turn. Peak season will be upon us in another couple of weeks.

We've heard the colors this year are to be particularly vivid and long lasting due to this summer's ample rainfall. 

All good drives eventually come to an end and we pulled into the drive. Sargie got busy working in the house while I headed to the garden to harvest more cauliflower. Both of us were soon busy cleaning and blanching a panful bound for the freezer.

One of Sargie's favorite delights is to spear some from the pan, cover it with butter, salt, and pepper, and eat it while its hot, yet still crisp.

Our evening was a quiet one. I remember snuggling next to Sargie in bed and watching the news. The next thing I knew, it was this morning.

The only thing on today's agenda that's written in stone is the Packers game vs. Seattle. I'll be sitting in front of the tv wearing my green and gold, shouting and cheering for my favorite team. Other than that, I'll leave our activities up to Sargie. 

Meanwhile, I'm going to sneak out to the shop and see if I come up with any other deep-thought ideas regarding tools and accessories. I'd like to have a few in mind in case one of the major tool manufacturing companies call.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...