Tales from Pentoga

The Brule River is closing in for the winter months

January 1, 2021 - Friday morning

-6 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Whoops, I forgot to push the "publish" button after writing yesterday's blog. It eventually appeared later in the day, but if you missed it, keep on reading after this one.

As I mentioned to Yooper Brother Mark Thursday morning while gazing down at the dark, rushing, water from the Brule River Bridge, "If we came down the river (in kayaks) this morning, we could just hold on and bump our way home from one side to the other."

Indeed, Mark came out early Thursday morning and we enjoyed a good gab session as we wandered to the river. On our way home, a truck pulled alongside and we soon met Joe and Hannah.

Regular daily readers of the blog from the Appleton area of Wisconsin, we introduced ourselves and had a wonderful visit. During our conversation, I learned that Hannah is an avid hiker, so after that, poor Joe and Mark had to tolerate Hannah and I talking "hike."

Hannah's completed a solo trek on the Isle Royale trail (no small feat) as well as several others and is now planning to do the Porcupine Mountains in the western UP this summer.

We've already compared tents/hammock, sleeping gear, etc. Needless to say, Hannah got my hiking juices flowing, not that they'd diminished to any great extent, and we've promised to stay in touch. Seems long distance hikers form a particular bond that, to put it mildly, simply bores everyone else within ear shot to death.

I keep thinking I've met Joe and Hannah previously. The more I think about it, the more certain I am.

I love growing older. It's a race to see which will go first, the mind or various body parts. In this case, I think my mind is inching ahead.

Oh, to make certain I remembered their names, I tried to be stealthy and slip my iPhone from my jacket to record their names.

Yeah, I was stealthy alright. We all laughed when I almost dropped the phone and told them what I was doing.

Yooper Brother Mark headed back to work after our hike. Sargie and I made a quick trip to town for her Coke before returning home.

It was sunny and yet another perfect day to go ice fishing. Knowing we were leaving for Sasha and Alex's New Year's Eve party later in the afternoon, I made the snowmobile ready, loaded the equipment, and took off down the road.

Other than a million, billion, and thirteen, little perch, all I really caught was a couple of hours of fresh air and that's okay. Any time spent in perfect weather on a beautiful lake is better than an afternoon of sitting home watching Ellen.

No gaff or net needed to land this beauty

Actually, I didn't know I had him on until I checked to see if I had any bait.

I had an interesting conversation with a fellow who pulled up on his side-by-side while I was fishing,

"Boy, you can tell you're an old timer," he quipped after the usual, "how ya' doin' greeting."

I looked up at him, my first thought being, "Speak for yourself, John. You're no spring chicken yourself."

"Other than my dashing good looks and finely chiseled body, how do you know I'm an old timer?" I asked.

He laughed. "Why, only old timers have enough sense to have a real working snowmobile. It's that Tundra you have."

Without going into the long story of this being my third Tundra, one in northern Maine, another in arctic Alaska, and now, this one, I thanked him and told him the machine and I were probably about the same age.

"Wouldn't know where a guy could pick one up, would 'ja?"

"Nope," I repled.

"These old ones go for thousands, ya know," he said.

"They don't even make 'em any more."

Watching him inspect my beloved Skidoo, I was fearful he'd drool all over the thing. Had I not been sitting on it, I'm certain he'd have climbed aboard and asked to take it for a drive.

We finally bade each other goodbye, but not before he kicked the tires, well the skis. The last I saw of him, he was driving off into the sunset on his new side by side, one that I'm sure cost nearly $20,000, while I sat on and fished from my old timer's relic.

I've wondered since if I'd have hinted at a trade, even up, for his side by side, if he'd have taken me up on the offer.

Naw, just like my old Ford 8N tractor, when Baby Jesus calls me Home, that Tundra, the tractor, and I, will all go putting off into the sunset together.

It's what old relics do.

After Sargie gave me a quick haircut that made me look particularly beautified and purty, I ran through the shower and off to Sasha's we went.

What fun. The older generations were first to gather, the sister and husbands and in laws.

As the evening wore on, the youngsters began arriving, the kids, mere thirty year olds. At one point, I gave Sasha my camera and asked if she'd take some random shots.

Thanks, Sasha!

Eat? Words can't describe the mountains of food Sasha, Jeanne, and Holly, had prepared. Here's what landed on my plate for my last meal of the year:

spaghetti
ravioli
tossed salad
pizza rolls

smoked pork (good job Alex!)
sausage
meatballs
umpteen cookies and bars
crackers and cheese/ Chex mix

I know I'm missing a food group or two, but it was a delicious feast.

Sasha, Alex, and Aria, really did a great job in hosting the first annual New Year's Eve party. Thanks, kids.

Oh, just one problem. It seems many of the younger women were, shall we say, heavily laden with child.

At one point, I became nervous when Sargie was talking with one of the mothers to be, fearful that whatever caused that baby bump was contagious. Thankfully, it was niece Ashley who assured me that it would be rare for Sargie to became infected.

Whew. Dodged a bullet on that one.

We left the younger generation to bring in the new year and arrived home around 9. I changed into my flannel shirt and Packer jammies and promptly fell asleep in my chair. Confident that 2021 would arrive with or without my assistance, I eventually climbed the steps to bed. The last I knew, Sargie was standing in front of the bathroom vanity, doing those things that Sargie does every night before calling it a day. I wonder if she lasted long enough to ring in the new year?

Today will probably be like most others on Pentoga Road. Sargie's boys and families are to come tomorrow for a quick and informal late Christmas so that means we'll do some cleaning beforehand. I'm hoping to sneak back out onto the ice this afternoon and see if I can catch something other than baby perch. Other than my usual walk, who knows?