May 14, 2021 - Friday morning

42 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Brrr. Sargie and I switched out my winter clothes yesterday and I'm wearing shorts and a t shirt this morning rather than my usual jeans and long sleeved top of some type. 

Be right back.

There, much better. I started a fire in the wood stove to take the chill off the house (it's only 54 inside with the windows open). Oh, I also grabbed an old flannel shirt and a blanket along the way to cover my legs.

Now where was I?

Yesterday's walk was beautiful and I was able to forego wearing a jacket or coat for only the second time this spring. 

I was especially happy to be greeted at the bottom of Pentoga hill by a friendly doe.

Though it was only in the low 40's when I left, the temperature had quickly risen along with the sun and I was sweating by the time I arrived back home. Sargie and I had discussed the semi annual ritual of exchanging my winter clothes for those of summer.

It was time.

Three large totes that had been carefully sealed were carted in from the storage shed. Some clothes from both seasons were thrown out, some placed into a bag to go to Goodwill, and most simply exchanged.

One thing is certain. By the amount of hangers left over, I possess a lot more winter clothing than summer. Hmm, living in the north country where we've been known to have nine months of winter weather, I wonder why?

Sargie and I made our daily pilgrimage to town where I purchased another twelve bags of cow manure. 

There's enough to cover the entire garden plus the Sargie's two large flower planters on the back deck.

Each bed received an ample dose of pulverized dead leaves last fall. Between those and the dressing of manure, we ought to begin the gardening season in good shape.

The rest of the day was spent working side by side, but doing separate tasks. A few rocks were pried, but we soon separated (in a good way) and she began cleaning around the patio area, raking leaves from under the bushes, working in her flower boxes, and whatever else the girl deemed necessary.

Using the air compressor, I began cleaning the cracks that had opened in the drive this past spring due to frost heaves.

I've tried everything to clean the cracks before filling them, water from the high pressure sprayer, a brush, the garden hose. In the end, I've found dirt and debris are best moved when pushed by 150 pounds of compressed air.

Maintaining our drive has been a annual chore since it was paved. I remember how excited both Sargie and I were when it all began. 

Other than buying Sargie her engagement/wedding ring, it's been the best money I've spent during our years on Pentoga Road. We no longer have to park by the road each spring and wade, ankle deep, in mud during the spring thaw.

The emerging frost that signals the beginning of spring also heaves the pavement like a vertical accordion, causing it to crack and occasionally break into small pieces.

There's nothing to do but continue to fill the cracks year after year. Once the patch material is dry, the fixes are hardly noticeable and the blacktop is held together for yet another year.

 

I timed myself last evening erecting the tent I'll be using on the AT. Pretending it was pouring rain, just how quickly could I take it from my pack, remove it from its bag, and set it up?

Last evening was under four minutes. That's a record for me. My goal? Two minutes or less.

I can't think of more miserable conditions than ending a day after hiking fifteen or twenty miles and being cold and wet with heavy rain pouring down. By the time I leave next February, I want everything, including setting up the tent, to be a reflex condition, something that is done automatically without much thought. 

The only way I know to do that is by practice.

Practice, Practice. Practice.

Seems strange, even somewhat moronic, to time oneself and practice something as simple as setting up a tent in his back yard. 

Practice. Practice. Practice.

I did the same while living and traveling in the arctic and it saved me from great misery and more importantly, my life, multiple times. 

Imagine getting off a snowmobile in temperatures dipping to forty below zero after having ridden for eight to ten hours in the worst possible conditions, some of the harshest on earth. I'm in a mountain pass and there is no protection. The wind is howling over forty and it's pitch black. The only light is that which is cast from a frosty headlamp and working in mittens is cumbersome at best. My biggest fear is that I'll lose a piece of vital tent hardware in the deep snow.  Finding it would take time and in these conditions, time is something I don't have. It's a matter of life and death. 

That was a typical nighttime scenario during my arctic days.

I also practiced changing a snowmobile belt in the same conditions, starting a fire under the cowling of the snowmobile so the oil would be warm enough to start the engine, building a snow cave using a snowshoe as a shovel, and the list goes on and on.

Traveling ten to fifteen thousand miles a year by myself across the far arctic and living to tell about it didn't happen by accident. First off, I was lucky. There were times, more than I can remember, where circumstances could just as well have gone the other way. 

But also, I practiced in the worst conditions so that when those times arose, I might have any possible advantage, if there was one. 

Completing the AT at the age of 70 is going to require a lot of luck, but if practicing putting up my tent quickly in the backyard under timed conditions bends the odds my way, I'll do it.

It's called practice. Practice. Practice. Practice.

Well, talking about setting up the tent in the backyard sure took a left turn somewhere along the way. Sorry 'bout that.

Okay, it's daylight and Yooper Brother Mark will be pulling into the drive at any time for our weekly Friday morning walk. We're going to have company later this morning. Folks want to stop by and look at the pond. Evidently, they are interested in digging one themselves.

One of the large groceries in Iron Mountain is having a meat sale today. I also need to purchase a piece of guttering at Home Depot. Looks to be a busy day ahead.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...