One of my baby girls - Ivy

June 16, 2019 - Sunday morning

44 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there in Daddyland. I especially want to wish my four sons a good and special day. Andy, Matt, Luke, and Josh, combined, have nine babies, all beautiful in every way. 

And I can't forget Macrea. I wonder what Hambone is fixing him for breakfast this morning?

As always, I'm thinking of Dad today. I wish he were here. The older I get, the more I miss him. 

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I love you.

Saturday was a filled with nonstop fun and games on Pentoga Road. I spent all morning and much of the early afternoon moving wood, one wheel barrow at a time, from a pile that has been stored under a tarp in back to one of the front wood sheds.

The shed was almost completely empty when I began. By midmorning, it still wasn't half full.

The original plan was to work for an hour or two, then quit and go onto something else. The morning was cool, there was a nice breeze, and with the aid of a fistful of ibuprofen tablets, I kept hauling wood. The south shed was filled to the ceiling by mid afternoon.



As I told Sargie, at least we know we'll be warm through Christmas.

There's still more wood to move and plenty to work up that's sitting in the trailer. Rather than burning only softwood, largely popple, this winter, I plan to mix it with hard wood, mostly maple. 

There are many more BTU's in hardwood and it maintains heat for a much longer period of time. Since I'm planning to substitute teach again this coming winter, a stove filled with hardwood in the morning before the last person leaves will provide heat throughout the day, even when there's no one home to fill it. A stove burning softwood requires replenishing every couple of hours, something that's not a problem when there's someone here, but otherwise, we come home to a chilly house.

Where to put all this new hardwood? Sargie and I talked and I think I'll purchase a portable garage to be erected out of sight, on the other side of the barn. They are relatively inexpensive and seem to last for several years. Andy's had one for a couple of years and likes it very much. If his can withstand northern Maine's heavy snow and winds, one should do just fine here in the UP. 

The rest of the day and early evening was spent on the mower. With ear buds plugged solidly into my head and those covered with set of sound reducing ear muffs, I bee-bopped my way around the lawn, the meadows, and even part of the trails.

I wonder if there's money to be made in publishing a song list best suited for mowing? Personally, when it comes to sitting high atop the rider, I'm an AC/DC fan. 

 Set the rpm's on the mower, engage the blades, select AD/DC's Thunderstruck, crank up the volume, engage the cruise control, and let 'er rip. When it comes to mowing grass and singing, Angus Young has nothing on this old guy.

Sargie arrived home from work and we had a quiet evening. I spent much of it looking for the least expensive flights for us to attend Josh's Coast Guard retirement ceremony in early August. There's no such thing as a cheap ticket. 

Sargie works from noon to five today. I've been away from the pond project long enough that I'm ready to get started again. First on the agenda will be to move a large pile of dirt so I can continue digging. Two more days on the backhoe should see this phase of pond construction complete. After will come the manual labor of shaping the terraces to the bottom.

A very fragrant honeysuckle bush in full bloom

Meanwhile, it's time to get another cup of coffee and try to find a bit of news, see what's going on in the world outside of Pentoga Road.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Lake Pentoga is turning into a beautiful lawn

The Young and Beautful
Sarah, Isabella, Jerad, and Jenna in Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri's hot tub.

June 15, 2019 - Saturday morning

47 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

You look at that picture above, the youthfulness, the hot tub, torches, and the beautiful ladies, and you'd think it was an advertisement for a Caribbean vacation resort. (Sorry, Jerad, you're not nearly as pretty as the ladies.)

Nope, it's the side deck at Yooper Brother Mark's in Caspian. We're invited almost daily to come and share the tub and one of these days, Sargie and I are going to take the folks up on their offer. We just haven't gotten there yet.

Friday was busy, but almost a non event. I was so disappointed when Sargie and I walked into the bank to make the last mortgage payment. I thought SURE there'd be a marching band, at the very least, the mayor present to make a congratulatory speech. 

Instead, the teller called the mortgage department, gave me the payout amount, I wrote a check, and received a receipt in return.

That's it? Decades of investing and sacrificial saving, and that's all there was? 

Yup. That was it. The teller said there'd be papers coming in the mail saying the mortgage was paid and as a parting shot, said, "Have a nice day."

While in Iron Mountain, we met Hambone and Macrea, and enjoyed a good lunch at the local Mexican eatery. It was fun to catch up on our hike and even began talking about another one in the future. 

Sargie and I ran some errands, bought a few groceries, got gas for the mower, and some trim for the house, before returning home. It rained the entire time so walking hand in hand down the street wasn't really an option. Rather, we sprinted from point A to point B most the time.

Rain? Talk about rain. It's wet in these here parts. Mark sent a picture that one of his truckers took. This load of logs was destined for Mark's plant, but became mired right up to the axles and beyond.

Rain or no, I'm mowing today, even if I have to wear a snorkle, mask and fins, then bale the grass after. Sargie opens the Vision Center this morning and works Sunday afternoon as well as Monday. The yard won't wait that long, so I'l be climbing on the mower. It won't be Sargie-good, but will be good 'nuff to keep the lions, tigers, and bears, at bay... oh my!

I think I'll wait another day before resuming my daily five-mile strolls. There's still a hitch in my git-along, also known as my right hip. It's getting better, but another day of zero miles won't hurt.

Until the yard dries enough to mow, I'm going to be working up fire wood this morning. Winter's coming and I've noticed the Wood Fairy didn't come during the night and do it for me.

Time to pack Sargie's lunch and get breakfast ready.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

We LOVE boiled peanuts, especially Miss Jody's. Unfortunately, unlike in southern Mississippi, fresh boiled peanuts aren't available in the north country, so we were delighted to find the canned variety while at the grocery. They are, at best, a mere imitation, but took the edge off our craving until we can get back to Mississippi Brother Garry and Miss Jody's for our boiled peanut fix.
Sargie and I ate almost a full can of gooey, soft, salty, delicious, boiled peanuts yesterday afternoon.

The not-so-glamorous part of long distance hiking few get to see

June 14, 2019 - Friday

41 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I should NEVER have eaten that first, random, handful of leftover popcorn while waiting for the coffee to brew. I was standing at the kitchen counter with my mind stuck in early morning neutral and looking out the front window, when my hand reached into the bowl and removed a few stale kernels.

What is it about day-old popcorn that tastes so good, especially first thing in the morning? Is it just me or does popcorn, like a fine wine, actually improve with age? 

I've already had my usual two morning cookies, the ones I consume on a daily basis to, as Mary Poppins says, help the medicine go down, but it's barely past 6 AM and I'm chomping on day-old popcorn.

Maybe if I eat it all and get the bowl washed and put away before Sargie gets up, she'll forget it was ever there and this whole popcorn thing will be your's and my dirty little secret. 

Deal? Deal.

I'm good with it if you are.

Thursday was mostly spent with hose in hand, spraying mud from every piece of hiking equipment that accompanied us this past week.

A tailgate makes THE best drying rack 

By the looks of it, we could have saved ourselves an entire hike by simply rolling around in the muddy hole in the garden. 

It was Thursday evening before the tent, hammock, packs, and rest of the equipment were washed, dried, rolled, and/or folded and put away. 

I was on the cell phone for part of the day to the service department at Hughes Net, the satellite company from whom we subscribe our internet and VOIP phone service. 

Our home phone quit working several days ago and after spending more than an hour talking with them then, they sent a new modem. I installed it yesterday and found the phone still didn't work.

I have to give the company some kudos. Though it took a while, they worked in tandem with the customer service people fixing the problem from their end and by the time we arrived home from our ride yesterday, we had full phone service.

Though it's not cheapest internet in the world, Hughes Net has been good to us, both in reliability and customer service. 

Sargie and I took a wonderful ride around the area on Thursday afternoon, stopping along the way for a burger and Coke. 

Everything is so... green.

The late afternoon and evening were spent in the yard. Sargie was doing one thing or the other with her flowers while I finished packing the hiking equipment. 

I later fertilized the strawberries.

It appears we might have a bumper crop this year. These berries were planted in the early spring, a year ago. A mere fifty of them, all looking quite dead from spending almost two months in the garage refrigerator, not only survived, they thrived. We should begin harvesting in another three weeks.

Today's a big one on Pentoga Road. Sargie and I will be going to the bank in Iron Mountain later today where I'm going to plunk down a bit of cash on the counter for the final payment on our home and property. 

I'm not going to get into financial details here, but it sure feels good, mighty good. What I will say is that it certainly pays to start an annuity or investment plan early in life. The one that has paid for the house was started around forty years ago. 

I love when a plan comes together.

It's to rain today, but hasn't begun yet. Though it's not even 7 AM, I think I'll head out the door and begin working up next winter's supply of firewood. I'm behind on so many of my usual summer tasks and here it is, the middle June already. August will be here before we know it, school will start, cold weather will roll in, and...

Oh hush, I don't even want to think about it.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

June 13, 2019 - Thursday morning
49 degrees/partly cloudy/breezy
Pentoga Road

We're back. Macrea and I, along with our two hiking buddies, Patrick and Brian, arrived at the end of our forty-two mile journey Wednesday afternoon, concluding at the Munising Falls Visitor Center. It had been a fast and furious, yet very enjoyable, trek through some of the Upper Peninsula's most beautiful country.

The trip began somewhat ominously. When we stepped from the shuttle around 9:00 AM Monday morning, rain was pouring down in sheets. Not a very good way to begin a major hike.

Macrea, now AKA as "Big Bear" high upon the sand dunes along Lake Superior. 

We didn't let a bit of rain, wind, and cool temperatures dampen our spirits. With Macrea in the lead, we trekked on ahead, talking and often, laughing.

Early Monday afternoon brought clearing skies and windy conditions, perfect for hiking.

At one point, we climbed high upon a promontory and far in the distance, could see our day's destination, the Au Sable light house.

We soon arrived at Log Slide and met the first of our trail family. Aunt Tonya, from Las Cruses, NM, had her two nieces along for the same hike as we were taking.

We camped at the same sites as "the girls" (as they soon became known) for the rest of the journey. 

The girls were offered Snickers Bars, of which they kindly accepted. We told them the Snickers Fairy occasionally leaves them along the trail and knowing they were behind us, left a treat on a prominent log for them to enjoy.



We arrived at our first night's planned destination, but since the conditions were perfect and Macrea felt great, decided to hike on another few miles.

Since this was Macrea's first-ever hike, I let him take the lead.

Along with being the lead guide comes major responsibilities. After day one, he also served as Map Boy and Camera Boy. It was nice to turn over the major tasks to a youngster so the old man could settle back and simply enjoy the hike. Eleven miles passed under our feet before we stopped on Monday afternoon.

 It was during the first night of sleep when Macrea earned the trail name of Big Bear. With the boy, formerly known as Macrea, slumbering in his hammock, a black bear looking for food scraps, wandered alongside his hammock and let out a snort just a foot or two away. 

Not panicking and doing exactly the right thing, Macrea let out a shout that sent the curious bear scampering. From this day forward, when he's on a hike, the former Macrea shall be known as Big Bear.

I served as the master chef for our journey, making such culinary delights as tuna, wrapped in soft tortilla shells, dipped after each bite in Ranch dressing. Of course, oatmeal was a favorite along with peanut butter spread on tortilla shells.

It wasn't always easy slaving away in the kitchen, but since Big Bear had taken over the guide's duties, I was happy to serve in a support role.

 Big Bear also learned what an open outhouse is. At one campsite, it was a matter of following a trail over small hill, sitting down, and enjoying the 360 degree, panoramic view of the countryside.



I was afraid I might walk over the small rise and see one of our trail family, but as it turns out, we all spaced our timing very well.

The second day of our hike, brought perfect conditions. We bade the girls goodbye, promising we'd meet up with them further down the trail.

We caught up with the brothers of our trail family, "the boys," as they soon became known, Brian and Patrick, during the day. They had hiked further the first night and were enjoying the beach when we first spotted them. Of course, being the social butterfly on the trail, I slogged out through the sand to catch up on any local trail news.

"Hmm, you know Big Bear, I think we should have turned left back there at the last junction. There's a big ol' lake on our right that we're about to walk into."

With the threat of heavy rain forecast, the entire trail family hiked almost fifteen miles and all made the conscious decision that we'd finish on Wednesday to save having to deal with wet tents, bags, and clothes on Thursday morning.

As forecast, it rained and blew Tuesday night. We awakened at daybreak on Wednesday, packed, and made a hasty retreat from the campsite back to the trail.

The less than perfect conditions didn't diminish the beauty of Picture Rocks National Park. I've hiked this trail multiple times and with each trip, am more impressed than I ever had been previously.

The last eight miles were the hardest of the entire trip. Hiking with the boys, the four of us propped each other up as we slipped and slid through ankle deep mud. Between the rain, mosquitoes, and occasional nose dive into a muddy puddle, it was only our combined camaraderie and light heartedness that made the endless slog somewhat enjoyable.

We finally emerged from the woods to the parking lot just below the visitor's center. I hated to tell my two newest sons, Patrick and Brian, goodbye. 

Both boys are back in the Midwest for a wedding this coming Saturday. After, Patrick will head to his position as a Professor of Computer Science at San Diego State University, and having just earned his MBA, Brian drives to Seattle to begin a new job.

Patrick - Brian

We promised to keep in touch. I hope we do. I became fond of both boys.

Sargie was sight for sore eyes last night. I often talk about hiking the grandaddy of all trails, the Appalachian Trail. I'm not so concerned about the physicality of it all, but missing Sargie after just three days, I wonder how I could go six months away from my bride. 

Oh well, I've got a couple of years to figure all that out.

I heard from Big Bear a bit ago, saying he was doing well this morning. Like me, he's got an ache or pain here and there, but nothing major. 

On today's agenda: hose down the packs, shoes, tent, hammock, and anything else that is covered with mud from yesterday's slog. I think we'll take the sleeping bags to the laundry mat and wash those. You can't beat good old-fashioned trail sludge.

Other than that, there's a trailer full of next winter's fire wood waiting for someone to come along and work it up. 

So with that being said, it's time to get the day started.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Lead on Big Bear. You're doing a heck of a job.

June 9, 2019 - Sunday evening

64 degrees/cloudy/breezy

Pentoga Road

"My bags are packed, I'm ready to go..."

Macrea and I spent most the afternoon packing and repacking our backpacks for this week's upcoming hike. I'm proud that we kept our pack weight down. Macrea's weighs in at 27 pounds, including food, mine at 24. 

I'd like to trim my total pack weight to 18 lbs before I undertake the Appalachian Trail when the time comes. 

Four days of food and snacks for one of us

Grady and Isabella had a ball playing inside this morning. They colored, played with the loom, and jibber jabbered endlessly back and forth.

We laughed when the two of them began doing the limbo. They stuck markers together end to end to use as a stick.

Okay, it's almost Hiker's Midnight, 7 PM, which means this boy is about to head to bed. Four AM will come bright and early. 

As Robert Frost once said, "There's miles to go before I sleep." In my case, I need only climb those long and lonely steps to the bedroom.

I'll talk to you at week's end.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...