As a former tuba player, (I majored in tuba in undergrad school) one can see the obvious grace, poise, and beauty, I employed while blowing out my birthday candles on Saturday.

June 20, 2021 - Sunday morning

45 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Happy Fathers Day to dads everywhere, especially to mine. Though he's been gone for well over twenty years, there's rarely a day go by that I don't think of Dad. I'm looking forward to the day when we meet again and can resume where we left off so many years ago.

Yesterday was a good one. I headed to the garden after arriving home from my walk. As of now, all the beds, save one, are weeded.

Sounding like a broken record, we need rain. Some of the seeds that have been planted for two weeks or more are just now germinating due to lack of moisture. It seems to make little difference that I'm watering every other night. They need real, good, old fashioned, rain. 

The plants are just "okay." We'll have a crop of everything, but unless the weather changes rapidly, it won't be a Better Homes and Gardens year.

Next chance of rain is late this afternoon and overnight. Yeah, I've heard that story before.

I came inside to find a big box sitting on the couch. Inside were several smaller wrapped presents.

Sargie has to be the best gift giver/finder in the whole world. I received all kinds of needed hiking goodies from a titanium (VERY lightweight) spork, fork on one end, spoon on the other, to a lightweight hiking umbrella and a few other goodies.

The umbrella, weighing only 12 ounces, fixes onto the front straps of a pack and is used hands free.

Sargie gave me my favorite electronic piece to take on the AT, a Garmin Mini In Reach. The tiny device not only acts as a normal GPS, but also a communications means that will allow Sargie and whoever's interested to follow me on my hike. It will also send and receive text messages via satellite, regardless of cell coverage. There's an emergency SOS button that can be employed should I find myself in a less than desirable situation.

The Garmin also straps onto my pack and  transmits, unencumbered.

In Iron Mountain Saturday afternoon for errands, Sargie found a refrigerator to replace the defunct dorm size unit that's been sitting in the garage the past nine years. This one, a 7.5 cubic foot apartment sized model, seemed to be the right price and size for what we needed. 

Too bad we drove the car and not the Blazer.

Hmm. I had an idea. 

After borrowing a tape measure from a less than pleasant appliance lady, I ventured to the parking lot. Yup, the appliance could lay down on the back seat with little room to spare. Time to buy a refrigerator.

Well, darn it, the refrigerator should fit and it would have except I failed to take the back seat arm rests into account. We tugged, we pulled, and we danced the hootchie coo, to the delight of passing onlookers.

It was about that time that Home Depot employee of the century, Bob Butterfield, came along and offered assistance.

Laughing, I not sure Bob Butterfield could believe what he was seeing. 

What? A refrigerator in the back seat of a four door sedan?

Bob, Sargie, and I, pulled and tugged, moved seats, but most of all, we laughed. A guy sitting across the parking aisle in his car really got his money's worth of entertainment.

Bob even got out his box cutter and trimmed off the ends of the cardboard shipping box. It was still three inches too long to close the back doors.

Only one thing to do. I used the strapping that held the shipping container intact and tied the two back doors together. People tie their trunk lids down, why not back doors?

With a hearty thanks and handshake to Bob Butterfield and praying we'd not meet any law enforcement officers along the way, we successfully zoomed back to Pentoga Road. 

He who laughs last laughs best. 

Darn straight.

I heard from all our sons yesterday, Josh, Matt, Luke, Andy, Cale, Shea, and Macrea, also from friends and relatives. I'm finding as I get older that the best birthday gifts come in the form of simple "I love you's," regardless of the media.

Perhaps Wes, Em, and Ben sum it up the best.

We carried the patio table and chairs out to the garden late in the afternoon and began to assemble the large overhead umbrella until we found a part missing. Sargie will be giving the company a call tomorrow to have a replacement sent.

We enjoyed the best birthday supper last night, that of grilled ribeye pork steaks, fresh sweet corn, a baked tater with all the fixings, and a delicious fruit salad.

My bride had stayed up past midnight the night before making my favorite dessert, apple cake, and sang to me as I blew out the candles.

It was the perfect ending to a perfect day.

Thanks, honey, I love you too.

In other news, I learned that my new BFF, Alaska Megan, Alaska Curt's daughter, recently won the Mayor's Marathon in Anchorage. You may recall that Megan trained in our area, more specifically, on Pentoga Road.

That, alone, doesn't surprise me in the least, but the circumstances in which she was victorious can only be described as uniquely Alaskan.

Click here for Megan's story

After reading of Meg's success and her bear(s) encounter, I'm seriously considering opening a marathon Olympic training facility here on Pentoga Road. We have plenty of bears that we deal with and our roads are usually lightly traveled.

I'm just throwing it out there. Hey, it worked for Megan.

By the way, congratulations, Megan. I'm proud of you and your accomplishments. You go girl!

Okay, it's time to head out the door for my morning walk. On today's agenda... well, who knows? It's Father's Day and my last chance to be lazy for another year. 

Why do all the special days in my life come together?

Our anniversary, June 17th.

My birthday, June 19th.

Father's Day, this year June 20th. 

I'd prefer to have one every four months or so, but then, no one asked me.

Meanwhile, here's day number three, a short video.

Just remember:

A man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Much of Friday was spent washing, drying, sorting, and packing, the equipment used on this past week's hike.

June 19th, 2021 - Saturday morning

51 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I think it's wonderful that the President declared today a federal holiday in honor of my birthday. 

Thanks Joe!

....oh wait. What? That's not the reason? 

Oh.

You sure?

Mama always told me that today was my special day.

Really?

Darn.

Never mind.

Saturday was a busy one. I was out of the house early for my usual walk to Pentoga Village and back. As is the case every year at this time, I am especially enjoying the wild flowers that God has sewn alongside our magical roadway.

The fluer du jour presently happens to be wild daisies, millions and trillions of beautiful wild daisies. (Aren't you impressed with my bilingualism? Thanks Uncle Bert for teaching me everything I know about conversational French. I still remember a bit from my teaching years in Madawaska, Maine, where over 80% of my students came from French speaking families.)

Back home, with Sargie's help, I tackled the aftermath of this past week's hike. We sorted everything from clothing to equipment to unused food. Everything was discussed as to whether it would be included on next year's AT journey.

I have to say that for being a self professed non hiker, my bride knows more about the support side of hiking than most. She's quick to make very educated suggestions and is extremely knowledgeable. Now if I could only talk her into walking next year's five million steps with me.

I picked a bowl of honeyberries yesterday morning. They are sweet and juicy, but due to the lack of rain, are undersized and there aren't many. In fact, two of the three bushes have very few. It's just one of those years.

Sargie and I took our usual drive, got her Coke, then made a quick tour of a couple of area lakes. Our favorite non people, Midsummer Sam and his bride, greeted us at the entrance of one road. Both were dressed in new attire.

I don't know who does the Midsummer Sam thing, but they must have a lot of fun changing outfits with the seasons and holidays. As a side note, I find Midsummer Sam's wife particularly alluring. No wonder the boy is always smiling.

We worked around the garden and pond yesterday afternoon. I noticed some scat (poop) in several places at the edge of the garden pond and sorting back in my memory from my trapping days, I believe it's that of a river otter. I'm sure large, fat, lazy, goldfish would make a tempting meal for any otter that happened to wander by.

I set the trail cam between the legs of the heron last night and we'll see what kind of twilight critter is calling the pond his own.

Where's Luke when I need him, although I still have all my trapping equipment above the shop, including several live traps. Stay tuned, this could get interesting.

Speaking of critters and trail cams, there's a new bear in the neighborhood and he's a good sized boy.

Not far behind at any given time is a bevy of raccoons. I don't mind sharing their woods as long as both stay away from the house.

With cooler late afternoon temperatures, Sargie and I hopped on the four wheeler and enjoyed a ride to the river, then onto the lake.

We both specialize in wearing (pardon me) bad ass helmets and am waiting for a screen play writer to pen a story of our four wheeler travels, possibly a sequel, called Grandparents Without a Cause.

On today's agenda is, first, to strap on my hikers and put a few miles under these feet of mine. The garden needs weeding, there are more honey berries to pick, and I think we may venture to "sin city", otherwise known as Iron Mountain, to purchase a new 20 volt battery for the vacuum used to scrub the algae from the sides of the pond.

"Day Two" video will be after the last picture.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

No need to turn your device upside down. That's me, hanging from our inversion machine, straightening out my back after a few days of hiking. 

June 18, 2021 - Saturday morning
63 degrees/clear skies/calm winds
Pentoga Road

First off, let me once again say happy anniversary to my beautiful bride. The official day was yesterday, the 17th, but since this is the first entry I've made in several days, I'll say it again today.

I love you baby.

Macrea and I pulled into the drive Friday afternoon around 4 PM. We'd had a wonderful hike, one where mileage is still up in question. In three and a half days, we'd either put fifty seven or fifty two miles under our feet, not that it makes any big difference.

The trail held multiple surprises. First, we'd been told that it was flat with little elevation change. Someone lied.

We encountered multiple "PUDS", pointless up's and down's, that continually challenged us on the hottest day of our hike. We'd hike over the 1,500 ft mark, then go straight down, only to go up again. Switchbacks were few and far between, so it was a strenuous stretch of trail.

Water sources were also problematic. Presently in the middle of an early summer drought, many of the seasonal steams were already dried and even the creeks and rivers were running quite sluggish. 

 

At one point, we were forced to draw water from a beaver pond and after doing so, discovered several tadpoles in the CNOC bag we'd used to scoop water.

 

Macrea was a real trooper and in my book, earned a ton of "hiker cred." A non hiker by trade, I let him lead and set the pace. 

Sargie's youngest ran into some real foot problems early in the hike that he battled the entire way. There were several pullout points where he could have quit, but that was never an option for him. As he said, "I'm going to see this thing through," and he did. 

Macrea, as long distance hikers say, "Embraced the suck."

I couldn't be prouder of the boy.

I fared well throughout the hike. I'm having a lovefest with my tent and quilt. Using hiking poles rather than a frame, the tent assembles in a mere two or three minutes.

I'm not so in love with my pack, however. For whatever reason, I couldn't adjust the straps so that the 23 pounds was being carried on my hips. Rather, my shoulders burdened most the weight. 

It's not a big deal on a four day stroll, but certainly would be on one that lasts five to six months. I told Sargie last night that we'll venture to REI, a popular outdoor store that specializes in packs, tents, and everything hiking, and have a "packologist" measure and fit me and if nothing else, at least give me a lesson on pack adjustment.

The closest REI is almost three and a half hours away in Appleton, Wisconsin. Hmm, seems like a good enough excuse as any for an overnighter with my bride.

Otherwise, my body, feet, and mind, performed flawlessly. My tootsies and dogs remained blister free, knee, ankle, hip, and back, aches and pains were nonexistent, and I tackled the PUDS with a minimum amount of effort. Assuming I keep up the training and walking, I believe I'll be ready to tackle the AT beginning next February. 

We finally walked into the trailhead parking lot (the finish line for us) before noon yesterday. Macrea saw his car through the bushes and took off like a thirsty horse to water. I couldn't keep up with the boy.

I made a daily video and even that was a learning experience on the trail. There were one or two times that I could have probably uploaded an entire video, usually while high on a ridge that afforded a minimal amount of service, but didn't want to take the half an hour away from hiking. The one night I could have done the same, I was simply too tired. I'll be putting four videos on over the next four days, probably the same as I'll be doing on the AT next year, uploading them in sequence as I come to trail towns with good internet service. Meanwhile, you can always go to my blog youtube page, Pentoga Road, and see any "shorts," fifteen second videos that I uploaded while on the Superior Hiking Trail. Day One video will be at the very bottom of today's entry.

Sargie was a sight for sore eyes yesterday afternoon. Not letting any grass grow under her feet, she'd mowed the property while I was gone, traveled to Escanaba one day with sister, Nancy, and even attended two of Hambone's away soccer games.

Last evening was a short one. I showered and we toured the garden, but otherwise, it was lights out for this old hiker. Needless to say, sleeping between clean sheets while snuggled next to my Sargie, well, life just doesn't get any better.

On today's agenda is to pick honeyberries. Our first fresh fruit of the season is ripe and ready to harvest.

As Dad would have said, "We'll be in high cotton," for the next week or two plucking fat, juicy, berries and popping them into our mouths each time we walk by one of the three bushes.

Otherwise, both tents have to be set back up and sprayed clean. The sleeping bags and quilt need to hang on the line and air out, and all the hiking equipment stowed away until it's needed again.

Don't go away after the last picture below. A video will follow.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

 

 June 15, 2021

Superior Hiking Trail

Beautiful weather

Reception is at a minimum, so I’ll just say that after hiking 14 1/2 miles on Monday and 3 1/2 miles into a 15 mile day on Tuesday everything is going well. I made a video, but there is no way to upload it with the cell reception that we have, so that will just have to wait. Time to get hiking.

 June 14, 2021-Monday morning 

Duluth, Minnesota

Here is the first video. I will get this technology figured out yet! 

https://youtu.be/aPQs-yYhE9M

Quit looking at me. Can't you see I'm trying to lay some eggs?

June 13, 2021 - Sunday morning

51 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

A good birthing unit at the nation's best hospital has nothing over the gravel road leading to the Brule River. Turtles of every shape and size, snapper and woods turtles alike, can be found digging holes and dropping eggs. Give 'em long legs and ears and they could pass for the Easter bunny gone horribly wrong.

Yooper brother Mark and I followed the tracks this mama made yesterday morning and found her busy laying a clutch of eggs.

In my former life, back when the boys were small, we occasionally harvested large snappers and while cleaning them, would let the eggs fall into a pan that was held under the suspended female.

The eggs, more like ping pong balls, tasted better than the most farm fresh chicken eggs. 

Hey, a large family of growing boys living on a teacher's salary? If it could be grown or hunted and tasted better than shoe leather, we ate it. I'm six feet tall and by inches, the shortest of the Pennington men. Guess eating turtle eggs didn't harm any of us in the least.

Home from yesterday morning's walk, I began the final preparations for this upcoming week's hike. First was to spray what clothes I'll be wearing, including my tent, with Permethrin. 

It's an insect repellent that ticks and other creepy, crawly, flying, critters find unsavory. The nice thing about Permethrin is that after drying, the effect will last for six washings, making it a long term barrier. 

Sargie and I made a flying trip to Iron Mountain to leave several bags of clothes at the thrift shop. I donated seven or eight winter coats that were mostly worn in Alaska. I found I was holding onto them for sentimental reasons, none of which were practical.

Back home, I began the daylong process of weighing and measuring each item that went into my pack. 

Those are ounces, not pounds

Each item was weighed, then recorded, right down to the smallest wire used when charging my headlamp.

It's difficult not to be obsessive over pack weight. Every extra ounce that's in my pack is one that my back, knees, and hips, have to carry. I weighed, recorded, packed, and repacked. Trail Boss Scotty would be proud of me.

In the end, pack weight without food and water was around seventeen pounds, something that is very doable. Where the real weight lies?

FOOD and WATER.

After four days of snacks, food, and one liter of water, was added, the pack weight increased by another eight pounds. 

I was having something of a hissy fit when Sargie, calm as always, reminded me that the heaviest weight would be at the beginning and that we'd be eating our way to lighter packs as the miles rolled by. As usual, my girl was right.

A break was taken in the afternoon to watch Emerson's spring dance recital from New Hampshire. She performed in tap, hip hop (Grandpa's least favorite) and ballet, my favorite by far. Grandma Sargie and I were, indeed, very proud of Em. 

At one point during her ballet number, Grandpa had big tears rolling down his cheeks. She was a beautiful, graceful, girl, dancing to a beautiful song. I guess there's still a bit of appreciation for the fine arts that continues to reside within this old body of mine.

Macrea should arrive today around noon. We'll spray that boy's hiking clothes with Permethrin and hang them out to dry while we're filling his pack. Hopefully, we'll depart for Duluth sometime before mid afternoon. Our destination lies around four hours away.

I still haven't started a separate youtube channel yet, so what video I upload will have a link here... at least I hope so. I doubt there'll be much in the way of written word. If I do get a channel made (hopefully with Macrea's help as we drive to Duluth) I'll also post the address where you can subscribe and watch daily. (Not sure what that means, but that's what the kids say.)

OK, no doubt, I'll make an entry in the morning from the hotel before the shuttle takes us 81 miles to the north to begin our hike.

Party on, Garth.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Emerson's in the middle front

 

Emerson

June 12, 2021 - Saturday morning

58 degrees/cloudy skies/breezy

Pentoga Road

Whew, isn't she pretty? If my granddaughter looks this beautiful at seven years of age, what's she going to be when she's seventeen?

More problematic are the boys that will, at some stage, be drooling all over themselves to gain Em's attention. The father of four boys, and marrying a woman with four sons, Sargie and I talk "boy." We know and completely understand the species. Heck, I can even grunt boar hog boy language with the best of the them.

"Pull my finger, light a match, "good pull," all of that nonsense. You see, I was once a boy.

More importantly, I know what goes through a pimply faced, greasy haired, boy's mind, even if he doesn't, when he sees a pretty young lady.

Yeah, like I said, I'm glad Matt and Jess are Em's parents. 

If she were my daughter, I'm afraid I'd have to sharpen my ball bat in anticipation of the crazed lads who will, no doubt, come calling someday. 

I'm still working on losing a couple of pack pounds before next week's hike. The last time the pack was weighed, the scale registered just a bit over 22 lbs, including four days of food and two liters of water.

I was extremely happy with the way my pack felt while on a quick jaunt Friday morning. The four miles were clicked off in foggy conditions in under an hour.

Thanks to those who wrote and said nice things about the video(s). I hope to upload one daily this coming week (assuming there's cell service) and do the same next year while on the trail.

Which reminds me, I need to start a regular hiking channel on Youtube. Something else to do today. I'm not sure what it will be called, but I'll include that in tomorrow's writing.

The rest of the day was spent preparing. Since the Superior Trail store/office has been closed due to Covid, purchasing a trail guide was out of the question. I've tried repeatedly over the past six months. The only thing I could do was research the section we'll be hiking and download bits and pieces of maps then print each. Without them, we'd have no idea of distances, camping areas, water sources, and so forth.

The cool thing about bits and pieces is that if one is really careful, he can assemble all in perfect order and make a map. 

After all were connected, I went through and marked the miles and other important features of each section. It's not perfect, but far better than walking blindly on a strange trail I've never hiked before.

Friday brought no small amount of frustration in the form of lost items. I've misplaced my Merino wool socks, my Injinji toe sock liners, a compass, and most of all, my GoPro camera.

The loss of the camera is bothersome. I ALWAYS keep it in a case alongside my recliner. ALWAYS. I went to retrieve it yesterday and it simply wasn't there. I can't remember taking it outside or, other than playing with it while sitting in my chair, when I last used it.

The camera is insured, that's not the point. What is the point is that I can't remember what I may have done with it. Much calmer than I, Sargie says to not worry, that it will show up in some unexpected place in the future and all will be well. None-the-less, it's troubling.

The socks? We think I may have packed them with my winter wear while exchanging seasonal clothes a month ago. I'll get into those totes and see what I can find.

The compass is lying around here somewhere. If I can't find it this morning, I'll purchase an inexpensive one today. All I need is something that will show me where north is to keep from walking in circles if we'd get off the trail. From there on, I'm all set.

Sargie and I took a nice afternoon ride. We came across this playhouse that was on the losing end  when a tree fell across its roof.

I finished planting the last of the flowers around the garden and yard. The marigolds not only provide color, but more importantly, they act as a wonderful deterrent to the hoards of grazing deer that wander through.

Today will be much the same as yesterday. I'll continue to add and remove items from the pack. We're running to Iron Mountain to leave off a few bags of clothes at the thrift shop and to pick up any last minute trail items. It going to be a busy one.

Whoops, Mark just texted and said he's on his way out for our usual Saturday morning walk. Time to get moving.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...