Another week, another lake

Minneapolis, Minnesota


One of my sisters is quite a carpenter. In this, she channels the talents and vocations of the great-great grandparents on our mother's side who helped build many homes and churches in North Minneapolis beginning in the 1880s.


Many years ago, Carpenter Sister built – single-handedly, with an assist from a cement truck pouring the foundation – her family's second home. She and her husband chose to build it on Matson Lake near Birchwood, Wisconsin, where it served as a year-round retreat while their four children were growing up. Recently, with images of eventual retirement and the last child's tuition payment in mind, they decided to downsize to just this one abode, but only after it had been up-sized.


Two weekends ago, another sister and I made the scene on Matson's shores to haul sand and help make ready for a concrete pour that will result in a new patio, porch, garage, and – most important – a dining room. Carpenter Sister always has wanted a proper dining room where her children, grandchildren, family, and friends could gather to create the soul- and stomach- satisfying memories that let us know our lives meant something to other people, and theirs to us.


This dining room should last through several generations and any storm the elements throw at it. Its floor-to-ceiling walls will be solid concrete except for the large windows providing a million dollar view of the lake. Once installed, the metal roof will be guaranteed for 120 years. The patio will be a perfect spot for meditating upon the sounds of loons on the lake.


Lakes always have been a part of my family's life. In fact, few residents of Minnesota and Wisconsin are deprived of at least occasional encounters with them. Only four of Minnesota's 87 counties lack at least one lake of 10 acres or more, and the state has 11,842. Wisconsin has thousands more. We observe, with landlocked pride, that Minnesota's lakes have more miles of shoreline than the combined oceanfronts of California, Florida, and Hawaii.


As noted in a previous post, I spent much of last weekend on the shores of Pickerel Lake in Barnes, Wisconsin. There, nature's orchestra features crickets and frogs instead of loons.


Last evening, James Davies and I drove 25 miles west from downtown Minneapolis to Minnetrista, located on the western shore of the West Upper Lake portion of Lake Minnetonka. The occasion was a summer gathering of board members of the Plymouth Church Neighborhood Foundation, a faith-based developer of nonprofit housing; James is beginning his ninth year as a director. It was a lovely lake evening, marked by good people, weather, food, and conversation.


Lake Minnetonka is one of the hidden treasures to which I direct visitors to the Twin Cities, suggesting they make a day of driving the 110 miles of shoreline that surround 14,000 acres of water that twist in countless bays, channels, and inlets. The lake and surrounding land were denied to the Indians (Dakota Sioux, Cheyenne, Iowa, and Ojibwe) in the 1851 Treaty of Mendota. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the area drew well-to-do people from the American South to its many waterfront hotels and resorts.


As a child in the 1950s, my family's life was not complete without visits to my grandmother's summer cottage on Cook's Bay of Lake Minnetonka. The bay is named for Mathias Cook, an early settler in the 1850s. Gram's place was on Island Park (known now as Phelps Island), just across the channel bridge from the village of Mound (named for the ancient Indian burial mounds found there). James and I drove by on our way home last night. The cottage has been replaced with a year-round home. Interestingly, the garage is built into the hill under the house, as it was for the cottage.


One of my mother's cousins lived in Mound, across the bay from Gram, and I recall riding in a boat from her dock to his. Mound was the original home of Tonka Toys, a company that started life as Mound Metalcraft and was sold later to Hasbro, Inc. The town also was home to the singing Andrews Sisters who Gram claimed among her shirttail relations on her father's side.


One 4th of July, we drove to the City of Excelsior, located on another of Minnetonka's many bays, to watch fireworks. I was impressed by the scores of boats anchored offshore and thought how awesome it would be to watch fireworks from a boat. (I never have.) At other times, we visited the Excelsior Amusement Park, a regional landmark from 1925 until 1973.


Gram sold the cottage after her husband died in 1960. For our last summer there, my dad helped me build a raft. Despite our best efforts, the raft would only float if no one was on it.


In later years, our family sometimes spent a Sunday afternoon fishing on Clear Lake in Annandale, Minnesota; camping on the north shore of Lake Superior; or spending a week at the Lutheran Synod's camp on Green Lake in Chisago City. Later still, we rented a cabin on one of the lakes near Alexandria. Closer to home, we often swam in Moore Lake, near our house in Fridley.


In high school, a friend and I harvested potatoes with his extended family on their farm near Barnum/Mahtowa, south of Duluth. After a day in the field, we adjourned to a nearby lake with his cousin.


Minneapolis is known as The City of Lakes. The Minneapolis Aquatennial festival has staged activities at most of the 11 lakes within the city limits each July since 1939. As a city resident since 1974, it has been easy for me to use them while taking them for granted. During my running days of the 1970s and 80s, the paths around Lakes Calhoun, Nokomis, and Isles were the best.


For a two-month sabbatical in 2004, I resolved to walk the 3.1 miles around Calhoun at least four times a week with Gabe, the younger of our Scottish terriers. He relished such long walks in those days and would stop to swim. Gabe enjoyed waking up the ducks to have their breakfast as we watched the world around the lake come alive in the early morning hours. Afterward, we stopped at Lund's grocery store for biscuits and donuts and arrived home in time to watch a re-run of The West Wing. That routine lasted not quite three weeks before I became distracted by two, unplanned trips to Texas.


I am grateful for the many opportunities that have been given to me over the years to form lasting memories by, in, and on lakes. I hope Carpenter Sister has many satisfying years to make more Matson Lake memories in her new dining room.

Beijing and interlude

Pickerel Lake, Barnes, Wisconsin


The month of July refuses to linger.


I have noticed this for several years. Whether it is a function of one’s psychology or a law of time and physics, once the 4th of July arrives summer flashes past until the dog days of August have formed up on the horizon.


This is a good time of year to make an appearance in Northwestern Wisconsin. Although the roads leading north out of Minneapolis remain well traveled on Friday afternoons, the environs of the Eau Claire Chain of Lakes enjoy a brief respite from the arrivals and departures of the high season. All the cabins on the lake are quiet this weekend. Even the frogs have delayed their nightlong, rhythmic vocals until a later starting time.


Temperatures are cooler than normal, with a high yesterday of 78 and an overnight low of 47.


While Pickerel Lake is not connected to the 11 lakes in the Eau Claire Chain, it is part of 10,000 acres of spring-fed, clear waters that form the headwaters of the Eau Claire River. The area is bordered by Barnes on the northeast, Gordon on the southwest, and divided by Highway 27. Barnes is located in Bayfield County, 20 miles north of Hayward, the former logging town, and roughly an hour southwest of Ashland, Wisconsin, and southeast of Duluth, Minnesota. The Chequamegon [shuh–WAH–muh–gun] National Forest and the towns of the Chippewa Flowage are nearby.


I have visited here regularly since meeting James Davies 25 years ago. He was born in Ashland and his forbears founded The Daily Press there in the 19th century. Save for Barnes, his family has all passed from the area. For the last dozen years, one of my siblings has lived in Ashland with her family. An old friend, Jon, who lives in Chicago, is in the process of clearing land near Brule with his partner.


The Bayfront Blues Festival in Duluth is celebrating its 20th anniversary this weekend. The four-day event will feature 37 music acts on Lake Superior’s waterfront and is expected to draw nearly 30,000 people. For those who prefer to savor the blues inside and at night, Reverend Raven and the Chain Smoking Altar Boys played last night at the Horseshoe Billiards in Duluth, and will perform tonight at the Fortune Bay Casino in Tower.


Ship traffic in the harbor was light yesterday, with no activity at the Superior entry. The Duluth and Two Harbors entries saw the loading and unloading of coal, limestone, and iron ore pellets.


A couple days ago, I opined on Obama’s website that his campaign was flirting with throwing away a sure thing in November unless it started acting like it wanted to win. I read yesterday that it had started a new radio ad in Ohio doing just that. Also, as I recommended, several people saw the movie Mamma Mia! and told me they liked it. I always enjoy it when my advice is heard and followed.


In last weekend’s repeat broadcast of A Prairie Home Companion, Garrison Keillor’s report from Lake Wobegon concluded by observing that when one walks around holding a quarter in one’s butt, you can’t think of anything else. You had to hear it, but the hilarity of the story should have made everyone relax and let go of anything they were carrying.


I diced celery, onions, tomatoes, green peppers, and mushrooms to scramble with eggs for breakfast this morning. Since early May, we have adopted the South Beach Diet and abandoned our longstanding weekend tradition of consuming waffles, fruit, sausage, juice, and coffee. I am down 25 pounds so far, halfway to my goal.


The Summer Olympics opened in Beijing yesterday with stunning ceremonies. I am happy for all of us that China was able to present such impressive images to itself and the world. It is one of many needed developments that will hasten the day when it adapts more fully to the higher angels of its nature, the pursuit of freedom, and the rule of law in its dealings with its people and the world. (At the end of most days, I remain an optimist.)


President Bush (43) attended the ceremonies accompanied by President Bush (41), a former ambassador to China. It was an action that many, including other heads of state, urged him not to take. Before entering the country, 43 criticized China’s human rights record, albeit with tarnished moral authority.


Since March, Tibet has remained off-limits to foreign reporters. CNN remains in the Chinese doghouse because of comments made by Jack Cafferty. Internet censorship remains in effect throughout China. Annual deaths from air pollution remain near 300,000 and there is lead paint in children’s toys. We can condemn all of it. We can isolate the country and refuse to deal with it. We can declare war. Or, we can seek various levels of engagement.


Sometimes, as post-9/11 in Afghanistan, there is no choice but to fight. Earlier, however, President Reagan met President Gorbachev in Reykjavik and, later, told him in front of the world to tear down the Berlin Wall.


It is a tedious business, the tending of relations between nations. So, too, are the encounters among people on our streets.


A year ago, one of our Minneapolis freeway bridges crashed into the Mississippi River, killing 13 people and injuring more. A replacement bridge has been constructed in record time by Flatiron Construction Corp. and will open next month.


Early this week, Karl Aarsheim, a straight man, and his wife, Nikki, left a gay bar near the bridge construction site after visiting with a friend. Three men, workers on the bridge crew, attacked the man because he “looked gay,” and kicked him in the head. Two have been fired and one – Otto Marin – faces misdemeanor criminal charges. Do we condemn? Yes. Do we isolate and exile? Perhaps. Do we declare war, and execute? Hmm – what would you do, if you had been attacked? Do we engage? You know, this is a lot of thought right now –––


Unbelievable! I just took a moment to look at a piece of email news from minnpost.com. Todd Bachman, the CEO of Bachman's garden centers in Minnesota, and his wife, Barbara, were attacked by knife today at a tourist spot in downtown Beijing. Todd is dead. Barbara has had surgery for life-threatening injuries. The attacker, described as a deranged man, jumped to his own death.


I worked for the Bachman family for two years in Minneapolis more than a decade ago.


The sun is warm and bright. A cool breeze is rippling across the lake and through the trees. I need to go shed a tear.