Chapter Three - Podding ON!

Ok, so you are going to have to fast forward a bit. Our last post was in March of 2016. We intended to do more blogging and posting bit life is just life. Quick summary:

- Bought an RV, a 2016 Forest River R-Pod 178 which we have named - The Beanpod
- We travelled th KY for Tom and Suzanne's Wedding in May 2016, checking out C&O Canal Trail, GAP Trail and Ohiopyle.
- Took the Pod to Bike Virginia and dis some excellent riding in the Shenandoah Valley.

- Celebrated the arrival of Evelyn Lois Stolz on July 25, 2016

- Bean Pod had ro go back to the factory to repair a leakiy roof, curbbing RV activities for the summer.
- We visited Acadia National Park, tent camping. Enjoyed the park, the carriage roads with our bikes and kayaking on Echo Lake.
- In spring of 2017 we did a long Pod trip to Gettysburg National Battle Field, drove down the Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline Drive, to a Pod Rally on Jekyll Island, GA. We returned by stopping at Charolette NC to visit Marsha's Uncle Jacka nd Aunt Betty. We continued to Damascus, VA aka "Trail Town" where the AT crosses. We rode the Virginia Creeper Trail.

-Celebrated the departure or Lyn Argersinger, Marsha's mom at 92, in May.

I should add that there have been a bunch of shorter Pod trips to RI and in CT, and a a few trips to visit with Janice and Dave Shannon at Wolfeboro.

And now, we are on the verge of another longer summer trip. It is our 40th anniversary coming in September and in July we will take a 7 day cruise to Alaska from Seattle. To get there we will drive the Beanpod through the Badlands, stop in Wallowa County to see Rick, Doug and Jodi will come for the July 4th holiday, and we will return to Spokane with them. We leave the Beanpod there and swing through Vancouver with Doug and Jodi who will be on the same cruise but on a different ship.

So, now 10 days out, we pick up the typing again to post our way across the USA!

Happy 38th Anniversary!

Tomorrow we will observe our 38th Wedding Anniversary. As we will be driving for most of the day we celebrated this evening by going out to dinner. On a recommendation from Joey of Joey's Birdhouse we took a tour of the Stone Hill Winery in Hermann, MO. It was great. The property was a producing vineyard and winery started by German settlers in 1847. It was interrupted by Prohibition of course and had to make a comeback under new ownership in the 60's-70's. It has great wine cellars original to the property and was a lot of fun. We ate at the German themed restaurant on the property. Here are somepictures and below a YouTube video I dedicate to my wonderful wife:

 

Four Days, Ten Glaciers and Two Wayward Johnsons: Part 3 - Reflections

When we got up to the top of the moraine overlooking the small blue green lake that caught the discharge from the glacier off of the Secretary- Treasurer I could turn in a circle and count ten glaciers. We had just been through a short rain shower and the others wanted to go on to the next ridge. I chose to stay behind. I sat behind a boulder on the shoulder of the moraine and let my eyes wander from peak to peak.

For a long time I had looked at maps about the Yoho Valley and here it was. There were many questions in my mind about this part of the trip. My knees, my back, my heart, my age, my lack of physical fitness, my diabetes and the time between the last time I shouldered a backpack weighed on my mind. All of those fell away. I was able to get enough hiking in so the the trail was hard but fair. The trail was not as tough as it could have been and my body responded well to the challenge. In some ways it feels better than it has for months.

What a gift I had been given. Four days of beautiful clear weather. Up way high in the alpine. Sharing the hikes with my wife my daughter and son-in-law. I have had the joy of stepping out onto mountain vistas a few times in my life. There is always awe and magic there. It touches me deep down in some chord in my soul and waits there until the next time it can be plucked. Annie Dilliard in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek has a line that in paraphrase says, "it was like my whole life I had been a bell and had not known it until that moment when I was lifted and struck".

I also realize that at my age, and physical condition this may never happen to me again. The exuberant ones just think I am a slow old hiker. Half of it is the knowledge that I must take the time to savor this. Each step of these high hikes I had to treasure and burn into my heart. I had to suck the marrow from the broken spine of the Rockies on the chance that I might never be here again.

It is a physical, touchable joy that is hard to explain. It shrouds me in awe, it brings physical calmness and an inner peace like few things outside this world. I was glad to sit cloaked in awe for the hour it took the others to grab one more ridge. I just sat and listened to the wind and my breathing, surrendering to the grandeur before me. If the Lord had decided to take me then and there, it would have been alright with me. I was glad I could hear Marsha coming back so I could wipe a tear, and that she and I stayed for a bit while the young ones hiked down. My plunge steps were cushioned by joy as we went back down to the hut. I really don't remember the hike out the next day except that it was slow and deliberate and I had a smile on my face. Some people get stuck someplace and walk out saying, "Well, that is an hour of my life I will never get back". For me that hour is one that will always stay with me.

Don't the days grow shorter as the hours go by,
You never get to stop and open your eyes,
Spirits open to a thrust of grace,
Never a breathe you can afford to waste...

Sondra Grizzlyfingers and the B.V.B.S.

Sondra Grizzlyfingers and the B.V.B.S.

dedicated to Sondra Grizzlyfingers and Sir Charles of Evans

Sondra Grizzlyfingers was turning 5 years old. She wanted a very special present. She wanted press on nails. Most girls turning 5 don’t get press on nails for a birthday present, but she was insistent. She bugged her Mom and Dad for them. She told them that she thought that they would make her look beautiful just like the older girls she had seen in magazines. She bugged them night and day telling how happy press on nails would make her feel. On the day of her birthday, sure enough she got her nails.She was very happy to press them on and show them off.

What she did not tell her Mom and Dad was that she had a secret deep in her heart. She did want the nails to make herself beautiful and fashionable like the older girls, but there was more. In her heart she had always wanted to join a bear clan. She knew that if she got those press on nails she would look more like a bear, and be one step closer to being able to join an bear clan. She knew this was kind of nutty, so she kept the secret wish to herself and told no one.

Later that summer her Mom and Dad took her and her brother. Sir Charles of Evans, on a family vacation to the Canadian Rockies.  It was going to be a wonderful trip and maybe Sondra Grizzlyfingers would be able to meet some bears and ask how she might be able to join a bear clan.

On the trip the family went on a hike to a beautiful meadow. The meadow was full of wildflowers and berries. It was going to be a glorious hike. Just as they were about to start Mom said,”Oh no, I think we have a problem here.”

Sondra turned and all of a sudden she smelled it. Sir Charles had messed in his diaper. And this was no ordinary mess.  It was big, and it stunk! It was going to take both Mom and Dad to clean this one! And they were just on the edge of the beautiful meadow. Mom said, “Dad and I are going to quickly take Charlie to the car and clean this up. You stay right here Sondra, we are going to be right back.

Sondra was kind of mad at her brother, but she made the best of it. She used her nails and pretended she was a bear. She picked a berry here, she picked a flower there. She ate red raspberries, and blue huckleberries. She sniffed yellow flowers, she sniffed purple flowers.

All of a sudden she looked up. She was no longer at the edge of the meadow, in fact she was not sure where she was. The meadow was like a sea of flowers with no end and no beginning. she tried going right for while, she tried going left for a while, she still did not know where she was or how to get back to the edge.

She tried again. Left, right back and forth. She called out. She listened for people calling for her. Nothing. The sun sunk behind the mountains. It was getting dark. Sondra Grizzlyfingers realized she was lost! She sat down, put her grizzlyfingers over her face and cried.

Out of the shadows stepped a bear. A big grizzly bear! It huffed and grunted and growled a little. Most people would be scared. However, Sondra’s mother had been teaching her English, but other languages like French, and Spanish. Sondra was getting very good at these languages. What she hadn’t told her mother was that secretly she was teaching herself another language, Bearish - the language of bears. so, while other humans might hear growls and grunts, she heard the bear say, “Hello, little one! What pretty claws you have. What are you doing way out here in the meadow? My name is Momma Grizzly. What is yours child?”

In her best Bearish, Sondra Grizzlyfingers told Momma Grizzly that she had wandered away from her family, and she was lost. She also told Momma Grizzly about her wish to join a bear clan someday. Momma Grizzly told her that she did not know where her family was, but if she wanted to join a bear clan maybe she could help.

She explained that her bear cubs had been with her for two years as they grew up. This was the summer where they could go out on their own so they could start their own families. For the first time in a long time she was by herself. She missed her cubs, but knew they had to grow and move on. She told Sondra that if she wanted, she could stay with Momma Grizzly. Momma Grizzly would have a “new” cub to raise and Sondra could join Momma Grizzly’s bear clan.

Sondra thought about it. If she had lost her human family, this might be the best thing. Momma Grizzly seemed very nice. She told Momma Grizzly that she would be glad to become her cub and join the bear clan.

They spent the next few hours before it got dark eating berries for dinner. Momma Grizzly showed her how to tell the best berry patches. She taught her how to her how to use her press on claws to scratch the ground to get tasty roots. She even taught her how to find the super sweet Saskatoon berry! As the daylight faded, Momma Grizzly led her to her den, just off the meadow in the woods. She curled up in the den hugging Sondra Grizzlyfingers to her belly to keep her warm. Sondra was warm and cozy all night night.

The next morning, Momma Grizzly stretched and yawned. She told Sondra that it was going to be a great day. She was going to take Sondra to meet the rest of the clan. First however, they had to get breakfast.

“Come Sondra,” said Momma Grizzly, “we need to get breakfast. I have been keeping my eye on a herd of elk just over the pass. That will make a nice breakfast”

Sondra and Momma Grizzly climbed up into the pass. The looked down at the meadow on the other side. There were the elk.

“Look, Sondra.” said Momma Grizzly, “That little elk off to the side by the woods will make a nice breakfast.”

Sondra followed Momma Grizzly around the edge of the forest. They walked quietly, sneaking up on the young elk that had wandered off to the side. When they were just close enough, Momma Grizzly, leaped out the woods with one big jump. Sondra had never seen anything animal or human move so fast.

In one move Momma Grizzly had the young, elk pinned to the ground. The young elk was bleating and crying calling the other elk to come and help. Momma Grizzly yelled to Sondra, “Quickly Sondra, make the kill, before the other big elk come. Use your grizzly fingers, rip open her belly, I’ll hold her! Come on, it will be your first kill as a bear!”

Sondra, was stunned. She could not move. The young elk was crying and scared. Momma Grizzly held her perfectly for Sondra to make the kill. She couldn’t do it. She could not kill the elk. She just stood there.

The other elk were running over. Big adult elk with antlers that could really do some damage.  Momma Grizzly let the young elk go, grabbed Sondra and dashed back into the woods before the big elk could get there.

After they caught their breath, Momma Grizzly said, “Oh Sondra, I am so sorry. Did you not know that bears sometimes kill other animals to eat?”

Sondra shook her head no. Momma Grizzly explained that bear mostly ate berries, flowers and roots, but also ate meat. If they could kill and eat an elk, or a sheep, or a mountain goat they would. Sometimes they caught fish to eat. Sondra told her that she never thought she could kill others animals to eat. She knew the young elk was helpless and scared. It was just like she felt when she was lost. She could never take her grizzlyfingers and kill another animal.

Momma Grizzly, finally said, “I am so sorry Sondra Grizzlyfingers. If you can’t kill to eat, you can’t join my bear clan. Maybe I should try to take you back to your family.” Sondra, was sad and cried about not being able to join the bear clan, but wiped the tears away and agreed it was best to try to go back and find her family.

Momma Grizzly took Sondra back around a mountain and through a pass. There below they could look down on the big meadow where Sondra got lost. She could tell it was the meadow because way at the far end, she could see flashing lights and park trucks and a lot of people. There was even a helicopter. Her family and the park rangers were looking for her!

Momma Grizzly said, “Oh, no! I can’t go down there! The last time I got close to those park rangers, I got shot  with a tranquilizer dart and fell asleep. When I woke up I had a big radio collar around my neck. I wore that thing for two years before it fell off. I think they were tracking me and my cubs everywhere we went. I am not doing that again. You’re going to have to do this on your own Sondra. Look ahead, just keep very straight as you cross the meadow. You will run right into them.

Sondra Grizzlyfingers, said that she thought she could do it alone. She thanked Momma Grizzly for all her help and was about to start off, when Momma Grizzly said, “Wait a minute, I just thought of something! You told me you lived in Master-chew-nuts or something, right?”

Sondra said yes she did (she was too polite to correct Momma Grizzly, that it was pronounced Massachusetts, in human English).  Momma Grizzly went on to say that she had heard of a small clan of bears that lived in western Massachusetts. Momma Grizzly said, “This clan of bears had decided that they will not eat meat, or kill other animals to live as bears. They are a very small clan, but they are interested in getting more bears to join them. The are called the Berkshire Vegan Bear Society or the B.V.B.S. It is hard to find them as they live quietly, but they do have an office in a town called Amherst. The office does something called “advocacy” ,whatever that is, but if you still want to be a bear that does not eat meat, this is the bear clan you ought to talk to.”

Sondra Grizzlyfingers thanked her again and walked off in a straight line across the big meadow. In a short while the park rangers and her family heard a grunting and growling noises coming through the tall flowers. The rangers raised their tranquilizer guns, but it was Sondra Grizzlyfingers who stepped out. Sondra had been calling and yelling for her family, but she forgot she was speaking in Bearish and all her family and the rangers heard was grunting and growling. She quickly switched back to English, and yelled, “Mommie, Daddy, Charlie, it’s me, Sondra! I am back I found you!”

Sondra’s family was so glad to see her and she was glad to see them. She was so happy to be back with them, that she did not care that they did not believe her story of meeting Momma Grizzly (and she did not mind being scolded for wandering away from where her parents told her to stay. The family went on to enjoy a great vacation.

And next year for her 6th birthday, all Sondra Grizzlyfingers wants is a trip to Amherst, Massachusetts to find the office of the Berkshire Vegan Bear Society and she is beginning to bug her Mom and Dad about it already.

Cloudy With a Chance of Thunder & Bears

Surprisingly we have hit our first patch of cloudy weather. We have hit some showers and some overnight rain in spots. It rained last night, and it was cold. This AM we woke not to our usual post rain partly cloudy moving toward sunny day, but low hanging clouds and a morning that threatened rain at any moment would not warm up. We are talking lots of layers that did not come off. We have deferred any hiking plans for a while and are using the late morning to be back at the visitor center (warm, dry & wifi) to catch up on a little Internet activity. We move to Banff tomorrow. Katie and Nate will be here on Saturday!

It looks like most folks with kids (including a large well behaved teenage group) were thinking the same thing. One of the things that Peter Lougheed Park features is a camping area and lodge for special needs families. It is nice to see so many families with special needs children (and young adults) at the visitor center and around the park.

The rains last night gave a dump of snow to the highest peaks we can see when the cloud part for a little bit. We are going to try for Rawson Lake later today and if it looks like a dump of rain there is a shorter trail that features the story of a Canadian Everest Expedition.

 (All right, hold it right here, a guy just walked through the lounge area of the visitors center jingle jangling away. No wait now he is circling back through the exhibits, jingle jangle, jingle jangle. I glad he is doing the work of scaring the bears away, but beyond the stuffed grizzly near he entrance, I wonder how many bear he expected to find in here? )

The bear thing is very curious to me. Clearly there is no minimizing the fact that bears live here, they need the large unbroken ranges of forest to have enough land to flourish. It is also true that moving people into areas where bears live increases the chances of contact and contact with adverse effect on one or both parties. It is also proper for park conservationists to use the opportunity as a "teachable moment" and educate visitors to the needs of bears and the things humans can do to avoid adverse contact.

Forty years ago on my first trip to Banff (yeah, yeah, once again, big ups and shout outs to Doug Hammerstrom) we woke in the night to hear big banging sounds. The next morning we found that it wa bears. Two were sleeping up in a tree near our campsite For garbage at that time they used standard dumpsters. The bears figured out that by banging them on the side, they could rock them and if they rocked them hard enough, they could tip them scattering garbage and allowing easy access.

Thirty years ago on another trip, in the same campground, we had all our food for a four day trip out on the picnic table dividing it up. As we turned back to the truck to get something, a black bear walked out of the woods and feasted just on all our trip food shredding all the plastic storage bags.

Things are very different today. There is active bear management by managing humans. Bear proof  containers garbage are everywhere. Signs are posted that you are in bear country, that you have to keep a clean camp, that food left unattended is a danger and rangers have the power to confiscate unattended food  and take further action. There has not been a place we have stayed while in "bear country" where educational programs on bears have not been standard fare at visitor centers and evening camp programs. As a consequence we do see that tourists are very "bear aware" with bells and whistles and cans of bear spray on their belts. I was surprised at the number of places that would "rent" you a can of bear spray for $5 per day.

As, I tried to tell in one of my stories, we follow the best advice we heard in a ranger talk. Bells give you a false sense of security and can lull you into inattention. We like the active use of bear calls, conversation and singing. Your active response to the situation around you (are you in land where there are ripe berries, are you coming around a blind corner where you might surprise a bear) is a better defense than jingle jangle.

I guess that getting the general tourist a little overhyped on bear etiquette does have the ancillary effect of heightening awareness of bear issues in the mind of the general public. It does seem to exploit the fear factor a bit, and turn the likelihood of bear contact into a bit of a drama. However, if that allows the general public to gain some knowledge of bear management issues that they can take away from the parks, and be mindful of in their life as citizens, a little overkill is OK. 

Why I Love Camping In Canada

I dont know if I have written about this here in the blog but this is my 40th anniversary of my first trip to the Canadian Rockies. Yes, Douglas Hammerstrom you can take a deep bow this morning in Colorado for arranging a two week excursion in a VW Microbus for 5 guys with a lot of excess testosterone to visit the pictures of Banff you saw in National Geographic. So, wrong in your choices in politics, yet so right in your choices in recreation. Such a life changing inspirational trip that this is my fifth and Marsha's 4th trip back to the area. I could go on here for a while but this post would have to be tagged with the label back-in-the-day and that is really not the point of this.

There is in my mind a difference in how Canada approaches outdoor recreation, especially camping. Here at the Townsite in Waterton Lakes there is a European-International vibe. Some of it is the origin of the park from the railroad days a hundred years ago where you built places like the Prince of Wales Hotel and bent the railroads to bring folks to the resort. The townsite has a little village of shops and small restaurants. Not a lot, but just enough to take a stroll or a bike ride from the campground to have a bite to eat and spend some tourist dollar. It is quaint, baskets of flowers hanging along the streets, lots of benches to stop and sit, bike racks if you rode in.

The campground itself has hot showers (and not quarter showers, just push the button and out it comes). There are kitchen shelters near each of the loops. These are enclosed buildings with long picnic tables, wood stoves and lights. It is like they are saying, " Yeah, sometimes it is going to be bad weather. It can be rainy, windy and cold. You are going to want to be able to hang out in a dry space to cook or eat or just play cards or read a book. You don't have to huddle in your tent."

This morning I was up early so, I grabbed my Kindle and the rest of our electronic resources, and headed for the kitchen shelter with a bag chair. I plugged in the devices for a good charge while I read for and hour (note to family members glued to iDevices. Cold weather, and it was real cold last night , zaps battery life, sleep with you iPhone). Nothing fancy but the shelter got me a charge up a quiet hour or so in a comfortable spot.

I also get 4 hours of free wifi a day in the campground and the downtown village (I could pay for higher or faster usage). There is a laundromat in the village

This in contrast to our recent experience in the US at what arguably is the premier campground in one of the top US National Parks. At Apgar Campground there were no showers, there were no electrical hookups for RV's (meaning that when it was not quiet hours, generators were humming to charge RV batteries or run AC/Heaters). The only wifi was outside the visitors center (and no posted notice of it in the campground). It took two tries before Marsha discovered that the little snack shop in Apgar Village did have hot dogs and buns. There was no restuarant, and West Glacier was a drive out of the park. And let me add we LOVED our time there.

I guess I am trying draw the distinction about the feel of the experience. I know that I will have the same options in Banff and Jasper around the campground services. I have experienced the same in style of campground accommodations at Prince Edward Island. I don't want to get out on a philosophical limb here but it is almost like the US is the stance of the rugged individual. You can pit yourself against the environment, and go CAMPING (as long as you haul your RV/House) with you for comfort. The Canadian experience for me has been, hey, this place is great and beautiful, come and enjoy it it. We love being the outdoors, lets make it easy and relaxing.

I do not know if I am reading too much into it but we do greatly prefer camping in Canada and would choose it over the US anyday. It is looking like pizza downtown for supper, and tomorrow we are going for afternoon tea (after some morning activity and a shower) at the Prince of Wales.

One More Word on Theodore

After visiting Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and reading David McCullough's book Mornings On Horseback about TR's formative years, I have been trying to reconcile several ideas in my head. Roosevelt is celebrated for his advancement of "the strenuous life". He calls the outdoor life a "tonic" and points to his outdoor activities as a major part of shaping his life experience. Historically he is credited with bringing forward the ideas of conservation and outdoor adventure as part of the thinking that pushed the idea into the mainstream of American thought and psyche.

Except his experiences lead from his position as a wealthy elite. In fact the elite of the elite. His family's wealth was of long standing and entrenched from his grandfather's time. His house were of the upstairs/downstairs Downton Abbey style. Not in physical size but with servants in the lower house cooking and upstairs servants to serve meals and attend to family needs.  In his childhood his father and mother took the entire family to Europe for a year of travel, and they went again through Europe onto Egypt  a chartered rip on a boat down the Nile (complete with servants). Nobody had to go into work and punch a clock. True the Roosevelt family did attend to business, but the ability to walk away for long periods of time was a testament to the wise investment choices made by the family and the size of their fortune. His explorations come with the extra "padding" of wealth to hire support in the form of guides and cooks and manservants.

Roosevelt comes to the Dakotas ostensibly on business to explore about raising cattle in the North Dakota badlands. He is also a crux point in his life. He has just lost his beloved wife who died just after giving birth to his first child. On the same day his mother died. Two beloved figures in his life. He turns his daughter over to his sister to be raised. I cannot fathom his grief. He plunges on with some politics in the spring but after the Republican convention he is off to the Dakotas.

In the Dakotas he does have help from folks who were guides for him in Maine. It is also said that he threw himself into learning the trade of ranching, never being a very skilled cowboy but adequate and willing to the tasks.

McCullough never says it but I can imagine him riding out to the edge of a grassy butte and just letting the tears flow. Roosevelt in some of his writings talks about this being a change point in his life. Now being unfettered with family he faces decisions about his life. His experiences in the Badlands are a way for him to step away from New York re-gather himself through the tonic of the vigorous life and plunge ahead.

And yet it was his wealth that allowed him to do it. His cattle venture cost him about some $700000 in today's money. As a young man he was able to step away, sort out his life as best he could, weather a financial loss and see his change circumstance as a product of a vigorous life on the range. He was not the workaday cowboy supporting the daily tasks and the venture after Roosevelt returned to his city and wealth based life. Maybe in some way you needed to be financially independent to allow the tonic of the wilderness to work on you. Otherwise you  are just a work-a-day-joe whose roping and riding are a paycheck rather than a adventure to write about or to be able to tell stories about in the drawning rooms of high society.

It is not without notice that I also am at a change point in my life. I don't have Roosevelt's means but there is a certain parallel that for the short time we have the means to travel and the luxury of time and the wilderness to short out what comes next. So for it has been for us, like Roosevelt, a delightfully bully tonic!

Saturday is Laundry Day at Brownies

We moved from West Glacier to East Glacier this morning. We are back at Brownies Bakery, Deli, Laundromat, $5 Shower Stop, Worlds Largest Purple Spoon associated with the next door Whistle Stop Cafe (outdoor seating if you would not mind being careful to step up as you go through a sliding glass window to the roadside patio).

The hostel (et al) has an abundance of character. The floors creak. From your second floor room you can see through to the store below from the missing knots in the pine floor, and the second floor hostel porch where I sit now has a pitch of about 15% from the wall of the building out to the railing. But a nice breeze, comfy padded chairs, a plug for charging and 5 bars on the wifi allow me to rest sore legs, and watch the world go by. Marsha is fighting for washer and dryer space in the laundromat, buying wooden spoons in the spoon shop and taking advantage of the "fire sale" on the "ash" colored tee shirts in the shop across the street. Dinner will be out tonight.

The hostel is also a fire trap. It is old and all wood. I think we are in land that is part of the Blackfeet Reservation and I think there may be a looser standard of regulation. I can understand the stance of the rugged Western individualism, I can understand the loose regulation in small place, but any health and safety regulator, even the most lax and on the take, would have a tough time letting this place slide by. However it is cheap, convenient, and it has a certain vibe that says that it is what it is. Don't expect more, don't expect less, this is enough to cover your bases, it will be fine.

It is worth knowing about for the future as the town of East Glacier is an Amtrak stop.  The lady at the shop across the street said that about 200 people per day disembark. East Glacier has a waiting room and baggage services (including bikes). West Glacier is also a stop but no services.

We have decided to stay in East Glacier at Brownies for two nights. We are on the east side and the fire still goes on. Simpler to stay put, as our room is available tomorrow as well. Also, we are relearning the time honored lessons of travel, less is more, deeper experiences are better than broader experiences and hot showers and clean underwear are worth it.

Glacier National Park: Day 2 - Fire On The Mountain

Here was the plan for today. Take the 7AM Logan Pass shuttle up the Going to the Sun Road. At the top we would head north along one of the premier trails in the world - the Highline Trail. Yesterday Going to the Sun Road was closed late in the day as a small fire on the east side exploded into a 100 acre fire due to the high winds. Campgrounds on that side had to be evacuated and hiker were being located and the fire expanded rapidly. We still got up very early to queue for the first bus out just in case, but no dice, road was closed over the top all day.

So, let me tell you about the end of day 1, after we nabbed a campsite. We did a short hike up Avalanche Creek to Avalanche Lake. It is in a beautiful cirque fed from water exiting the Sperry Glacier. We counted five cascading waterfall coming over the headwall feeding the lake. Great hike, not to hard, just enough to let your legs know they were working.

On the return to the campsite we happened on a scene just on the road by our site. A couple about our age flagged down a ranger and gave him an earful. Playing the game of campsite roulette the arrived early (like us), tagged their site and then took off in their Mercedes motorhome for the day. WHen they returned someone was set up in their site. The woman was angry and frustrated, and the ranger was trying to figure out options on the fly. With all of the loops and other NP campsites full, it was going to be a long late drive to find something else. Her frustration was getting the better of the situation. I was teasing the young couple the next site over, by saying - watch this, I am going to go over there and tell  them that for $100 they can park on our site , but they have to sleep in our tent and we get to sleep in the Mercedes. With the situation escalating, it was not time for jokes butit was a good idea in principle. We ended up just making the offer of sharing our site through the ranger, they accepted, and things got immediately better for them. Until of course next morning at 6:15 AM while stuffing my car keys into the bottom of the pack to scoot for the early shuttle, I set off the car alarm and it took a few minutes to shut it off. 

The shuttles did not run up and over today, so the early up was a waste. Marsha just so a notice that it is now up to 2000 acres. Not a lot of hope for tomorrow, but we will try the early express. Back up plan is taking the time for huckleberry pancakes. 

We ended up doing a little biking, and I got to go fishing. First on the shores of Lake McDonald with spinning rod and fly casting into the wind. Later I got out onto the river outflow from the lake. No success except a few nibbles. I got one to follow a lure a few feet, had another rise to a fly and spit it twice, and on the river just one nibble but was in a good area as several small fish jumped near me. It was a windy day and you had to watch your casting but it was a real joy to fish in such clear water. The lake became tedious as the gravel shore line got into my sandals and the clarity masked depth. One false step and knee deep became chest deep and then swim time. The water was cold but not frigid Marsha got in for a lake swim before summer. 

On the river I was able to fish a hole just below a bridge and the water was warmer. I could wade across in water up to my belly button. I had great fun casting and floating flies and nymphs out in the middle of the river. It just amounted to a few hours of casting practice, which I needed. In the end I got much better at shooting the line and getting it where I wanted. Lots of wind but no wind knots and with t he clear water it was easy to figure out likely spots of cover to cast to, They were just not buying what I was selling. 

I am at the Apgar Visitor Center which actually closed a few hours ago. Marsha observed someone yesterday plugging a device into an outlet on the side of the building. Building has free wifi, is just down the street from the huckleberry ice cream stand. Charging and blogging, a pleasant way to spend a few hours. Here are the pictures:

 

Alaska Sky, the Grandpuppy

So, these house sitters we engaged to take care of the house had us over a barrel. When it was too late to cancel our trip, the demanded that they be allowed to get a puppy. So, welcome the new grandpuppy, Alaska Sky - as in: Because we bought you we will not have enough money next summer to go to Alaska, Sky....

Last Days of School

Coming down to the wire. I have taught my last lesson with Chromebooks, I have been cheered at an all school assembly, gotten a great card with lots of kid signatures, and dumped on by water bucket for the winning team in the "Fun in Your Backyard" activity. One more kid day, then one more teacher day, and then -

School's out for summer!

School's out forever!

School's out with fever!

School's out completely!

 

 

The Last Bulletin Board

Dear Friends,

We race through June and I find myself looking at my last few days of school. I will retire at the end of the school year. It is a time when it is important to remember and to say thank you. I have been  doing that a lot these days.

I wanted to find a way to thank my online community of educators, my PLC, who have been such an important part of my teaching and learning, especially over the last 10 years. I am struggling to figure out an adequate way to do it.  I thought that I would just make a very long FB post with the names of all the folks that I have connected with through the dawn of Web 2.0, and the infancy of educational blogging. I tried to go back to old conference resources to refresh my memory as to not overlook someone. It was jaw dropping.  My list of people it was important to thank quickly grew to over one hundred, and was still climbing before I stopped.  I thought about people whose blogs I read, who I  listened to on podcasts, tweeted with on Twitter, became friends with on Facebook or through Nings and Wikispaces or connected with at Educon, K-12 Online, ISTE, November Learning, EdCamps, Discovery DEN, Second Life, GAFE Summits, PD in PJ’s, or met through a host of regional meetups. And look, the list of just the places, never mind the individual people,  is too long!

What a journey we have been on!

So, I cannot thank you all individually. All I can say is that I treasure your friendship. You have nourished me, inspired me, challenged me, put up with me, and changed my teaching and learning forever. The kids and teachers in my schools have benefitted from your passion and wisdom.  I was grateful for your acceptance and welcome in the beginning, and still need you today.

However  after 33 years I am going to step aside for a little bit.  Not too far and I think not for too long. There are some things I promised myself (and my wife) that I want to get to while life is still young. I like to tell my local friends that I will still be a teacher, I just won’t have to go to school anymore. For the next few months at least, you can follow me at the following blog: After School Adventures: http://sokosafterschool.blogspot.com

Baseball in Babinskiland - A Trip to Fenway

Jose Reyes Warms Up

US Flag on the Monstah

Stilt Walker on Yawkey Way

Marsha's Favorite Blue Jay - R. A. Dickey

Wonderful trip to Fenway on a beautiful June Sunday. Great seats on the 3rd base side courtesy of old friend Mike Babinski.  Unfortunately, right now the Red Sox stink and the game got away from them very fast. They played awful baseball. They let a pop fly into a high tough sun drop between, Pedroia, Bogarts, Castillo, and whomever the bozo they had in right, De Aza, I think. Tough sun, but there were 4 professional baseball players close enough to touch each other and nobody stuck a glove out. De Aza took a bad called 3rd strike and was so unsure of himself in right he let at least 3 balls drop in front of him rather charge it for the out (or he is slower than a bag of rocks). The young fireballer just up from AAA got into trouble early but Farrell kept him in for 5 runs as he struggled with staying ahead in the count. When he finally gave him the hook, his new reliever Steven Wright coughed up a two run home run on his first pitch.

Kale at the ballpark - a sign that the apocalypse is upon us.

Retirement

I am down to the wire. In a few short days I will retire after 33 years of being a teacher. I think that I will always be a teacher, but after June 23rd I will not have to go to school anymore. Here are some remarks I made at our district retirement recognition reception last evening .....

So, a podium, a microphone, a captive audience and ….Sokoloski. Who thought THIS was a good idea? Celeste?

As you approach retirement, you know that this day and this particular time is coming.  Stories and memories of 33 years (15 at EASTCONN and 18 here in Mansfield) float to the surface of your brain. It is hard to sort through them all and and choose what to say.

There are stories of laughter and fun. There are stories of sadness and pain.  There are stories of how the events of the world shook our little schools to the core and stories of steely resolve to protect the lives we care for everyday. There are stories of enormous courage, faith and love, that demonstrate unfathomable  depths of compassion towards our students, each other and our community. And there, are stories of irascibility and stubbornness, when we were not at our best for our students nor for each other.

There are stories of when we reached high, worked incredibly hard, and touched excellence. When teaching became so perfect, it felt like you were dancing in the front of the classroom and every moment of a lesson you designed flowed from somewhere deep within you, and yet was somehow was also coming from beyond you. And you won awards and accolades and praise. And then, there were the train wreck lessons when chaos ruled the classroom. There are stories that are profane, and stories that are scatalogical, and stories that are both profane and scatalogical. There are stories that would keep a whole team of lawyers down at Shipman and Goodman untangling Title 9 issues  for years.

And then, there are a whole genre of stories that are so bat crap crazy that if you told them outside of this room, people’s jaws would drop and they never would believe you for a minute, no matter how hard you tried. But, if you told the same story here, people in this room would turn to each other, nod their heads and say, “Yup, just another day in paradise!”

So, I am not going to tell embarrassing stories about us. Not that you don’t deserve it, it just that I wouldn’t want leave out somebody who really deserved it. You are off the hook, except for three educators that I have to talk about.

The first is a Speech Pathologist, the Hermione Granger of the preschool division of the West Hartford Public Schools, my elder daughter Sarah, of whom I am so proud. The next is a Physical Education and Health teacher at Ellington Middle School, the hottest young softball coach of the Connecticut River Valley Middle School League, my incredibly talented younger daughter Katie. These two young ladies have brought two fine gentlemen into my life my sons-in-law Bryan and Nate who are working today. How great is that, son-in-laws at work while the girls get to party! They have fully grasped the concept of “marrying up” and have understood that the more they allow their father-in-law to beat them at golf the more often he will pay for their rounds.

The last educator is my retired Biology teacher wife, Marsha. Those that know me best, know that if I have been able to contribute anything to the Mansfield Public Schools, it is because this good woman has for most of these last 18 years put her cold feet into the small of my back when the alarm went off at 4:45 in the morning and pushed me out bed saying, “You are going to the gym today aren’t you?”  And then just as lovingly got up went into the kitchen and put together my lunch, and breakfast and to walk me out to the car reminding me to check for my wallet, phone, keys, and in recent years making sure I did not forget to gulp down a handful of drugs.

Would you join me in a round of applause as I tell my wife of 37 years, how much I love her and how much I am looking forward to the freedom and adventures retirement will bring?

I did want to say one word about Fred. I know we all are sad and mad and frustrated about whatever that was that went on.  I know I am. However,  for almost of of my time in Mansfield he was my boss. I always found him to be honest, fair, and a straight shooter. He held me accountable when I needed it, cut me slack when I deserved it  and offered me compassion in some tough times in my life. I could not leave without saying thanks to him.

For the rest of you guys, let me just say thank you for allowing me to grow and learn. I am better technically, intellectually and professionally for working with you. You have taught me to be more kind, more patient, and more understanding as a person. I leave as a better human being  for the time I had teaching with you all.

And to the community of Mansfield especially those here tonight who have or had children in our schools,  thank you for letting me hang out with your kids. It has been an honor and a privilege to teach them.

Softshell Crab

One of my Nonnie's favorites and my mother's as well. Softshell crab, fresh from the deep fryer, on toast with a slice of lettuce, tartar sauce and squeeze of lemon. In the months without an R there it did not take much convincing to get everybody into the Plymouth for a drive to Jimmies of Savin Rock. The outdoor Jimmies, not the restaurant that followed it. Jimmie himself behind the front facing counter/grill taking orders and shouting them back. Hamburgh Wha-one! Hot Dog Twoooo!

If there is a heaven I have to believe that there is a summer seafood shack there, just off the beach with the sea smell mixing with the smells of fried food.  And now that it is summer, I hope that my grandmother and mother have made their way there for their crabs, with my father and grandfather in tow, so they can belly up to the raw bar to enjoy their favorite, fresh clams on the half shell,

Dinner tonight sure brought back some wonderful memories.

Airline Trail in Colchester

With Marsha and my photography sensi Mike Babinski out on the rail trail for a 25 mile spin. Nice tip on the people shot, did not execute the flowers very well.

Paris Review - My First Time

New series of videos produced by The Paris Review in collaboration with filmmakers Tom Bean, Casey Brooks and Luke Polling. Here is the link to the Paris Review YouTube Channel where the series is being posted.

https://www.youtube.com/user/theparisreviewable

Lunch

Lunch at Passiflora Tea House and Herbal Shoppe, New Hartford.

Retro Ride

Could not resist pulling over at a tag sale yesterday to buy an item from the past. Sarah Lynn Stolz - do you remember when this was your ride instead of your Prius - official car of the Farmington Valley? #readywhenyouare

The Coming of Spring

After a too long winter and a late, late arrival, spring is finally digging in to transition our world from gray to green. We are in that special week or so where budding trees paint the hillsides with subtle pale pastels of red, green, and yellow. It is the counterpoint of that short brilliant week in autumn where the trees are in a blaze of glory and then when you look around you realize it is gone. The spring week is just as time precious but the show is sneaky and slower on the eye. It is a sideways glance in the early morning light that makes you notice the hillside dabbed with brush strokes of faint paint. A pixelated impressionist landscape of almost imperceptibly different hues of green mixed with the reds of the maples all against a mat of gray tree trunks and blue sky. It will be gone in days but it is glorious to behold.  The picture of a local beaver pond taken on a mundane early morning weekend dump run does not do things justice but I hope it conveys some of the glory.