Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park in Michigan

August 15-17, 2010

We entered the park at the western end at the Presque Isle River area and hiked around the waterfalls and rapids for a couple hours.  Simply fabulous.  There are three waterfalls, none terribly high, but just gorgeous.  The water is tinged with brown from tannin, so the water flies over the rocks caramel-colored.  There is a suspension bridge to an almost island near the mouth into Lake Superior.  There were a zillion or so steps, but it was worth the ups and downs.  Along the island the channel narrows, and the rapids swirl so fast that potholes have formed in the sides of the rock where the eddying water and debris cut round holes in the rock.  So cool.

We camped two nights in Union Bay campground on the eastern edge of the park.  Nice campground right on the red rocky shore.  The Porkies were set aside as a park to preserve the last big tract—35.000 acres—of virgin hardwood and hemlock forest in the Midwest.  Lake of the Clouds is lovely as reputed.  We wanted to hike more, but the trails—90 miles of them—tend to be rough with rocks and roots, something very difficult for Don.  So we did a number of shorter hikes including the Summit Peak with lots of stairs.  We also hiked into the Union Mine site, the Nonesuch Mine site, and the Overlooked Falls.  Don did amazingly well with the trails, rough as they are.  He used his support blind cane to double as a hiking stick which helped a lot.  This is a wonderfully relaxing place—so old with the remnants of the copper mining history, old growth forest, and Lake Superior relentlessly beating the red rock layers.

We did have one exciting moment.  On the Union mine trail, the path was getting rougher, so Don took advantage of a bench and told me to just go on without him.  A few hundred feet further I loudly read an interpretive sign to him and then continued on.  I hadn’t gone more than 25 or 30 feet when I heard a tremendous groan and crash.  A huge dead birch tree landed in front of the sign I had just left.  I would have been killed a minute earlier.  A near-death experience does make a person thank God and the guardian angels.

Big Top Chautauqua Oral History Project, Passport in Time

Big Top Chautauqua Oral History Project

Passport in Time

August 9-13, 2010

I have always wanted to see one of the original history musical shows the Big Top Chautauqua does in Bayfield, Wisconsin, but we have never been here when they were performing one.  Passport in Time is a program of the USDA Forest Service that gathers volunteers for historical and archeological projects.  When I saw a PIT Chatauqua project, we decided to join.    

The PIT project’s goal is to create an oral history of the Big Top Chautauqua in Bayfield to be archived with the Wisconsin Historical Society and to provide material for a special exhibition next year commemorating the 25^th anniversary of the Chautauqua.  We had two days of training in gathering of oral history led by Mary Rehwald, assisted by Susan Nelson of the US Forest Service and Linda Mittlestadt of the Wisconsin Historical Society.  Our headquarters was the Northern Great Lakes Visitor Center outside of Ashland.

The project involved interviewing 35 people involved with the Big Top Chautauqua in Bayfield from its inception by Warren Nelson with his partner Betty Ferris and others through the present after 24 years of operation.  Nelson and Ferris created a number of musical history shows over 30 years about the area using actual words from journals and writings of the time, original songs and some prose soliloquies all performed in front of a huge screen showing period pictures of the events being sung about.  They did shows for the centennials of Washburn (Souvenir Views), Bayfield (Riding the Wind) and other towns, for the sesquicentennials of Wisconsin (The 30^th Star) and Minnesota, and for the centennial of the National Park System (Centennial Green).  They also did other history shows about the area: Keepers of the Light about the lighthouses in the Apostle Islands, Wild River for the dedication of the St. Croix National Wild River and others. They have moved toward more big name concerts and fewer locally generated shows to stay financially viable.

When local philanthropist Mary Rice of the Anderson Windows fortune offered to help fund a theatre for this new drama company in Bayfield in 1985, Warren Nelson said he wanted a tent instead in the old time Chautauqua tradition.  And it was done.

We were scheduled for six interviews with the executive director, a long time volunteer, a singer and others.  We enjoyed it so much.  People’s stories of their lives and their involvement with the Chautauqua were fascinating.  Bayfield and the surrounding area feel strongly about “our Chautauqua.”  Residents volunteer; they attend shows; they love the artists; they support the Big Top as the jewel of Bayfield.  Bayfield needs the Chautauqua as a unique draw to set it apart from other tourist areas; the Chautauqua needs the local people to volunteer and support it.

 Phil Anich has been singing in the Blue Canvas Orchestra (the Chautauqua house band) almost since the beginning.  He works full-time for the Chautauqua doing the Big Top radio show on Public Radio, putting up the tent and supervising many aspects of the operation.  He played guitar and sang a private concert for our group at the boat bar at Good Thyme restaurant near Washburn.  That night was so special.  He sang about a shipwreck and then said, “As long as we are sinking ships, let’s have the Edmund.”  Susan mentioned that several Washburn and Ashland men were on the Edmund Fitzgerald.  Phil sang a long, haunting rendition of the song.  It sent chills—it’s a local thing here.  Phil can really sing.

We camped for the week at Thompson’s West End Park in Washburn, Wisconsin, a lovely open campground on Lake Superior’s Chequamegon Bay.  There is a great hiking trail along the lake and a not so nice beach and a great biking trail in Ashland..  We are both enamored of Bayfield and the Chautauqua now as never before.  We plan to return soon.  It is a very special place. 

Texas Hill Country in April

April 2010

            We spent Easter with my Mom in Texas and took her along home with us. I have been planning for 10 years to see the bluebonnets in the Texas hill country in April.  It lived up to all expectations.  Mom, Don and I drove the 13 miles of the Willow City Loop—a narrow road through the hills and ranches, complete with cattle guards and a few longhorn cattle.  The bluebonnets were phenomenal—grand sweeps of them.  They smelled wonderful too.  It was one of those peak experiences where coming out I said, “I could die now a happy woman.”

            We also saw San Antonio, the Riverwalk and a five missions bus tour ending, of course, at the Alamo.  A great history tour—we loved learning more about the other missions too, making a more complete picture. 

            We stopped at my cousin Germaine and Roman’s home in the Mark Twain National Forest in Missouri.  Roman took each of us on the ATV around the property through the woods.  A wonderful visit. 

Friends say on the phone, “I’ll bet you can’t wait to get home.”  My answer is a resounding “No.”  Life on the road is invigorating.  Why do we want to go back to so much house compared to the camper, all that yard work, all those meetings and obligations?  Of course a cruise around the lake on the pontoon boat and lunch on the deck amid the oaks reminds us of why we love our little house on the lake in the forest.

Habitat for Humanity in Galliano, Louisiana

March 2010

We have settled in a Habitat for Humanity construction site driveway in Galliano an hour southwest of New Orleans, deep in the bayous amid the canals and shrimp boats. We are building porches, stairs and railings. Never know when you might need that skill.

Grand Isle is the town and Louisiana state park at the end of Bayou Lafourche, the river/bayou/canal that is main street for the towns along the 50 miles from Thibodaux to near the Gulf.  It was fascinating to drive along the bayou.  There are no cross roads across southern Louisiana.  Roads follow the biggest bayous and are crossed by roads that go out a couple miles only.  Then it becomes too marshy, more water than land.  The bayou is lined with shrimp boats, fishing boats, and tugboats.  This does not appear to be a prosperous area; houses are not big and not always kept up well.  Near the Gulf it is apparent that this is a big port.  Oil platforms are visible out in the Gulf. 

We walked the beach at the state park and saw LSU students planting shore plants to stabilize the shore—expenses paid by Shell Oil.  The brown pelicans congregate near the beach as they fish.  All the houses near the Gulf are built on pilings 12 to 15 feet off the ground.  Threat of hurricanes is part of life.

The people here in the bayou towns are down-to-earth and friendly.  On our walk last night, we met Ernie on the street behind the Habitat development.  After ten minutes of small talk, he gave us a package of local redfish he had caught and advice on how to cook it.  It was delicious.  He and others think the modest Habitat homes we are building are “so nice.  Those are great houses, really nice.”  We have met several of the new homeowners, eager to move in to these houses.

The porch, steps and railings we have been working on have been difficult—mistakes, twisted wood, ripping out, redoing.  Don says it needs an exorcism.  We finally finished it and started on the second one.  Michael, an Americorps worker, is directing us.

On most of the builds we have worked, the supervisors drive trucks donated by Nissan.  Today a neighbor living in a completed Habitat house told us that Shell Oil had contributed funds and volunteer hours to his house.  It is so nice to see companies donated to help people obtain decent, affordable housing.

Four new RV’s came in over the weekend—Care-a-vanner neighbors.  Hooray.  They are all interesting people, very friendly and fun—three couples on their first Habitat build, and one guy, Hank, who also is on his 5^th build.  Two of the guys, Eric and Larry retired from careers in construction, so they are really good.  They finished their porch and steps on the next house before we finished ours. 

Here we relax after work after hitting the drive-through daiquiri stand.  It is legal as long as the driver’s straw still has its paper cover on it.  Life in the Bayous has been an experience—Cajun food, shrimp, plantation tours, bayou boat ride, warm friendly people.

PS added later:  The BP oil rig explosion in spring after we left tore our hearts.  The people in the bayous are shrimpers, fishermen, oil rig workers, dock workers.  All this is imperiled for people who haven’t much money to start with. May God be with them.

Wekiwa Springs, Florida, Winter 2010

As we pulled the camper into Wekiwa Springs State Park just north of Orlando, we said, “Now we are coming home.”  We love this park—the sand-hill long-needle pines, palmetto and wetlands; the bear, deer and turkeys; the river with its turtles, alligators and egrets; and of course, the springs to swim in and just gaze at.  We love to hike the trails and ride the tandem bike around.  Living here on the edge of 40,000 some acres of wilderness makes dealing with the city of Orlando bearable.

We are one of three host couples for 60 campsites.  This is our third year; Dan and Sue are back for their second year, and Norm and Sandy are hosting for the seventh year.   Hosts have to put in 20 hours a week for the free campsite, so 10 hours each.  We keep the place neat, rake campsites and clean fire-pits and talk with campers.  That part is outdoor fun and exercise.  The other part, cleaning the bathrooms, is not so much fun, but hey, you pull on the rubber gloves and just do it. 
 

We babysit three afternoons a week normally and have a ball with the grandsons.  We do need to double-team them, though.  Gramps and I love spending time with the boys and being part of their lives.  Levi at 6 months is smiling all the time now.  I love to just hold and cuddle him.  Basil at 2 ½ is the joy of our lives; he is so much fun to play with. 

Florida had record cold this year.  It froze a week and a half straight, down to 22 degrees a couple times.  Back home in Wisconsin that would be warm, but here it caused a lot of damage.  Crops suffered, plants were killed, and manatees and coral died in the colder water.

February continues cold.  Don says he is going to stop at the tourism department on the way out of Florida and ask for our money back.

Wekiwa Springs campground will be closed next winter to put in mandated sewers for water quality. So we are out of a winter home and job.  Our son-in-law said there must be other campgrounds that need hosts.  I said, “Yes, and some of those might be in Arizona.”  Their jaws dropped.  We will take advantage of this to go west once and see the canyons and desert. 

The Wekiwa Paintout invites landscape painters to stay for a week in the park and paint.  Then they have a nature and art fest.  I would love to buy a painting of the springs or Lake Prevatt, but the prices are a bit beyond us.  We also volunteered at the annual 5K trail run in the park.

Orlando has wonderful paved bike trails, many miles of them and plans to build more and connect them all.  We truck the tandem bike around to the various trails and ride.  It seems strange to finish up camp hosting knowing that it will be two years before we are back to Wekiwa Springs.  We do love this park.

 

Musicians’ Village, New Orleans

January 2008
We drove to New Orleans for two weeks to work with Habitat for Humanity in the Ninth Ward doing our third year of hurricane rebuilding.  New Orleans and the Gulf Coast are finally getting somewhere, but it will still take years to rebuild.  While there we found ourselves filmed for an episode of This Old House.  Interesting how many takes are needed for a spontaneous appearing show.  In a landscaping scene, Don shoveled dirt off a pick-up truck so many times that he had to shovel it back on in order to shovel it off again.
The Musicians’ Village was started by Branford Marsalis and Harry Connick Jr to help bring the music back to N’Awlins. Too many of those who played in establishments around the city left when Katrina blew in. Until now, many had no hope of a decent home to live in if they came back. 

Located in the upper ninth ward, Musicians’ Village will have about 70 houses, 90% of them owned by musicians, clustered around a central green-space and the Ellis Marsalis Center for Music, a building with practice space, opportunities for music lessons, a recording studio, and a performance area. The houses are typical Habitat for Humanity homes—modest three bedroom, one bath homes, with a full front porch, tool shed out back, and no garage. They are lined up for several blocks with varying front roof lines; some are L-shaped instead of the usual straight back rectangle. The striking differences come with the colors—striking contrasts or subdued and coordinating, but all different colors. The Hardi-plank siding and wood trim are paintable, and paint them they do.  Brick red with pink trim, shades of blue or green, salmon with white trim, bright purple with lavender or gray trim. Musicians are sometimes said to hear in colors; their artistic souls certainly show expression here.
        
It is heart-breaking to see how many homes are still a wreck with the owners having no money to restore them. In the blocks surrounding the new houses in Musicians Village, many houses are still boarded up. Some have campers or FEMA trailers parked in front while the owners try little by little to fix up their ruined homes. Businesses in the poor areas are not all reopened either. People have to drive to the wealthier parts of town to buy groceries, because the local supermarkets are still closed. But everywhere people are working—cleaning out, tearing down, rebuilding.  It will still take years. Habitat for Humanity NOLA plans to build hundreds of houses in the next few years —this from an affiliate that built only a few homes a year before Katrina. 

Habitat for Humanity in Mississippi

             The South is not recovering very much yet from Hurricane Katrina.  Don and I spent our two weeks this year with Habitat for Humanity in Gautier, Mississippi.  We drove along the coast just to see what kind of progress had been made since last year when we worked with Habitat in Slidell, Louisiana.  The answer is very little.  I could have taken the same pictures I took last year.  The most noticeable change is all the “For Sale” signs.  The Gulf coast is mile after mile after mile of houses blown apart or washed away, toppled trees, ands signs marking where restaurants or other businesses used to be.  This is one of the poorest parts of the country, and thousands of people lost what little they had.  It will take years to rebuild, partly because it truly was the worst natural disaster this country has ever known, partly because the South does not have the infra-structure and resources that many other parts of the country have.  People have been living for over a year in FEMA trailers.  Many people who had homes do not have money to repair them because their jobs have also been blown away.
          
This was in Biloxi at the volunteer center in an old stadium.  The red line on the sign way above our heads was the Katrina high water mark in the middle of the city of Biloxi. 
         Our campsite was behind a storefront church called the Refuge.  There was just wilderness behind us and concrete around us, but the church put in full hook-ups for volunteers.  We met Monty and Susan who quit their jobs in Indiana when they felt a call from God to work with Convoy of Hope doing hurricane relief work.  They muck out and repair homes of hurricane victims.  They have lived in a borrowed 24 foot travel trailer since February.  What dedication!  It was just them and us back there—kind of disappointing not to have more neighbors. 

            Monty arranged for us to go to a New Year’s party at noon at Billy Joe’s houseboat on the Pascagoula River.  There is a Teen Challenge group home in Pascagoula down the coast for girls and women in drug/alcohol rehab.  Billy Joe puts on parties for them and whoever else who wants to come every holiday except Christmas when the women go home.  The New Year’s dinner had fresh catfish, barbecued chicken, wild boar that he recently shot, hush puppies, black-eyed peas, fabulous cornbread, and about eight desserts that people brought.  The wild boar (which they announced as pork) was darker and a bit tougher than pork, but otherwise similar, not too strong-flavored.  It was served with barbecue sauce, so the flavor was not clear to me.  Billy Joe is a genuine old Mississippi bayou man.  He lives on the houseboat about half the time and spends his days hunting and fishing the bayous for catfish.  When he has a freezer full, he puts on a fish fry as a fund raiser for Teen Challenge.  The houseboat is about 70 feet long and homemade.  It has a big covered porch with beat-up furniture and loads of trophy horns and heads and mounted fish and alligators and goofy signs.  There are pictures and clippings on the walls and clutter everywhere, but it is the kind of people and place that welcome everyone.
   
            Don and I worked on one of seven houses Habitat is building in Gautier.  We did vinyl siding most of the time, as we did last year.  For two teachers with no professional construction training, we are getting pretty good at vinyl.  At least we didn’t have to take pieces down and redo them like we did last year.  Now instead of detailed instructions for each new application, the supervisor would say, “Don and Jean, go put J channel and soffit material under the porch ceiling,” and we actually knew what to do.  We also insulated the walls (nasty stuff—insulation) and roofed the tool shed.  Habitat does not build garages, just a basic house and small, wooden tool shed anchored into the ground in case of another hurricane.  Don’s New Year’s resolution was to not drop a two-by-four on my head like last year, and I am happy to report that he kept it.  No black eyes this time.
  
            We met some great people again.  Our site supervisor, a woman named Kim, and our construction boss, a young guy Bryce, both are in AmeriCorps—like the Peace Corps but in America.  Both gave up their former lives for at least a year to work on Katrina rebuilding for very little pay and rooms in the volunteer dormitories in Biloxi.  Retirees have parked their RV’s there for months to work.  It makes a person humble to volunteer only two weeks.
            We are back now in the frozen north and back to the stress of a new semester starting at Concordia.  After I retire in May, we hope to do more Habitat builds.  It just makes so much sense to us—help poor people one at a time to improve their lives with (as our construction supervisor last year said every day after the morning devotions) “a hand up, not a handout.”