Simple Joy

My prior post noted how each of our camping trips has its own unique experience. In some cases, however, there are many similarities; after all the environment helps inform and direct our choices and hence our experiences. Beyond the bites, bugs and bellow of this past camping trip there were small joys to be gained in simplicity of the experience. The ever increasing size (and number) of camper trailers and more and more ever present generator sound—we are a society of energy use—cannot inhibit all of the experience of camping. The noise of the generator may have some negative effect, but one can also find a “silver lining” in a less the changing camping experience, as I pointed out in a post last year.

Bull Falls, near Hwy 70

Yes, our experience was similar to last year in that we took a kayak, were camped in the same campground, although not on a lakefront site. Limited in hiking due to bugs and flooding, our experiences turned mainly to water. We kayaked on both Laura and Gordon lakes. Laura lake I hauled the kayak through a vacant site across from our site (but one that would become occupied on Friday). My wife even enjoyed kayaking Laura Lake, and found a loon diving for its lunch. Upon her return I found the same loon, but soon found it a fool’s errand to attempt to find a loon and predict where it once again will raise above the surface. Unlike last year, this year in the kayak excursion on the lake no eagles were seen while kayaking, although I think one flew over my head while swimming. Being a smaller lake, and with no development on its shore but for a boat landing and small swim beach, Gordon Lake has the opportunity to provide a great setting that can possess the ability to reduce blood pressure and stress. Upon leaving the small cove containing the boat landing much to my surprise I found the beach now deserted, even though a few minutes earlier two groups had just arrived as we left to get the kayak. The clear sky left but the reflection of the trees to reflect, and the sun while sufficiently low in the horizon to make it difficult to see was still too high to discern a glimmer off the calm glass smooth surface. But for two loons I found myself alone on the water. The sound of the kayak slipping though the calm water the only constant discernible noise. Yes, the loons and the birds would provide some interruption  to the soft sound of the glide, but it is not like I was hearing the common day sounds which accompany life in a campground, much less a generator.

Deer on the roadside

The water of Gordon Lake would also allow a sunset experience on two consecutive evenings. First, on Friday evening we went to the lake to watch the sunset, and stayed to see the light of the day move to twilight as the sun migrated ever lower in the horizon until it was below the line of evergreen trees on the opposite shore, and twilight was about to turn to darkness. The next evening, Saturday, after an evening thunderstorm quickly moved through the area we again went to the lake.  With twilight already underway we would catch a deep red line in the sky mimicking the following edge of the thunderstorm. What is it about a sunset or sunrise that seems to make the throes or stresses of life seem not as consequential as they had or will be the following morning?

Sunset over Gordon Lake

If one could sleep through bellowing of the bullfrog, you would be awakened, perhaps not so happily near dawn by the sounds of the loon and the singing of the birds.  Although those sounds are much more appreciated to my having awakened this morning by sirens, a noise seemingly becoming too familiar within the suburban landscape of McFarland.  What camping can do, even if it entails effort, is to relax the mind, body and soul.  You can find joy in simple things often unheralded in the busy connected world of today.  As I type this two instances of the need to respect, recognize, and reflect on the simple joys of life come to mind.  First, I recently came across an article on a person I once met, who is doing an independent study master's course in East Africa where he is living among adults and children in the Mathare slum. This slum, one of the largest in the world, he found children digging in the garbage to supply  much of the subsistence. Yet even with this high level of deprivation found, Dan Morgan, OSB provided the following quote on this experience:  "Perhaps one of the most striking differences I noticed about myself and about this experience was how joy, true joy, was in such abundance. Luxuries of the material world were scarce, but joy was abundant."  Second, was the death of a man I only had the opportunity to meet a few times.  He was "the darling man" of a woman I know well.  When I first heard of his unexpected death my first thought was about the fleeting, and yes fragile, nature of life. We never know what the next day will hold. 

Sunset following a thunderstorm

For me, camping allows me to better appreciate some of these simple joys, even with the noise of generators.  We do not need extravagant devices, or machines to find joy in life. Dan Morgan found true joy in an African slum.  It is found in a trusted partner, just as my female friend found, although she will longer feel his touch, but through memory and recollection. It can also be found in other respects.  It can be found kayaking on, but for me, a deserted northern Wisconsin lake as the water craft effortlessly glides through the sheen surface of the water. It can be found listening to a loon in the minutes before sunrise.  It can also be found on the shores of Gordon lake, as my trusted partner and I watched the sun go below the horizon and turn day into dark.  

Lon taking flight on Gordon Lake

Bites, Bugs and Bellowing

This past week my spouse and I returned from a five night camping trip to Laura Lake. We have camped at this destination more than any other. Arriving late morning on a Wednesday, I thought for sure we would find a non-claimed lake site, but that was not meant to be. Just two weeks earlier few of the reserve-able sites had been claimed, so I thought oh, no problem.  In talking with the Ranger on Thursday, he said most reservations so far this year were made Friday and Saturday for the following week. You have to reserve a site at least four days before you first reserved date.  He thinks people wait to see the long-range forecast.

Upon our first visit to Laura Lake fifteen years ago this
bench was probably about 25' from the water edge.

I think most campers come from the Fox River valley area of Wisconsin and hence are closer than those of us from the Madison area. Last year we were at the campground during the same week in July (although arrived Thursday) and the loop we were on filled up quickly on Sunday as persons vacated a site, but this past Sunday nary a camper moved in to that loop. Obviously no pattern emerges as to when good non reserve-able sites can be claimed.   Fortunate to find a nice non-lake site that had few neighbors, the unique adventure of each camping trip started to become obvious. The state of Wisconsin has received significant rainfall this spring and summer, and this is also true of that campground. If I thought the water was high last year, it was even higher this year, and our favorite lake site, at which we have camped a few times, had significant ponding to each side of the site. Mosquito breading havens abounded.

Long pants do not necessarily deter mosquitoes

Of course, standing water was not just present at that site, but was common throughout the campground. The lake trail had so much flooding and backwaters created by an overflowing lake that has no  discernible inlet or outlet.   Two major detours on the lake trail were required, one almost taking you into a campsite. Past trips had very few problems with bugs, other than some black flies, but this trip had a great many mosquitoes. Even during mid-day as we set camp up during the noon hour, and in sun, they were a bother. My unfortunate wife had the bugs bite her through socks and pants. Bundled up in long pants and sweatshirt to keep the bugs off, one would think the temperature was in the 50's. After a hike on the lake trail her legs looked like she had climbed through a large patch of poison ivy. 

Marker on the Lake Trail

The trend in wearing low ankle (or no ankle) height socks must have been created by an urbanite in a dry non-mosquito climate. After all the naked ankles are vulnerable to mosquito bites.  You can more easily slap a mosquito away from your arm, neck, or calf than the ankle. It has been a several years since my spouse and kids got me away from my white ankle socks, but after this trip, I feel like they should be a mainstay in the camping wardrobe.  As many may know, I take pride in being a trend setter, by being so far behind the times, I am the precursor to the next fashion trend.   Styles repeat themselves, except for perhaps leisure suits and Nehru jackets, but wearing socks above the ankle will come back in style in some time in the future.  Bug bites on an ankle are annoying and low socks and mosquitoes are not a good combination.  

While bug bites are annoying, so too is the buzzing of the mosquito and fly by the head and ears.  A slap seemingly doing little to rid oneself of the insipid sound of a mosquito producing a noise well above the size of their stature.  Yet, even worse was the bull frog.  Starting its bellowing in a low drone at dusk and continuing to dawn, the adept amphibian, located in a backwater of the lake seemingly only took about four seconds between its noise making on our first night.  Three thoughts crossed my mind.  First, was the sound reminded me of a woman smoker at the beach that day and made me wonder who had the more annoying voice.  Knowing that in the animal kingdom shows are put on to attract mates or partners, the second thought appeared as a plea: "will another bull frog please come and have sex with this bellowerer so it will stop making its noise."  Alas, that was not to be the case, since the bellowing continued until daylight began to appear about 5 am, and the bull frog would then have to compete with the more melodious sounds of the birds, and the occasional loon.  The third thought was of the T-Mobile commercial where the camping millennials play city noise so they are able to fall asleep in their tent.  

Watch your head!

The bellowing continued, but by the third night the amphibian had become hoarse, and its bellowing grew increasingly intermittent.  Perhaps being sexually satisfied by Sunday night,  but more likely having lost its voice, few belches were heard on our last night. Having been kept up all night Wednesday due to its persistent peal two tired campers got up early Thursday to begin the next day, to be beset by bugs in the wilderness of the Laura Lake hiking trail. What was worse, the bug bites or the bellow of the bull frog, I will let the reader come to their own conclusion.

Shake and Smirk

The use of head shake or of a head nod is a common cross-cultural expression of human behavior. People use a movement of their head in various ways—to express a feeling, emphasize a point, express approval (nod) or disapproval (shake). Movement of the eyes, or an expression of the mouth can certainly add to the meaning and intent of a head shake. Together these expressions can provide a definition of tone and connotation that goes well beyond the capability of words.

In an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” Ray Barone, a sportswriter in New York, approaches another sports commentator after hearing that the commentator thought he (Ray) was a poor writer. The person turns to Ray and gives a rather innocuous response, but as the person turns around he rolls his eyes. Ray catches this eye movement and confronts the person again about his true feelings, saying that he saw the eye roll and he certainly knows what it means because he gets it from his wife all the time. I know well what Raymond means, but in my case, I don’t get an eye roll, but a head shake accompanied by a smirk. When I see, or sense the shake and smirk, being as I am about as quick as Ray Barone, I know what it means, and the giver (my wife) is displeased by what I had just done, or what just happened.

Of all the different groups and types of people on earth, I think that two groups stand out in the use of expressions: a spouse and a mother. Often times they are one and the same, but not always. These women may have different expressions for their spouse or their child, but the expressions to either group usually mean much the same. Perhaps it is a trait like a mom who has eyes in the back of the head. My wife, in my opinion, has taken the shake and smirk to a whole new level. Perhaps it is from so many years of marriage, but I can sense the shake and smirk even with my back turned. I can view or sense her red hair slightly moving as she provides a slight head shake to one side than the other side. It is never more than this simple movement, at least for each "excursion" from her defined norms. But, the head shake is accompanied by her little smirk with the sides of a closed mouth slightly lifted, letting me know she has some displeasure in what occurred, but it is almost like she takes some amusement in the event too. This past weekend, I was the recipient of a few head shakes. First, when I got back down from the roof to trim tree branches only a couple days after she relayed the story her Mom told her about a man, about my age, who had fallen off a roof. The second was when pulling out a box on a shelf containing a grease gun (to grease the mower) and an item on the top shelf fell on my head (yes, it hurt, and I had a nice bump). And, I think there was a third that I cannot recall. I get a variation of the shake and smirk when she sees me with chocolate chips and peanut butter on a piece of sweet bread. What is her tolerance for a head shake--according to her more than one head shake a weekend is one too many.

The shake and smirk are I suppose meant to be a teaching moment, but as careful as one can be, things still happen. Concerned with my well being, she commented after the item fell on my head that "well, it is a successful weekend--we don't need a trip to urgent care." A rather low bar for a level of success. I don't know if I should be pleased at that or find it rather discouraging. She must think I am the family version of Tim the tool man, who was well known by the nurses and doctors on the long running television show. In the end, I think a member of un-contacted group in South America, or New Guinea could come and watch her expression and head shake and know that it is not meant as a good thing. Expressions and body movements tell much more of a story than these poor words can convey.

Weighted Down

Most of us have probably had papers fall off a desk or table when a person walked by, or grabbed something else. You are then left to pick them up and put them back to the correct order. Before the advent of air conditioning in a time when windows were left open papers blowing off a desk may not have been a not so infrequent occurrence. That led to use of paperweights, which led of course to stylish and varied designs (high end designs began with the French in the mid-1800's), most made of glass. Glass is a top choice since it can be clear, or colored, is malleable at high temperatures, provides a great deal of weight for little mass, and intricate designs can be placed inside, but yet be visible. Last week I had the opportunity to visit the Bergstrom-Mahler Glass museum in Neenah, WI. This museum specializes in paper weights and central European drinking glasses.

German Glass

Germans, Bohemians, and others in Central Europe like beer, and the Mahler glass stein, and drinking glass collection comprises most of the side of the drinking glass portion of the collection. While working for a paper company, the chemical engineer Mahler invented the nose tissue. But, most of the museum is dedicated to paper weights, with those of Mrs. Bergstrom (lumber) scattered throughout the rooms. Mrs. Mahler started collecting paperweights in her early 60’s when she came across a paperweight in a Florida store that was like the one her grandmother once possessed. After her piano lessons, her grandmother would let her admire the paperweight. Mrs. Bergstrom and her husband had no children so their home and paperweight collection was the start of the museum. A rarity in the world of art, it has no admission price, although a donation is requested.

Paperweight

When I think of a paperweight, the scene in a movie I saw within the last year comes to mind. A women goes to complete work on her master thesis at her Aunt or mother’s house, and leaves the window open. As she leaves the room a strong cross breeze scatters the paper out the window, which of course being television had no screen, and the papers scatter in and throughout the garden and neighbor yards. She really needed a paper weight. Or, it makes me think of work. I have to view many plans, and over 33 years of experience has shown that engineers tend to roll their plans with the printed side in, but that makes them, when spread out, hard to hold down as the ends want to curl up. Thus, I end up using books to hold the edges down. Architects on the other hand roll their plans with printed side out, which makes a bulge in the middle, but much easier to handle and you can simply hold down the bulge as you work through the plan.

Another paperweight

While we all know why paperweights were needed, but they are going the way of the floppy disc, Beta, VHS, DVD, and human workers as computers (and robots) continue to cause changes in the workplace. After all, you don’t need to weigh down a computer screen. Computer screens may need height adjustment, and a co-worker found that old Institute of Transportation Engineer Trip Generation Manuals come in handy to help raise a screen. Most everything becomes obsolete and is destined to a museum. Think of the Ringling Brothers Circus which is now but recalled through the Circus World Museum in Baraboo. I never really thought there would be a museum dedicated to pretty much paperweights, so it was a surprise and turned out to be a rather pleasant experience.

Can you guess what this is?

An article on Wikipedia, if one can trust the source, says that the two biggest paperweight holdings in the nation are at the Chicago Art Institute (which I verified through a news article when the Institute took hold of a few hundred more paperweights) and the Bergstrom-Mahler Museum, which self-claims to be the largest. I can understand Chicago having a large paperweight collection, after all it is the “Windy City”. That moniker does not come from nature produced wind, but from that wind produced by its residents, particularly politicians. One only needs to look at the coming junk bond status of the state of Illinois to know that windy does not always mean competent (or with the exception of last year, look at the Cubs). Neenah, on the other hand, has a collection started simply because of Mrs. Bergstrom’s nostalgia following piano lessons from her grandmother. In elementary school when asked what causes stress in his life, my youngest child responded: piano lessons. Ironically, it was those lessons that have now led to his liking to play this instrument.

Notice the recreated bug

It is odd how somethings in life turn out. My youngest child not liking piano lessons, but those lessons have provided a love of the instrument. One may never know what the future holds, and sometimes hard work and effort will pay off. My wife yearns for the times when she can hear her son play the piano, as it means he is home. Mrs. Bergstrom's nostalgia started a paperweight collection. One small item led to one of the largest collections of paperweights in the nation, if not the world. While the purpose of a paperweight is to hold down papers, the main point of the post is to not get weighted down. The difficulties in one part of life may provide benefit later.

Photos by the author taken at the Bergstrom-Mahler Museum in Neenah, WI on 30 June 2017.