Sole

Years ago I visited a company in Madison, right next to Fitchburg, owned by a person who was the then Parks Commission Chair for Fitchburg.  Being in that position he also sat on the Fitchburg Plan Commission, and hence the reason for the visit.  One invention of his Company, Bjorksten Research Laboratories, was a machine that mimicked the human foot movement.  I recall that it was funded in part by the US Army so boots and soles of prospective army footwear providers could be tested.  It would be a neat machine to use to test varied footwear, particularly to see the effect of pavement on the sole of a shoe.

Rock Formation near Enee Point

Over the past several years, since coming down with planter fasciitis, I have become more aware of the state of my footwear.  I used to wear my shoes well beyond their point of providing support. This may have been the factor, and if not the factor a contributing factor to developing planter fasciitis. What I learned is that not all shoes are made equal, and not all name brand shoes.  For example, a New Balance tennis shoe at Kohl's is not the same as a more expensive, though different, New Balance shoe, at Morgan's Shoes.  In particular, I pay attention to the outer sole. I walk a good deal.  When I worked I walked about two miles at lunch and when home, I walk a 2.7 mile route.  I do that 2.7 mile route to this day. The route is all pavement, and it well wears my shoes and in particular, the soles.    

Meadow Trail on a foggy Monday Morning

I had a pair of tennis shoes at work and a pair at home.  My shoes at home were also my daily wear footwear. My kids would shake their head at my white tennis shoes, but to me it was function over form. They get their head shaking from their mother. She is particularly fond of shaking her head at somebody.  Since I developed fasciitis in 2013-2014, the tennis shoes I bought, after recommendation at Morgan Shoes, came in two colors, white and brown.  I wore white at home and brown for walking at work.  I pushed to get just under a year of my home pair, and a little more than a year out of the work pair. Perhaps I pushed more than I should have.  

Meadow Trail

I got a Fitbit for Valentine's Day in 2019, and due to that device I perhaps walk even more.  For example, my walk, which I try to do in the morning, will gain me about 5,200 steps.  Sometimes less, sometimes more.  If by early or mid afternoon, I find my self well short of the 10,000 step goal, I will do about a second walk of just over a mile, or, depending on steps required, I extend by another seven tenths of a mile. This is accomplished to get to that magical non-medical derived 10,000 number. This is where the issue of the sole comes in.

View of one part of Cox Hollow Lake

In 2019, while working at a garden center, I found myself putting in a lot of steps, one day I had over 20,000 from working there, and my feet were hurting.  At that point, on the advice of the wife, I switched to wearing my hiking shoes.  Over the summer, I felt the feet get better, but the shoes started to wear.  I wore two different pair during that course of time, one which I had new heels put a year or so prior.  The other pair I wore until about mid April of 2020 when I threw them out.  Structurally they had broken down in more places than the sole.  The pair that had new heels put on I still have as a back up pair, but they are nearing the end of their heel sole extended life.  

Lost Creek Trail

When at REI last winter I bought a new pair of hiking shoes in anticipation of the other pair wearing out.  I started wearing that pair in mid April.  As I wore the shoes through the summer I could see wear on the sole, and by early August, the outer sole on the left shoe was worn through.  My left shoe heel always wears faster than my right shoe heel.  The thing is, hiking shoes have much better support than typical shoes (and the New Balance Tennis shoes), particularly the Oboz pair I bought last winter, but hiking shoes tend to have "softer"soles which are prone to wear.  As a guy at Oboz told me, the sole is not meant for wear on hard surfaces.  This I knew from my other pairs, although it seemed to me I should get more than four months of wear, regardless of surface.  That made me wonder how long a pair of shoes should last.

Part of Twin Valley Lake, viewed from Cave Trail

I was talking to neighbor, who runs, and she said one can expect a pair of running shoes to last about 400 miles. I did an internet search and found 300 to 500 miles, so her comment was right at the midpoint (per a health website).  I then wondered what about walking shoes, and I found higher variability.  One site said, they should be replaced every six to nine months, or about 1000 to 1500 miles.  Another site said, if you walk about three to four hours a week, expect to replace your walking shoes every three to six months, or by 500 miles.  I walk daily for a minimum of 50 minutes, so that alone is 5.8 hours a week.  Add to this that I wore them for most all other daily activity.  In other words, they go in the morning, and would come off at night. What I learned at Morgan's is that by the time most shoes show significant wear, the structural damage is already well in place.  Sole Science, another website, says that for most people shoes should be replaced every eight to twelve months, but they give no wear, other than to say replace running shoes at 500 to 700 km (310 to 434 miles).  Now, that is for athletic shoes, what about hiking shoes?  I found a similar mileage applies for hiking shoes, particularly those of lighter weight construction (300 to 500 miles), or 600 to 700 miles for a pair of hiking boots. I am quite sure, my hiking shoes would last longer if most of my steps had not been on a hard surface.  That then led to a question, how many miles did I put on my Oboz hiking shoes from mid April to the end of August?

Cave on Cave Trail

With the Fitbit I can easily access some data.  I started on April 26, due to a lost Fitbit, I have no record of the steps the prior week.  I ended on 9/1 which is the last date I wore the hiking Oboz (Firebrand II) I bought last winter for daily wear. What I found was I walked 1,917,449 steps from April 26 to Sept 1.  I know Fitbit calculates mileage, but it is wrong, since, it says my walk route is 2.3 miles, but when measured by Google Maps, and DCI map I get 2.69 to 2.73 miles, so I used 2.7 miles.  I know from the Fitbit that my route gives me about 5,100 to 5,300 steps a day, and so I will use 5,200.  Using 5200 steps for 2.7 miles, I get about 1,925 steps per mile. That works out to 996 miles!  Now, because I wear some other shoes, such as steel toed shoes when mowing and doing some yard work, or slippers when I am in the house at night, I reduced the total steps by 20% and 30%, which would provide 796 or 697 miles, respectively.  Given that, the Oboz Firebrand lasted about what a pair of hiking boots should last in terms of mileage is up to about 700 miles.  I guess this is good news, but still, to wear out a pair of footwear in four months seems pretty quick.  Of course, some of those steps were actually used for hiking, but that amount of miles is minimal compared to my total. If I wore them completely on a "softer" trail surface, I doubt the soles would have worn as much.  Trail walking, according to Oboz, also does not provide the consistent wear spots as what occurs from flat pavement.  

Rock Formation, Cave Trail

For just over four months, I walked a total of almost 1,000 miles, but I also noticed that for a period from Jan 1 to April 19, or three and a half months, I walked 710 miles.  Hence, I am pretty active all year around.  This year in particular since we started snow shoeing and that amount would add to my daily walk total, in some cases.  

Waterfall, outlet of Cox Hollow Lake

The conclusion is that I walked a good deal more wear out of my Oboz hiking shoes than I had thought.  I also found out that while I noticed a good deal of wear on the soles of my hiking shoes, the overall wear appears to be within range of expected life span of the footwear.  It sure would be nice to have that Bjorksten boot tester, and open a business to test footwear longevity and steps.  Just put a Fitbit on the boot tester and one could get its steps.  Whatever the case may be, shoes wear at different rates, and it depends not just on the materials but where you walk.  Pay attention to your soles: both on your foot and on your footwear.

Tuesday Evening Sunset

Photos from Gov Dodge State Park, Sept. 13-17, 2020

Paint

Paint.  It is usually a product that is placed on walls, furniture, cabinets and molding to preserve, provide color, or protect wood, metal, or another material.  However, Paint is also the name of Jack Bartlett's horse in the Netflix show "Heartland."  Jack is one of the main protagonists in the show, which is produced in Canada.  The show revolves around him and his granddaughters Amy and Lou (Louise). Jack's daughter died in a car crash rescuing a horse in the first episode, and Jack's wife has long been deceased. Jack, with his daughter raised the two girls as the Dad was mostly out of the picture at that time of their lives.  The show revolves around people and horses, or it may be horses and people. You can usually tell the theme of a show by the situation with one of the horses or other characters introduced. In his last days on the rodeo circuit Jack got a new horse and named him Paint.  Upon winning the horse at the rodeo, the announcer had a grand-old time picking on Jack for giving his new horse the rather pedestrian name of Paint.

Jack ran a cattle ranch on the family homestead and his daughter was a horse whisperer who took it upon herself to help distressed, or abandoned horses.  Paint was Jack's faithful companion.  In the television show, Jack must at least be in his mid-70's, but the actor who plays Jack is about my age.  Jack had been out with his former son-in-law, Tim (who in the show is now back in the picture after his wife died), rounding up the herd of cattle they share.  On the way back to the barn Jack and Paint are moving rather slowly.  Tim picks on Jack for being too old, but when they get back to the barn, Jack says Paint was moving slow, not him.  They look at Paint and call in Amy's boyfriend, Ty, a vet student, who indicates that Paint's osteo-arthritis in one of his front legs is getting worse.  He says the joint is large and warm.  

As I was watching that episode I instinctively reached down to feel my left knee, which one can tell by simply looking at my two knees is larger than the right.  As I felt it, I noticed that it was warmer than the right one, too.  My wife, I think, thought I was imagining things, so I went over to her and she said well, it is slightly warmer.  She emphasized the term slightly. Here I am not unlike Paint, I move a little slower, ache more, and just not quite as energetic as I used to be.  Although there are some who think of me as being about as exciting as watching paint dry. 

Paint, the horse was reluctantly put out to pasture and Jack provided an eloquent speech to the horse about how the horse has done his duty and it is time for Paint to relax.  I guess, it is kind of like being retired.  I went self-imposed to the pasture just over two years ago.  

Paint is not long in the pasture when Jack, on his way back home from town sees him laying down, and with Ty's help  gets Paint back up on his legs and they walk him to the barn.  Amy, picking up where her mother left off uses herbs, and essential oils, and other alternative medicines, in addition to a steroid shot Ty gives to Paint.  Paint is doing well, and they decide to keep Paint up and about.  One of  the best things for arthritis is to keep active. They did the same thing with Paint.  Paint rallies.  

This past Saturday a neighbor was repairing parts of his lawn with sod, due to grass kill by dog urine, and his Dad, who is slightly younger than me was over visiting.  I asked his Dad, if he was supervising, and he said well, yes, to make sure the rake does not hit his car.  He then laughs and said he could get down and help, but the hard part is getting back up again.  I know I cannot do up-downs like I did when in middle and high school football practice. Come to think of it, I would be lucky to do one.  Heck, I am not sure if I can run anymore.  Last time I ran was in January, after which my knee hurt for a good month or more.  It has not been the same since. So, I am similar to the neighbors father.

I move slowly, as did Paint, and we both have an arthritic limb. But, unfortunately, Paint's rally did not long last. He goes down a second time, and a group of the Bartlett and Fleming clans were unable to get him up.  Paint was euthanized.  Here, I am still hobbling along on a bad knee.  It may take me longer to do certain things than it used to, but I can still get up.  In that sense I am better off than Paint. I doubt anyone, however, thought of Paint to be less exciting than watching paint dry.

 

Place, People and Covid

Our youngest son was married this past Saturday.  To say things changed due to Covid would an understatement.  Celebration of  marriage by family and friends at a feast is a function that crosses cultural lines.  It has deep roots. In the Roman Empire, for example, there was a celebration with a large feast; Jews celebrated too, as is evidenced by the Gospel account of the wedding feast at Cana.  Those traditions of a marriage celebration have carried on.  Since March, however, such weddings have been subject to cancellation or severe downsizing due to government Covid restrictions.  With Jamie and Joe's wedding, the main issue was not necessarily adjusting to Covid, rather keeping abreast of altered guidance/rules and interpretations.  In Dane County that meant no more than 25 persons for an outdoor wedding.  The couple chose to downsize the wedding to immediate family and the bridal party.  This represented a group of sixteen.  The photographer made 17 persons, and the celebrant, for the hour or so he was present, made 18.  The wedding was held at the place at which I grew up, and therein lies the issue of place. What made the wedding run smoothly is how varied members of each family and the bridal party did their part before, during and after event, in other words, the people.

All photos from Evening of August 28, 2020

Nearing late May things were looking good and the original planned venue and guest size, as the venue, who had been in contact with Public Health, was expecting a go. In early June the county moved to phase 2 of its reopening plan. However, the phase 2 increase to 50%, the protests and riots, and other events caused an uptick in cases by late June and the County moved back to Phase 1 in early July.  That caused a much more stringent level, as previously noted.  This led my son and his fiance to change the venue as it was no longer cost effective to hold a small wedding at that location.  Wanting to retain their vendors, they chose the home at which I grew up in Sun Prairie, about six miles from the original venue location. This meant a great deal of work to get the yard more presentable, and my son, my wife and I spent a great deal of effort doing that work.  Unfortunately, we could not find many flowers to plant since it was so late in the season, but we did find plants to place in pots for added decoration.  

That house and yard had held two wedding receptions before, one for a brother and the other for a sister.  Back then I was younger and could do yard work faster.  This time is was my son, the Land Girl and I who did the prep work of the lawn and house. The thing is, regardless if 17 persons or 170 the amount of work to get the yard in order is pretty much the same. 

The event went smoothly, due in large part to pretty most everyone doing a share of the required tasks.  The attendants, parents, and my daughter-in-law (spouse of my oldest son) all pitched in.  These would be tasks that at a normal venue you would pay to have accomplished.  For example, there was no bartender, and not staff to put out the food, or clean the tables. My oldest son made a brandy old-fashioned for all who attended.  It was my first time in my life, even as a full-fledged Wisconsinite, to have had an old fashion. So, in a sense it was a night of a first for me. Another example, the food was delivered to the backyard and two attendants helped layout the food on the table for persons to grab.  Salads were individually packed and I am still trying to figure out what gave the vinaigrette dressing its yellow color.

Covid changed the course of the wedding.  It affected how chairs and tables were placed.  It affected some interactions.  For example, it was a difficult at times to talk to a person at six feet distant. And it changed the size of the event and its place.  The significant downsizing did not dampen the joy and vibrancy of those present. The event also caused some joy in a little neighbor girl who saw the bride getting ready to walk the aisle framed to the east by grape vines.  

Geographer Yi Fu Tuan, who completed a distinguished career at UW-Madison, once said “What begins as undifferentiated space becomes place as we get to know it better and endow it with value.” In that sense it is the human interactions, the variation of beliefs, and experiences that create value which in turn form memories.  From the myriad methods of interaction space becomes endowed with value.  But, more important is that the values now inherent in place, combined with the experience, form memories. It is photos and memory that will give us a lasting images of the wedding on Aug 29, 2020.  

As the near full moon rose above the verdant evergreen line, the champagne had slowed, the dinner eaten, and the touching speeches completed, I took a few minutes to think of the place at which the event was held, how lives intersect, and how plans can be upended.  I thought of the two past wedding receptions held years back, and how life has changed. I thought of the go-cart riding by certain young boys around the yard, and some who drove over the fallen apples.  They are now young men. And one of them experienced, in a different manner than intended, but a day no less meaningful, one of the highlights of his life.

It has been a challenging several months, and no more so than making adjustments to wedding plans to comply with changing Covid guidance. The memories of the event may perhaps provide more meaning as a challenge provided by a global pandemic was met and dealt with.  Dealing with such challenges shows a measure of the person.  A roller coaster ride has come to an end.  More roller coaster rides will be experienced in the future.  Life and circumstance will pose challenges to their individual life and their marriage.  The young couple, and those around them, can look back at a job well done due to the love, nimbleness and resiliency exhibited in making required adjustments for such an event to take place. Place and people are intertwined, but the values shown are what made the day a success.  Well, that and the fact it did not rain. 

Can It

When a person gets overbearing one rejoinder is "Can it!" I know.  I have heard that, or a variation, rather frequently. However, that brief statement also relates to canning of produce.  As readers of my blog know, back in July I posted that half or more of my tomato plants were Sun-Gold tomatoes, and hence there is a great loss of tomato produce to can.  We started harvesting the Mariana Hybrid tomatoes a couple weeks ago, but the first few weeks the crop is rather thin.  It is in the latter part of August, for our garden anyway, that the tomatoes really start to produce ripe fruit.  We are now entering that time, when we have to Can It.

Canned Produce from August 22

On Saturday, August 22 I went for my early morning walk, which takes about 50 minutes, and I as I completed the walk, at a time when the humidity made it seem warmer than the ambient air temperature, I was expecting a cooler house.  As I entered the door, the hit of heat in the house is what struck me.  Then it was the smell of tomatoes.  My wife was canning tomatoes.  She did not get a full seven quarts, but they were starting to rot, so Land Girl took started to can today.  I was not surprised that she was canning, but in the time it took me to do my walk, about 50 minutes, she had the tomatoes in the jars and in the water bath on the stove to seal the jars.  She was in midst of cleaning up somebody's mess as I entered the kitchen. 

Land Girl did not can only tomatoes that day.  While out for her walk a few days earlier she found some elderberry bushes and picked a decent quantity of the extraordinarily small berry.  She dried them in order to make elderberry tincture, which is supposed to be effective in "symptom reduction and prophylaxis of cold, flu and upper respiratory infections."  It can also assist persons with rheumatic conditions and painful joints. In that sense it should be used by most everyone over the age of 60.  I know of few people over 60 that do not have at least one joint that is painful.

Land Girl noticed that some large elderberry bushes exist on a rental property owned by a neighbor who was out of town.  She waited to get permission to pick until late this week when they arrived home.  That was too late, as the berries had pretty much been picked clean by the birds. If they are ripe, you have about a one day window to get the berry before the birds do.  Not to be dissuaded, we went to some wild village land on which she had found another wild elderberry bush and harvested a good amount from that bush.  Because of all the other vegetation around much of the bush we were only able to get part of one side that was nearest the trail.  It seems that elderberry harvest, and processing, would not make the cut in terms of reward for the effort used.  They are really small berries, they have to be removed from the stems, cleaned, and dried or cooked down.  Land Girl must have decided she had sufficient quantities of dried elderberries, because she cooked these down, ran them though an overly complicated food strainer, which always seems to clog, and then used the juice to make a syrup.  She said the syrup is supposed to be good on pancakes.  

She ended up with four half-pint jars of elderberry syrup, and a fifth jar partially full.  See what I mean by amount of time spent for a reward of four half-pints, and part of a fifth.  It took Wolf Paving less time to place the binder course of asphalt on our street than for her to take the berries off the stem, clean, cook down, run through the overly complicated food strainer, and then cook again to make a syrup and finally can.  Just typing the steps is exhausting, I cannot imagine what it would be like to do them all.  

While canning, my Land Girl made an interesting observation, when she said, why is canning produce always in the warmest part of the year?  I said, Mother Nature must have her reasons.  What I did not say to her, but will write here is that this proves Mother Nature is a woman, because no man would have placed canning time at the hottest time of the year.  (For the increasing number of overly sensitive/threatened/politically correct persons, this is a joke.)

Canning season has begun, although we have already frozen, eggplant, beans, carrots and raspberries.  We now move from primarily freezing season to both freezing and canning, as more eggplant will come, and of course more tomatoes.  Hence Can It will be with us for a few weeks.  

Somebody

Wow, it has been a week or more, and I realized that I may not have had an inspiration for a new post.  But, I received that inspiration on Sunday afternoon.  And, or course, it is thanks, unknowingly to the wife. My wife has this habit of saying things like: "Somebody got the floor dirty!" Or  "Somehow this item ended up in the wrong place." This is a close relation to the phrase, "How did this happen." Of course, instead of specifically referencing me, she leaves it open ended. In a sense, this approach is not unlike many qualities present in the wife app.  There are, at present, two people in the household, and if it was not her, it had to be me.  Hence, I know who she really thinks is at fault. Although she hears noises in the walls at times, so perhaps there is a third creature in the house; but that is another story.

I lost track of how many times just this past week she used such a phrase, but it is fairly common.  I tend to simply ignore the comment.  After all, they are not usually in the form of question. Sunday was a different story, the shoe, to use a well worn phrase, was on the other foot.

Late in the afternoon, I noticed that the level of seed in the finch feeder had been static for the past few days.  This is a clue to me that the feeder needs to be cleaned.  I take the feeder down, and save the good seed.  The bad seed, which is usually sticking together due to having been soggy from a rainfall, generally gathers near the small holes from which the finches and other small birds use to feast on the feed.  I have a routine, where I take the feeder to the big washtub in the basement to clean it out using water, a rag and a long item, such as a really long screwdriver.  I then fill the tub with some water and add a little bit of bleach to the water and let the tube and its disassembled parts soak in the bleach water in order to disinfect the feeder.    

Today, I could not find the bleach.  It is always kept in a second tub, no longer used for washing, with other agents such as a bottles of ammonia and vinegar.  I also store car detergent and a few other things in that tub.  Low and behold, I cannot find the bleach. I thought of using vinegar, but could not get the bottle open, so I simply used hot water.  After setting the items of the feeder in the breeze to dry, I asked my wife if we were out of bleach.  She knew I occasionally use some in our backyard pond to remove algae growth, and I had done that several days earlier.  She asked if I used it up on the pond and forgot to add it to the grocery list.  I said, I would probably remember if I used it up.  So it came, that after dinner, I decided to go downstairs and hunt for the bleach.  I turned the corner to look at the wash machine, and I quickly noticed two bottles, one a gallon size, the other smaller. Right away I knew I located the bleach bottle, so I picked it up, along with the smaller container (distilled vinegar) and put them in the old tub, their rightful spot.  You see everything has a place, and that is where you put the item when you have completed using it.  That way you don't have to go looking for it or, worse, lose it. A misplaced object may cause a slightly impatient person to wonder what happened, in this case to the bleach.  

Coming up the stairs, I said to my spouse, "I found the bleach. Somebody stuck it on the floor by the washer." I could have said you left it by the washer, but I liked the use of "Somebody."  It was not me who stuck it by the washer, she seldom lets me put a load of clothes in the washer, although it is fine for me to hang them on the line or put them in the dryer.  Perhaps she has her own little magic formula she uses to when and how much bleach or distilled vinegar to add to a specific load of laundry. Doing the laundry is how is how the bleach came to be by the washer, and somebody had to put it there.  If it was the Gremlin in the wall, it would mean we have bigger problems.  

&#%!

My spouse and I became disgusted this past week at the language used by some children at Gordon Lake Beach.  This occurred during our week of camping from August 2 to 7. The first incident, probably Tuesday evening, was actually not cuss words, but rather variations seemingly common today, but intended to provoke a similar response.  The second incident was odd, and the last incident is what really was disgusting.  I will relay all three incidents in this blog post.

LaSalle Falls, Florence County

Before a review of the language I first wish to note it must have been a week for family gatherings at the Laura Lake Campgrounds.  A month earlier when we were at the same campground there were mainly couples camping, only a few children.  A campground that possessed only 6 or 7 of 41 campsites occupied on the cold, Autumn like night Sunday night, seemed to indicate that it would be a quiet week.  That changed over the next two nights, when by Wednesday only 6 sites remained unoccupied, one a tent only and the others having been reserved for the weekend.  The language incidents involved two family gatherings at the campground.  I know of a third family gathering, that appeared to be mostly adults. One afternoon I talked to a person from Indiana whose family has been getting together for about 30 years at this campground.  What surprised him, in all his years of coming here, was how full it was on a Tuesday afternoon.  He had an off lake site, but a camper with a non-reservable lake site departed over two hours late, and this guy and his wife were on a walk and noted the open site.  His wife stayed and claimed the site, he canceled and upped the lake site, which was next to a site his sister, who arrived on Thursday, had reserved.  Families gathering to camp together is not new.  My wife grew up camping with her family and the family of one uncle on her mother's side.  

Twelve Foot Falls, Marinette Co

When we go to Gordon Beach we like to go early, as crowds start arriving at about noon, and it can get quite rambunctious, not to mention crowded and we wish to avoid crowds, particularly in this time of pandemic.  High lake levels, have closed other beaches in the area, so this beach has become the go to for locals, and area cabin owners. I can imagine what it must have been like when the Goff-Schleis Clan went to the beach fifty or more years ago, with a bunch of children.  Although, since my wife is a land girl, and not a water girl, was aversion to water formed in her childhood when she fell in the toddler pool? And at a later age at Dells of the Eau Claire in  Wausau.  What is probably true is that the Goff-Schleis children would not have swore such as we heard this week.  And my spouse, was perhaps the best behaved of all the children. She was one of the older children.

Eighteen Foot Falls, Marinette Co

The first incident occurred on cool Tuesday evening when Cameron, Owen and Jonah arrived with their aunt at the beach.  They were camping with their grandparents.  Cameron and Owen were probably about 10-12, maybe 13 and Jonah was perhaps four or five.  They ran in the water, and C and O were happy playing.  Young Jonah was not long in the water and got out shivering. The Aunt, noticing how cold Jonah was told the boys they had five minutes of which they argued and argued and the five turned into 10 and then 15, all the while Jonah is turning blue and the Aunt is pleading for them to be concerned about young Jonah.  Of which, of course, they were not.  I think it was Cameron who, when told Jonah was cold said:  "well have him get in the water."  I loved that comment.  It was that kind of day where the water was warmer than the air temperature.  The problem, as Jonah found out, was how cold it was when getting out of the water.  A strong breeze did not help matters. It perhaps reached 64 degrees that day. Owen in particular liked to use the word "fricken" and he once used the term "bull crap", for which he was quickly chastised by his Aunt.  I think Jonah was probably blue all night, although bundling up in the Aunt's sweatshirt may have helped warm him as they walked back to their campsite.

Eighteen Foot Falls

Thursday was the warmest day of our stay perhaps reaching the upper 60's.  We headed off to the lake in the beach in the morning before we thought it would get crowded.  We were wrong.  Michael and Sam, probably 12 or 13, either cousins or friends, followed by Michael's older sister and her boyfriend, Brandon.  I know Brandon and his sister are about 18, as they responded to Michael, that as "adults we get to decide if we want to go in the water."  To which Michael responded, well you just 18. Before Brandon arrived, Michael was bragging to Sam about how he beat Brandon in a splash fight the day before.  There would be no splash fight that day. The trouble started once Brandon and Michael's sister arrived, and Michael tried to get Brandon in the water.  At one point Michael took the Lord's name in vain, and Sam asked that he not do that.  The friends/cousin relationship degraded from that point and when one wanted a water float device back the other would not give it and that it when Michael used the F word followed by a slew of cuss words, including the F word in retaliation by Sam.  Brandon and the sister tried to get them to stop, but to no avail.  Somehow the mother's of each child showed up. The cussing got so bad, an elderly couple who was out for a walk stopped at the beach and departed for less salty shores.  

Eagle over Gordon Lake

As the mother's arrived, Michael got out of the water and was blaming everything on Sam, although Brandon, with no love lost for his girl friends younger brother, pointed out Michael started the cuss match.  I recall one mother using swear words and thinking the child is not far from the parent.  Sam's mother said to Sam that she wanted him to come out of the water so she could talk about his mouth.  Other than the language used by Sam, I don't think there was anything wrong with his mouth, so I accepted that as a mother's metonymy.  From childhood I am well aware of what the word mouth means when used by a mother.  "Watch your mouth" was, at times, not an uncommon phrase. Sam, at one point, during her pleading, even said he was going to go beyond the rope line in the water, to which the mother said, go ahead.  It is not like there is a precipice when you get to the rope the lake level drops off by ten feet (although this happens at the Eau Galle Dam lake in NW WI). Sam refused to get out, and then she laid down the point of no return when she said, "if you do not get out so we can talk about your mouth, we will just up and go home right now."  Sam said, "OK, we can go home", probably thinking his mother would never resort to such punishment. I am not sure what happened, last I saw Sam on Thursday he was heading back to the beach in his jeans, as I was leaving. Perhaps he left something at the beach.  

Loons on Laura Lake

Last week Thursday was not a pleasant experience at the beach. What was most interesting is that that group would fight among themselves and not pay attention to the loons or the two eagles that were flying overhead.  I am quite sure that the interests of a 12 or 13 year old are not the same as a 62 year old man, but who could not be impressed by the warning call of the loons to the young and how fast they moved as they spotted eagles soaring above the lake and the trees which form its lake shore.  

Pine River downstream of LaSalle Falls

Listening to the common use of such language was disappointing, but young boys also do some interesting things that make for a laugh.  One example was a couple boys, I think they were part of the group with Owen, who rode their bikes to the beach with life jackets on.  Well ahead of the grandma who came to watch them.  They ripped the life jackets off and entered the water.  One then had the bright idea to ride his bike in the water, and sink it.  they then put a life jacket on the bike, but needed both to make is somewhat float.  By this time grandma arrived with others in the family cohort, including Owen.  Michael was at the beach that day too, and it was that day, Wednesday, that I got the first taste of his mouth.  On Wednesday evening, my spouse and I were out for a walk when we got stuck in a sudden downpour.  (It was not supposed to rain, but because we were camping all weather forecasts for rain chances go out the window.)  We got to the end of loop one, and it really started to rain hard, but a restroom was nearby, so we hung out on the outside eave, backs tight to the building.  Michael came running down the road, obvious need of going to the bathroom, and was swearing as he headed to the privy. 

Sunset over Laura Lake, Sunday night, Aug 2, 2020

Yet, there were also times that the antics brought back memories, like how Owen and others played in the sand, burying one another. They would then get up and run in the water to clean off the sand.  Then there was the few times seeing an two adults throw (happened on our visit in July) each grab one set of extremities and swing and throw a child in the water.  It can, at times, be rather amusing to overhear and watch what goes on.  I don't see much jumping off of shoulders any more, which I used to be the platform for my kids. I am not sure why that is, but while I saw a good number of mothers or grandmas at the beach, there were not many Dad's, or grandpas this time around.  I like to think my kids enjoyed playing in the water and standing and jumping off my shoulders. I know at Owen's camp site, I did not see any grown men other than his grandpa. Perhaps, if they were camping, they were fishing.  I am not sure if my wife's family did any of this fun water stuff, after all my wife is rather adverse to the water.  Or maybe they did and she did not like it, which makes her now find no interest in being in water.  As for the use of &#%!, and variations, I wonder what that generation will be like as adults.  

Road Construction Ahead

There is an old saying that there are two seasons in Wisconsin, winter and road construction.  A few months ago we received notice that our thirty year old street would be repaved likely starting the last week of July or early August.  When you do house or road work you can always expect the unexpected, and I am sure that occurred the week of July 27.

Milling Machine

On Monday July 27, a large machine to mill the asphalt arrived and within about 45 minutes the street was mainly comprised of asphalt grindings. It is a massive machine that is a wonder of mechanical design.  Both front and rear wheels turn, and it was sufficiently nimble that it could make it around the cul-de-sac bulb with but one little back up to reposition.  The price for such a machine is above $300,000.  I guess it beats the old way of a front end loader breaking up the asphalt and loading it in a truck.  That same day, they did some grading and compacting to allow the grindings to be more easily driven on.  If they had not compacted the grindings I could see a little Toyota easily getting stuck.  A little boy from the street nearby came to watch the operation I think he was quite fascinated by the equipment. We were fascinated by watching him on his little chair watch the heavy equipment. The following day they came to grade out some of the millings which took pretty much the whole day.  They would grade the millings to the center and a front end loader would load them to a dump truck for for transport and likely to once again be used in asphalt.  Asphalt is comprised of aggregate and a petroleum product.  Given the work Tuesday, I think many residents were hoping for a repaved street by the weekend.

A Man and his "Crayon" Marking Undercut Area

In the best of worlds, that would may have happened.  On Thursday about 12:45 pm, they started what is called proof rolling, taking a large dump truck filled with dirt and driving along the roadway. Experts, so to speak, watch the rear wheels for deflection in the street to determine soft spots for undercutting. A very scientific method, isn't it? Almost the full length of the odd numbered side of the street at a width of about 6 to 8 feet had to be undercut, as well as much of the cul-de-sac bulb.  There were probably about two areas of 50 feet in length along the even side.  I suspect the amount of undercut for this small street was probably a surprise.  They spent Thursday afternoon and and all of Friday doing and refilling the undercut areas.  They first dropped in breaker run, large hunks of stone about 6" or so with the fines.  On top of that normal gravel was leveled off, to a few inches below the top of gutter. 

Under cut Excavation

A thirty year old street poses a few issues.  The first thing, after having worked in local government is the quality of the inspection of the street improvements.  Inspectors are necessary to avoid mistakes, and short cuts.  I recall a subdivision in Fitchburg, about 20 years ago, where a contractor poured a half mile of sidewalk.  When they inspected the sidewalk they found it was only 4" thick and not the required 5".  The city would not accept the sidewalk, and the full half mile was ripped out and re-poured to the specifications.  The Public Works Director at the time thought it was purposeful, and noted the amount of material and money saved in a 4" 5' wide verse 5" 5' wide sidewalk over a half mile. However, many issues are never caught, like a poorly installed water curb stop, which happened to me and cost me a few grand to get repaired a number of years ago.  Or, the depth of gravel, the proper setting of water and sewer lines, and the proper back fill.  Then there is the street grading and placement of the sub-base gravel. 

Looking at the road undercut the contractors did on Friday, two things struck me: first, the blue-grey clay that was down to a depth of 2 to 2.5' below the gravel, second was the lack of proper gravel base in some areas for the road way.  As the backhoe operator said to me, "you could line a swimming pool with that stuff." When I asked one of the workers if the increased rainfall added to the need for additional undercutting due to wet soils, he said he did not know about that, but that there was a lack of gravel sub-base in many areas.  Another contractor indicated to a neighbor that one of the issues is the size and weight of garbage trucks. They no longer use the type where a person rides on the back and lifts and dumps a garbage can into the back.  No they have massive trucks with lifts operated by the driver.  No manual labor, but still a dirty job.  I can see the weight of vehicles making a difference, but I think, since most was on one side of the street, it also comes down to improper clay removal and lack of good sub-base of gravel. If it was the weight of the garbage trucks did most of the even side of the street not require undercutting?  

Blue-Gray Clay being cut out

The lack of good construction and inspection at initial offset of the project can lead to public costs later on.  The village is finding that out on this street. Thank goodness they did the proof roll, or the new pavement would be alligatoring, in a few years time.  

Filling and leveling Under Cut Areas

The little boy, perhaps 4 years of age, would bring a chair down to watch some of the construction, and on Wednesday when nothing was going on he said to his mom:  "I guess you were right mom, they are probably somewhere else today."  Although, I am not sure who was more impressed with the heavy equipment, the little boy or my wife.  My wife commented commented on the heavy equipment, perhaps on Tuesday and later when they parked it for the weekend in front of a fire hydrant.  She also noted, when they were with the spray cans marking the curb and areas of the street for undercutting, that it was boys and their crayons.  This may get to the issue of the only difference between men and boys is the size and price of their toys.  Think Fire Departments.  Anyway, on Friday they worked from 6:30 am to about 5:00 pm, with no breaks, eating lunch and getting water was had during those negligible times when there was a short wait for a dump truck load of gravel to arrive, and no other task required their attention.

Curb Marked for replacement

Last year the village marked a great deal of curb and gutter, which I thought was accomplished to prepare plans for possible replacement.  They did not mark curb this year, and so no curb replacement was anticipated.  However, when doing the proof rolling they marked sections of curb that will likely be replaced.  I noted to the contractor, as he awaited the rest of the persons for the proof roll the one section of curb along my property that was in bad shape.  It was in bad shape because the home builder decided to save 8" of cost on the driveway approach and leave the drive cut 8" short of the original gutter/curb joint.  This allowed water to get in, freeze and break the gutter.  A few other places along the road have a similar situation.  Road builders are not the only ones that may do a short cut.  Today, this would not occur, as most curb heads are removed by a large horizontal saw, and not removed and replaced, as thirty years ago, with a driveway approach.

Proof Rolling, the Cone is to mark a Manhole

Villages and cities are often under attack and receive criticism from developers about costs of inspection, which in most cases the developer pays for.  I heard that often, and with increasing frequency in my last years of work.  The public works director, at the time, received little backing from Administration. Yet, this one street is evidence of the costs the village, meaning taxpayers, will need to bear with poor construction and inspection.  Road construction ahead, can also mean more expenditures than anticipated lie ahead.