Herewith, a hodge-podge of odd, unusual, and interesting items from the far north in the past month, in photos and captions.
This 12-inch-diameter fungus — also called mushroom, because “fungus” is a yucky word — appeared on my sandy beach overnight. My plant identifier app calls it polyporaceae. (How to pronounce that??) Contains neurotoxins, yikes! But another source says it has health benefits. This is why I don’t play around with mushrooms, even though they’re plentiful here, and fascinating. Too confusing and dangerous.
Evidence of beaver work on a recent hike. Beavers are rodents. Basically, big rats. (But cute! And so industrious!) They can build dams as large as a mile long. Beaver hunting nearly wiped them out, but they’ve recovered. Conservation efforts do work!
Lake Superior was so calm during this post-sunset paddle, it looks like I’m floating in mid-air. Weird, right?
Um, how do you know which way to Fish Cove? Hehe. Spotted at an intersection on the way to a remote camping spot. (Fortunately, we were not looking for Fish Cove.)
It’s strange to realize our most-used road up here ends in Florida. One of the first numbered highways in the country, US-41 starts at the very top of Michigan and ends in Miami, almost 2000 miles away. Those of us who grew up here often talked about taking the entire route but never did.
So what’s so odd about this? It’s about what isn’t in this picture…a round red sign that says “Shut.” I’ve driven by this place dozens of times and it was always “shut.” (We chuckled over that word, which is a “localism.” It’s so minimalist and direct, like Finns. Shut!) I was so excited to find it open and discover a charming Finnish store called Kuusi, which means six. “Six what?” I asked. The owner informed me kuusi also means spruce tree. Good to know!
Bubbles. Lots of bubbles. Seen at the Pasty Fest in Calumet, Mich. about 12 miles north of my hometown. So did these kids have to shower afterwards? I never found out.
I also never found out how a human pasty machine works. I was too busy aiming for…
…the pasty-eating contest! A pasty is a kind of baked meat-and-potato hand pie that is a big deal in Finnish areas like this. My Mom often made them. The winner ate five, I think. I rarely finish one. Aack, eating contests! Not for me. (Pasties were created as a easy-to-carry lunch for miners. This is called the Copper Country, because…well, copper mining. Both my grandfathers were copper miners after immigrating here.)
Speaking of Finnish foods. This is what yuusto (Finnish cheese) looks like at the start. Basically, a big pan of milk. But after about three hours of curdling and draining and baking, it turns into…
…this, thanks to that weird stuff called rennet. I grew up eating this and make it often, served in one-inch squares. (My Mom dipped it into her coffee. I warm it in the microwave. Like other cheeses, it’s important to serve at the right temperature. And don’t forget the salt!)
In many exploratory paddles this summer, I ran into many strange things, but this driftwood sculpture sitting mid-lake on top of a sodden log was one of the strangest.
This weird-looking log might’ve made a decorative piece of driftwood but was too water-logged. We hauled it out of the bay because it was a navigation hazard, and we were also curious. (Logs float by several times a year, after major storms.) We couldn’t use it, so Jeff dragged it up to his camp.
Speaking of wood. I moved this pile of firewood from the trees to the porch to help provide a break from the north wind. An odd wind-break? Not here in the far north. And it will get used up.I’ll need that wood before long. A frost warning in August! Weird.
Also weird, removing trees from Camp Many Moons with this giant machine called an Iron Mule. This is what “toys” look like for rugged north-men! We removed six trees to make room for my waterfront studio. Next year, I hope.
This old-and-odd but well-loved camper has served as my “writing studio” for eight years. It was a hunting shack first, and Jeff kindly lent it to me. It goes back into the woods soon.
I’ve spent less time in that little camper now that I have a house with moonrise views like this. The odd-shaped triangle windows were a gamble, but I’m glad I chose them. You can just see the water while standing in the loft.
Speaking of water. Aurora Borealis over Lake Superior? Pretty rare, and unexpected during this camp-out at the mouth of the Huron River. What luck we had that night! You can see the Huron Islands, and I managed to catch the lighthouse flashing.
A more mundane (and frustrating) oddity was the way the recessed LED lights in the porch ceiling kept falling. One by one, all eight of them. Jeff rigged a kind of spring to keep them in place. I’ll report the failure to the store…not for a refund, but for future buyers.
One thing that visitors don’t usually see…the odd-shaped spaces behind the walls or above the ceiling. This space under the eaves counts as my “attic,” complete with visible spray-foam insulation. The handiest of “handy men” is rigging up the new mini-split air conditioner/heating unit here. My HVAC-expert brother sent it, and Jeff installed it. I’m fortunate to have access to such useful men. My knowledge (and interest) is in other areas, including…
…picking rocks. From the water. Pails and pails of them. Because now that the house is mostly done, I’m focusing on outdoor details such as…
…creating a rock border under the long porch eaves. Unusual solution? Yeah. Most people choose gutters to manage the rain that falls off the roof. I want to avoid that, so…
…after months of picking rocks and placing each one individually, I’m hoping this natural solution will absorb the sheets of rain that fall from the long roof and prevent the ditches it can cause. I’ve run out of proper rock size and color in the bay so have perused other beaches too. But each beach has its own kind of rocks, so they need to be mixed up. It’s not done yet, and I’ll probably be fussing with it forever.
On the subject of rocks. I wonder how that big white one ended up on the shoreline of Lake Superior? What kind of huge wave deposited it there? (Seen during a waterfront hike.)
Also, on rocks…this is my oddly relaxing hobby. Painting rocks with Finnish words and phrases and tucking them into a waterfront driftwood pile. It’s a fun rainy-day activity and my weird way of keeping my parents’ language alive.
Finally, on rocks. This fisherman’s dog joined him on this off-shore rock and seems ready to retrieve the fish! No fish, so no retrieving, but I still wonder if he would have.
Moving to land creatures. This poor flicker (a kind of woodpecker) flew hard into my patio door. THUNK! Thankfully a fairly unusual occurrence. I put it in a box and gave it water, then drove it 45 miles to a bird rehabilitator. Bad news–broken shoulder, so he was euthanized. š¦ (I’ve ordered some bird-deterrents to hang from the roof. Don’t want that occurrence again!)
Another unusual occurrence…a cat on water. Boo didn’t freak out, but she did jump off my paddleboard as soon as it neared shore. She puts up with me and my shenanigans, but…
…here’s what she thinks of that excursion! I’ll keep trying, because I like to share everything with her that she’s willing to share, even though…
…she would much rather be in the tall grass, where she hangs out for hours. She’s old, so I should let her do what she wants. But I just can’t help trying things out. I’m odd that way. š
Speaking of old. That’s how I felt when visiting this place. I was a camp counselor here, as a high school senior, guiding and supervising sixth-graders. I was only six years older than them. Isn’t that weird? I was “in charge” of them? I think I’ll try guiding my 60-year-old girlfriends now. Let’s see how they like it. š (Time does change one’s perspective.)And what’s this weird thing in the back of my car? A folding E-bike. That’s how we explored Camp Nesbit, riding there from a nearby campground. (Camp Nesbit is open only to groups, not individual campers.) I resisted E-bikes for a long time, but I like this one. It’s orange. It folds. And I can get it into and out of my car by myself. With some huffing and puffing. Not so weird, really.
I leave you with the odd patterns that frozen air creates on windows…in this case, the window of the trailer that sat on the shore of Camp Many Moons for years until it burned up last fall. Yes, I stayed in that trailer even in winter, but not for long. Even with heaters, trailers are cold in winter. I miss this view, but I don’t miss bundling up indoors.
It won’t be long before this waterfront is frozen. I’ll be ready. After all, I have that house to duck into. With a wood stove inside and wood piled on the porch.
For Many Moons 
HI, I tried to comment but it said Page not available when I clicked on the link.
I LOVE these photos. With your commentary they really feel like a visit!
Much love Blessings,
Chaplain Terry Nicholetti The Rappin’ Chaplain X, IG, youtube: @terrynicholetti
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i took the post offline for a while to fix some errors. Thank you for the comment!
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Love yo see your posts but not sure if you see when I comment. Havenāt done it much lately.
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Hi Jan! Yes I see it, and thank you.
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