Moose Mountain

I really like Duluth. I think Jamie agrees. We couldn't be sure how our feelings for the place would develop when we first drove over the horrendous roads of the city, but it has and continues to grow on us. Moose Mountain is a case in point. Consisting of about 177 acres, it is a small state natural area boasting an old growth hardwood forest of rare plants not found in the normal spruce aspen forests. Its about fifteen minutes from our place compared to the normal 1.5 hour trip required in Oregon. As for our snowhoe outing, it wasn't criss-crossed by nordic ski trails so we wouldn't be causing any grief by wandering around.

As we neared the trailhead on a perfect Saturday morning ( middle teens with sun) we offered our guesses to the number of cars in the lot. Jamie claimed near five and I, cynical from my crowded Portland trips suggested fifteen. Well we couldn't even find a parking space and were forced to park on the road. There were no cars there though. In fact the lot hadn't been plowed and only a few tracks disturbed two feet of powder! There is something to be said for small towns.

There were plenty of animal tracks that we didn't have the skill to discern, as well as a ton of freshly occupied deer beds. Chuck enjoyed a busy nose. I could not believe we had the place to ourselves.

Stormy Superior Hike

There is no site in Duluth more otherworldly (other than a mile long line for ice cream at the local hockey stadium when its ten below) than Lake Superior where it meets the long sandy bench of Park Point. It was only days before Christmas when we took our first hike out to the end of the point. After driving past cottages that look more like Cape Cod than Minnesota, the road ends at a small regional airstrip. Beyond is an old growth pine forest abutting the relentless onslaught of Superior.

The sky glowered over the Lake like a lead blanket. Gusts howled over the tops of muddy swells as they smashed into walls of ice and frozen spray. It was difficult to even take pictures in the face of the wind, but the opaque ice field extending toward the lake was a compelling sight.
It looked like a lunar landscape more than anything else. It was almost impossible to navigate with chunks of ice bigger than car batteries littered about.

Blackwater Lodge

I wanted to put up some pics to dispel the notion that winter in MN only consists of huddling by the heater in turns. Somehow, we've managed to grow used to a climate much harsher than the benign Portland fog. Our friend Scott has a cabin in North central MN. He and Jill extended the invitation to join them for a weekend of ice fishing, four wheeling, gun shooting, and heater huddling. We of course accepted.
We arrived to find the driveway only partially snowed in. While we shoveled and blew snow, the cabin began its slow climb from 3 degrees. We kept busy, getting our licenses, setting up tip-ups and all the Friday afternoon preparations that come with a cozy cabin stay. We ended up catching a few slime darts (northern Pike) which Chuck spun circles around barking and growling as if the fish had the capacity to jump up and run away.

The following day brought several more inches of wind whipped snow. We set up the Eskimo shelter, and waited for fish that had no intention of biting. But not to worry we brought some beer along to cheer us up!
Riding the quad around gave Jamie quite a scare, as it was unnerving to suddenly be bogged down in eight inches of slush on a lake you want to believe contains nothing but rock hard ice. Of course the ice was still two feet thick beneath that layer, but its tough to not believe your eyes.