Shocker....Greg and I like to camp. I can't really remember when we started, but we occasionally camped in the Arb at Gustavus (never got caught), and several school breaks found us in tents all over the country. I used to camp in my family's front yard. I'd stay out there until my mom told me to act civilized and start sleeping in the house or my dad had to mow the lawn. Must be in the blood.
A little less than four years ago, we became homeowners, and almost immediately afterward, dog owners. Osky, a five-year old part border collie entered our home and hearts in 2003. We were unsure how having a dog would impact our numerous hiking and camping trips. It soon became obvious that Oscar liked hiking even more than we did. Camping....that was another story.
We planned our first camping trip with Oscar in mid-April. We usually go north for hiking/camping, but in mid-April, we headed south, where the snow was gone and the rivers were running. We chose Whitewater State Park for our destination, packed up Goldy with the big tent, and set off. Naturally, this being a Maass family trip, we didn't arrive at our destination until well after dark. Oscar was content to sit in the car while we set up the tent. But not nearly so content when it came to sleeping in it. He did not enjoy the tent, whined to get let out, and generally made a huge pest of himself. A long walk around the campground to sniff and pee on about 45 things placated him a bit, and we settled in for the night.
We awoke at an ungodly hour to Osky whining to go out. Greg told him to shut up (standard practice at home) and he did for awhile. Right around sunup, he was whining again, and again told to shut up. Which he did. The next thing I saw was Greg hurriedly pulling on his pants. He informed me that Oscar had figured out how to let himself out of the tent, and was doing god-knows-what outside; something that involved a lot of other dogs barking at him.
He was retrieved by Greg, and many of our fellow campers were apologized to, and all was well. We tethered Oscar securely to the picnic table and began to cook breakfast. Oscar got a small bowl of dog chow, which he quietly went to work burying in the hard dirt. We didn't notice until after breakfast, when it began to rain. Picking the swollen, soggy dog chow up was a chore that fell to me. The rain was getting worse, and some lightning and thunder (Osky's nemesis) were off in the distance. Our rain-soaked oatmeal had been a less-than-satisfying breakfast, and after waiting out the rain for awhile, we decided to take the road any hard-core outdoors people would take....the road into Winona where we could eat lunch at Green Mill.
Greg and I had a nice large lunch inside, while Osky waited out in the car. We took him the leftovers...one piece of pizza and several pizza crusts, which we planned to give him later. Back at the campsite, the rain was letting up a bit, and we changed into hiking boots and clothes. Oscar took that opportunity to bury his pizza crusts in the ashes in the fire pit.
And we were off on the trail. Osky loves to hike more than anything, so we were finally having a good time. He enjoyed splashing through the Whitewater River, and we were enjoying just being out on the trail after the long winter. That's when we had our first encounter with the "sniff-sniff-flop." Now easily recognizable to us almost immediately, the sniff-sniff-flop is Osky's patented response to SCAT! But at this time, we didn't know enough to pull him back soon enough, and he was soon wearing greasy, blackish poo all over his white fur. The thought of sharing the tent with him for a second night, already quite unappealing after the first, became downright disgusting. Luckily a bath in the Whitewater River left him looking and smelling like....a wet dog.... but not a feces-covered wet dog, at least. The rest of our trip was actually quite uneventful.
After that camping trip, we took Oscar to Tettegouche. We brought him his own blanket, which improved his behavior considerably. We now always tie the tent doors shut with boot laces, to prevent early morning escapes. The only incidents of note were when we woke up to Osky shaking woodticks all over the tent, and when some deer invaded the campsite. (Oscar, for some reason, has an incredible prey drive for deer). So we adapted, and now Oscar is our camping buddy. He is an especially good camper if we've hiked more than 10 miles that day.
But now we have a new dog, Spiro, so this season's early camping trips should be interesting....
1.12.2007
today's truest truth
I was re-reading my "itchy feet and trip dreaming" post and it suddenly occurred to me that many of my favorite travel memories with Greg were times that didn't sound like that much fun; indeed, some of them were pretty awful as we lived them. (Fleabag motel in Seligman, AZ, anyone?) If any of you read that post, you probably thought that if those were some of my favorite memories, you would hate to see the bad ones.
I realized that for me, anyway, something is almost never really great unless parts of it are really bad, too, or really hard, or really not that fun. I was reading something I wrote about our Cracker Lake hike (in Glacier National Park 2 years ago). That hike kind of sucked. First of all, I started our time in Montana out by leaving my wedding rings in Wyoming. So we had to go get them, and by the time we got back to Montana, the weather had turned for the worse. It rained and rained and was foggy and rained some more. Well, we decided to hike anyway, and the sadistic guys camped next to us told us Cracker Lake would be a nice little day hike, maybe "a little" muddy, though. Well, we started off one gray morning, and made a couple miles pretty easily. Then the mud. At this point, we didn't really want to turn back and kept hoping it would get better, but it just got worse. We could barely hike, I slipped and fell and ended up wearing a good portion of the trail (and horse apples) on my clothing, and it was so thick it totally covered our boots at times. (I believe the muddiest boot contest was invented on this trip, but I'm not entirely sure.) Then it started to rain in earnest. Not long after that was when we started noticing the bear tracks in the mud. Large, dinner-plate sized tracks. And scat. Enormous piles of it. Gargantuan scat. Still we trekked on, thinking that if it was going to suck this bad, we were at least going to get to see the view at the lake. We stopped briefly for lunch in a meadow. As soon as we weren't moving, we were freezing. That's about the time it started to snow, as well. Well, we made it to the lake, turned around, and hiked out. This simple 12-mile day hike took us 8 hours. It really wasn't that much fun while we were doing it. About that hike I wrote, "it was wonderful in the way of wonderful things that are comprised largely of terrible ones." To this day, that hike is still one of my favorite memories. It wouldn't have been nearly as memorable if the weather had been great, or there were no bears. We were proud of just doing it, I guess. It was wonderful in the way of wonderful things that are comprised largely of terrible ones. I like that line. Today it feels like the truest truth I know. That the best memories and the best stories are the best precisely because they are also the worst.
That's all....my truest truth for today....
I realized that for me, anyway, something is almost never really great unless parts of it are really bad, too, or really hard, or really not that fun. I was reading something I wrote about our Cracker Lake hike (in Glacier National Park 2 years ago). That hike kind of sucked. First of all, I started our time in Montana out by leaving my wedding rings in Wyoming. So we had to go get them, and by the time we got back to Montana, the weather had turned for the worse. It rained and rained and was foggy and rained some more. Well, we decided to hike anyway, and the sadistic guys camped next to us told us Cracker Lake would be a nice little day hike, maybe "a little" muddy, though. Well, we started off one gray morning, and made a couple miles pretty easily. Then the mud. At this point, we didn't really want to turn back and kept hoping it would get better, but it just got worse. We could barely hike, I slipped and fell and ended up wearing a good portion of the trail (and horse apples) on my clothing, and it was so thick it totally covered our boots at times. (I believe the muddiest boot contest was invented on this trip, but I'm not entirely sure.) Then it started to rain in earnest. Not long after that was when we started noticing the bear tracks in the mud. Large, dinner-plate sized tracks. And scat. Enormous piles of it. Gargantuan scat. Still we trekked on, thinking that if it was going to suck this bad, we were at least going to get to see the view at the lake. We stopped briefly for lunch in a meadow. As soon as we weren't moving, we were freezing. That's about the time it started to snow, as well. Well, we made it to the lake, turned around, and hiked out. This simple 12-mile day hike took us 8 hours. It really wasn't that much fun while we were doing it. About that hike I wrote, "it was wonderful in the way of wonderful things that are comprised largely of terrible ones." To this day, that hike is still one of my favorite memories. It wouldn't have been nearly as memorable if the weather had been great, or there were no bears. We were proud of just doing it, I guess. It was wonderful in the way of wonderful things that are comprised largely of terrible ones. I like that line. Today it feels like the truest truth I know. That the best memories and the best stories are the best precisely because they are also the worst.
That's all....my truest truth for today....
1.01.2007
dichotomy
My newfound enthusiasm for our new life didn't last into the new year. Maybe it's just my nature to never let something be completely okay. We're planning the life I want terribly, but just knowing that I will be leaving this life makes me a little sad. Just a week ago I told Lindsay the only things I would miss about living here would be my nieces and a couple of restaurants. But now I see things I'll miss everywhere I look.
It's no secret that I've completely outgrown my job, and at times I almost hate it. But I have good friends there, people I would never know otherwise. My best friend at work is a 38-year-old mother of four. Unbelievably, we have so much in common. I have work friends from Somalia, Nigeria, Ethiopia, Russia, and Egypt. They just give me a different perspective on things. You wouldn't believe some of the things some of them have lived through. It's enough to make you wonder how you ever got so lucky as to be born in this country at all. I am lucky to know them all. And the hospital is an exciting place....very fast-paced and diverse. You should hear me try to explain how to get to the ER in Spanglish to a stabbing victim (that happened....he showed me the wound....ok, maybe I won't miss that!)
I'll miss St. Paul, too. We have an awesome Farmers' Market, and I've gotten used to having cheap, fresh vegetables in the summer. Also, we buy meat and eggs there year round, and I've grown to dislike the grocery store chicken and eggs. We have fun stores close to home, like Peapods and the Red Balloon Bookshop for kids' stuff. We have Mississippi Market down the street which is a co-op that always has the "Just Tomatoes" line of dried fruits in stock, not to mention organic fruits and veggies. We have lots of restaurants close to home and beautiful old streets with wonderful trees. They are especially great in the fall and winter. I have lived here for almost four years with Greg and one year with Subashi before I was married, and it's become my home.
I'll miss our house, even though it's too big and hard to keep up for slobs like us. We bought it together and picked out all the furnishing especially for it. We have a great front porch, where I spend most of my waking moments in the spring, summer, and fall. We eat dinner out there, talk out there, meet neighbors there, listen to Twins games on the radio and drink wine out there. We have great neighbors. Oscar even has two best (dog) friends among our neighbors. Phoebe is also part border collie and lives across the street, and Georgia is his other favorite bitch....she lives one street behind us. We live two blocks from the Mississippi River, and Osky and I walk down there almost every day. You can see an amazing array of birds there. There is a bald eagle we see quite often. I named him Baldeagle Badugelkinz.
I ride the train to work. It's so nice only having to drive a couple miles a day. In the winter, when we don't travel as much, I buy gas for Goldy about once every 2 months, in the summer about once every 6 weeks or so. I like to go to Twins games and Gophers games every so often. Next week Greg and I are going to a Timberwolves game. We also occasionally go to the Minnesota Orchestra or a play at the Ordway or Orphium. We have Midwest Mountaineering in Minneapolis which is an awesome outdoors store and also REI over in Bloomington.
We have friends here, although we don't see them nearly enough. Our only family here is my brother-in-law and sister-in-law and their two daughters, but they are like our best friends. Paul can always be counted on to help out with anything, even if you ask last minute, and Steph is always good for some conversation. I love my nieces Britta and Sophie so much, even when Sophie is puking at the dinner table and Britta is demanding 10 books before bedtime. I will miss them most of all.
"This is the year we're going to get our shit together and finally start our new life," Greg said to me today. It really is the plan, and I'm happy about it. Hell, I invented it. But I'm sad, too. Nothing's ever black and white with me. It's always a dichotomy....shades of gray.
I hope this year is a good one....
It's no secret that I've completely outgrown my job, and at times I almost hate it. But I have good friends there, people I would never know otherwise. My best friend at work is a 38-year-old mother of four. Unbelievably, we have so much in common. I have work friends from Somalia, Nigeria, Ethiopia, Russia, and Egypt. They just give me a different perspective on things. You wouldn't believe some of the things some of them have lived through. It's enough to make you wonder how you ever got so lucky as to be born in this country at all. I am lucky to know them all. And the hospital is an exciting place....very fast-paced and diverse. You should hear me try to explain how to get to the ER in Spanglish to a stabbing victim (that happened....he showed me the wound....ok, maybe I won't miss that!)
I'll miss St. Paul, too. We have an awesome Farmers' Market, and I've gotten used to having cheap, fresh vegetables in the summer. Also, we buy meat and eggs there year round, and I've grown to dislike the grocery store chicken and eggs. We have fun stores close to home, like Peapods and the Red Balloon Bookshop for kids' stuff. We have Mississippi Market down the street which is a co-op that always has the "Just Tomatoes" line of dried fruits in stock, not to mention organic fruits and veggies. We have lots of restaurants close to home and beautiful old streets with wonderful trees. They are especially great in the fall and winter. I have lived here for almost four years with Greg and one year with Subashi before I was married, and it's become my home.
I'll miss our house, even though it's too big and hard to keep up for slobs like us. We bought it together and picked out all the furnishing especially for it. We have a great front porch, where I spend most of my waking moments in the spring, summer, and fall. We eat dinner out there, talk out there, meet neighbors there, listen to Twins games on the radio and drink wine out there. We have great neighbors. Oscar even has two best (dog) friends among our neighbors. Phoebe is also part border collie and lives across the street, and Georgia is his other favorite bitch....she lives one street behind us. We live two blocks from the Mississippi River, and Osky and I walk down there almost every day. You can see an amazing array of birds there. There is a bald eagle we see quite often. I named him Baldeagle Badugelkinz.
I ride the train to work. It's so nice only having to drive a couple miles a day. In the winter, when we don't travel as much, I buy gas for Goldy about once every 2 months, in the summer about once every 6 weeks or so. I like to go to Twins games and Gophers games every so often. Next week Greg and I are going to a Timberwolves game. We also occasionally go to the Minnesota Orchestra or a play at the Ordway or Orphium. We have Midwest Mountaineering in Minneapolis which is an awesome outdoors store and also REI over in Bloomington.
We have friends here, although we don't see them nearly enough. Our only family here is my brother-in-law and sister-in-law and their two daughters, but they are like our best friends. Paul can always be counted on to help out with anything, even if you ask last minute, and Steph is always good for some conversation. I love my nieces Britta and Sophie so much, even when Sophie is puking at the dinner table and Britta is demanding 10 books before bedtime. I will miss them most of all.
"This is the year we're going to get our shit together and finally start our new life," Greg said to me today. It really is the plan, and I'm happy about it. Hell, I invented it. But I'm sad, too. Nothing's ever black and white with me. It's always a dichotomy....shades of gray.
I hope this year is a good one....
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