wolves and ham, not in that order: September 24

I have always wanted to make it up to the Great Lakes region, which dotted the green area denoting National Forest land on our map with little blue misshapen circles.  Andre says water is magical. It’s the only thing that expands both when it heats and when it cools.  So, we pointed Butter northwards and started driving towards the Northwoods of Minnesota.  Stopping for a hike to scope out the wild rice paddies, we learned about the logging industry and how beneficial it was for Minnesota through a series of animated cartoon informational markers that lined the loop trail.  Sadly, we also learned that we missed the wild rice by a couple of weeks, but we did manage to forage a farm raised smoked ham from Ben Cliff, a hunter who I caught Andre chatting up in the parking area.  Here's Andre devouring some of that ham. Yum.

Later that afternoon, we landed in a town called Ely and stopped to work at a coffeeshop.  Despite the impending cold, harsh winter, I adored this place, so much that I contemplated the idea of living here.  It felt like my kind of place, filled with my kind of people—people who ride bikes, wear dreadlocks and sandals—and the streets were lined with small shops and galleries.  Maybe that was just the impression I got from the few people we met, including one couple (fellow Westy owner) who gave us directions on a place to camp and hike outside of town.  They parked their bikes to visit with us, telling us of their dream to drive around the country in their bus, and even had a plan worked out involving a “for sale” sign that they believed would allow them to stealth camp in any neighborhood.

Unfortunately, the lake they sent us to was beautiful but not suitable for camping, so we continued down the road until we stumbled upon Hanson Lake. We’d have this entire lake to ourselves, for sure, which meant we could toss in the fishing rod, although fishing turned out to be poor.  Instead, we had plenty of fun making videos of us pretending to forage for a television producer who wants to do a show about our journey.  Andre built a fire and I put together a nice plate of appetizers.  We cooked ham and black bean tacos on the fire and listened to the wolves howl at the moon. Unlike the pack we heard a couple of nights ago, though, this pack sounded quite large, maybe as many as 20. They were also much closer than they were other night, close enough to deter us from sleeping outside.  I fell asleep listening to their songs, cuddling next to Andre, warm and totally blissed out.