Cabin culture is big in Minnesota. So far I have been lucky to be invited to three different cabins, each a distinct part of that culture. This past weekend I was at a friend’s cabin “up north” near Grand Rapids, parallel with Grand Marais and Bemidji. It’s in the Chippewa National Forest, which means it’s just the best kind of cabin. It sits lightly on the land, with an outhouse and limited septic, a wood stove for winter, a bunk house where I climbed a ladder to get in and out of bed (an adventure in the middle of the night to go to that outhouse), and a wonderful screen room for dining near the water.
Before our late breakfast we sat on the dock and watched the men coming home from fishing, and in the evening we ate on the screen porch and saw the men coming home from fishing. All the boats were small and efficient and there wasn’t a jet ski, four wheeler, or speed boat to be seen.
The cabin is on Turtle Lake (one of 10,000 in Minnesota, actually more like 11,017). It is also the reference point for a famous Minnesota piece of pop culture. Remember that jingle, “From the land of sky blue waters”? Well, Hamms Brewery had a resort/corporate getaway on this lake. So these would be them waters. About 20 miles before the cabin you pass a turn-off for Land O’ Lakes Drive.
If recent weeks at home have been about birds, this weekend was about bugs. The cold and rain we’ve been having has been just wonderful for the mosquitoes.
But really, we didn’t have much trouble from them. With the screen room and ample bug spray, and our amazing swatting ability, we were mostly unscathed. We got bitten, sure, but it wasn’t as awful as I’ve found it to be when you’re, say, camping, and really can’t get away from them.
On the way up, however, I drove along the shore of Mille Lacs. This is one of the largest lakes in the United States after the Great Lakes, and in some places you can’t see the other shore. And it is known for its vast population of mayflies.
I’d never seen them before, but they rise up in swarms– columns really– from the pines all along the road and make clouds overhead. They’re tiny bugs with big wings, and they don’t bite, so they’re just a nuisance. They don’t block the sun, and I’m not sure a photo would have done it justice (sorry, no photo). Mayflies live for one day, which is long enough, said the guy in the gas station, for them to breed more for the next day. He said they’d be around all summer.
There were also ticks, of course, which I’ve gotten used to. However, I did pick off my first deer tick, a smaller version of a regular wood tick. These are scarier, because they transmit Lyme disease. It had not bitten me, and I carried it, and a larger tick, down that ladder and outside the bunk house.
Finally, there are army worms up there this season. These are just disgusting caterpillars that arrive in mass and are everywhere and just kind of poop and make webs. We took a broom to them and picked them off things all weekend, expressing our disgust loudly!
OH yeah. We also had loons making their eerie calls, warbling and diving next to the pontoon, and we saw a gigantic eagle’s nest and two eagles. One was up standing on a high branch, illuminated by the sun, against a deep blue sky. I know we appreciate them more because we almost lost them entirely, but eagles are magnificent creatures.
When I look at these pictures of the cabin and lake, I might remember the yuck and ouch and menace of the bugs… but more likely I’ll remember that eagle, the stars at night during that walk to the outhouse, and the very fine time I had with two lovely women eating delicious food and talking.