When I started making my mugs for January, I had an idea of how to make them, and most of the time it worked. By the end of the month, I had a process for how to make them, and I understood that process deeply.

For most of last year, I was focused on outcomes. “Man, it would be cool to make X”, “Oh, I bet I could try Y”. This kept me motivated and kept me excited to work on my pottery. Good to be motivated. That truly is step one in any endeavor, right?

The thing that scared me was when I failed, messed up a pot, and sometimes I didn’t understand what I did wrong. This created a sort of anxiety that was building over time. The unknown is a terror.

From working on these 100 mugs, I fixed small errors. I made a few adjustments that dialed in my ability.

Here’s a short list:

• I learned how much wedging I needed to do

• I learned how to center better by pushing out into my steady hand.

• I learned to be slow and careful when opening the pot. (This is where unevenness shows its ugly head very quickly if not careful.)

• I learned to use plenty of water, but to add consistently and not just drown the pot.

• I learned certain limits of applying pressure to the clay when pulling up.

• I learned a 1000 micro-lessons on pulling handles which are between my hands and the clay, and I can’t really put it into words.

Basically, it became a lot easier to throw pots.

As a side note, I was listening to Bob Spitz's book about the Beatles during much of the month. This turned out to be perfect. A good portion of the book covers the Beatles' time in Hamburg, where they used to spend 7-8 hours EVERY night playing to drunken sailors and their girlfriends. They were only 17-19 years old at the time. This intense amount of playing is often credited with why they were so good at performing. They were veterans of the stage and of their instruments before they were 20 years old. It wasn’t luck that they had success. They worked like hell for it.

Onward!

My next rung on my ladder to becoming a professional potter is to refine my styles systematically. Up to recently, I’ve just been throwing shit at the wall and throwing away whatever doesn’t stick (sorta metaphorically, sorta .. yeah).

In February, so far, I’ve been branching back out, making bowls and vases again. Oh, and here are some of those mugs from January after firing. So many more still need to be glazed and fired. As always, theses pots are available at www.noblestoneware.com

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It’s been a heck of a year. I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has supported me on Substack with this pottery project I started this spring. It has helped push me forward and keep me honest. It’s a very cool group of folks on Substack.

The Final Glaze Fire of 2025

I was incredibly happy with how some new forms and new glazes worked out.

Below are the highlights from my latest firing.

This pitcher was a successful experiment using Manganese Dioxide (the black specks). These specks were mixed into the clay during wedging and add some character to the final product. More of this to come!

This was a strange result. I wanted the barrel to look like an old, worn whiskey barrel. It looks more like a barrel that was recovered from a shipwreck. We’ll call it a happy accident.

I clearly am a big fan of this glaze: Caribbean Green from Minnesota Clay. The glaze really lends itself to the textured surfaces. I think there’s a bit too many different things going on here without intermingling. I do like each design individually, though.

The drip!! This wasn’t intentional per se, but I have kinda fallen in love with the way this pitcher turned out. Happy accident #2!

This one ended up looking like a forest with mountains in the background. It’s actually larger than it looks. It’s approximately 10” tall.

This crazy pot turned out pretty neat, aside from the mess I made in the middle (something to remember for next time!).

This casserole dish turned out really cool. I spent waaaay too much time on those handles. I doubt I’ll try anything that ornate for a while.

Many of these pots and more are available at my shop: www.noblestoneware.com

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The 100 Mugs of January

I had a conversation with my dad over the holidays. While studying pottery in college, he asked his instructor how to get pots to look the same. His instructor responded by having my dad make the same pot 100 times.

I was drinking beer out of one of these remaining mugs from that 100 he made back in the 70s, and I had a thought. It would certainly do me some good to try to make the same thing 100 times. So with that said, I’ve decided to make 100 of these fellas:

The goal: Make 100 Mugs completely done in the Greeware (raw) state before February 1st

For each one of these, I’m estimating:

2-3 minutes to weigh and wedge

10 minutes to throw

8-10 minutes to trim and stamp (the flower design)

10 minutes to attach a handle.

That’s about 30 minutes each for a total of 50 hours of work over all 100 mugs.

Follow me here to follow my progress!

That’s it! I’ll make another post in February with the results of the challenge. Cheers to a great 2026 (one can hope).

Happy with my kiln having turned off, I returned inside. The kiln had been on since roughly 11 am on Sunday. Making the firing time roughly 18 hours. It would be another 12 before the kiln was cool enough for me to open the lid and get a good view.

Here’s what I pulled out:

I’ll call this vase a ‘study’. I was learning to make flowers and also learned the limits of how thick I should apply glaze... Note the solidified drips of blue. This is Iron Range clay with Caribbean Green glaze over top. Flowers were underglazed only, creating a very matte finish.

This is the same glaze applied slightly thinner and over a white stoneware clay body. Very much worked and I shall be making more pots inspired by this success.

An insane cousin to the previous mug. I kinda just started carving, and I’m fairly happy with it, though the glaze might need to be screened in the future to avoid those little pins you see toward the top.

This will be a lotion/soap dispenser. I was incredibly happy with how consistently the glaze spread over the surface. Couldn’t have turned out better.

This was a completely new glaze to me. I actually really like this and my wife likes that simple double line design across the center. I just love how you can get lost in the layers of this glaze. When you hold it, it almost looks like its moving across the surface.

A similar design to the previous, but with a speckled blue glaze. It looks kind of strange, but I like it (and so does the wife, so it’s a keeper).

These two Easter Island (Rapa Nui) shot glasses were glazed in an ‘iron’ Celedon glaze. I’ve learned that celedon glazes are tricky and tend to show up any runs or drips quite easily. They also look drastically different depending on how thick the glaze is applied. Left had a bit more glaze applied (whoops).

If you like what you see, be sure to check out www.noblestoneware.com . Everything is on sale, and shipping is free in the U.S.

Here are some honorable mentions from this batch.

Thanks for reading.

Day 1: Gorging in Duluth

We started our trip on a Wednesday morning in August, arriving in Duluth around 10:30 am. We stopped at The Duluth Grill for breakfast and some cocktails. We wouldn’t normally drink this early, but this was not a normal Wednesday. It was our 20th anniversary. We were gonna do whatever the hell we wanted.

The most notable thing from Duluth Grill? Get “Chicken and Whaat?” It was stupid good.

From there, we decided to check out Ursa Minor Brewery and play some Rummykube. We finally made it there after first mistaking their warehouse for the taproom. Settling in at Ursa Minor, we ordered some good beers, and I managed to lose every game of Rummykube.

After Ursa Minor, we headed up to Enger Tower as it was highly recommended by ..everyone. It was very pretty, so I’ll just let the pictures tell the story.

After wandering around Duluth a bit more, we settled in at our Airbnb. That night we ate dinner at Wissota Chop House in Superior. It was amazing. We ate at 6:00 pm on a Wednesday, so there weren’t many people there, and our waitress was really funny. We ate like fools. Great food. Highly recommend. https://wissotachophouse.com/

Thursday: Morning Coffee and The Apostle Islands side quest.

Morning Coffee with Kent Peterson

Knowing a prolific Substacker who lived in Superior, I had reached out to him a few days before to ask for some recommendations while we were in town. We both thought it would be fun to meet up. So, I met up at 2540 Coffee House with . We had a great chat. He had some stories from his time working in the Software industry in the 90s, a time for which I have a lot of nostalgia from my formative years. He had some great stories, and it was fun talking to someone in real life. I think we talked for about an hour. Really cool guy. Glad I got to know him. Here’s Kent’s post:

Kent’s Substack

Meeting at the Christian Coffee Shop

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8 months ago · 61 likes · 12 comments · Kent Peterson

My only regret is that I didn’t see Daisy. (If you know, you know. Next time, Kent!)

The Apostle Islands: Cars, Bikes, and Boats!

I’ve been wanting to check out the Apostle Islands for some time, and the wife and I thought, since we were only an hour and a half away, why not drive over there for the day? We drove through a fairly neat countryside that was mostly wall-to-wall trees. I loved it. Being from Iowa, where all you see is corn and all you smell is hog feces, it’s a welcome change.

Partway to our destination, we found a beach in Cornucopia and stopped to take some pictures and stretch our legs.

Finally, we made it to Bayfield, Wisconsin. Bayfield sits right on the coast of Superior in full view of the Apostle Islands. We unpacked our electric bikes and took a little ride through town.

Lunch was calling us, so we ate at The Pickled Herring. Had some yummy fish tacos (not pickled). Also had the first beer of the day.

After lunch, we rode our bikes to the pier to hop on the Madeline Island Ferry. It was maybe $30 round-trip for both of us, including our bikes. We barely had to wait for the ferry, and then it was a short 20-minute boat ride to La Point on Madeline Island.

We arrived at La Pointe on Madeline Island, and it felt really laid back. A lot of touristy shops and Art galleries. Before stopping anywhere, we started riding. No plan, just started riding through La Pointe. We ended up making a little couple-mile loop ride. Here’s the entire Apostle Island’s side quest mapped out.

After the ride, Jennie and I stopped at a few shops. Most notable was a shop that was filled with local artwork: The Woods Hall Gallery and Studio. Saw some really cool artwork there and even picked up a nice new mug from a local artist named Joan Malloy Slack. Here’s her website: www.joanslack.com .

We then hit up The Beach Club on Madeline Island for a drink. It was a welcome break, and we relaxed on the outside patio listening to the conversations going on around us. One person was from Bulgaria and was talking about her studies with an older couple. Another group was sitting with their dog, which had Jennie’s attention the entire time. There was another conversation about rolling their own cigarettes. It was a strange mix of folks, which is always best.

Then it was off to the ferry… which we just missed.

Crap. We waited on the dock for about 20 minutes. An older guy was waiting next to us. We got to talking to him and he turned out to be a Snowbird up from Arizona to visit family in the ‘Chicagoland Area’. He said he and his wife would spend summers up north traveling in their RV to get away from the heat. I know a lot of snowbirds that would do the opposite; Home was in the north, and they go down south in the Winter to escape the cold. I think this guy has the better formula.

We packed up the bikes in Bayfield and headed back to Superior. Definitely need to do a full quest based out of Bayfield sometime. Very neat place.

Back in Superior, we ordered some takeout pizza from Shamrock Pizza. It had its history on the menu, so I had to read it. They’ve been serving pizza for quite a long time. https://shamrockpizza.com/about/. Also drank Spotted Cow, a very popular cream ale made by New Glarus Brewing. It was quite good.

That was Thursday wrapped up. Great day. One for the books.

Friday: A Bike Ride, a Coffee, and a Dream… or a Beer.

We started the day with a coffee from Hallowed Grounds. I thought this was a peculiar name, considering it’s a coffee shop on wheels. Whatever the case, their coffee was excellent. And, if we’re going for vibes, they win.

Next, we took our coffees and headed for the Osaugie Trail. We parked in a parking lot near Barker’s Island and headed over to check out the island.

Barker’s Island was pretty cool. I got to drool over all the sailboats at the dock, and there were nice trails and a great view of the water.

After the Osaugie Trail, we decided to head over to Duluth and check out the Aquarium. It was a really cool place.

Because we’re thirsty people, we decided to check out another Brewery after this. We headed to Bent Paddle Brewing. Almost exactly as we sat down to have a drink, the sky opened up and aggressively rained. We were dry as a bone. By the time we left, the rain had stopped.

After that, we hit up a few places in Duluth. Kent had recommended a bookstore, Foxes and Fireflies, so we headed there. It was a cool little book shop! Down the street from there was Sweeden Sweets.

In lieu of having another day with two big meals out, we decided to eat a late lunch, early dinner at 7 West Tap House.

It was a great meal, and they had some good beers on tap. While we were there, a local lady came in and sat down at their bar. Our waitress immediately knew her and told her she’d grab her Mountain Dew right away. The lady obviously came in there all the time just to hang out. It was a laid-back atmosphere, at least at 2:00 pm.

After our meal, we headed back to the Airbnb to relax. We keep a travel journal, and every time we go back to our base of operations, we update it. I highly recommend keeping a journal if you travel. It’s a great way to keep track of what you did for reference for future trips, as well as to reminisce.

The Duluth-Superior Trip was an excellent short vacation. The wife and I decided we’ve gotten pretty good at having a good time. It sounds like an odd thing to say, but listen. We’ve been married 20 years. That means we’ve had every kind of stupid argument imaginable. Anymore, we mostly joke around and try to support each other. I think we’ve just … grown up and grown together. Life is only what you make of it. Here’s to decades more! Cheers folks.

If you want to learn about my hiking, skiing, biking, Minnesota, pottery making, and apparently breweries, subscribe. I’ll be doing what I do.

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I don’t know how old I was when I first threw a pot on the wheel. My entire childhood, my father made pottery professionally out of our basement (downtown for a few years as well). This was: Noble Stoneware Pottery by Chuck Noble. He worked full-time as a potter since the late 70s. Having sold much of his work at art fairs, his pieces spread out across the Midwest.

Groups of women in different cities would come to art fairs every year, collecting his pieces, trying to finish an entire set, or picking up a piece from his newest style. His work was very affordable. For example, he would sell a lotion pump for less than $10 throughout the 90s. His canister sets were criminally underpriced. His most expensive piece was a soup tureen set, which included the large tureen with lid, a ceramic ladle, and six bowls for $125.

He wanted to sell pottery to everyone, not just some snobby rich people. So his model was to sell volume over trying to sell a few high-dollar pieces. He was often the most affordable high-quality pottery at fairs, and our booth was always busy.

I was born in 1984. By the time I was a few years old, I was going to art fairs with my parents on weekends. At some point, I took an interest in pottery myself. To be honest, I was actually more interested in pencil sketching throughout all of my childhood. It was just more readily available, and I was often very encouraged by others to draw. I was well-known as the ‘drawing kid’ throughout most of my school career. I have to admit, this gave me a well of self-confidence that I still carry to this day. Remember to encourage kids! It really can have a lasting impact, no joke.

In High school, my priorities shifted. As it so happened, my homeroom teacher was also the art teacher. He was someone I’d known for most of my life. He was a fellow potter from town, and our families had known each other for years, having traveled to the same art fairs. This was Mr. Schroder.

Mr. Schroder would be my second pottery teacher after my father. I took his ceramics class in school and spent a lot of extra time in the art room whenever I could. Not only could I throw pots when I was at school, but I could turn around and throw more when I got home.

When I was a senior in high school, I was accepted into an independent art study program at the school. This meant that I could go to the art room during any free period and spin pots to my heart’s content. It was great. I spent a lot of time sitting at a green kick wheel in the back of the art room alone, spinning pots. I was even sitting in that very spot during the attacks on 9/11, which were shown on the TVs around the school.

For a few years, pottery was an obsession of mine. Kids at school might see my jeans covered with dried clay, and it was hardly noticed after a while. It couldn’t be helped. I’m a messy person, and pottery is a messy, messy art form.

I made many pots in high school. To this day, my mother has even the ugliest, lumpiest pots filled with vibrant plants which are worthy of much better.

Then I graduated from high school. It seemed that along with it, my father would retire from pottery. He’d slowly been transitioning to working full-time at a detention center for troubled youth up the street from our house. This was a wise decision on his part as it would afford him retirement benefits (which he now enjoys).

The pottery equipment was slowly put away. I moved out of my small town and lost access to the pottery wheel. My now wife and I had moved to the big city of Des Moines, Iowa, and our apartment was too small for a pottery studio, not that I had the time for it anyway. We had a child, got busy, you know the rest.

Eventually, there wasn’t even clay around my parents ’ home—no more pots. Noble Stoneware was over.

-

This year, 20 years later, things changed.

I had been thinking about pottery the entire time I was away from making it. My son graduated from high school last year, and I’ve been dabbling in all kinds of ideas for new distractions. Not only did I become an empty nester, but I also became 40 (yuck).

My mother has always wanted to see me making pots again and would persistently ask me if I would want to take Dad’s wheel. Not obnoxious like, just “hey, remember, we still have dad’s old pottery wheel. It’s yours if you want it.” I think she knew I enjoyed it and even missed it, but I was always too busy with other things.

Finally, early this year, I picked up my father’s old wheel and brought it home. It was in bad shape. Wiring was in tatters, and the wooden base needed a fresh coat of paint. I spent two weeks resurrecting it.

Just like that, I had a wheel. I made a spot in the basement and just started throwing pots. No plan, no goals, no tutorials, just spinnin’ baby!

It was a little hard going the first few weeks. I did relent and watched some YouTube tutorials. There were big gaps in my memory. Of course, I call my dad often. I’m lucky to have a master potter at my beck and call to answer any questions I have.

Lately, he’s been helping me get my recently purchased kiln running. Kilns are expensive and heavy. They are a burden to have to deal with. But they are a very important part of pottery making. To fully make stoneware pottery, one needs a way of firing and finishing these pots to make them usable and strong. I had to replace a circuit breaker box and learn how to wire a 240V outlet (I’m also lucky to have electricians for friends who helped talk me through this. Be VERY careful if you try anything like this yourself).

Twenty years after Noble Stoneware Pottery fizzled away, I can say that it has returned, and I’m more ravenous than ever to see it be successful.

I sent my dad a picture of a jar I made recently. He replied:

“Looks great! NOBLE STONEWARE Lives”

Stay tuned. I’m still working to get the kiln online, but here’s some unfired work:

Background

I was born in small town Iowa in the 1980s, a place that was comfortably insulated from many other cultures or lifestyles. Virtually everyone I grew up with was a white ‘Christian.’ I put Christian in quotes because most of my peers, including myself, didn’t give a hoot about religion (That’s not to put down your religion, just leave me out of it, and we can be great friends).

Growing up, politics were not a big thing anyone talked about. No one even knew if their parents were republicans or democrats. It was the 90s when Bill Clinton was having sex with everyone and ‘not smoking pot.’ No one talked about race or gender identity. No one. Everyone around me was white and straight. It was a portrait of blissful ignorance. Then, as we all know, politics slowly got louder and louder. Progressives pushed forward, conservatives clung to the past. The internet started to peel away the ignorance that was a standard for us, rural midwesterners.

I moved to the big city, my views evolved, and I became a typical progressive, white ’IT guy’ millennial. What a fucking cliche right?

The First Surprise

I have a son who was born with the Sex of Female. My son identifies as male now and has for several years.

That makes my son Transgender. It was not easy for anyone in my family when he first told us how he felt. It was shocking, confusing, and stressful. My wife and I had no idea how to react.

When he first told us, as someone who overanalyzes everything, my instinct was to keep a constant skeptical view. So naturally, I had a lot of questions for my son.

He had a tough time talking about it, and I needed answers. I wanted to be sure he knew what he was talking about, that he wasn’t under the influence of some friend or random person on the internet. Nope. These feelings were something that had been brewing in him for a long time until he finally understood for himself.

Finally, after more than a year of conversations, we had a breakthrough conversation, and my son went from being called ‘she’ to ‘he.’ It took a bit for us to get used to, but really.. it ain’t that hard, folks. So we did the right things, we talked to doctors and therapists, and took the experts’ advice on how to proceed. (what a fucking concept eh?)

Over several weeks, even months, we slowly started to tell everyone in our family and social circle. He ‘came out.’ It went well. Our extended family got on board fairly quickly, for the most part.

We thought we had it all figured out.

The WTF Surprise

For my wife’s part, she wasn’t sure what to do or say at first, but she soon locked in and became super mom. She works at a law office and immediately worked with one of the lawyers to get our son’s name change done.

My wife was doing everything she could to help our son. She is fucking awesome. I know she reads this, so I hope her eyes are watering (also, bring home beer).

So in the midst of our son’s transition, the scumbag governor of Iowa started to pass anti-LGBTQIA legislation, including at least one bill that would affect our son.

It didn’t take long. We all three decided in one evening “Fuck this state, we’re going to Minnesota.”

It really was that fast. Just like that, we planned it out. My job allowed me to work from home, and my wife started looking for jobs in the Minneapolis Metro area.

In the midst of this, my wife made a post on Reddit asking about any other families that were heading north (we were not alone). It turns out a certain reporter just happened to be browsing Reddit, looking for a story. That’s when it gets weirder. I mean, this became the weirdest experience of my life.

I get a phone call from my wife while I’m at work:

Wife: “Hey, so.. I’m getting interviewed by a reporter from the New York Times. He wants to talk about why we’re leaving Iowa.”

Me: “The fuck? are you getting scammed somehow?”

Wife: “No, this guy is a very real reporter with the New York Times.”

Me: “Uhhhhhh… ok, cool.”

So, she does the interview over the phone, and we don’t hear anything for a week or two. Meanwhile, we sold our house, and a few weeks on we’d be moving to Minnesota. We were packing up and making all the arrangements.

Then my wife gets a call from the New York Times reporter. His name is Trip Gabriel.

Wife: “He wants to come to Iowa and interview us while we’re packing up the moving truck…”

WTF?

“Sure, why not?”

He brought a photojournalist (Hilary Swift), and then they spent a few days with us asking questions and taking pictures. They both even spent hours, like several hours, helping us load the truck. Yes, a senior reporter and an independent journalist, both working for the New York Times, helped me move. We were arranging things on the truck, strapping things down. It was very bizarre the entire time. I kept thinking: why are the New York Times people helping me move so much? This is so weird.

We hung out, chatted, and had dinner. I still think both of them are some of the coolest people I’ve ever met. They both even visited us after we moved up to the Twin Cities to follow up. Shit, Trip even came to the ‘Back to school’ event with us. Everyone who saw us probably thought Trip was my son’s uncle or something. He was fun to watch as he reacted to the midwestern high school experience, something he was clearly far removed from.

Cut to several months later, and we were on the cover of the New York Times.

It was below the fold, but it was front and center!

The article was also featured online here: https://www.nytimes.com/2023/10/07/us/politics/politics-states-moving.html

Conclusion

We are glad we moved to the Great State of Minnesota. We have zero regrets. We’ve felt comfortable and welcomed as anyone could hope. We all have fully adjusted, and within months of arriving, my son even has his artwork displayed in the office of one of our state senators!

-

If you don’t understand what transgender means, that’s fine; you don’t have to worry about it. The only thing I would ask is to let everyone be. We did the right thing for our family and there aint a fuckin person on earth that could convince me otherwise. Transgender people, gay people, all LGBTQIA people, have always been around; they’ve just not always had a voice. They aren’t going anywhere so could you just be kind and worry about your own shit? That would be cool.

With the dumbest president in United States history, we’re all seeing a backlash against all LGBTQIA people, and honestly, if you aren’t a fat, rich, white man, you’re probably being targeted too.

All I ask is to have an open mind and don’t let some fat rich asshole or the media tell you how to think. Just be humble and kind, like Dolly says. Fuck, it ain’t that hard.

Happy Pride Month! Also, Happy Juneteenth (a day late)!

“Why don’t you let your kid just be the kid that they are?"

- Billie Joe Armstrong, Greenday

We went to Phoenix primarily to visit my wife’s grandmother. However, she is 82 and doesn’t exactly get out and bop around town a whole lot. So, in between visits to Grandma, we managed to have some mini adventures. Here’s how that went.

We stayed at a condo in Tempe, Arizona, right next to a Tesla dealership in a gated community. Once we figured out how the ‘automatic’ gates worked, It was a nice little spot (the gates were a whole thing and I don’t want to talk about it). The spot was perfect for my wife, son, and I to have plenty of room to stretch our legs. Our son Julien even got in the pool despite it only being 65 degrees out.

The first night we ate at a Barrio Queen, out on the patio. Here’s a pic from their google listing. I had a few libations and could not be bothered to take a picture.

After eating too many complementary chips and a large burrito, we headed back to the condo. Not before we made a quick stop at Hurt’s Donuts. We wanted to be prepared for breakfast, after all. While we were stopped there, we spotted a comic book shop. Julien and I took a look inside. It was a real comic book guy’s comic book shop. Chaotic, with tons of comics everywhere. There was even a guy livestreaming about, well, comics! Julien and I aren’t big comic nerds, but we do enjoy art, and comic book stores are a great place to browse anyway. I even found a new issue for my burgeoning collection of Swamp Thing Comics (I only own about eight issues).

The next morning, we took it easy. I laid around watching TV for a bit while Jennie went and got her nails done. Julien was, of course, sleeping. It’s his natural state.

Then we met up with Jennie’s grandmother and her boyfriend at “The Thirsty Lion.” It’s a gastro pub that seems to have several locations in the Phoenix area. I can’t remember what I ate, but I drank a decent ale that I took up heartily. After that, we spent a good deal of time back at Grandma’s house. We visited and helped with a few things. Their printer wouldn’t connect to the wifi (naturally), so I had to help with that. It turned out they needed a whole new printer. To my surprise, the new printer would arrive the next day (to be continued).

After leaving Grandma’s house, we went to a big local bookstore. I cannot remember the name of it, but it was in Tempe near a Goodwill. There, you get a scooby doo mystery if you want to find it.

Then, the weirdest thing happened. It rained. It rained hard. The average rainfall for the year in Phoenix is around 7 inches. It rained .63” over about a two-hour period. Even thundered a little. The rain must have been pretty isolated, though. Down in Gilbert, Grandma’s house had no rainfall at all. Still, I enjoyed it. Not every day you’re caught in a rainstorm in the desert.

After all that, we were pretty worn out and ended up just ordering a pizza from “Gus's New York Pizza.” I would say it was good, not great but I’m no food critic. We hung out at the rental condo and watched “Cellar Door,” a miserable movie in every respect. That was fine, we went to bed early anyway. We had a mission in the morning.

As George Harrison said, the sunrise doesn’t last all morning. That means you gotta get your ass outta bed if you want to see it rise from “Hole in the Rock,” which is a famous rock formation in the area that has a large hole at the top.

The view is not bad at all.

However, I’m sort of deceiving you with this picture. If you look closely, you can see the powerlines. There’s a giant powerline running right across the beautiful sunrise view. I edited it out with my phone. The sunrise itself was not edited at all. Here’s another picture from a few minutes earlier with the power line.

This is the kind of thing I would generally throw a fit about, but for my wife’s enjoyment, I kept my trap shut. It was a very good view despite it’s kneecapping by the local municipal power company.

My wife seemed to enjoy the trip. She has a special connection with Phoenix. She was born there. In fact, she held the record for being the smallest baby born in Arizona at the time of her birth. She was 3 months early and only 29 oz. She’s incredibly lucky to have made it.

After our little adventure, we went to Snooze Cafe over on the ASU campus. I highly recommend it for breakfast. It’s never disappointed us.

After breakfast, we took a short walk around campus. We saw this big mural, and I told my wife it would be fitting if she stood next to it for a picture. As you can see, it was still cold outside. It was actually colder in Arizona than it was in Minnesota that day. We should be travel agents for sure.

Another day, another meal with Grandma. Here’s Julien outside of yet another Mexican restaurant. It doesn’t matter which. I can’t remember. You don’t care anyway.

After lunch and a few beers, we had a new battle with the new printer. It was pretty easy to set up. When my wife’s Grandma got an updated internet router, it was not dual band, so it could not connect with a 2.4 GHz printer. HP was apparently still making printers that were only 2.4 GHz WiFi in 2018. Shameful, and yet another reason to avoid that terrible company like the plague. So, the new printer was easy to set up. While Julien and I were doing that, we were left on our own at Grandma’s house and decided a fun gag was in order.

So, we tested the printer. Their being a household that consumes Fox News like I consume peanut butter, we thought it only fitting to print a picture of the great Bernie Sanders and hide it as an easter egg. He’s been watching over Grandma’s Office ever since.

Over the years, we’ve had some issues with Grandma. We were all pretty anxious about this trip because of this sort of tension created by some of her views (You’ve seen this show before). We have vastly different political views that have caused quite a bit of tension over time. This trip wasn’t about that, though. Jennie has a small family. Her grandmother is getting very old. There were no arguments that needed to be won. The important thing was to be there. It was that simple, and we all actually behaved, even grandma (for the most part).

That night, Jennie and I took a Waymo autonomous Taxi to Four Peaks Brewing Company (Jesus, that’s the most millennial sentence I hope I ever form). The beer there was great. I had great company. What more can a fella ask for? We talked about whatever. I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. It’s been nearly 20 years with this gal, and I’m amazed she isn’t sick of me and my obnoxious nature.

The next morning, we headed back to Minneapolis. A few bumpy flights and a couple of Ubers and we were snuggled up on the couch with Ms. Eleanor Rigby, who had her own vacation staying with a couple that had two golden retrievers of their own and had a great time watching Ellie. There’s some really cool people in Minnesota, honestly.

New York. April 15th 2025

8 am. I’m awake. I throw my sweater on and head out the hotel door.

First stop: Brooklyn Bridge. I don’t bother looking at my phone. I know roughly where it is, only a few blocks away. It’s a cool bridge. I walked out and back, took a few pics, and said goodbye. A woman said someone had left a black bag behind. This made me nervous. All of the nightmarish movies flash through my mind, and I assume the bridge will blow. Dammit Run, I thought to myself. Careful now. It’s a long day ahead, and you’ve only got two feet.

I make it back off the bridge. My bus is there. After running to try to make the bus (I didn’t need to run, but you can never be too careful), I sat and relaxed on the upper deck. The topless ride wasn’t without its own worries, though. The traffic lights, goddamn, they’re so close overhead, they’d take a take man out.

The bus ride is like some kind of hodgepodge of every represented mediocre group from each country. I represented the lame Midwest of the United States, or so help me god. The attendant on the bus insisted: “You wear headphones, you listen!” At this point, I just assumed it was a hostage situation and I’d be cooked if I didn’t just put on the damned headphones. So there; I did. What utter shit these devices were spewing. Some kind of mid-nineties trailer starring New York City. I ripped out the headphones immediately, insulted on behalf of the city I just met.

I was dropped off at Pier 56. It was quiet. No one around. Just a few people roaming. I got my coffee; the buzz would build for hours.

There was a view of New Jersey and the Harbor. I found my way to ‘The Highline’ and proceeded to walk it. Slow down, I thought. Its not a damned race, enjoy it. So then I did.

There were plants and remnants of an old rail line from a train that used to pass through here. It’s quite an improvement from train tracks. But wait, what’s this?

Two men are blocking the high line with a barricade. Shit. A shakedown? Already? No. I’m an idiot. The high line was clearly under construction ahead, and I’d have to divert. I diverted. Down around through the lower west side of Manhattan, I wandered through the streets, stalking the high line for my way up. After several blocks, movers, pipe workers, delivery drivers, and all other manner of people who pump the blood of the city, they were doing what they always did. It seemed more like walking through a forest than a city, like they all belonged there.

I found my way back to the High Line. New York, you are beautiful. So many beautiful buildings, I had to just take a few pics and enjoy the rest. Can’t ruin every experience with a photo, just let it exist for that moment and move along to the next wonder.

“The Vessel” was there, the “Hudson Yard” was there, great. I found my way to the next bus stop. I hopped on. We pushed on through Hell's Kitchen, which actually looked quite nice despite its fear-giving name.

I’m dropped off north of Times Square. Fuck Time Square. Onward north to Central Park!

The only friend I made in New York City

I wandered into Central Park. The trees were just starting to bloom. There were men and women lined up on the side of the road with their horse carriages. These were city horses, though, and they looked serious. I didn’t approach.

I made my way to the bathroom in the park. People of every possible imaginable origin must use these same bathrooms. Like a kind of germ nerve center for the collective diseases of mankind. Their own personal time square for germs.

I found my way onto the big rock formations. You know the ones, from the movies? I don’t know which movies, but anyway. Oh, yeah. I had Reese’s in my bag. Great.

I pulled one out. What’s that? A squirrel approached me. Ah shit, he smells the peanut butter. I could resist. I threw a little piece to him. He loves it. He ran to his tree, climbed up, and enjoyed his Reese’s peanut butter cup. He was having a fine day in the park. A fine day indeed. I named him Reginald. He waited for me to give him another piece. Closer, closer. Ok, I don’t want to get a disease, so I stand up. Easy Reginald, Easy!

That was goodbye. We were friends once.

Fifth Avenue and the trouble with Weed stores

I decided I shouldn’t retrace my steps to the bus stop. Wait, why do that? I should explore further, take a loop.

I made my way instead to Fifth Avenue, where I’d walk down to The Travel Agency, a cannabis shop, take a look inside, and head back towards the bus stop.

The problem with weed stores is that they are all different. One only takes credit, one only takes cash, and another might only do debit and cash. Then there’s the ordering part. This place had touchpads in the middle of the store, which I inconspicuously didn’t notice, and I approached the counter. Strike one. “Sir, the line starts around there.” Sorry, I say, and walk around to where no one else is waiting.

I stood there, somewhat in a daze from the adventure so far. It was something. “SIR!!SIR!” I can help you down here. Oh shit. I made my way to the counter. “Can I have your ID?” sure, I said.

I handed it over. “Hmm.. what name is it under?”

“What?” I say.

“Your order…..” “Did you not order?”

“Oh, sorry,” I replied. Strike two.

I swiped away at the kiosk, knowing what I wanted. A drink. A cannabis drink. I quickly placed the order and proceeded to where the line forms. I know what I’m doing, after all.

I pay, everyone is thankful I’ve figured it out, and they wish me well on my way. Good-bye sweet prince.

The Final Leg

I now had two cannabis drinks and a bus stop several blocks away, where it would take me on the rest of our tour through the city.

On my way, I found a table to sit down at and drink my beverage. Good god, it’s Radio City Music Hall. Cool. So I sat there in the courtyard near Radio City and drank, relaxed, and reflected.

When I was a little kid, I once went to the top of the slide at the school across from my house. I had a compass. I looked east, hoping I’d see the Empire State Building. I lived in Iowa, in the middle of the country. It was pretty dumb, but I was really young and didn’t understand how big our world really was.

I headed to the bus. There was a line. Bummer. The conversation of the men behind me (really though, this is almost word for word):

“Hey man there’s a strip club and sports bar across the street.”

“Oh yeah?” said the other friend.

“Yeah bet I could go there and get the score to the big game, eh?”

“Ha, ha, yeah.”

“Bet it would take awhile.” He laughed. “I bet cinnamon would take at least an hour and a half to tell me the score of the game.”

Ok, now I laughed.

We finally boarded the bus. I’ll sit in the front. Shit, its covered by clear plastic. Shit, I can’t get an uncovered seat now. It gets hot. We bake in the sun as we pass under the Empire State Building. Should I be moved? It is a cool building, an icon. But yet, it’s just a building.

Finally, my stop. Chinatown. I head to the five points, or at least it looks like the five points. I haven’t followed up yet (It was). If you’ve seen Gangs of New York, you’d know the place I mean. No sign of Bill the Butcher, thankfully.

This city was cool. The vibe was right. It was springtime, and people were moving, yet they didn’t seem grumpy. Everything and everyone were just gliding and moving to the beat of the city. I feel like New York is itself alive. What else could this be? They’re all under its spell. I’m under its spell. There was every culture, every language, a collision of art of all kinds. Old historical buildings are smashed next to brand new experimental-looking skyscrapers. There’s old people, there’s young people. There’s lame people and crazy people. It’s majestic and it knows it.

I drop into a diner. It’s what I was hoping for, a proper diner experience. You can probably picture it.

I ate a great Philly cheese steak. Never mind that it’s not the food the city is known for. I have acid reflux bad sometimes, and New York Pizza isn’t worth it to endure that pain. Nevermind. Let’s move on.

I leave the diner and make my way back to the hotel. On the way, the vibe starts to shift. An old woman had fallen and hit her head. There were people taking care of her already. She was upset. Kind of made me feel a bit upset as well. Goddamn. Glad she’s ok. But then I started to feel like a guy was following me. Goddamn it. Weed paranoia is ridiculous because you know that you're being faked into being paranoid, but you’re shoved along for the ride anyway, like being forced to go to church.

The hotel is there now, dive inside. I made it. I get to the room and collapse in victory. I sit down at the computer immediately and write about my day. This was it.

I didn’t know if I was going to love the city, but, for one day, for what I saw, it was great.

Thank you for having me, New York. See you again soon.

I’m pretty familiar with the trails there, so I had a good idea of where I wanted to go. There was a nice flat stretch down a particular path, and that’s where I headed. The trouble was that there were just a few hilly areas I had to contend with before I got there.

The photos don’t do it justice, but for an amateur cross-country skier like myself, these were a bit tricky. Going up a hill isn’t so bad; it’s going down. Realizing that if I fell, I could easily hurt myself, I was being extra careful. One thing I learned was that this path might not have been the best to take for skiing. There’s gravel under parts of it, and it was peeking through just a bit in places, and my skis were catching a bit. But, I get tired of waiting for the right conditions, the right snow, the right temp, the right place. I decided I was going to make due. Nothing is ever perfect.

The other thing I realized was that my being trepidacious was not doing me any favors. By not committing and pushing through, It was making my skis more likely to snag on something. So, I learned to just commit already! It was safer to go faster and smoother along the path than just skittering slowly along at an uneven speed. So, after about 10 minutes, I got into the swing of things and really had some fun.

Then I got to the really flat spot I was hoping for and had a good time running up and down that for a good workout.

This long, flat stretch is only about 1/3 of a mile, maybe, but the snow was nice and smooth on this part of the path. I was cooking right along.

There wasn’t much in the way of scenery, but that’s ok. I was there to get a nice little workout and practice skiing. Overall, it was a success. It was about 10°F outside but after about 5 minutes, I was plenty warm. The crisp air just feels good when you’re working up some heat, like entering air conditioning on a hot July day. I’m anxious to get back out again soon.

We bundled up. It was going to be about 5 degrees outside with a little breeze. So we wore some layers. We both had two pairs of pants on.

After some beer and some brick oven pizza, we made our way to the Snow sculpting competition, which is kind of the main event of the entire celebration. There were plenty of people there, despite the temperatures. Every once in awhile, I’d see someone completely underdressed and it would make me cold all over. It was fun, but it was cold. I won’t act tough. Look at my face. I’m clearly cold. A couple took our picture and then we reciprocated (always nice when that happens.)

We got used to the cold. The insanely beautiful and cool snow sculptures made you forget that it was well below freezing.

Being around these amazing artists and watching them toil away in the cold. It was refreshing to see. Really kind of inspirational.

Also props to Stillwater for having art be the focus of the event. Any event that doesn’t feel 'commercial’ these days is fantastic in my book.

As I write this it is snowing outside! The next post should have some of the powdery stuff If we’re lucky!

It was a most excellent walk. It wasn’t a long hike, less than 2 miles. The time time of day was right, slightly cool, sun shining in the mid morning sky, which was painted with just the right amount of white clouds to show off the deep blue reflections from our atmosphere. I stared at the view below for several minutes. I mean, come on!

As we walked, I was trying to get some good pictures of the lake we were walking around. The trees block the view in many places, but they had their own charm.

When there was a gap in the trees, my wife and our pup waited patiently as I snapped some pictures, sort of mesmerized by all of the colors nature threw at us.

Towards the end of the walk we were reminded that we were, in fact, in nature, where things live. My wife was startled by a small snake at her feet and kind of hurried along. Ms. Eleanor didn’t even notice the slithering little creature (or there could have been trouble for that poor snake).

There were other hazards that were more passive. After all, this trail is shared with horses.

But some hazards didn’t come from animals at all. Beware the obnoxious Cockleburs! I really did not mean for this to happen.

They are kinda pretty in their own way.

Okay, but, not really…

Overall, it was a memorable walk. Ms. Eleanor says 10/10, would walk again. The next post will probably have a bit less color. Winter is coming. Thanks for reading (looking?)

The trip went great overall; I think we all had fun. I don’t have a ton of experience backpacking or really doing any kind of long-distance hiking, and I thought I’d spent enough time doing small day hikes to be ready for this trip. well…

We left on a Saturday afternoon and parked my car at the parking lot at Afton State Park. Our packs were loaded down and quite full. I carried everything up that I needed on the first trip; my friends left their day bags at the car to be retrieved later.

We made it to the campsite without any issues. I was winded from the hills though. To get to the campsite, you have to go down a fairly steep hill and back up an even longer hill.

We made a round trip from the car to the campsite and back three times over the trip because they kept their day bags in the car. No big deal, just a mile hike…

My friends had no trouble with this journey as they were in better shape than me. I’m about 40 lbs overweight. Physically, I had no trouble moving, I feel like I have fairly strong legs. The issue I kept having was that I would get winded easily. My cardio is just trash from not running enough and having a job that requires me to sit in a chair all day.

We had a good first night at camp. We all ate well, the campsite was nice (Lucky #13), and it fit all three tents without any problem. I slept well the first night.

The next day, we all took our day packs and did some hiking. This was a lot of fun. It was early September and green everywhere we looked. The trails were pretty well-kept and full of things to look at. We also were lucky to have damn near perfect weather. We ended up hiking about 9 miles that day and I didn’t even realize it.

Here are some pictures from the hike:

I felt pretty great after the hike, but I had trouble that night. For starters, I managed to burn my thumb on my cooking pot, something I’d never done before. That didn’t end up being a big deal but sort of soured my mood for a bit.

Then, since we had walked for such a long hike, I thought it would be a good idea to drink some Liquid I.V.. That sounds like a good idea, but this was the late afternoon and I had also kind of forgotten this packet of liquid I.V. contained caffeine and other energy supplements. As a result, I slept like absolute trash. I really don’t think I got any meaningful sleep that night. I’d also eaten too much beef jerky the night before.. lets just say I was having some tummy troubles and leave it at that.

The next morning I also realized I’d gotten a blister on my foot. The shoes I’d been wearing hadn’t really been tied well and I’d sort of forgotten that they gave me blisters. I should have brought a different pair of shoes entirely but chose not to wear those for some foolish reason. This was just plain stupid but the blister was pretty minor so it wasn’t much of a hindrance.

So now burnt, blistered, and tired as hell, we loaded up and made our way to the car. I huffed and wheezed as usual, but I realized that I was not feeling right. We were going to stay in a hotel that night and recover before going to see King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard at the Armory in Minneapolis. I was so exhausted that when we went out to lunch, I could barely eat. I ended up having to leave my friends for the night and sleep at home, not sure if I was even going to make it to the concert the next day. I had stomach trouble for a few hours and then ended up sleeping for 14 hours, only waking to pee a few times because I’m not 14 anymore.

The trip was still a great time. We are good enough friends that stupid things weren’t going to mess with our good time. I did meet back up with them and we were able to make it to the concert. It was a great time.

The trip was fun and had its ups and downs, but I learned some things. I need to earn the ability to do difficult things. The trip was a simple wake-up call. So, as lame as that sounds, that’s what I’m going to work on.

Thanks for reading!

“Ok, sure,” I replied to my wife… many times.

Since we moved to Minnesota last year, we’ve had a hankering to get up north and see Duluth and the area to the north. To anyone who’s been there, you know it did not disappoint.

My uncle has a cabin way up the shore of Lake Superior, past Grand Marais. We stayed there once when I was a child, so I had a fuzzy idea of tall trees and beautiful scenery.

My wife Jennie and I headed up to Duluth on a Thursday morning, just the two of us. When we got to Duluth, instead of lunch we decided that baked goods would be best. We stopped at Johnsons Bakery. They had excellent donuts and danishes. The apple turnovers were good but my wife didn’t care for how much of the crumbly pastry ended up in my beard and subsequently.. the car floor.

From there, we decided to just keep on driving and headed up to see Gooseberry Falls. It’s a short drive up the road from Duluth and totally worth the trip. There’s a gift shop with modern bathrooms and a nice set of trails. We took in the falls, got our pictures, and took a short hike through the woods before heading back to the car.

We had passed through two harbors on the way up, where I had spotted a small rock and gem shop. It was a really cool shop. I picked up a few little rocks while contemplating my need for a large ammonite.

Not to be rude, we assumed we better stop at the local brewery: Castle Danger! Well, it wasn’t dangerous, but the beer was good. I recommend the cream ale. Goes down well. The pastries, having digested some hours ago, we got some nachos from a food truck that was parked at the brewery. Great time and good weather. What more can you ask for in life?

We took to the highway and headed back towards Duluth. But I realized I should have taken the scenic highway. This was worth it. There were many stops along this highway that ran along the Lake Superior coast. We found the perfect place to stop and snabbed some pictures. Mother Nature thought it would be funny, and it started raining the moment we got out of the car. 7/10 joke, not bad.

Back in Duluth, we stayed at ‘The Inn on Lake Superior.” I was wondering why the room cost so much but once we got to the room I remembered I had booked a room with a balcony facing the lake. 10/10 decision, and I would do it again.

The rest of the evening was spent on Canal Park Drive. We hit up some shops and got some pizza at Vitta Pizza. Really good Neopolitan-style pizza. Not too heavy and went well with a good beer (Two Hearted Ale).

Day 2 was fairly unplanned. We were going to see about a train ride, but my wife mentioned that there was a boat to tour. It was not a ‘tour on a boat’ but a ‘tour of a boat.’ The William A. Irvin was an iron hauler converted into a museum with a self-guided tour. I don’t want to spoil any fun, but if you have anyone in the family interested in history or boats, take them and see this ship. It was a lot of fun!

Then, it was time to head north. We hopped in the car and headed up to Eveleth, where we had planned on golfing. We arrived a bit early, so we stopped at Boomtown for a nice meal. Food: 7/10, Service: 10/10, very nice people.

From there we took in 9 holes at Eveleth Golf Course. Truth be told, the wife and I just started golfing last year. We are quite bad. This course was a bit on the more difficult side for us. I won’t say how things ended up but I did get one bogey so that’s ok. We only lost three balls also, so that’s nice. We had perfect weather, perfect company, it was peaceful, what more could you ask for?

After Golf, we headed to Biwabik and checked in to our Airbnb. It was in a nice location, right in the middle of town. Perfect for the two of us to stage our campaign upon the North. Jennie loved the decor. Ok, I did too…

We had brought up some nice steaks to make up and had a good meal before settling in and watching “The Great Outdoors.” Still a great movie but not nearly as funny as I remembered.

Day 3 we had a mission. Jennie had been up to Ely, Minnesota as a child and happened to visit The International Wolf Center. I’d heard about this trip our entire marriage and so we decided while we’re up here, we better check it out. So we took off from Biwabik and headed north to Ely!

But wait, it was morning and we needed a pick-me-up, so we stopped at “The Hive” which was a cool coffee shop in Aurora that happened to be pretty much on our way to Ely. They had great coffee. A nice latte really hits the spot when you’re out adventuring.

The drive up to Ely was really beautiful. Even just off the road, the landscape was immediately photogenic.

We got to the Wolf Center at the right time. The wolves were making their rounds in their enclosure. They had a pretty decent space to run around and seemed really upbeat and chipper. I wondered if our dog Ellie would have fun with them.

We listened to a presentation about the wolves and learned a bit about how the wolves are cared for and how they adapt to being in this environment. It was pretty educational and very fun to see all the wolves interact with each other. 10/10 experience.

After the Wolf Center, we strode downtown and checked out a bookstore/outfitter/gift shop. I was on the hunt for a leather journal to start keeping a private travel log. You might think this newsletter should serve, but we both liked the idea of having something written down just for ourselves. Always write down your travels if you want to remember and relive them!

After that, we ate at the Boathouse Brewpub and Restaurant. I had the special (prime rib sammich, uhhh yum). After that, we decided we’d start heading back to our Airbnb and swing by some state parks we had passed on the way up.

First up was Bearhead State Park. The view of the lake below speaks for itself. It also looked like there was a pretty neat hiking spot that went by another nearby lake, but we were a bit tired for that. We did take a few pics of Bear Head Lake. It was gorgeous.

From here, we decided to check out Soudan and see about the underground mine tours. Unfortunately, they had flooding last year, so we had to skip that. We ended up driving around McKinley Park Rd to try to get a view of Lake Vermillion. We saw a little bit but got a bit lazy and never actually stopped (next time).

We ended the evening getting pizza from Vi’s Pizza in Biwabik. That was a fun experience for me. I walked up to the to-go counter, but the pizza wasn’t quite ready. I got to listen to a half dozen locals singing, cursing like sailors, and jamming out to Slipknot and Limp Bizkit. It was an unexpected treat.

The pizza was great but left us lethargic. So we settled on the couch for the evening and watched “Harry and the Hendersons.” It’s a perfect movie and I’ll fight anyone who disagrees.

We headed home the next morning. All in all, this trip was awesome. We weren’t stressed at any point and had a whole bunch of fun just letting the wind take us with not much planning involved. The best part was we realized there was so much more to do and see up north. I can’t wait to get back and explore some more. Thanks for reading!

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We had a great time Kayaking at Cleary Lake. Unfortunately things didn’t start off too great. We scoped the lake out a month prior to this trip and saw that there was a beach that rented Kayaks. “Great” we thought. We have our own Kayaks and thought we’d unload them there, it was a nice beach, easy to sit and wiggle into the water on the Kayak’s without getting wet.

We got our kayaks down to this rental beach and started getting ready. A girl working at the rental office immediately next to us walks over, places a sign in the ground and walks away without saying anything. I took a look at the sign she placed and it read:

“Beach for Kayak rentals Only”

Now, in this moment, I wasn’t too thrilled by the way this girl handled this situation (nor was my wife). But, being a big boy, I walked over to the girl who placed the sign and apologies and asked if there was a public boat launch spot. She said there was and pointed where we should have gone. “Whoops”, I said, “I didn’t realize that, is it alright if we launch from here today?” She said that was fine and we got ourselves launched without further incident. For reference:

Now me from 10 years ago had a short temper and I let things like this get to me. But since I’ve aged like a fine wine (Three Buck Chuck, if you will), I have learned to let things like this go.

So with that, we went off and enjoyed our time.

The water was calm as its a ‘no wake’ lake. Its really just the right size for a nice afternoon Kayaking trip. There was plenty of wildlife to see, which I wasn’t counting on!

There were actually quite a few people on the water but this didn’t seem to bother the birds too much. If people got too close they just flew a couple hundred yards and went back to whatever they were doing.

There were quite a few lily pads on the lake. This can sometimes make paddling difficult, but we avoided the pads mostly anyway. We didn’t want to disturb them or tear them up.

Most of the shoreline was wooded, which was really nice. There’s actually a walking path that goes all the way around the lake. You wouldn’t hardly know it from being on the water. This trip took place in early August so the vegetation was beautiful.

We had a lot of fun paddling around this lake. It’s great for a little day trip. There’s even a little creek you can paddle up a way, giving some variety to the paddling. We had such a good time we forgot about the spiders that were probably still crawling around in our boats.

If you like podcasts and have an interest in history, I gotta shamelessly plug my Podcast: Meridians. Find it wherever you get your podcasts! Or, you can subscribe to The Meridians Chronicle newsletter and get new content every week! Yay, history and stuff!

I knew Minnesota was big on its trails but, jeepers, they aren’t kiddin. Its amazing up here. Last year we rented a house and to my delight there was a path through the woods right behind the house we were renting. I started walking that regularly with the dog.

Then I noticed that there was a trail system to the north: Lebanon Hills. Its so close in town yet when you’re hiking through it you feel like you’re miles from the city and suburbs.

I’ve done 3 mile hikes, and 8 mile hikes, all kinds of hikes through that trail system and I never really bored of it. There’s so many different paths you can take that you can mix it up all the time. Also, you can learn pretty quickly which parts are more or less frequently visited by people (park off of Cliff Rd and take the paths to the west for fewer people).

Over off of Johnnycake Rd directly to the east there is also a nice trail that goes around the Mountain Biking trails as well. Its a pretty nice little trail to check out and there’s usually some Bikers (on separate trails) you’ll see zip through the trees.

But the trail system that takes the cake for me is the Murphy-Hanrehan trails just to the south west of Burnsville. That’s where I go hiking regularly these days.

It’s trail system has a great mix of meadows, trees, and water. I just really like the vibe out there.

I also stopped wearing headphones when I hike. I love listening to music or podcasts but, when hiking, it sort of subtracted from the experience. I mean, there’s plenty to look at, and the birds have a lot on their minds. It doesn’t hurt to hear what they have to say.

The trail itself is actually partly a shared trail, shared by horseback riders. This might make you shy away because of horse poo, but don’t let that bother you. It really isn’t that bad and doesn’t really smell. Also, you get the added benefit of running in to a horse occasionally, which is kinda fun. No pictures of horses because I don’t want to bother the rider (or the horse), they’re enjoying their time as well.

The trail system does have a few trails that can get a bit sloppy from time to time (what trail doesn’t?). And a few of the trails aren’t always mowed down well. But still, I go out there to run and walk, I’m not the most fit fella in the world either. But I still manage just fine.

I’ve found hiking to be a really great way to recharge and relax. If you work from home like I do, I highly recommend finding some good spots to go out and get away from it all. Be outside!

If you like podcasts and have an interest in history, I gotta shamelessly plug my Podcast: Meridians. Find it wherever you get your podcasts! Or, you can subscribe to The Meridians Chronicle newsletter and get new content every week! Yay, history and stuff!