"We Didn't Start the Fire" or "Great Balls of Fire" or "C'mon Baby Light My Fire"

Big changes on the horizon. Namely, new furniture, new clothes, new toys, new apartment.

Friday, June 19th, my apartment was engulfed in flames. Thankfully, I wasn't home, but was out fishing. Not so thankfully, just about everything inside was toast/bbq/burnt hot dogs. What wasn't burned to a crisp had pretty severe smoke/water damage.

The fire department got the 911 call from a neighbor at 7:35 pm, I had left at 6:30 pm, but since I was out fishing I didn't get the message on my cell phone until 9:05 pm or so, and at that point sped home. By the time I arrived at 9:30 pm, all the action was done (I know, I didn't even get to see the show) and it was a matter of giving an official report to the fire department and going into shock at the circumstances.

The thought is that somehow the fire started in the motor of the refrigerator; it's pretty rare for this to be a cause, but it's not unheard of. It was an older house with two apartments in it so there was sufficient old dry wood, ceiling tiles, carpet, etc. for the whole thing to go up like a tinder box. Once the FD had things under control it was determined that anything in the kitchen was a 100% loss, including hunting gear, boots, GPS, ammunition etc. that was stored in a closet. The bedroom which was off the kitchen was a total loss as well, so all of the clothing and some other furniture was gone too. In the other rooms, living room & office, anything electronic or near the walls was a loss, as well as most pieces of furniture. All in all, probably a 90% loss on my personal property.

Insurance has paid for me to be holed up in a Best Western for the last ten days as I've been apartment hunting/trying to get back on my feet/etc.

Luckily, I did have renter's insurance, so there will be a check coming from the insurance company shortly which will help me begin to replace some of the things I lost. I've made some progress with apartment hunting and will move into a new place later this week (hopefully).
All the "stuff" that you accumulate over the years can be replaced, and it will be nice to upgrade the electronics and wardrobe. The insurance process has been tedious but I'm glad it's there and the adjustor seems to be decent enough to work with.

Long story short: this would be a hell of a lot worse to try to deal with without insurance. Granted it could have not happened (the preferable option), but it did, and the only option now is to move on, replacing the items I had that I need to replace, and living without the other ones. One thought is that this will make things alot easier the next time I move.

And it may not be the worst thing to re-gear for the second decade of the 2000's with a simpler, more efficient, utilitarian set of possessions.

Remedy

Today was one of those days -- you know the type, the type that keeps going and going and going. There was production -- don't get me wrong, things were getting done -- but when I finished at 5:45 there were more things on the list than when I started at 7:00.

The solution? Seeing as how a half bottle of whiskey isn't really a good call for a Wednesday; the only solution was to grab the fishing pole and head out for the first time this season. Now the fishing is good in this neck of the woods, good enough that "out-staters" (yes, you Madison & Milwaukee types, I am talking about you) regularly spend vacations in these parts with the sole purpose of spending their week of vacation in a boat.

I try and take advantage of that fact, and am hoping to spend a bit more time out on the lake this summer than I did last year. I realize I won't be located up here forever and am trying to focus on capitalizing on the assets of the locale. I still find it remarkable that within five minutes I can be the only person in a county forest, or the only one out on a lake. And since I am always traveling the area for work, I often stumble upon new spots to go check out.

So fishing, yes, I was doing it, for the first time this year.

Within fifteen minutes I was at a secluded spot (only three wrong turns later) wetting the line in Bear Lake. It was quiet in that odd way that it is when bullfrogs and birds are making all the noise they could possibly muster. But since you cannot hear the sounds of modern man, it is as quiet as it ever could be. Bald eagles were out and about soaring above, and I even caught a few fish in the clear water; so all in all a success, and just the remedy I needed after a day that offered just one too many new tasks.

I think that our Wisconsin forefathers would have been proud, as there I sat, rod and reel in hand, clad in a flannel shirt and a Brewer's ball-cap, drinking a can of Miller, watching the birds up above, and the fish down below.

The Cool of the Evening

Yeesh, after a nine-week sabbatical (the muses just weren't talking okay?) there's finally something of note to blog about. Well, not really, I've passed by many opportunities in the last couple months to get a quick post in, including: the first day of Spring, opening day of baseball season, a work trip to St. Louis/Kansas City, and more that I'm sure I'm missing, but that's life.

Just got an evening walk in and had to post about one of my favorite Spring rituals (well, all season really, but that much better in the Spring) -- the late dusk stroll. Those of you who know me well will attest that I have always been a walker. Whether it was ducking out of the dormitories at 1 AM to blow off some steam, or taking an indirect route back from the library or work, I've always been a fan of the evening walk as a way to recollect and (sometimes) make sense of the passing day, while refocusing for the upcoming one. It's also one hell of a way to try and work out a problem rolling around the brain. The Spring is an especially good season to be out though. There's that hint of freshness in the air as things are greening up again, a bit of light in the air as the sun has recently set, and an ideal temperature that calls for only a light jacket. It was a good way to stretch the muscles, clear the head after a rough Monday, and get a grasp on the coming week ahead.

Meaningless topic? Undoubtedly. Let's hope this spells the return of regular musings though. I'm hoping for a summer of documenting life in the Northwoods with some suprises thrown in for good measure.

Oh, and I ran a half-marathon this weekend, but more on that later. I'm still trying to gather my thoughts.

Giga-waabamin minawaa.

The Mallard Lodge

Rice Lake has gotten 12 inches on snow in the last six hours...and it is still coming down pretty heavily. I like winter as much as the next guy, but it's when I stumble across pictures like the one below that I could go for a nice fall hunting day.


And I don't mean a late-November deer hunting day where it is 15 degrees, but rather an early-October bird hunting day where the sun is shining, the multi-colored leaves are bright, and the temperature is 70 degrees.

Soon enough, soon enough.

Dispatch from the Birkie

I headed 45 miles north yesterday to Hayward, WI for the 36th annual racing of the American Birkebeiner cross-country ski race. The 54 km race had over 7,000 participants, and it was reported that another 15,000 were on hand as spectators. To put these numbers in perspective, the population of Hayward is only 2,100 people.
The annual event is a highlight of the Northwoods calendar, and I now understand why.

I pulled into town about 10:20, parked the car, and hustled over to the finish line (basically, they dump a few feet of snow onto main street, and cordon it off) just in time to see the winner cross in 2 hours 11 minutes. The womens race featured the sort of photo finish you see only in movies, with both racers neck and neck across the line, with a video review needed to determine the winner.

Judged on the number of participants, this is the largest ski race in North America. There were skiers competing from 48 different states and 21 countries. A 12-time Norwegian Olympic medalist (including 8 golds), Bjorn Daehlie, also competed, which is pretty damn cool. As contestants finished, the announcer would read their name and hometown. He was dropping Russias, Slovakias, Norways, and Swedens all over the place, in addition to basically any state that gets snow at least once a year.

Those that were on hand as spectators seemed to be having a blast. Exhibit A being the number of bloody marys and cold brews being consumed at 10:30 am while watching skiiers cross the finish line. In talking with some folks it seems that Saturday night is quite the party. I can imagine it being so, especially with the trans-national/international flavor to things.

I didn't stick around past the afternoon, but I'm half-tempted to pull a group together next year and make a weekend of it (don't worry, no delusions exist about myself or any of my beer-guzzling compatriots being able to complete a 50+ km cross-country ski race). Anyone game?

Oh, and lest people begin to think I am photographically talented, the pictures in this post were poached from various news articles about the event as nothing I took did the event any justice at all for what it was.

This is gonna be one rockin' summer

Spring training has officially started. And after a four hour wait in a "virtual line" on the Chicago Cubs web site I bought tickets for the Minnesota Twins - Chicago Cubs series at Wrigley Field.

Anyone else ready for summer?

Best Sport....Ever

I had nearly forgotten about the great sport of Cricket until I stumbled upon something titled "International warfare on a ball field" while wandering though the interweb this afternoon. If you're not familiar with the glories of this sport, check the link out.

I was first exposed to Cricket in a London airport while watching tv waiting for a bus on my first day in the United Kingdom. I had a chance to view the sport live a few times over the subsequent months, as well as to be exposed to it daily on television and on the Sports pages of the newspapers.

I also had a chance to play the sport a few times as well, and honestly, have no idea how to even describe those experiences. Other than to say that it was one hell of a good time.

In summary, England creates a sport and exports it to the colonies it would take men, resources, and goods from over the next 250 years. Fast forward to the twenty-first century and said countries kick England's arse in cricket every year.

Giga-waabamin minawaa.