Closed for the next ten days

This normally sparsely populated area is full of people today. Driving throughout the forests and countryside the roads are full of trucks pulling trailers with ATV's, their drivers' heads cloaked in that ubiquitous shade of orange which can mean only one thing: deer season.

I had a work meeting at a country cafe in the tiny village of Glen Flora, population 92. We waited for a table - this has gotta be the only time of the year that ever happens.

The parking lot at the grocery store: full. I waited through a cycle of three red lights before making it through the intersection. By far the closest thing Rice Lake will ever see to a traffic jam.

It's not a bad thing in my mind though. A nice late-fall booster shot for the local economy, and it is kind of nice to live somewhere that other people want to be - even if it is just for nine days.

All the local shops, restaurants, and bars have "Widow's Weekend" specials advertised for those left at home while their spouses head to the forests. Nevermind that females are the fastest-growing part of the hunting population.

Two interesting contrasts: the sports shop, normally closed at 5, open till 9 -- and the vaccum repair shop, closed for the next ten days.

Happy Hunting!

Eve of the deer season

It is the eve of one of the highlights of life in Wisconsin - northern Wisconsin, especially: the advent of Wisconsin's tradition-steeped annual deer hunt.

For most Wisconsinites, the annual hunt is about more than just the pursuit of a trophy rack or venison for the freezer, it is about other less tangible things. Things such as re-uniting with family and friends at the trailer without plumbing on a 40-acre spread of forestland, or returning to the plot of land which an ancestor purchased for either recreation or in an attempt to make a new go of things. It's about returning to the bond with the land that is undeniably a part of our very being, however many generations we are removed from it. That bond that lets you know that although you have the opportunity to take from the land the land also has an opportunity to give. As one city-bound friend put it: "sitting in the woods during deer season is that one time each year when I have a chance to really think about things."

And that's true, the solitude and quiet of the forest is a powerful thing. So the annual hunt is about many things to many people, for some meat and the pursuit of trophy; for others an annual respite from all else, a reunion with friends and family; still for others a chance to recollect and reconvene with nature.

For me, I think it comes down to the relationship with the land and the opportunity to be reminded that although I am no longer in a position to be dependent of the land for every meal - not all that long ago, my ancestors were - and what a unique bond that is.

Giga-waabamin minawaa

This phrase probably requires some explanation. Giga-waabamin minawaa is Ojibwe (Chippewa, or Anishinaabe) for "I'll see you again." Interestingly enough, there is not a word in the Ojibwe language for goodbye. Rather, the standard phrase was Giga-waabamin minawaa or I'll see you again. So it does seem fitting to end a correspondence in that way.

For those of you unaware, there is a large Ojibwe Indian reservation North of 8: Lac Courte Oreilles - or Lake Short Ears. An interesting place, I know some good people there, and some of the other variety as well. But you have that anywhere. I'll have to share the origin legend that the Ojibwe attribute to their arrival in Wisconsin; it's a good tale. But not now, some other time.

Giga-waabamin minawaa.

Origins

In Wisconsin lore, and most likely in fact too, U.S. Highway 8 marks a sort of demarcation point in the state. Supposedly, the road marks the line in the state where economic livlihood becomes, not impossible, but markedly more difficult. I suppose that could be the case - a disproportionate number of people are involved in practices that are tied to the land. Some in farming, most in logging. Life in such trades can at times slog along at levels just a share above subsistence - especially in a failing economy and in an environment in which building has slowed down considerably.

It is not just economics though. According to some, Highway 8, also marks a line in behavior in the state. To the southern Madison-Milwaukee belt of elites, "up-norders" have little knowledge of the finer things. I think, that rather than ignorance, it is just a choice to pursue a different set of finer things. Things like a crisp fall morning, mist rising off the water, and a sunset unspoiled by the hues caused by air pollution. Still, generalizations.

And so, this blog, in addition to a regular (semi) accounting of life, will also delve into an investigation into life "North of 8." I hope to discuss the history and lore of the area, as well as ruminations on the finer things described above.

Giga-waabamin minawaa.