In the Wintertime

I was a big Steve Miller Band fan when I was in high school.  Songs like "The Joker" were popular at that time.  He was born in Milwaukee and attended the University of Wisconsin. He had another song, "Winter Time," that always sent a chill down my spine.

"In the winter time
When all the leaves are brown
And the wind blows so chill
And the birds have all flown for the summer
I'm callin', hear me callin', hear me callin'."

I had mixed feelings about winter as a kid living in the city.   We spent time outside, but not really in nature.  Winter in the city is different.  Entertainment often involved snowball fights.  Some of the bolder kids learned to loft snowballs towards passing cars or even at streetlights.  

One time, when I was in the eighth grade and on my way to school, a driver erroneously believed that we had thrown a snowball at his car.  He came careening around the corner, pulling across the center line to the curb, where I was standing with friends.  He rolled down the window and pointed a gun at us.  His girlfriend urged him to put the gun away, and he did, driving away.  We never said a word to anybody about that. 

In the country, winter is dead quiet.  I'll take Callie outside just before bedtime and listen to the sound of nothing.  If we're lucky, we hear an owl hooting or coyotes yipping in the distance.  

 In the prairie above the Lodi Marsh, the natural world opens up.  There are no distractions.

This is the last week of winter break.  Allie will be heading back to Milwaukee to begin her job hunt.  I've enjoyed her company and appreciate her willingness to care-give for Justin, while he's been home.

I turned 59 this past week.  We celebrated with a minced lamb dinner at my favorite new Middle Eastern restaurant in Sun Prairie.  When you're growing up, you never imagine yourself as 59 years old.  It kind of sneaks up on you.  

They say that you are as young as you feel.  Most days, I feel pretty young.  Callie helps.

The Weather Outside is Frightful

A friend of mine asked me this week if I was getting tired of hiking the same old trails in my area.  I don't really get tired of hiking Ice Age Trail segments.  As the weather and seasons change, so does the trail.  There are always new things to see and experience on the same paths through the woods or prairie. 

Having said that, there are things that get in the way of my enjoyment of local trails.  Today, it was the weather. We've had a stretch of very cold weather, resulting in frozen ground.  When it started raining today at 33 degrees, the rain immediately froze when it hit the colder ground. By the end of today's walk, Everything was wet, slippery, and frozen at the same time.  Not much fun.

Yesterday was Muscle Clinic Day.  Except for a couple of years when Julia volunteered to take my place, I've accompanied my son Justin through this annual gauntlet of health care providers and tests since he's been about four. 

In the morning, he had a pulmonary function test, spine x-ray, echo cardiogram, and vein-poking (blood tests).  In the afternoon, we saw multiple specialists in the areas of pulmonary, physiatry, cardiology, orthopedics, neurology, neuropsychology, occupational therapy, physical therapy, nutrition, education, respiratory therapy, social work and power wheelchairs.  Whew, it was a long day for everyone. 

In general, Justin stays in a room, and the doctors individually come to him. In theory, it's a great idea.  In practice, it sometimes doesn't work that way.  We sat alone for an hour at one point because one doctor didn't tell the next doctor that the room was available.  They all assumed that Justin was busy. At another point, there were at least six different specialists in the room while a tech took an EKG and installed a Holter (heart) monitor).  It was a little bit crazy, and we were relieved to be done. 

You might wonder why Justin needs all of these services.  There are times I wonder why also.  There is no cure for Duchenne's muscular dystrophy.  The only effective treatment is a high daily dose of prednisone or deflazacort which delays the progression of the disease, which is a breakdown of all muscle tissue.  Dystrophin is the glue that holds muscle fibers together, and his body doesn't produce dystrophin, due to a genetic deletion or error.  This adversely affects just about every major system in your body, which is why he sees all of those specialists.

There have been drugs and gene therapies which offered promise of a cure or partial cure, but none of these have panned out.  So Justin takes it day by day and mostly does his part to optimize a difficult but still rewarding life. He maintained his grade point last semester and will be back at college again in another couple of weeks.

If Justin does well with math and science requirements this spring, he plans to apply for a disabled-friendly summer school course that takes place in Yellowstone National Park.  There are a lot of hurdles to clear, but there is a path forward, as they say.  The first step is to successfully complete his coursework.  

New Year: Optimization

My wife Julia turned 59 in December.  In some ways, she's in better shape now than she was in her 20's.  This year she has resolved to enter six races to celebrate her 60th year.

Julia has been listening to a podcast series about preparing for retirement.  One of the exercises is to pick a word theme for each year.  Julia has picked "transition."  I spent about two seconds on the idea and picked optimization, which is defined as "the action of making the best or most effective use of a situation or resource."  In retrospect, I may have been hasty; my word seems harder.  

This morning, we hiked up Gibraltar Rock to celebrate the new year.  There is an organized hike this afternoon.  There will be hot chocolate and cookies.  Several hundred people (and many dogs) are likely to attend, so we beat the rush.  We saw only three other hikers and no dogs.  That's a good start for optimization. 

Christmas in Lodi, Wisconsin

After several weeks of weirdly warm temperatures, including a 50 degree Christmas, winter has returned, delivering a fresh coat of white.  Today, we saw a winter wonderland. 

Goodbye 2019.  Hello 2020.

Commencement

In line for diplomas (Allie at bottom looking up)

This past weekend, my daughter Allie graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, majoring in business marketing and minoring in global studies.  We adopted Allie from China just before her first birthday. She will surely encounter bumps ahead as she makes her way through life, but Allie has the determination (stubborn streak) to prevail.

Our extended family celebrated at a Brazilian grill in downtown Milwaukee. Just getting everyone to the ceremony and the restaurant was a challenging task.  The grandparents are getting up there in age, and all have mobility issues.  Julia's dad needed a wheelchair.  He's still able to walk but not long distances as was required this day.  Julia's stepdad, Bob, took the day off from his assisted living center, and was driven down from Appleton by Julia's brother, Scott.

Scott with his back to the wall on the left

Scott survived a brain aneurysm as a young adult. Scott was in an induced-coma for months.  The road to recovery was a long one and left him with some residual physical issues. During recovery, he went through a divorce and could not return to his job as a multi-color printing press operator.  Still, Scott never lost his lust for life, music, and good times.  He found a new occupational path, working part-time security and ushering events.  Scott's story is one of resiliency. His passion is music.

My parents don't travel well in the winter, so they weren't able to come from Iowa.  My dad was a professor for many years at UW-Milwaukee, and my mother received her doctorate there, so they are well-acquainted with the ceremony.

We had a good time at the restaurant.  None of us had eaten at a Brazilian grill before.  There's an extensive and rather fancy salad bar that even included marinated quail eggs.  Then the servers bring skewers of different kinds of meat to each table, where they slice off pieces for you to grab with your tongs.  Julia was quite enthusiastic.

Earth Tones

  Rowan Creek Fishery Area

As the photo above shows, we hiked this week to Rowan Creek Fishery Area.  Located near Poynette, Wisconsin, this state-owned property isn't very far from our house, but we rarely hike here because it's heavily utilized by hunters and has less defined trails.

Things started out well with a nice wide trail. Another reason that we don't hike here is that it's usually wet and muddy.  Fortunately, the trail was mostly frozen this day.

Eventually, the trail narrowed until we were clearly following a deer trail.  And then it ended in a thicket between two tributaries of the creek.

Slack's Hill (Ice Age Trail)

It seems that our months of November and December have flipped.  We had lots of snow in November, yet the first half of December has been gray with scant amounts of snow, sprinkled with freezing rain. Nights have been cold, however, and the snow-making equipment in Wisconsin's mountainous regions has been busy.  

What?  You say that Wisconsin doesn't have mountains?  In the center of the photo above, you can make out the ski runs at the ominous-sounding Devil's Head resort.  This is the Baraboo range, a buried mountainous area 25 miles long by 5 miles wide containing rocks that are 1.5 billion years old.  Highly eroded over the years, the Baraboo range reaches current elevations slightly over 1000 feet.

Plans

The big development for the week is that Julia and I have decided where we will take our winter trip.  We're committed because we bought airline tickets, but we don't have any place to stay yet.  It's always a little unnerving for a frugal guy like me to attach money to travel plans without knowing for sure that my son will have care-giving and will be in good standing to continue school.  Justin is often confident that things will be all right, but that confidence isn't always well-placed.  

As an example, this week, Justin texted us this photo:

A few things immediately stood out to us.  No, it wasn't that Justin was playing laser tag in his power wheelchair.  It was that his power wheelchair was located in Madison, Wisconsin. You might ask why that matters.  Well, Justin lives in the dorms at Wisconsin-Whitewater.  Justin doesn't drive, so his wheelchair van lives with us.  How did Justin get to Madison, Wisconsin?

Several of his buddies picked Justin up out of his wheelchair and put him into the seat of a large SUV.  Then, they picked up Justin's 400 lb power wheelchair and tipped it over onto its side so it would fit in the back of the large SUV to take him to Madison.  This is not in the wheelchair manual for recommended transport.

Fortunately, Justin had fun, and the wheelchair made it both ways without apparent damage.  If I had any hair left, things like this would turn my hair white.  He could have asked us to transport him back and forth, which we could have done with some planning, but Justin is the spontaneous sort. I guess that I was too when I was 20, but I wasn't texting photos of my risky choices to my parents. 

Assuming Justin is heading back to school next January, we will be adding a new continent to our list of travels.  I had to look it up to be sure, but that's enough of a teaser for now. 

Humble Pie with a Side of Mud

As readers to my blog already know, the Gibraltar Rock Natural Area is one of my favorite places to hike.  It's the baby brother hiking destination to Devil's Lake State Park, which is on the other side of the bluff in the photo above-- across the Wisconsin River.  Devil's Lake draws three million visitors per year.  If I see a couple of people on a weekday at Gibraltar Rock, it feels crowded.  Gibraltar Rock is a ten minute drive; the state park is about 45 minutes drive.

Gibraltar's Rock's trail rises to an elevation above 1200 feet.  That's nothing for people used to mountain ranges, but it's a big deal in the Midwest. Yesterday, hiking conditions were fluid.  The snow was mostly melted.  The ground has been freezing overnight.  The sun softens up the sunny part of the trail during the day, while the shady parts remain firm.

  I tend to be a fast hiker.  I've always been a fast walker. Thru-hiking the Appalachian Trail during my younger years taught me a lot about foot placement that became ingrained over the years when covering terrain.

I was feeling at the top of my game yesterday.  Callie and I cruised to the top and then jogged down the back side.

Fearless Callie

 After power walking up the old closed road, we took a few minutes to sit and enjoy the view.

I admired the old cedars, hanging out at the edge of the 200-foot sheer cliff and thriving.  We took off fast down the trail back to the truck.  I guess I was daydreaming about future destinations when Gibraltar Rock reminded me to take her seriously.

I was walking on a frozen leaf-covered trail when my left foot slid on a soft spot exposed to the sun.  No problem.  I've caught my balance many times in similar situations.  Unfortunately, my right foot was no help, as it was sliding too.  My body was out in front of my sliding feet.  Suddenly, I was flying through the air on my way to a face-plant on the trail.

There wasn't much I could do at this point, but I did manage to twist my body so that I landed on my side, which slid through about six feet of soft mud.  When I came to a stop, Callie looked up at me as if to say, "What was that?"  I picked myself up, established that nothing was broken, except my pride.  My left side was covered with mud from my shoes to the top of my hat.

I would have taken a picture, but my hands were full of mud with no way to clean up.  Let's be honest.; there was no way I was taking a photo.  I trudged slowly back to the truck, drove home and threw everything into the washing machine.

Today, my body sore, Callie and I hiked on city sidewalks.  Maybe we'll head back into the woods tomorrow.