Monthly Archives: September 2018

Ohsweken Speedway

Six Nations Territory, Ontario

The Curator, Brazil Lucas and I ventured into the Six Nation Territory in Ontario to watch some racing at Ohsweken Speedway.

It happened to be the Canadian Sprint Car Nationals weekend, which was no doubt purely coincidental.

The track was pretty dry and slick by the end of the night, but we saw some good racing.

The Americas Unite

What happens when the cool winds of Alaska meets up with the tropical breezes of Brazil, and a Yankee Clipper from New York State? I don’t know either, but we are about to find out. See you all in Eastern Canada!

”Now the Four Way Lodge is opened, now the Hunting Winds are loose,

Now the Smokes of Spring go up to clear the brain;

Now the Young Men’s hearts are troubled for the whisper of the Trues;

Now the Red Gods make their medicine again…

We must go, go, go away from here.

On the other side the world we’re overdue…”

—- Rudyard Kipling

Cheers, and by all means, Stay Beautiful!

Autumn in the Interior

“And all at once, summer collapsed into fall.”
—Oscar Wilde


Comic: The Far Side, by Gary Larson


For those of you who find amusement in our quick to change seasons: This morning we saw our first HARD frost of the season. It wasn’t our first frost, mind you, just the first one that killed tomato plants and left a thick layer on our windshields.

Grunts in the dark

I went outside the cabin late on Friday night to appreciate the changing of the seasons. It happens fast up here in the Interior. The moon was already setting, and the sky was lit up with stars. It was the first night of the season where the stars absolutely jumped out at you, demanding your attention. This time of year, it is always more pronounced, since it has been quite some time since the stars commanded the northern sky. It has also been quite some time since we had a sky free of clouds.

We would be getting a frost overnight, so I was about to drag the few plants I have under the cabin overhang. The lettuce had flourished all summer, and I wasn’t ready to give it up. The tomatoes and peppers struggled however, with the cool, wet weather we had.

Just as I grabbed one of the pots, I heard a grunting sound coming from behind me. I spun around, but could see nothing. I went back in to get my headlamp, and when I turned it on, the grunting returned in earnest, but still I had no visual on the source. I had immediately thought “moose”, but the sounds were not moose-like. They were also coming from low in the willows and fireweed, too low for even a young calf, unless it was lying down.

My cell phone started to ring, so I went back into the cabin. It was a neighbor calling to tell me that there was some strange animal about. “It grunted at me!” I told the neighbor, that it was in my yard now, and that I had been grunted at too. No, I don’t think it’s a moose. Yes, it could be a bear, but it didn’t sound like a bear either. I’ve been huffed at several times by various bears, even growled at, but never grunted at in such a way. I assured the neighbor that when I pointed the light in its direction, the grunts seemed to be more excited than aggressive.

At midnight, the novelty of the grunts had worn off, and I hadn’t heard them around the cabin for a while, so I started to get ready to turn in. Then I heard a truck come speeding down my driveway. There were the sounds of a door being opened and shut, and then came a pounding at the cabin door. I can’t tell you how rare that scenario is for me. When it comes right down to it, I don’t have many neighbors, and most are too smart to just pound on someone’s door without calling out first, especially at midnight.

At the door was a man I had never seen before, which made me even more suspicious. “Are you missing a pig?”, he asked. No, I don’t own a pig. It seems there was a pig at the end of my driveway. The man was quite excited, claimed the pig stood taller than his knees, and was hairy. He wanted to know if any of my neighbors had pigs. I honestly didn’t know if any had pigs, but it was certainly possible.

So, it was a pig of all things. I was happy the mystery was solved, thanked the man, and started to close the door. He stopped me, then asked what I was going to do about the pig. I told him that I had no intention of poking around the dark woods at midnight looking for a lost pig, if that was what he was getting at. The man then turned away, obviously disgusted at my lack of immediate concern. I came out onto my deck to watch the truck speed out my drive in reverse.

After the sound of the truck died away, I could hear the pig grunting his way down a trail through the woods.

I have to admit, life is rarely a bore up here.

Benny Benson Memorial

Seward, Alaska

Just off of the Seward Highway, across from the Seward Lagoon, is the little memorial to Benny Benson. As posted prior, a 13 year old Benson, won a state-wide contest for his design of the Alaska State Flag.


It’s a nice, simple tribute to the state’s flag designer. Which seems fitting, considering the simple, yet elegant design of the state flag.