Day 26: Sept 28, 2026. Canada! Here we come.

It was time to say goodbye to Minnesota and the spot we camped for a week at Lynn's house. It is always sad to part but we must keep moving. I got up and prepared my comments for the proposed roadless rule rescission and got them uploaded before we went to say our goodbyes. (You, too, can make comments. It is very simple. Go to https://morethanjustparks.com/roadless-rule/ and click on comment. A series of questions with multiple choice are presented. Easy.) Before turning the front yard back over to Lynn, we returned her car keys which she graciously loaned us for the week so that we could travel to all the family gatherings. It is a nice car. A 2020 Toyota RAV 4 hybrid. It has all the newer technology and dutifully warns you when you are drifting out of your lane. 

We made a stop at the hardware store in Pine City because I like this place. The have all kinds of stuff.

And they had some good magnets worth purchasing 

This was in the window and captures a chaotic hunting family. I thought it was humorous.

Less than an hour into our trip, the fog in Pine City gave way to a bright, sunny day. We detoured into Moose Lake to fill up our propane tank—we needed it, taking on six gallons. It’s comforting to know we’re heading out with a full tank.

We tootled down the road enjoying the fall colors just starting to turn as we made our way north to Thunder Bay, ON Canada. The motorhome doesn't have the fancy technology the RAV4 has so I substituted my own voice whenever Kasey drifted out of his lane. I had to give that up because I would not have been able to get any reading done 

After Duluth, we started to see the lake. The clouds made each picture different.

Our route took us along the north shore of Lake Superior. The native Americans called the lake Gitchie-Gami or Great Lake. We passed the time by reading and playing music. It is a pretty drive and passes through many small tourist towns. It was a bright and sunny day. Even though it was a Monday, there was plenty of people enjoying the weather and the beautiful scenery.

We stopped along the way for a break and Tad and I walked around. A disgusting looking blob was on the ground and I said to myself "What is that?" I suspected it was a fungus of some type but had to be sure and so I touched it lightly to confirm its gelatinous feel before instinctively retracting my hand. Mental note to wash hands before continuing the journey. 

We made are destination in good time but lost an hour as we moved into the Eastern time zone. Our border crossing was uneventful but the attendant informed me that I needed to sign my passport. We have been to and from Mexico with that passport and no one mentioned it.

Our camping spot is at the Loch Lomond Ski Area. It isn't operating of course, but still available for Harvest Host guests. I saw a few bicyclers and hikers so I believe it is still available for recreation. We had the parking area to ourselves.

I took Tad for a walk while Kasey cooked some chile. Since this is a new area, Tad quickly discovered the local flora hitchhikers: the Devil's Beggarticks. These things stick easily to clothes too, so we both brought them back to camp. I spent almost an hour working to get these little bastards out of his fur.

With dinner ready, I decided it was time to stop torturing the dog and give him a break. He was eager to find a spot away from me and my busy comb.

An excellent and filling dinner was served by a most friendly chef. This establishment really serves some delicious food at a very inexpensive price. After dinner, we played a game of cribbage as the sun disappeared for the day. Another Harvest Host guest quietly arrived and set up near us. I guess we are not the only ones here after all 

We are far north yet the night is still a comfortable temperature. 

We are not sure where we will be tomorrow. It is not the destination that matters, but the journey.

Day 25: Sunday, 9/27 Perfect Timing

Today was our last full day in Minnesota, and the morning began with a lot of clouds. and, for me, a fair amount of trepidation about how to make the most of these final precious hours with my family.

Once again, I woke in the wee hours of the morning thinking about our plans for the day.

Ash and the family were facing a two-hour drive each way to meet Nick, Lys and the kids and us for our planned adventure. I was concerned about her making yet another long trip north and trying to coordinate everything with seven kids and Orion. I texted her and told her not to feel any pressure to come. We would completely understand if they couldn't make it.

We were up before 7 after Tad announced that morning had officially commenced. I spent more than two hours updating the blog while Janice worked on her computer.

Then Nick texted.

He and the kids were up, and Alice really wanted to go to Stillwater. He also told us that the folks who own an Airbnb cabin that Lys regularly cleans had generously offered to let them use the cabin that evening. We could have dinner there and finish our last night together around a campfire.

Nick texted Ash, and she said that Orion and at least some of the kids would meet us in Stillwater around 1 p.m.

Suddenly, it all seemed perfect.

We jumped into my sister Lynn's car and headed out. Lynn has always been incredibly gracious to us. Not only can we boondock at her house, she loans us her car so we don't have to take the motorhome on all of our adventures with the kids and grandkids.

She is an angel.

Janice wanted to get her hair cut, so we stopped in Pine City. While she was getting her haircut, I filled the car with gas and made a quick trip to the store. By the time I finished, Janice came out and we were ready to roll.

We arrived in Stillwater around 1:30. Nick, Lys and the kids had already spent about 45 minutes at Teddy Bear Park and were eating the lunch they had brought. Ash, Orion and their crew had just arrived and were getting their lunches out, too. Odin and Ike had decided to stay home because they needed some downtime, and I was actually relieved that they felt comfortable doing that rather than feeling pressured to come.

Everyone could simply do what was right for them.

I had promised ice cream, so after lunch our entourage headed down toward the St. Croix River.

Stillwater is a beautiful old river town, and our parade of 14 people walked and talked our way toward the ice cream shop.

We stopped at Minnesota Nice Cream. Two teenage boys were working behind the counter, and with our group it took a while for everyone to study the choices, change their minds and finally decide what they wanted. Watching everybody enjoy their treats was half the fun.

Even Tad got a little pup cup.

Afterward, we walked across the historic lift bridge and crossed the St. Croix into Wisconsin. Fortunately, despite my purple-sleeved Oregon Norsemen shirt, I was neither accosted nor publicly shunned by any cheeseheads while on Wisconsin soil.

The younger kids did remarkably well on the long walk, and after crossing back into Minnesota, we finished our Stillwater expedition with a trip to a park high on the bluff overlooking the town and river.

The view was spectacular.

The first fall colors were beginning to show across the landscape, hints of what was still to come after we headed east.

The younger kids discovered the merry-go-round, and that became the main attraction. Nick, Janice and I took turns pushing them around and around as they laughed with pure, unrestrained glee.

Eventually, though, the afternoon began slipping away.

It was time for Ash, Orion and the kids to make the long drive home. We hugged everyone and told them how grateful we were for all the time they had made for us during our weeks in Minnesota.

Then we watched them go.

Nick said he would pick up Papa Murphy's pizza for dinner at the cabin, while Janice and I headed back to the motorhome to gather some firewood.

The cabin on Pokegama Lake is about halfway between Lynn's house and Nick and Alyssa's home, making it the perfect gathering place for one last evening together.

When we arrived, the pizza had just gone into the oven.

And the sun was setting over the lake.

Perfect timing.

The golden light reflecting across the water was breathtaking. After a day that had begun beneath gloomy clouds and drizzle, Minnesota seemed determined to give us one final gift.

Janice and I unloaded the firewood and arranged our chairs outside, and then we all went into the cozy cabin for pizza.

After dinner, we gathered around the campfire.

All three kids seemed completely immersed in the experience, the fire, the lake, the darkness settling around us and, most importantly, our time together.

There wasn't anywhere else we needed to be.

There wasn't anything else we needed to accomplish.

We were simply together.

And then, all too soon, it was time to go.

Alice, our eight-year-old granddaughter, was very sad that we were leaving Minnesota.

"Why do you have to live so far away?"

That about broke our hearts.

There really isn't a good answer to a question like that.

We hugged everyone one more time and stood there watching as they pulled away. Then we followed them down the dirt road toward home.

Above the fields, a nearly full moon was rising into the night sky. Wisps of fog began gathering in the low places, drifting across the landscape as we drove.

I thought about how the day had begun, with gloomy clouds, drizzle and me lying awake worrying about how we were going to make everything work.

And somehow, everything simply fell into place.

Fourteen of us gathered in Stillwater. We ate ice cream along the St. Croix, walked all the way to Wisconsin and back, watched children spin around a merry-go-round, shared pizza in a little cabin beside a lake, watched a golden Minnesota sunset and finished our last evening together around a campfire.

Perfect timing.

But what meant the most to me was watching my son and daughter work together to make our final day with them on this trip so memorable. Everyone had busy lives, children to coordinate, miles to drive and plenty of reasons why getting everyone together could have been difficult.

Yet they made it happen.

Tomorrow, the Chariot of the Dogs rolls east and the Grand Adventure continues.

Tonight, though, as that moon rose above the Minnesota fields and the fog gathered beneath it, my heart was full.

Some days don't need to be carefully choreographed.

Sometimes you just give them room to unfold.

And every once in a while, everything arrives at exactly the right moment.

Perfect timing.

Day 24: Sept 26: Autumn Activities

I vaguely remember Kasey taking Tad out while I drifted in and out of sleep. I don’t remember dreams the way he does: he can give a TED Talk about his. Mine are rarely retained long enough for me to remember after I am awake for long. But Tad has been laser‑focused on the bunnies and cats near Lynn’s house, so my brain apparently decided to merge them. I dreamed up a “cabbit.” Dreams are interesting. I never know whether they mean anything or if it’s just mental housekeeping. I am not sure I would know reality if I could remember them for longer than a few minutes. How would I know what was a dream unless they disappear like snapchat. Maybe that’s the president’s issue. He doesn't know reality and keeps showing us images from his dreams. 

Anyway, the Internet is full of Cabbit pictures so this one is close to what I dreamed except the cat and rabbit were all black.

Emerging from my slumber I found coffee being offered from Kasey's outstretched hand. A welcome sight. Not long after a tap at the door and Lynn was waiting for morning conference. The therapy dog, Tad, was there to give positive feedback and canine encouragement.

Soon, she had to get back to attend to Randy and the dogs, Frankie and Gidget. 

We heard from the rest of the family that an Autumn adventure at an apple orchard and pumpkin patch were in mind. Alice's fever from yesterday had disappeared and she had successfully kicked the bug. First stop was the apple orchard (Sunrise River Farm) in Wyoming, MN about an hour away. They allowed dogs but with free roaming chickens, I opted to be free from getting my arm yanked off by a dog that likes to make things run. There were probably some rabbits around too.

There was lots of activities and a few shops. Bikes for the tikes, vendors and a gift shop/bakery. We tried the apple bars. They were pretty good.

A booth where you could make your own planter arrangement. Nice idea.

The kids had fun petting the rabbits and the kitties that were all up for adoption. Funny how the Cabbit theme keeps coming up. The rabbits were black too.

This is a farm and they have rules. 

Good rules.

Picking apples yourself is expensive here and costs about a dollar an apple. You get a small plastic bag for $25 which you can fill. Kasey filled his a little too much and broke the bag. He went back for a replacement. The first apple type inside the gated area was Sweet 16. I picked one off the ground that had no blemishes. It was the best apple I have had. Crisp, sweet, and juicy. Some apples have tart skin, but this one was perfect. I had a couple more of different varieties as the others picked their bags full. None compared to the first one. Even the honey crisp variety was not quite as perfect. 3 apples and I was full.

Next we headed for the pumpkin patch down the road about a half mile. Lendt's Pumpkin Patch also allowed dogs so Tad was allowed to attend the activities. 

Lots of things for kids to do. Kasey bought a huge bucket of popcorn that kept spilling out. He insisted on taking it on the balance beam. Alice is quite the gymnast and showed us her abilities. Nice to see she is feeling better.

There was plenty for the kids to do and they had no trouble exploring this pumpkin farm. Mini basketball, bean toss, and face painting. After a few minutes there, it seemed that it might rain. A few sprinkles sent the normally hardy Minnesotans running for cover as if it was a monsoon. I found it a little amusing and just put my hood up. Families started leaving and before long, it seemed that we had the place to ourselves. This family doesn't let a little rain stop the fun.

It was fun looking at all the varieties of pumpkin and squash.

On the way home, we stopped at the old hardware store in Pine City. We only had a few minutes before closing. I love their inexpensive metal works. 

This one says 1913.

The metal works are door knockers, key hangers, coat hangers, and wall hangings. Fun.

A quick check in with Diana Pace back in Roseburg and we topped the evening with Rummikub and ice cream.  A nice day.

Day 23 Being Together

Day 23 — Friday, September 25, 2026

Being Together 

I didn’t sleep particularly well Thursday night. My mind was stuck in a loop.

We are still trying to resolve some paperwork issues with the FCC involving KQUA Community Radio. It has been quite a challenge, and I seem to be the link connecting the engineers who “built” the full-power station, the antenna manufacturer, and the other bit players in what sometimes feels like a poorly directed slapstick comedy.

Hopefully, after three years of frustration, a resolution to some of these issues is finally coming into focus.

It has been a three-year nightmare for me personally, but through all of it I have never lost my belief in what KQUA can become. I remain convinced that KQUA Community Radio will ultimately be a tremendous asset for communities throughout the Umpqua.

Those thoughts were circling through my head from about 2:00 until 4:00 in the morning.

Our Minnesota adventure, meanwhile, has settled into a bit of a holding pattern. Alice has been sick all week. Lynn is tied up caring for Randy, and Ashley and company are two hours south, immersed in the daily rhythms of their own lives.

And that is okay.

We are very comfortable going with the flow and simply being here.

I spent much of the morning working on a City of Roseburg tourism grant that I thought was due next Friday. It turns out it isn’t due until the end of October, which was welcome news. The grant request itself is only $7,500, but it is an important piece of a project with a budget of roughly $100,000, so getting it right matters.

I finished the grant around noon and then had a somewhat tense Zoom meeting. During the meeting, another team member suggested that I needed to do a better job, in my role as Executive Director, of leading our process for managing potential volunteers at Umpqua Watersheds.

There is truth in that. We do need a better process.

Still, it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, or needed to hear at that particular moment.

I listened, suggested some ways we could begin making progress, and gradually the conversation shifted into a more productive discussion about Umpqua Watersheds operations. Forty-five minutes later, we had some ideas for moving forward.

Then it was back to KQUA.

I talked with our radio engineer about changes to FCC paperwork we have been working on since February. That led to another follow-up with a contractor whose information we needed. I wrote an email, sent along the necessary paperwork, and waited.

And finally, perhaps, the problem that had kept me awake between 2:00 and 4:00 that morning was moving toward resolution.

By the time I wrapped up my Umpqua Watersheds and KQUA responsibilities, it was nearly 4:00 in the afternoon.

Real life and motorhome life were waiting.

We needed to make the 15-minute trip into Mora to dump our holding tanks, fill the freshwater tank, find propane, do laundry, and pick up a few groceries. While I was finishing my phone calls, Janice began getting the motorhome ready to travel.

We both took showers—might as well put a little something extra into the holding tanks before visiting the free dump station at the fairgrounds, then unplugged the motorhome and headed for Mora.

Tad assumed his position in the front seat, excited by the possibility that another grand adventure was underway.

I dropped Janice and our laundry at the laundromat and headed over to the fairgrounds for our weekly sani-dump. I emptied the tanks, filled the motorhome with fresh water, and then went looking for propane.

Unfortunately, it was after 5:00, and I couldn’t find anyone still open who could fill our tank.

So I headed back to help Janice with the laundry.

I opened Google Maps and clicked on Janice’s picture to guide me back to the laundromat, five minutes away. Those of you who know me understand that getting turned around is something of a specialty of mine.

Following the map, I drove along the frontage road toward the little icon representing Janice.

But instead of finding her inside the laundromat, I found her standing outside talking with a small group of about 15 people holding “No Kings” signs.

She saw the motorhome coming and waved at me with an impish, “Look what I found!” grin on her face.

One of Lynn’s neighbors from Klondike Loop was there with his dog, and he and Janice had been chatting. The small group was friendly and welcoming. They told us they gather there every Friday to demonstrate in support of democracy.

Nearby was a man who had arrived on a motorcycle. He was dressed almost entirely in black, coat, pants, fingerless gloves and a face covering, with sunglasses and a backward ball cap. He was recording the gathering with his cell phone. Members of the group told us that he regularly appears during their Friday demonstrations and said they believed his presence and filming were intended to intimidate them.

It was an unexpected little slice of life in Mora, Minnesota.

Janice eventually climbed aboard the motorhome, and we headed off to do our shopping. She called around looking for propane while we drove. Everyone she spoke with was friendly and apologetic, but no propane was to be had that evening.

We crossed the county road, retrieved our clean laundry, and headed back to Lynn’s place on Klondike Loop.

By then, the workday was finally behind us.

We set up camp again. Janice built a fire and took Tad for a walk while I made dinner. Soon we were sitting beside the fire eating hot dogs, relaxing, talking, and occasionally checking our phones to catch up on what was happening in the larger world.

And then the world became much smaller.

Just us.

The fire crackling beside us.

Tad nearby.

The tall Minnesota pines silhouetted across the dirt road.

A nearly full moon rose and illuminated the evening sky above the trees. Somewhere in the darkness, a Barred Owl began calling, its familiar voice carrying through the autumn night.

After a day spent worrying about FCC paperwork, writing grants, navigating difficult conversations, solving problems 1,800 miles away, emptying holding tanks, chasing propane, washing clothes, buying groceries, and unexpectedly encountering a little Friday-evening demonstration in Mora, there really wasn’t anywhere else we needed to be.

There was no schedule to keep.

No adventure we needed to manufacture.

No problem that had to be solved before bedtime.

There was simply Janice and me, Tad, a campfire, an owl, the moon, and an autumn Friday evening in Minnesota.

Sometimes the best part of an adventure isn’t going somewhere.

Sometimes it is simply being together.

Day 22: Sept 24, 2026. Lunch with the big kids

Kasey drew the short straw this morning and took Tad out for his bathroom break while I stayed tucked comfortably in bed. At least it wasn’t as cold as yesterday. Before long, it was time to head into the city for brunch with Kasey’s kids, Nick and Ash, and Ash’s fiancé, Orion. We’d eaten at this same restaurant last year, so it felt familiar in that cozy, cyclical way.

Conversation flowed easily, bouncing from raising children to wedding plans to work and whatever else surfaced. Midway through, I got a call from Jody back home in Roseburg so I stepped away from the dining table. An out of town visitor was having trouble with a motorhome slider. Something jammed near the gears, leaving it stuck open. I tried to picture the cramped space where the obstruction must be lodged, but there wasn’t much I could do from Minnesota. I passed along the name of the repair shop we used for our slide issue and hoped it would help.

When I returned to the table, I discovered that Nick had swiped my utensils while I was gone. I’m fairly certain he’s pulled this stunt before, which is why I had tucked them near my coffee cup. He’s a sneaky one, that Nick. After a bit of playful scolding, we shifted our attention to the enormous pancakes being delivered around the table. I swear they must use a forklift to flip them. I ordered the Senior pancake, which still covered the entire plate—and even then, I couldn’t finish it. Eventually Nick had to head back to work, and Kasey and I made our way to the mall to get her phone screen repaired. A kind young man named Saif replaced it for over $200, which made me grateful I’d lived with my cracked screen for three years before switching to a foldable phone. At one point I guessed his accent was Indian, an error he corrected with a firm but friendly “No! I am from Bangladesh.” "Ah, okay" I said. He said "You know where Bangladesh is?" I said "Yes, generally." Then gesturing with my hands, the left one representing India and the right one representing Bangladesh, I said "It is on the east side of India."

Bangladesh is the most populated country in the world. It is a country surrounded by India on 3 sides. The borders of modern Bangladesh were established with the partition of Bengal between India and Pakistan during the Partition of India in August 1947, when the region became East Pakistan as part of the newly formed State of Pakistan following the end of the British rule in the region. The Proclamation of Bangladeshi Independence in March 1971 led to the nine-month-long Bangladesh Liberation War, which culminated in the emergence of the People's Republic of Bangladesh. Independence was declared in 1971.

We thanked him for his work and Kasey managed to slip in that we value immigrants and appreciate the contribution that different cultures bring to the US.

The mall is very sparse. Very few businesses are open and several of the shops are vacant. I suppose the popularity of indoor malls is fading at least until winter. They did have a couple of cool murals with butterfly wings for our amusement.

Back at the motorhome, we waited for the rain to pass before lighting a fire in the raised pit out back. The evening settled in gently as we sat outside, talking while the flames crackled around us. The rain never arrived to spoil anything, and we finally turned in as the fire dwindled to embers. I lay in bed wide awake for hours, turning over a few stubborn conundrums in my mind, hoping they’d loosen their grip before morning.