Tag Archive: critters


A long search ends suddenly

I recognize and appreciate some of the ironies of life. Like one that came to me this afternoon: By the time football season ends (in late October or early November, depending on playoff success), snow will be flying through the air. But today, as I finished editing my Week 1 stories, the local temperature was in the low 90s.

Actually, it was a quiet Sunday, besides being a hot day. My wife and I did very little, but we got in a little practice for the start of the NFL season, in two weeks.

I had recorded the first half of the Packers’ game against Indianapolis Thursday night (because I was away, covering girls volleyball). While we had lunch together (as usual on Sunday: sandwiches, in the living room), I played the Thursday night game. And, as usual, after we finished eating, she leaned her head on my shoulder … and soon was asleep. I think I may have dozed off for a few minutes, too.

When I returned to the here and now, I turned on the Weather Channel, which claimed the local temperature stood at 96F (36C). Easily the hottest day of the year if it was true, but I don’t quite believe it. Maybe 91 or so, but not 96. Later, we went out to do some grocery shopping. It seemed pretty warm but not that hot.

On Saturday, all three of us (including David) went on a shopping trip to Rhinelander. The surprise of the trip came early, on Wisconsin 70, halfway between Iron River and Eagle River, Wis., when I saw a feline figure crouching on the edge of the woods as I drove past. Definitely a feline head. Either a bobcat or a lynx, and lynx aren’t that common here. Definitely larger than a cat.

I just got a glimpse of him as I drove past. I quickly stopped and turned around, but I never saw him again–my wife caught a glimpse of him (?) running across the road and disappearing into the woods. It’s a densely wooded area of the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest, but we were on a state highway with a wide right-of-way cleared of trees and such.

Bobcats live in the woods, but I had never seen one in the wild before. More irony: The night before, I saw a whole bunch of bobcats–they were wearing the green football uniforms of the Florence Bobcats, who battled West Iron into overtime.
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Goats, piggies and vampires

Ever since her GF moved up here early this year, S had been talking about the three of us visiting an animal farm south of Oshkosh. She took my wife and me there a couple years ago; we had a great time, and I got some goofy pictures, which is almost as important …

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(That’s an extreme close-up of an elk, by the way.)

Now she wanted to share the critter experience with her GF, who I will hereafter call T.

I wanted to take them there earlier this summer and drove down, but we didn’t have good luck with the weather. We did other stuff. Summer lasts a long time, right?

But when the calendar hits August, it gets really hard for me to take a couple days off–the month gets much busier (for me) than June and July are. So, early in August, on a warm, humid Monday night, my wife made me an early supper, and I hit the road for the four-hour drive south to the Fox Cities of Wisconsin.

Earlier this summer, I had run into road construction along the way. This time, I got smart; I figured out a route that only would take me a little out of my way. But fate didn’t work out that way, for three reasons: (1) patches of ground fog; (2) other condensation that made reflective signs hard to read; and (3) the earlier sunsets of early August. By the time I got to the construction areas, it was dark, and the signs were hard to read. I had to follow Highway 55, not Highway 54.

OK, I got lost for a while. The GPS on my phone helped straighten me out, but I finally got there about 11 p.m., a full hour later than planned. First things first: They had to get me up to speed on the “Twilight” movie series. We had decided to see a movie during this trip, and they wanted to see “Eclipse,” the third entry in the Twilight series. So I watched “New Moon” with them to learn who’s whom and what’s what. Werewolves. Vampires. Indians. My head was swimming with details.

Finally, to bed and quickly to sleep. S had taken a Tylenol PM, so she was night-night, no matter what. I was bushed, anyway. Sleep came easily.

We all slept late Tuesday. Just after noon, we got something to eat and left for the animal farm. It was hot (in the upper 80s) and quite muggy–but it was also cloudy. Lucky for us: If the sun comes out, I told them, the heat index is going to shoot straight up.

When we got there, I picked up my camera but not my hat. It was still pretty cloudy.

I paid for all three of us, and in exchange we got several bags of old bread–to feed to the critters we saw along the way. Off we went. Our first friends were a goat and donkey that posed with S. Say cheese! …

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The goats were quite interested in T’s bread …

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Then we found a pen where the goats were stacked for snacks …

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We also encountered a hungry bison with a black tongue …

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On the other side, camels. Some of them had figured out how to get closer to their two-footed visitors and look cute doing it …

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Again, the goats. They were quite insistent. They wanted food. They knew we had it. And they weren’t accepting any excuses. T had to talk to one of them, to tell him to mind his manners …

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S found a donkey, who brayed loudly about how hungry he was. S always falls for that trick …

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It was hot but manageable … until, halfway through our self-guided tour, the sun broke out in all its glory. I remembered my hat, still in the back seat. Sure enough, my U.P. blood was getting too hot.

We spotted a gazebo and took refuge from the sun there. I took off my shirt, something I don’t do that often, to invite a breeze. I invited the girls to do likewise. But they had seen a little girl earlier in our visit and didn’t want their breasts to corrupt impressionable youth, I guess. Anyway, I was the only shirtless person.

That’s about when a bunch of piglets spotted us. What fun!

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After that, we had piglets trotting after us, looking for treats and grunting endearingly …

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In fact, T was like the Pied Piper of Piglets. She certainly had a devoted following …

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When we visited in 2007, we took refuge from the heat in a camp store, where they sold sodas and ice cream. We finally found the place. It was closed. Our luck.

Before we left, S found more creatures near a fence–a bison, deer, more goats …

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(In fact, it was the same bunch we had seen earlier, when the goats were on multi layers.) …

Frankly, I wasn’t feeling that well. The girls saw my skin was a lot pinker than normal, and I hadn’t gotten sunburned–I was just overheated. Luckily, we found a gas station and restaurant and took refuge there for a while. Ice cream! What a good idea! I had a banana shake. Yum! We took our time, and eventually I cooled down.

Our original plan had been to drive north to Appleton, enjoy dinner together and see the movie. But first we had to go back to their place to peel off our sweat-soaked shirts. By the time we reached Appleton, time was too tight for a regular restaurant. Instead: Burger King. Then, off to the movie.

I’m glad I saw “New Moon” the night before–it did help me keep track of the main characters. The girls thought this film would tie up all the plotlines and bring the saga to a close. Far from it! The ending very obviously hinted that at least one more sequel is in the works. Nonetheless, everyone enjoyed the film–and the air conditioning inside …

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After that: Some evening shopping. The girls needed a number of things and were short on money, as usual. But they are my friends, and I don’t have a problem helping out. From Tylenols to maxipads to whatever, my attitude is: If you need it, put it in the cart. The big one was a cell phone–S had a phone, but it was only for emergencies. I reasoned that getting a new one would make their lives less complicated.

From there, back to their place. Various people visited, and someone took a picture of me with the girls …

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Finally, a little after midnight, off to bed (though the GF stayed up). S and I were tired after a long, busy day. We both fell asleep quickly.

Wednesday morning, I had to head for home. But first, S and I had some unfinished business to take care of. One important item remained on the to-do list because we were too tired the first two nights.

And then it was time to go. I saw many things on the trip home. Birds gathering on wires. The hamburger capital of America. Pretty farming valleys. But that’s enough pictures for now. Maybe another time. Finally I got back home.

The trip was a bit too rushed for my liking, but it had to do. I don’t expect to visit them again until October or November. We’re already talking about special plans for that one. This one is so special to me that my wife might join us. I’ll explain in due time.

“Say hello to Bullwinkle”

Here’s a good argument for taking the path less traveled. We traveled it last Saturday, and it paid off big time.

In fact, the road we took home from a one-day excursion may actually get more traffic than the road we took earlier. But it was still the long way home, and I’m glad we followed a whim.

Here’s the story: On Saturday, we visited and toured an old copper mine. It was about 70 miles from home, to the north and west, close to Lake Superior. We left at mid-morning, when it was cloudy with rain threatening. As we neared the lake, the clouds were lowering, and light rain started to fall …

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But after the tour and then lunch at a cafe in Ontonagon, the clouds started breaking up, and the sun broke out. Before long, there was more blue sky than clouds …

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As I drove home, I got an idea: Why don’t we take the long way home? At a crossroads, I turned east instead of continuing south.

It was different scenery for everyone, including the driver. When M-28 reached U.S. 141, I turned south, towards Iron County and home. I started wondering about something: Would the moose be out?
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Day of the bison

Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam / Where the deer and the antelope play. / Where seldom is heard a discouraging word / And the skies are not cloudy all day … “

We sure have deer up here. No antelope. More than our share of grouches and cloudy days.

But we do have buffalo. Near our home, within 50 miles, there are at least two ranches where bison are raised and bred. The one closer to us has been holding a Baby Bison Fest every June for the last few years, but we had never been to one because of other events taking place–either stuff I have to cover for the paper or our vacations.

This year we made a note of the date, and we adjusted the dates of the Canada trip (a story not yet written) to make sure we were home in time to take it in. So, on a recent Saturday, we got in the car and made the journey as a side trip during a normal visit to Iron Mountain.

The place keeps 50 head of bison, and the website explains that they are 100% grass-fed and pharm-free. “No drugs, pesticides or herbicides involved … ever. Our buffalo are raised in an open, natural setting in an effort to keep them as stress-free as possible. They are never feed-lotted.”

In case you didn’t see the website, they tell you that several times while you’re there.

We first visited a large metal storage building where they were selling buffalo-based items. (More on that later.) They also had littler, cuddlier bison for the littler, cuddlier people …

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They also had a petting zoo, a car show and a number of vendors for a number of things. But the stars of the show were grazing in the field a short distance away …

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They had a tractor pulling farm wagons into the field, where you could get up close and personal (but not too close or too personal) to the bison. Of course, we joined the line …

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When we finally got our turn, I found out we would be riding in the royal carriage. Two of the county’s “Fairest of the Fair” were in our wagon, along with the reigning Wisconsin “Fairest of the Fair,” who was crowned at the Wisconsin State Fair in West Allis last summer …

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All three were wearing their tiaras, and they were taking pictures of the bison like everyone else …

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We heard once more how naturally the bison are being raised. It’s hard to tell a happy bison from an unhappy one, but these looked reasonably content–at least until the wagon got too close. Then they moved off–both the big ones and the little ones …

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It was low-cost entertainment. You could park on the grounds in exchange for a $3 donation to the local high school’s forensics team. The ride into the field to look at the bison close-up was $1 a head, which went to the local county fair.Make no mistake, they raise the bison for harvest. They had bison burgers and bison brats for sale inside the metal building (also a benefit for the fair), and we each bought one. Yum! So good that my wife bought another five pounds of them. Last Saturday, we each had a home-cooked bison burger for lunch.

That’s the ultimate fate of the bison at ranches today, like the beef cattle we see in the fields.  But there were 50 bison at the ranch we visited recently, and there sure were a lot of baby bison to look at. The population is no danger. It’s a short life but a happy one.

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I have spent most of the last week watching with increasing disgust what is happening in Iran. It is a very important story, and the media finally started paying attention. Not that there is a lot we can do to influence things one way or another.

Weatherwise, we got pretty warm Sunday. I covered the local Father’s Day car show and other events Sunday afternoon, and luckily I remembered to put on the sunscreen–it was mostly sunny and very warm. When I got back home, I found it had gotten up to 88F (31C), though the humidity was not too high. I had wanted to mow the lawn, but I delayed that until after supper, when it was a little cooler.

On Tuesday, the temperature rose into the low 90s (about 33 C), and it got close to 90 today (Wednesday). It is supposed to cool off over the weekend.

This started out as a very cool June, but that changed about two weeks ago. Now it’s summer here, too. Unlike other parts of the Midwest, though, we haven’t had a lot of rain. We could use a little more.

If you happen to bump into the weather man, tell him that for me.

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Thank you, Chandra, for your advice. It worked. I think I will follow your advice … prepare posts on Vox, then copy them over here and to Blogspot.

Fast ketchup

(Not the red stuff that you pour all over your fries. Just “ketch(ing) up” with things.)

Life has been moving on swiftly for me, much too swiftly for me to write blog posts when I get some quiet time. Last week, my wife and I made that brief trip to Canada. Last weekend, we went to a Baby Bison Fest. And in two weeks, I will be at the airport in the Twin Cities to pick up B, at the start of our adventure.

I will post about the Canada trip and the Bison Fest when I find the time. We also recently went to a logging museum that had an old-time one-room school that I liked, plus I got some interesting handouts. I’ll also put that on the “to do … eventually” list.

Long-time readers know that for the last few years, I have been documenting the life of the robins that have nested on our front porch. In case you were wondering, there have been no nests so far this summer. We cleaned out those corners of the porch and put out the welcome mat, but no tenants yet. I don’t require them to sign a lease, either. I’m quite a nice landlord. Even if I am a bit intrusive with the camera.

Another occasional topic for me is my adventures with wildlife–especially bears. Early this week, I found out about a wandering bruin near a city park, so I went over with my camera to watch the fun.

It was at a far corner of the park, in a mostly wooded area but still close to city streets and residential homes and little kids playing. Mr. Bear was about halfway up a tall tree, and the authorities were on the scene, trying to persuade him to climb back down. Mr. Bear said no, I like it right where I am …

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By the way, he was not a large bear (and there’s no way of knowing if he really was a he). Some people watching the fun said he was a second-year cub–a bear born last year.

Enter the DNR–the Department of Natural Resources–whose biologist came over to try to help. The plan was to tranquilize the bear and give him a ride out of town. But the local DNR biologists don’t have the kind of tranquiilizer gun you see all the time on animal shows on TV. What they use instead is use a long aluminum stick that has a needle in one end. Give him a couple of pokes with the tranquilizer, and pretty soon your target will get very sleepy.

The DNR guy climbed the ladder and got his stick ready. But Mr. Bear climbed higher, out of range. Up, up, up he climbed until he reached the very top of the tree, where he sat and thought bearish thoughts.

The cops were on the scene, too, with the county animal control officer. No ladder was anywhere near tall enough, so a new plan was needed. How about guns? How about making lots of noise with loud guns and shooting at the tree above the bear, to scare him back down? Bang! Bang! Bang! Mr. Bear didn’t seem impressed … or scared. The standoff continued.

But then the heavy artillery was brought in–a city bucket truck. The DNR guy got into the bucket, and up he went, up, up, up until he was nearly at the bear’s altitude. He brought his tranquilizer stick along, too, and took aim …
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Mr. Bear got the message and started climbing down. Down, down, down. He paused about 12 feet above the ground then climbed down some more–maybe about 4 feet from terra firma. But then he noticed another DNR guy standing by the base of the tree. It must have been a scary sight–the bear reversed course and started climbing up, up, up again. Within moments, he was about 2/3rds of the way up.

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But the guy in the bucket soon was close by, and he took aim. Another stick or two, and Mr. Bear started thinking it was time to go beddy-bye. …

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Before anybody could sing him a lullaby, he lost his grip on the tree trunk and fell to the ground. The DNR guys brought over an oversize plastic pet carrier, quickly had the bear inside and carried him to their pickup truck. After that, I presume, they gave him a long ride into the deep woods, opened the door and sent him on his way.

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Bloggy blahs seem to be nearly universal now. I can understand why I am not writing so much–I’m busy with other stuff and never can seem to catch up. But everybody else? They’re under a different standard!

Namely … a double standard.

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