in January |
Darrel Murdock January 9: The St Croix River is a major player in the Upper Midwest's cluster of geological magnificance that spans from the Great Lake Superior with it's encompassing lava-wrapped rivers cascading into it, through the ancient high cliffs and giant potholes of the St Croix River to the world's largest cache of pinkish-red Pipestone. The St Croix River is in fact the host of not only the world's largest known pothole carved by mammoth swirling eddies powered by the rapid melting of the glaciers that had ripped the tops off of some of the Earth's oldest mountains; but also the host of the largest and most diverse collection of potholes in the world. The still mighty river forms much of the border between Minnesota and Wisconsin, with only a small handful of bridges distanced miles apart from each other on this river that once sported many freighters carrying sandstone that had been quarried along it's lengthy shores. Most of the St Croix's best areas have been snatched up by State and National Parks in time to preserve this precious treasure, including the Interstate Park area that is hosted by both states and the federal government. But before that small towns had popped up along the river, especially of course by the bridges. One of those quaint towns was and still is Osceola, Wisconsin. Not only does the St Croix wind around it, but there is a significant creek that runs through it, strongly enough to have powered a mill at one time. The Osceola Creek actually drops several times rather dramatically right there in town, and is boosted by the smaller Geiger Creek between it's highest cascades. A nicely designed system of stairs and observation decks affords the visitors free views of this well-kept secret, and just one block away an old but immaculate steam train still gives rides through the foothills and valleys in the area, which is very colorful in the fall as the maple trees flame on amongst the evergreen pines. We were thrilled to discover this special place in the fall, and took many pictures of the Osceola Cascades and the St Croix's surrounding foothills reflecting their color on the big, blue river. We took pictures of the train waiting to be boarded with the colored foothills behind it, then dashed back over the fence back to our double-parked truck before we got screamed at. The fact that it is a well-kept secret is quite possibly part of the reason I completely forgot to write about it. I almost forgot again, after re-visiting there on New Year's Day. So now Kathy and I reveal our bounty in reverse chronological order; here is Osceola Now and Then. |
Hidden Falls |
Darrel Murdock The Hidden Falls Exposed January 30: When we visited Osceola Cascades the first weekend in January we felt lucky, even opportunistic; it was unusual to see running water in the coldest month of the year, even in Southern Minnesota. We had no idea that we would have an entire month of such rare beauty, waterfalls that had thawed out and were flowing generously in the stages of refreezing. Our first winter of hiking and photography had yielded many frozen over, often snowed over photos of our favorite Midwest locations. We had been lucky to get beautiful sunshine though, so we had selected scenic places to get very cool shots, like at the steep red gorges of Temperance River complete with Boiling Cauldrons, the never-freezing North Shore of Lake Superior and the enormous Western Ontario Kakabeka Falls. But this January was to be different, to say the least. The temperatures hovered around freezing all throughout the month, leaving us some sweet rewards for our tricky, icy treks. The very next weekend after seeing the Osceola Cascades area covered in fresh snow while the icicle-wrapped falls spilled down gracefully into the pool below, we jumped back into the truck armed with our new higher-tech digital gear and headed south to see if we could catch the Hidden Falls of Nerstrand-Big Woods State Park. After the mile-long descent into the deep ravine that hosts the falls we were happy to see that it was not covered in snow, but was quite iced over due to the chilling winds in the ancient riverbed the night before. It was still quite magnificent anyway, the sculpted shapes glistening while the faintly visible river flowed underneath, splashing as it fell. I hurled large river rocks at the thinner spots in the icy drop, but the unyielding ice remained vigilant while the red sedimentary rocks broke in half. The ice shavings flew as I hurled rock after rock, but the net result was to make one little hole slightly larger. By this time Kathy had amassed a collection of humorous videos as my valiant efforts were thwarted by the super-chilled Hidden Falls. Undaunted by her laughter, I laid down on my back on the snow-covered frozen edge of the pool below and took pictures of the frozen falls with the new porthole window complete with running water. Ed. note - see "The Hurler" here. Turn up the volume. This is a .wmv (Windows Media Video) file, about 2 megabytes. |
at Minneopa |
Darrel Murdock Upper Falls and High Falls January 31: After catching Nerstrand's Hidden Falls in an advanced stage of refreezing we thought we might not get any more running water until March or so. Yet the weather stayed unseasonably warm throughout the third week of January; so warm in fact that we started to wonder if there would even be icicles at any of our possible targets. The warm air had caused a lot of moisture to hang out in the atmosphere, so it had been very cloudy and drizzly for days. We could only hope that it would be a little clearer by the weekend. The reports had indicated that it would be nice, but changed to gloom as Saturday approached. We decided to go to Minneopa since it wasn't too far away, as we don't like to pay a lot for a little. We also told ourselves that it would be good to hike, even if we didn't get any good new photos. On the way down there we would also check out a new-to-us rest stop just a few miles off the route, to further ensure that we were not wasting our time and money. But that turned into a wild goose chase; we circled the area like vultures looking for lunch, yet the wayside remained at large. Oh well, there was a little sunshine down this way, so we got back on the route to see what we could see at Minneopa. As we drove into the park we observed the creek running quite nicely, surrounded by snow and edged with ice sheets. All right! We were gonna get some cool shots after all; we would be seeing some running water today! Last year at this time the falls had been frozen solid, the shorter Upper Falls was covered in snow to the point where it was just a small hill, and the High Falls was frozen solid at half it's normal width. So we were just a bit thrilled to discover not only the Upper Falls looking grand, but the High Falls full-width and covered with big clear spears. On top of that, the thick ice in the catch-pool had cracked and turned sideways, adding a special effect to the scenes. As we snapped away, we also noticed something entirely new to us: the High Falls was layered; there was a full row of ice and water in front of another row of icicles that hugged the rocky cliff. Minneopa had gone 3D, and we were here to capture it! In the enclosed pictures I have added a picture of me by the base of the High Falls to put into perspective the size of this phenomenon. |
Minnehaha |
Darrel Murdock February 6: Any photographer who has spent a lot of time trying to get great Winter photos knows about the difficulties that go with the territory. Besides the fact that snow cover plays hell with the automatic settings, especially the light settings; it is hard to know in advance what a remote target looks like. On the same calendar day in January, you may find beautiful sculptures of frozen drippings around a waterfall or you may find a snowed-over hill. You could have a favorable forecast, drive 150 miles and then see the sky fill with dark clouds anyway. Trails can become dangerous ice-slides camoflaged by a thin coat of snow at any time in the winter months. Winds can suddenly start up, making even half-mile hikes very unpleasant, and the blowing snow will eliminate any hope of clarity. Despite those odds, with the help of several internet weather pages and last-minute 'flex-abilities', coupled with faith and extreme drive, we have amassed a plethora of amazing peeks at the magnificent art of Nature throughout the Winter. It's an obsession that has drained our pockets though, so we appreciate the more local waterfalls when they shine. Minnehaha is a great example of that; we can get there in a flash anytime the weather looks good, especially after a thaw and re-freeze on a sunny day, any time of day that best suits us. So after local success for every weekend in January of 2006, we were thrilled to get a perfect day for checking out Minnehaha. When we arrived at the city park that hosts the falls we were treated to free parking less than a block from our target. We grabbed our gear and walked over to the descending stairway to the ravine, finding it completely filled with ice, which came as no surprise. The stairs were chained off every winter for that reason alone. We had to walk down backwards, hanging on to the freezing pole railing as we inched our way down. Feeling that my gloves were too slippery I opted to use my bare hands. The pain was almost unbearable by the time each landing was reached. As we neared the falls, we were encouraged by the sound of running water on this +10F day, and then were surprised to see a few other hardy adventurers armed with cameras. After snapping the first views from a landing, we descended the rest of the distance to the base of the falls. It was fun to chat with these other extremists about our Winter adventures, but not as much fun as it was to capture the grand scene that surrounded us; icicles of every size, ranging in color from powder blue to clear, and a gorgeous waterfall wrapped in an elegant and much-adorned overcoat. Oh Minnehaha, How Awesome Thou Art! [Ed. note - Click here for more waterfalls and other natural wonders, at Darrel's AAALynx website.] |
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Charles Frost Perhaps the arrival of March is a harbinger that winter is winding down. A change would be quite welcome, as we’ve had some bitterly cold days lately. Enjoyed the school break in sunny climes. As a substitute teacher I could leave Maine before the rush. Flew out to Hemet, CA, where I visited Edith, the widow of one of my old Washington colleagues who early left government for academe and was one of Derek’s professors. The vacation got of to a shaky start, though. The day after I arrived in CA I received a call that the power had gone down back home. High winds snapped two of my trees, which leaned on the lines and popped the circuit breaker. I provided encouragement and a little guidance on my cell phone to Pamela’s fiancé and a neighbor who were struggling to get the generator going. The generator finally fired up but failed the next day, at which point I arranged for motel accommodations. Colleen built a fire in the wood stove to maintain minimal heat for the animals. Power was restored after two days. By that time the house was at 47 degrees but, fortunately, the pipes were OK. The vacation was much more relaxing after that episode. Edith’s sister and brother-in-law from Chicago were also visiting. I dubbed us “The Chicago Mob” because we all had originated there. They liked that appellation. Drove them to a site near Palm Springs to tour a wind park, a complex of 4,000 wind-powered electric generators. Desert cooling draws in steady winds from the mountains. After church on Sunday Edith and I attended a community theater production of “All I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” Well done. Dropped off the rental car at Ontario, CA, airport for my flight to Portland, OR. A young mother was just ahead of me going through airport security. We had to take off shoes, jackets, belts, etc., and of course she had a stroller and baby bottle stuff. She just didn’t have enough hands for all of that, so she turned to me and said, “Hold my baby, please.” A beautiful being with big round blue eyes. How many years since I last held a baby in my arms! Derek has established an office for his Maine-based company in a solid old building in the so-called Pearl District, a revitalized section of Portland. A few blocks away he has leased a suite on the eleventh floor of a new apartment building with a fine view of one of the city’s hillside districts. He and Rosalind met me at a downtown stop when I arrived from the airport on Portland’s light rail line. Roz took me to see the Hesse Collection at the Portland Museum of Art, the treasures on loan from the baronial estates of that German province (furniture, exquisite chinaware, luminous paintings and other objets d’art). Derek had a business trip to Seattle and took me along for the ride (no need to own a car, just rent it by the day – or hour). His long-time business associate and his wife joined us for dinner at an Italian restaurant. We were seated at a special booth in the kitchen, where we could see the chef barking orders to his assistants. Occasionally a waiter would pass by on his way to the main dining rooms and identify the dish he was carrying. I asked our waitress to translate the motto painted on the tile wall of our booth: Se non supporta il calore, vattene dalla cucina! (If you can’t take the heat, get out of this kitchen!). The day before I returned home Bruce Fitzwater, a family friend from China days and Orrel’s spiritual teacher, took me to the Lewis and Clark Exhibit at the Museum of History. We then drove in bright sunlight up the Columbia River Gorge and around Mount Hood. By late afternoon we had climbed from sea level to 5,800 feet to Timberline Lodge in the snowfields. The CCC built it during the Depression of thick oak beams and wrought iron with a gigantic stone fireplace column in the center. A memorable day, indeed. Winter recess over, it has been a very busy week here. Worked four days in high and middle schools. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined myself impersonating a music teacher teaching middle schoolers about punk rock and Brazilian samba! The magazine article the teacher assigned mentioned the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame but didn't disclose its location. That was the only thing I could contribute -- Cleveland, OH (became aware of it during a Navy reunion there). Tonight we’re having a big bash for Colleen’s eighteenth birthday. With her inimitable talent, Pamela has decorated the living and dining rooms with birthday streamers, posters and lots of balloons. Tina (Charlton) Casella What a great tribute to my dad! [Ed. note - Click here for Mal's tribute page.] My name is Tina (Charlton) Casella. I am Mal's 5th child with Esther Springer, his 2nd wife. My niece Amy, the daughter of my eldest brother Allen (aka Joedy) - found this web page by chance and forwarded it to him. He in turn sent it to me and my older sister Vicki. It was nice to read all the kind words and fascinating memories from everyone. As I browsed around the site and clicked on different pages, I was shocked and very saddened to learn that my Godmother, Aunt Ona, had passed away last summer (she was also my sister Vicki's Godmother). Had I known, my sister and would certainly have come to pay our respects. I hope that no-one thought we were rude or uncaring by not being there, we just didn't know. I would have loved to be able to say "Thank You" to her for always loving me unconditionally and for blessing me with all the things she had to say over the years. Although we never saw each other very much, each time I did see her or talk to her, I cherished it. The last time I saw her was at Uncle Charlie's birthday party at his house; I think that was in 1998. I will always remember the year she sent me a cassette tape while on her travels through the holiday season. Hearing her voice and imagining the sites as she described them was great. I will miss her a great deal. Paying my last respects to her would have been very comforting, it would certainly have helped put a bit of closure on my Dad's passing. I am extremely proud to say that I am related to both of these wonderful people. Seeing the pictures of Dad as well as other family members brought tears to my eyes of both sadness and joy. Thank you to all who submitted pictures and kind words; it was very nice to see. If anyone has pictures of Dad and/or Aunt Ona that they want to share with me, I would be most grateful.
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