« June 2005 | Main | August 2005 »
July 28, 2005
Dunegrass revelers prepare to party again
Empire folk festival brings in nationally known acts
By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor
Just when it looked like Empire’s eclectic annual music festival might brown and die like an undernourished field during a scorching August, the Dunegrass Festival suddenly has a new lease on life. Stephen Volas and Jeremiah Sequoia (great name!) of Grassroots Productions in nearby Beulah have teamed up with the Vanderberg family in Empire, which founded the festival 12 years ago, to bring us this year’s two-day extravaganza on Friday and Saturday, August 5 and 6.
“I talked with Mike about taking this from a regional festival that it always has been and turning it into a major headliner,” Volas recalls. “We’d stick with local artists, but also attract Midwestern hits. Dunegrass had never made money in the past, and the financial burden on the community had grown too great, but the expectations this year are for a sell-out.”
So kick off your office shoes, fill up your coolers and picnic baskets, and drive over to the Village of Empire for two days of great tunes, dancing in the field, or just napping on a blanket. Tickets cost $50 for a two-day camping pass, $45 if you just want to party until dusk, or $25 for a one-day pass. Children under 12 get in free. Buy your tickets locally at Deering’s Market in Empire, Cedar City Market in Cedar, Kejara’s Bridge in Lake Leelanau, East Shore Market in Beulah or the Cabbage Shed in Elberta. Or find them online at www.jambasetickets.com.
Dunegrass follows a host of other rockin’ music festivals in northern Michigan, including Bliss Fest in Cross Village, Spirit of the Woods in Brethren and Hiawatha in Marquette.
But the acts Volas, Sequoia and Vanderberg have put together this year are out of this world. You’ll hear the hot local bands, The New Third Coast, heartfelt songs inspired by the beauty all around us; Claudia Schmidt, the self-described “creative noisemaker; and K. Jones & the Benzie Playboys, northern Michigan-style Cajun music (no, really!), Friday, followed on Saturday by Cabin Fever (dance an Irish jig) and the Neptune Quartet, which would make Frank Zappa and Hank Williams smile.
From outside of town Grassroots Productions is bringing in Leadfoot, a bluegrass band from Chicago; the Rastafarian boys Rootstand; a southern rock group named Mr. Blotto (Friday); followed by incredible songwriters from Grand Rapids named Potato Moon; the Two High String Band; Delta blues master Chris Smither; Hot Tuna (the remnants of Jefferson Airplane); and to send everyone home happy, Vince Welnick, who played with the Grateful Dead in the early 1990’s and hopes to reincarnate Jerry Garcia’s spirit on the shores of Lake Michigan.
Sound like too much to handle? Treat yourself to a bratwurst or a chocolate-covered cheesecake at one of the vendor stands. Or jump into a game of hacky-sack with the Deadheads, and then trek down to Empire’s public beach for a jump in Lake Michigan’s holy waters. But whatever you do, show up and get ready for a good time in the Dunegrass.
Posted by editor at 11:10 PM | Comments (0)
Susan Werner sings her way into Glen Arbor
By Norm Wheeler
Sun editor
The Manitou Music Festival brings the enormous talent of folk & jazz performer Susan Werner to Glen Arbor for a concert at the Leelanau School on Sunday, July 31, at 7:30 p.m. Tickets are only $15, and patrons are encouraged to bring lawn chairs or blankets for what promises to be a delightful evening of music.
A breakthrough singer-songwriter in the mid-90s, Susan Werner has toured with countless luminaries including Joan Armatrading and Richard Thompson. Werner also appeared on the Peter, Paul & Mary Lifelines special seen nationally on PBS. Her 2002 release new non-fiction, received numerous accolades for its insightful social commentary and introspective stories. That's why The Boston Herald said, "If the Grammy Folks knew what they were doing, it would be near the top of the list in next year's Contemporary Folk category."
Susan visited Leelanau County once before to sing in the dunes at Leelanau State Park for the wedding ceremony of her friends Dana McConnell and Walter Elder, summer residents of Empire. This time she brings her wit, charm, and incredible jazz chops to Glen Arbor to showcase original compositions in the style of the Great American Songbook. Susan’s poetic lyrics are clever, deft, and lovely, and her amazing voice ranges from smoky torch-song sexy, to the brassy back-slapping banter of Midwestern bonhomie. Susan is a huge talent with a compelling presence, so this is one show you absolutely must not miss. Arrive early and be prepared to be blown away!
Here are some notes on Susan’s recent CD I Can't Be New:
"Werner's lyrics are pure poetry" — Philadelphia Daily News
George Gershwin. Cole Porter. Richard Rodgers. Billy Strayhorn. The Golden Age of Popular Song. A bygone era. No one can write tunes like that anymore. Or has Susan Werner added a new chapter to the Great American Songbook?
I Can't Be New (Koch Records), is Werner's fourth nationally released recording, and while chartering somewhat new territory in style, it offers the same high quality writing that her fans have come to expect. Werner performs 12 original compositions in the songbook style. And in this nod to the composers of standards, she's breathed new and brilliant life into the popular song tradition, one that many thought was a closed book.
"This is a songwriter's record. I'd describe the aim of this project as Carole King's Tapestry meets Ella Fitzgerald's Cole Porter Songbook," Werner suggests. "I listened to Ella and a lot of Julie London when recording this thing. Julie London, especially, she could read down a ballad so simply and beautifully, you'd just fall over and die."
However, Werner cautions, this isn't a record for jazz purists: "The purists want old songs done in a new way,” Werner says. “These are all new songs done in an old way." And if standards have become the measure for all other songs, "It's my secret hope, and I'd be overjoyed,” she adds, “if even one of these songs from the record becomes a standard."
With Werner's musical training (a Master's degree in classical voice) and live reputation as one of the most compelling performers on the touring circuit, writing and singing in such an intimate fashion was a bold departure. "The extroverted performer bends and serves the introverted writer on this record," Werner explains. "It was the most wonderful and rewarding challenge of my career." Visit Susan Werner online at: www.susanwerner.com, and we’ll see you at the Leelanau School Sunday evening, July 31, at 7:30
Posted by editor at 10:36 PM | Comments (0)
Fourth annual Port Oneida fair tells story of rural culture
By Susan Pocklington
Sun contributor
Each August, amid the pastoral setting of meadows, maples, barns, farmhouses and corncribs, the Port Oneida Rural Historic District awakens from its peaceful slumber and comes alive with activity true to the period when it was a community of robust settlers. Once again visitors are invited to step back in time at the two-day Port Oneida Fair on Friday and Saturday, August 5 and 6 to experience life as it was in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. Funded by a grant from the Michigan Council for Arts and Cultural Affairs, and hours of donated volunteer time from local artisans and craftsmen, the event will showcase traditional rural crafts and life skills.
Visitors can take the trolley, drive, hike or bike to the seven unique historic sites where a variety of activities take place. One can almost imagine the life of these pioneers as the clip clop of horse and buggy is heard toting visitors down Port Oneida road on a scenic drive-by of the community’s historic homes, schoolhouses, barns and outbuildings. Timber framers, antique boat builders and quilt makers will be demonstrating their craft. Potters and blacksmiths will be hard at work. Children can try their hand at crosscut sawing and other farm implements. Oxen can be seen cutting hay in the fields while artists in the fields create paintings inspired by the cultural landscape. Or, take in a display of antique bicycles, cameras and phonographs. Learn about basket weaving, soapmaking, buttermaking, candle dipping, spinning, and fur trapping. Satisfy your curiosity and walk through many of the historic farmhouses and barns that will be open for tours.
Interpreting the history of the Port Oneida Community and its settlers is an important aspect of the fair. How did they live? What did they do? Who were the families that lived on these farms? Park rangers and local history experts will share these stories both on the trolley and at various farm sites. Food will be available or pack a picnic lunch to eat on the trail or in a farm meadow. Finally, rally up for the community barn dance on Saturday night for a taste of 1800’s entertainment.. The fair is presented by the Friends of Sleeping Bear Dunes through a grant from the Michigan Council for Arts and Cultural Affairs, in partnership with the National Park Service, Glen Lake Schools, the Leelanau Historical Museum, Glen Arbor Art Association, Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear, Glen Lake Chamber of Commerce, Leelanau Conservation District and Shielding Tree Nature Center. For more information, call the Park at 326-5135 or visit www.leelanau.com/fair.
The Port Oneida Fair is made possible with the support of the Michigan Council for the Arts and Cultural Affairs, a partner agency of the National Endowment for the Arts. Susan Pocklington is the Administrative Coordinator for Preserve Historic Sleeping Bear.
Posted by editor at 09:43 PM | Comments (0)
Diamond wreck brings Good Will out of caring townsfolk
By Jed Jaworski
Sun contributor
“If only those weathered old timbers could talk,” people often remark as they explore the ancient forests, gracefully aging barns and bleached shipwreck timbers along the shores of Benzie and Leelanau counties. Herein is the tale of an aged boat sinking into the muddy headwaters of Betsie Bay, a fishing vessel named “Good Will” which plied the quicksilver out of Leland for 64 years. It is a tale of the human spirit, of kindness and adversity, of independence and community. It is a tale that reflects the ways of life along our northwest coast.
The story begins in the mid 1870’s, when a great influx of immigrants arrived to this area of the Great Lakes. Among the thousands laying their claims here was Nels Carlson and his family. They settled on North Manitou Island and cleared land to begin farming. Life in the new land was not easy; the soils here were sandy and poor and people quickly learned to be resourceful. Nels and his son, Will, soon began fishing on Lake Michigan to help feed the family and earn extra income. Fishing was apparently more fruitful than farming for the Carlsons, and in 1906 they moved to Leland and established a fishery.
At this time Leland’s community centered around it’s modest harbor and fishing fleet. As time passed and maritime commerce became less prevalent, Leland’s fish town became a community within a community, the sailors and fisherman being understanding and sympathetic to the often harsh ways of making a living on and around the water. The early morning hours of August 1941 saw Will Carlson and his son, Pete fishing aboard their boat Diamond, between South Fox and North Manitou Islands. The Diamond, was the Carlson’s first boat, a 34’ open boat similar to the early sailing Mackinaws. Rather than being propelled by sail, the Diamond had a gasoline engine, which allowed fisherman to more reliably travel to and from their nets. These nets were often set many miles from safe harbor around the fertile fishing grounds of the islands. Fate intervened that day when a fire broke out in the engine of the Diamond.
The flames soon leapt into the oily wood timbers adjacent to the burning engine and the searing orange flames became a horrific contrast to the cold dark blue waters that surrounded them. The fire could not be extinguished, and it became apparent they were now confronting the unenviable decision of death by fire or drowning. Pete gave the only life jacket to his father, and then cleverly began stuffing fishnet floats into his own shirt for buoyancy. Although it was August, the deep waters of the Manitou Passage took their breath away when they leapt overboard. Floating together in the frigid lake, the radiant heat of the flaming Diamond was of little consolation. Within a short time, the unmerciful effects of cold water took its toll on the elder Carlson. Will soon died of exposure. In desperation, Pete began swimming with his father, the life jacket still on his body, towards North Manitou Island, miles away. Pete was ultimately forced to release his father’s body, as it had become too much of a burden and would clearly imperil his already minute chance of survival. After nearly a full day of swimming, darkness fell. The night was clear with a bright moon; fighting exhaustion, Pete swam on.
In Leland, Percy Guthrie and Manley Cook had gotten the fish tug Irene underway along with others to search for the overdue Diamond. Criss-crossing the area between the two islands, they maneuvered the Irene so as to take advantage of the moon illuminating the water. At 4 a.m., Guthrie and Cook were becoming weary, when a disturbance was seen on the shimmering lake surface. Pete, now unable to speak was frantically slapping and splashing the water to attract attention. The rescuers brought Pete aboard, near death after being in the water for 20 hours. He soon recovered, and his father’s body was found later, still buoyed by the life vest.
The Village of Leland was saddened by the news of the tragedy and rallied to aid the Carlsons. The community wanted to see Pete be able to maintain his family’s business, so generous people in the Village raised a considerable amount of money to help pay for the building of a new fishing boat. Big John Johnson, of Omena, was contracted to build the new gill net tug. 35’ long with a 10’ beam it was powered by a Universal gas engine. The new tug was christened Good Will. The name reflected the kindness of the town, and in the same context, commemorated Will Carlson. The Good Will proved itself a fine boat, and made port in many storms when others failed. When not fishing out of Leland, the Good Will was often seen in Grand Traverse Bay or Saugatuck. Pete and his brother Clarence usually skippered the tug, with Pete’s son, Bill learning the trade aboard her. In 1953 the old universal was pulled, and a 3-cylinder GM truck diesel installed. Carlson’s had a new 40’ steel tug built in 1965, and the Good Will was tied up in Leland and converted to a floating antique store.
A year later, a Mr. Bowers of Elberta, while in Leland, took a liking to the old Good Will and purchased it. His intentions were to run it down to Elberta and restore it as a cruiser. While enroute to Betsie Bay, a storm kicked up. The Good Will began to take water, and the Bowers was forced to beach the boat at Sleeping Bear near Empire, where it sank. The forlorn Good Will looked but a mere speck along the great reach of sand at Sleeping Bear. With perseverance, temporary repairs were made and it was pumped out and refloated. Having time to reconsider his original intentions with the boat, Bowers pulled the engine and moored the Good Will off shore of his cabin on Betsie Bay. There it soon settled to the bottom where it has remained for the last 39 years. The hull could be viewed from the M-22 Bridge between Frankfort and Elberta for decades. Now the Good Will rests nearly entirely beneath the water and silt of the bay, only it’s story surfacing within the maritime lore of our area.
Explore our coast and culture. Today you can visit “Fishtown” and the Carlson Fishery in Leland. Take the ferry to North Manitou island over the waters the Diamond plied and now rests beneath. Visit the Lelanau Historical Museum to learn other fishtown tales, view photos and artifacts or assist the “Fishtown Preservation Society”. See a real historic fish tug like the Good Will at the National Lakeshore’s Glen Haven Cannery maritime exhibits. Learn about the Betsie Bay fisheries at the Benzie Area Historical Museum and at the “Waterborne” exhibit aboard the S.S. City of Milwaukee in Manistee.
Posted by editor at 08:53 PM | Comments (0)
Protest the Giant Zuke Zone
By Nancy Krcek Allen, CCP
Sun contributor
Zucchini seem to be the loaves and fishes of the vegetable world. Somewhere in the Midwest, one monster zuke is probably feeding a family of eight to 12 as I write. In my somewhat snobby chef opinion, once zucchini get much thicker than my little rat terrier’s leg they aren’t much good. Even my frugal grandmother knew enough to toss her overgrown zucchini to the chickens. They would peck half-heartedly at the zukes and the sad remains would turn to compost.
Every summer there is a race between farmers and fat zucchini, which the farmers lose. Could it be they aren’t trying very hard? Seems this country has a love affair with large. We seem to be the only species capable of using giant zucchini: we have spurred on zucchini culinary creativity with fake apple (zucchini) pie and zucchini “pasta” strips. Smaller zucchini and summer squashes (they are mostly interchangeable) are great sautéed, braised, roasted and grilled.
All my life I’ve had to put up with over-large zucchini. I feel that it is time that I speak out. I have done my best to crusade for a ban on monster zucchini, to stop their sale, at least in Leelanau County. I know you may think them harmless, but the large, tough ones take up space at the dinner table that young, tender zucchini might have filled. I grumble to farmers and curl my lip but, alas, I am ignored.
We need zucchini standards. Maybe we can follow the lead of fishermen, but in reverse: any zucchini over 1/2 to 1 inch wide gets tossed back into the garden. I’m hoping to organize a group to educate farmers. I might call it Friends of the Small Zucchini.
Zucchini are part of the family of summer squash. It seems, though, that there is no clear dividing line between squash. In The Classic Zucchini Cookbook, author Andrea Chesman notes that, “From a culinary perspective, the relevant difference among these squashes is how mature they are when we eat them. Summer squash is eaten when immature, before its seeds develop. Winter squash and pumpkins are eaten fully mature, after seeds and a hard shell have developed.” Farmers take note: we eat zucchini when they are i-m-m-a-t-u-r-e.
Although squash is a New World food, zucchini arrived in the U.S. via Italy. In the mid-19th century, a zucchini precursor spread throughout Europe, especially England and Italy, from South America. After World War II, home gardeners fell in love with zucchini and its generous bounty.
Summer squash come in many exciting varieties, colors and shapes. Some of the more common squash include: chayote — pale green with a tough skin and one seed, cocozelle — with raised ribs, crookneck, yellow summer squash, Middle Eastern zucchini — fat and short, pattypan — like flying saucers, globe zucchini, Zephyr — yellow with green-dipped bottoms and classic zucchini. All taste better picked small and young.
Don’t overlook squash blossoms. Although the male blossoms produce nothing while the females produce a little baby summer squash or zucchini, you may stuff, tempura, stir-fry or slice and garnish soup with both types of blossom.
I’ll admit, there is a strange kind of beauty to a huge yellow submarine squash or a dull, forest green nuke-sized zucchini. But I warn you, don’t let yourself be lulled into buying one of them unless you plan on using it for a table arrangement. Sure, it’ll feed a multitude, but at what cost to your culinary reputation?
Squash Tips
• Pick them young and tender.
• Sliced or diced summer squash tend to bitter quickly with exposure to air, so don’t let them sit. Oil them or seal them in a plastic baggie.
• If you want to soften your zucchini (and eat them raw) or reduce the liquid, toss the cut zucchini with a little Kosher salt and let them sit for 10 to 20 minutes. Blot them dry and proceed with your recipe.
• Don’t peel zucchini and summer squash. The skin has wonderful nutrients and fiber. Scrub them if they are waxed or buy unwaxed organic.
• One pound of summer squash yields about 4 cups sliced or diced and 3 1/2 cups grated. Mix different colors of summer squash and zucchini for a more dramatic look to your dish.
• Herbs and squash are natural partners — pair basil, dill, rosemary and thyme for striking flavor combos.
Indian squash and green chili
Adapted from I Hear America Cooking by Betty Fussell
6 servings
1 1/2 tablespoons each: extra virgin olive oil and butter
1 large onion, finely diced
6 medium-small yellow squash or zucchini, diced 1/4 inch
Salt to taste
1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano leaves
2 ears corn, kernels removed
8 ounces fresh, roasted and seeded or canned diced green chilis
1 cup grated Monterey Jack, Muenster or sharp Cheddar cheese
Heat the oil and butter in a heavy skillet. When it is hot, add the onion and sauté until soft. Add the squash, salt and oregano and cover the pan. Cook for 4 to 5 minutes and remove the lid. Add the corn and chili and cook for another 5 to 10 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and scrape the vegetables into a serving bowl. Toss vegetables with the grated cheese while hot.
Trout with rice, zucchini and pine nuts
4 servings
1 cup cooked short-grain brown rice
2 teaspoons finely grated orange or lemon zest
2 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley leaves
4 tablespoons toasted pine nuts, lightly chopped
1 teaspoon salt, to taste
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 cup finely diced or shredded zucchini
4-small whole trout, gutted with head on
Preheat oven to 400F or grill. Stir together the rice, zest, parsley, pine nuts and salt to taste. Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a small skillet and sauté the zucchini until it exudes moisture and then begins to dry. Fold the zucchini into the rice. Taste the filling and adjust the seasoning.
Divide the stuffing evenly between the fish. Place the trout onto a baking sheet covered with parchment paper for the oven or onto a length of foil for the grill. Oil the outside of the whole fish with the remaining oil. Roast or grill the fish until done, about 5 to 10 minutes. Serve hot with lemon wedges.
You may stuff squash blossoms with this mixture. Pick the flowers early in the day and keep them chilled in the refrigerator wrapped in damp paper toweling in a ziplock bag. Before you stuff them, pull out the stamen inside the flower and slice off the stem or baby zucchini (you may leave it on). Rinse and drain the flowers — ants love them. Gently stuff them with the rice mixture (or a meat-rice mixture) and lay them in an oiled baking dish. Drizzle more olive oil over them, cover the pan tightly and bake them in a preheated 400F oven for 30 to 45 minutes.
Chilled zucchini thyme soup
Adapted from The Classic Zucchini Cookbook by Andrea Chesman
4 to 6 servings
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 cup finely diced onion
4 cups diced zucchini
1 cup chicken broth
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme leaves
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 1/2 cups buttermilk
Melt the butter in a medium-sized saucepan and cook the onion over moderate heat until soft but not browned, 3 to 5 minutes. Add the zucchini, broth and thyme. Cover and simmer them until the zucchini is tender, about 5 minutes.
Remove the pot from the heat and allow it to cool. Puree the soup in a blender or food processor until it is smooth, adding the buttermilk if it is necessary for pureeing. Scrape the soup into a serving tureen and stir in the remaining buttermilk. Season soup with salt to taste. Chill the soup and serve it cold. Make this soup early in the day and eat it the same day.
Grilled squash curls
6 to 8 as a party appetizer
2 medium yellow summer squash or golden zucchini
2 medium zucchini
Extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
Wooden skewers
Heat your grill or a cast-iron grill pan. Slice the top stem and bottom from the squash. On a mandoline or Japanese slicer, slice the squash the long ways from stem to tip about 1/16th to 1/8th inch thick. Lay the slices on a sheet pan and paint both sides with olive oil. Salt one side liberally. Lay the slices onto the grill or grill pan and cook just until you see the zucchini slice become transluscent and take on grill marks, about 30 seconds to one minute. Turn it and do the same on the other side.
Remove grilled slices to a plate and finish the remaining slices. Wind each slice onto a wooden skewer—they should undulate like that Christmas ribbon candy—with the wooden skewer through the middle. Serve as a cocktail hors d’oeuvre.
©2002 Nancy K. Allen, CCP
Posted by editor at 07:05 PM | Comments (0)
Queen of Couture is the cutting edge of fashion
By Codi Yeager
Sun contributor
When people begin trickling, and eventually pouring, into Glen Arbor in time for the lazy, summer months, they come for a number of reasons. Pristine beaches, excellent restaurants, good old, up north fun, and of course, shopping all attract these travelers to our usually quiet town. Visitors and locals, alike, throng the streets, bags in hand, and walk eagerly into a variety of quaint little shops. In these humble surroundings, who would guess that a store bearing the title, Queen of Couture, also takes up residence among the familiar specialty retailers?
These days, many mothers and daughters are engaged in an ongoing battle over clothing, but not so with Barbara and Ashley Fehrmann of Chicago. In fact, instead of arguing heatedly over the style of a particular shirt, they decided to begin a business that would satisfy their mutual love of fashion. Queen of Couture opened this past Memorial Day on the deck of Boone Docks restaurant. However, the work put into getting the store ready started long before that. “My dad was our financer, so we had to come up with a business plan to show him that we were serious.” Said Ashley, only 17. The duo then had to obtain a business license before they could even begin attending fashion shows. Once at the shows, the variety and sheer number of clothing items was quite overwhelming. Settling on brands that they themselves wore, mother and daughter had to sit down with their chosen suppliers as the clothes were brought out. “It was difficult knowing how much to order. We didn’t know exactly how many things we could fit into our limited space and we were on a budget.” Ashley remembered.
When the clothes arrived, there was even more work that needed to be accomplished. Inventory had to be taken and all of the items had to be priced and hung out on racks. Outfits were put together and displayed and everything set to order. After the store officially opened, various articles of clothing had to be continually reordered. “That was the hardest thing. We under-ordered by quite a bit.”
The great location, on the deck of a very busy restaurant, keeps a steady flow of customers in the small boutique. The deck is one of the most crowded places in all of Glen Arbor, or so it would seem at times. This is very fortunate for Ashley, whose favorite part of co-running the business is watching people come in and helping them pick outfits. “It’s always so exciting when you see people buy your merchandise, but I’m sometimes sad to see certain things go, because I want everything for myself!” She says, smiling. A tumult of color draws you into the shop, making it almost impossible to pass by. Once inside, it is hard to leave. Interesting and fun things are tucked into every corner, not to mention displaying themselves openly as well. The latest in fashionable clothing from brands such as 3 dots, Hazel, David and Goliath, and others are suspended on their hangers. Sandals, colorful jewelry, and a large selection of stylish purses are also available. Everything is of excellent quality. Teens will certainly enjoy shopping here, but the Queen of Couture has seen customers from age 12 to 75. Now that business is well underway, both women seem quite happy with the results of their efforts.
Besides seeing her store flourish, Ashley has also gained first-hand experience with a career she is serious about pursuing. “I am currently taking business classes in school and plan to attend a business school in Chicago.” She stated. Ashley also hopes to get an internship at a fashion showroom later on. However, she is quick to stress that her true passion lies more in the business aspect than in clothing and fashion. Marketing and predicting new trends are what interest her the most. When asked about what she believes will be the next ‘in’ styles, she replied, “A lot of flowing skirts, blues, greens, and teals for summer and brown for fall. It’s almost a hippie look, but new.” To make sure that her assumptions are correct, Ashley and her mother will be attending another fashion show this October. “We might even get to fly to New York to visit the showroom of one of our suppliers. It would be our first business trip!” She says.
Queen of Couture is fun and new, and with the clear enthusiasm of the ladies involved in running the boutique, it seems as if Glen Arbor will continue to be kept on the cutting edge of fashion.
Posted by editor at 06:15 PM | Comments (0)
Local artist falls deeper and deeper in love with Provence
By Jo Anne S. Wilson
Sun contributor
In the winter of 2003, I fell in love. I was living in one of five stone cottages on an old restored lavender farm in the Provence region of southern France. Several weeks ago, I returned from residing for 10 months at that same farm, and I’m still in love.
Like the human form of a love affair, this one started with subtle attraction and has had its ebb and flow for almost three years. I suppose you could say that the courtship is over and the flame of love burns with the steady heat of a mature relationship. I met wonderful people, both expatriates and native French, and the depth of my adoration for the country remains solid. I learned to separate the French from the government of France and fact from travel brochure hype.
My extended stay gave me time to paint the scenery, write about the people in the village, and truly experience life in France. In June and July, fields of lavender bloom with a luminosity I cannot describe. The rows of blossoms seem to vibrate in their brilliance. The air is filled with the sent of lavender and the buzzing of bees. Carts piled high with bunches of harvested flowers often block the narrow roads as they transport the crop to the local distillery for processing into lavender oil. These slow moving carts impeded my progress, if I were dashing off to meet friends at the café, but they served to remind me about taking time to stop and smell the roses, or in this case, the fragrance of lavender.
No place on earth is a real Garden of Eden, ask any Leelanau County resident what Glen Arbor is like in mid-February. There are inconveniences and tradeoffs in return for experiencing the beauty and culture of any area. Even the most handsome of all princes has his froggy warts.
I came to this region of southern France for many reasons, but mainly for the climate. In winter, there’s almost constant sunshine and virtually no snow. But non-stop sun and provençal blue skies come with a price, and it’s called the Mistral. This cold, northerly wind swoops down the Rhone River valley and clears the air, but it often blows with gale force, for days on end. The incessant wind can be most unsettling, as shutters bang, windows creak, and doors slam shut. I began to understand why legend has it that this interminable wind drove the artist Van Gogh to cut off his ear. In schools, children are given added leniency, when it comes to matters of discipline, during prolonged visits from le Mistral.
On April 30, I left Provence and headed a few hours north to the Ardèche — a region in the foothills of the Cevennes Mountains on the edge of the Massif of Central France. Here’s where Robert Louis Stevenson wrote of his Travels With A Donkey. I first came here, about eight years ago, with now deceased Glen Arbor artist, Suzanne Wilson.
I stayed the month of May in a centuries old farmhouse where Traverse City artist, Jean Larson (www.jeanlarson.com), spends most of her year. Her studio was once the barn where silk worms spun their filaments. The Ardèche region is more wild and rugged and much less touristy than Provence. No more fields of lavender, just miles of vineyards and limestone rock. As much as I love sunny Provence, the Ardèche will always hold a special attraction for me.
Since my return to my home in Traverse City, I’m adjusting to my own culture and tripping over the Frenchness that has grown on me like a third foot. I’ve stopped the automatic greeting I gave new acquaintances and friends in France: a kiss on each cheek instead of a hug or hand shake. Last week, I was invited for cocktails with friends. My hostess circulated with a lovely tray of appetizers. About to help myself, my eyes momentarily widened in dismay and confusion as she said, “Would you like a canapé?” You see, in France, a canapé, is a sofa!
Posted by editor at 05:26 PM | Comments (0)
Local profile: Diane’s Hairstyling
By Codi Yeager
Sun contributor
It’s girls’ day on the town. You choose the hairstyling studio as your destination, and the car fills with lazy summer excitement. From the eager looks upon everyone’s faces, it’s easy to tell that you are imagining how you will look in a few hours. Images of the perfect hairstyle flash through your minds. The road rushes by, and then, there it is. The small, unassuming building sits like a content kitten, surrounded by blossoming lavender and budding day lilies. The car slows as it pulls into the drive and rolls to a stop. Everyone piles out of the door like a clown act. Immediately your noses fill with the sharp and distinct smells of chemicals, shampoos and blow-dried hair. The radio plays softly in the background as you take in the large mirrors and the rows of hairstyling products. The anticipation is almost tangible now, and the room buzzes. Taking a seat, you pick up a book full of ideas for different styles. Your mind races as you flip through the pages. So many choices …
Diane’s Hairstyling Studio is a familiar destination for many of us living in southern Leelanau County. Owned and operated by Diane Aylsworth, the studio provides a friendly and informal environment. Diane herself is a modest professional who has gained the business and respect of countless clients. Most come from around Empire, Glen Arbor and Maple City, but a few make the trip from as far as Suttons Bay and Benzie County. Her customers include men, women and children. A multitude of summer residents make their way to the small studio, as well, coming back year after year for the exceptionally dedicated service.
The current building has been in use for 13 years, but Diane herself has been in the hairstyling business for a whopping 32 years. She says that her interest in this business began when she was young, about first grade, during her childhood in Nebraska. A lady down the street was a beautician and owned a salon. “ I used to go and sit under the coat rack and just watch,” Diane recalled, “I loved everything from the smells to the chaos.”
After attending beauty school in Nebraska, she moved to Empire and started her first shop across from Deering’s Market, where the furniture store is now. Lucky for us, she decided to stay for many more years.
Apart from running her hairstyling studio, Diane does a lot of volunteer work, using her skills as a beautician. For the past seven years she has graciously offered her services to help style hair for the annual school play at Glen Lake Schools. A few years ago she did the hair for the school’s cheerleaders and regularly volunteers her time at the Maple Valley Nursing Home. When asked what motivates her to do this, she replied, “ I can’t say no to kids.” It’s the same with older people. They can’t get out anymore, but they are still as worried about their appearance as any one of us.
Diane has also participated at Career Day, a day at Glen Lake when professionals from all over Leelanau County come to tell the students about their jobs. She remembers how difficult it was getting the kids to interact, so she tried a different approach by telling them about the natural products that they can find at home to help their skin and hair. These include raw eggs and other familiar home ingredients. “Many of the reactions were ‘eww, that’s weird!’, but it got their attention.”
Styles have no doubt changed from the time when Diane first started hairstyling, but there are several different ways that she can keep up to date on the newest trends. She keeps an eye on shows, videos, magazines, books and even computer programs. “It takes about two years from the time that you first see a style to the time that people actually want to try it themselves, so you have time to prepare.” Diane said. She remembers the early 70’s when the hair was actually molded with lacquer and was hard to the touch. Then came the feathered look and the Dorothy Hamel style. The styles gradually grew more natural, but she predicts that the time of full hair, perms and platinum blondes is coming back. When asked what her favorite style of all was, she simply said, “ I enjoy them all. You have to be versatile and not get stuck in a rut. Everyone is different and the challenge is finding what looks best on each individual person.” With products greatly improved, as well as healthier for the hair, people will be looking better and better.
You walk out the door, your hair as soft as a feather and whisking past your face. Your new style is totally trendy, and you can’t wait to get home and try on all your clothes again to see what looks best. Of course, your friends will be there and you’ll all go out for ice cream before heading to bed. The summer is here and nothing makes it more real than the haircut.
Diane’s Hairstyling is located on M-22 in Empire across from State Savings Bank.
Posted by editor at 04:30 PM | Comments (0)
July 14, 2005
An Anchor from the depths is cause for celebration
By Helen Westie
Sun contributor
Empire’s biggest event of the year, the Anchor Day festival, will be held, as always, during the third Saturday in July, which falls this year on July 16. The celebration commemorates the raising of the village’s famous anchor from the depths of Lake Michigan in July of 1977, and its placement at the entrance to the Empire public beach. Who among the longtime residents of Empire will ever forget that exciting day? After all, news does spread like wildfire in a small town like ours.
Two weeks before the first Anchor Day, locals Doug Manning and Michelle Stryker discovered the anchor while canoeing off the shore. They saw the prize clearly in 18 feet of water and reported the rare find to Dave Taghon, who was village president at the time. Doug asked if the museum could use a freighter anchor attached to a large wooden beam. Taghon knew that any relic found in Great Lakes waters belongs to the State of Michigan, so he called the Dorsett Maritime Academy and Oberlin College with his dilemma. He was assured that, if the anchor was properly displayed, Empire could have it, and plans were made at once to raise the anchor.
Manning, Taghon, Tim Barr, Don (Skeet) Welch and John Preston (household names in these parts) collected barrels, chains and wood to construct a raft. Fred Arnold, a grandson of Mrs. Clagett, the dowager who lived on Storm Hill, and his friend Craig Hampton, were experienced divers, and they not only secured the anchor with ropes, but took underwater pictures. Upon seeing the raft for the first time, Chuck Westie arrived with a pole and an American flag to put on top it.
But as it turned out, the one-ton anchor and chain were too heavy to sit on the raft, so the anchor was attached underneath and floated to the shore that way. Taghon’s pontoon boat, meant to transport the anchor, was used to ferry the workers instead.
Jim Johnson, who owned a thriving business in Empire called Case Tractor Sales, loaned a bulldozer to Charlie Bennett, who dragged the anchor and beam the rest of the way on the beach.
Taghon filmed the whole saga with his eight-millimeter movie camera from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., at which time the sunburned men posed alongside the anchor at its final resting place. The film was later converted to 16-millimeter tape, and a short video of the anchor raising will be shown this coming Anchor Day weekend from 2 to 3 p.m. at the Empire Museum, just north of town on M-22.
The high point of Anchor Saturday is always the parade. Even though it has grown in size and color, the parade still passes through town twice. The way it works is that the Empire Business Association chooses a theme, and notifies every business in town, encouraging them to provide a float. Recent themes include: “It’s a small world”, “Clowns”, “We’re Dune better than ever”, “Everything silver (for the 25th anniversary)”, “Celebrating the Great Lakes”, “Sailing”, “Millennium madness” and “Vote America”. This year we’ll celebrate (duh) “Everything about the Anchor”.
Events during the two-day festival include the Fun Run, a Pancake Breakfast on each day, a Farmer’s Market, a model airplane show, various activities at the library, kids games and races at the beach, a barbecue chicken dinner, a sailing regatta, and last but not least, the Anchor Day Street Dance and raffle.
Throughout Anchor Day’s history, Carol Vanderberg has organized the kids’ games and supervised them at the beach. Her husband Mike, of Dunegrass Festival fame, has served on numerous committees such as that of the Anchor Day dance.
The parade has drawn visitors from communities near and far. There are floats; there are horses; there are decorated bicycles; there are walkers in costume. To the delight of the children, many of the floats throw candy. To the delight of housewives, large double rolls of toilet paper are tossed from Jerry Decker’s “honey wagon” pumping truck. Sometimes, a sign on the pumper reads, “Your fudge is our sludge”.
For years a bright green antique car owned by Gil Haley of Glen Arbor has represented Michigan State University. Especially offensive to Ann Arborites and U-M fans is the desperate sign, “Michigan State is THE University of Michigan. This journalist happened to own a 1970 Ford Thunderbird, which was bright yellow with white leather seats. It was a Florida car and in mint condition. I would never have bought such an ostentatious car if it had not been such a bargain, at $1,500. Dubbed “The Banana Boat”, my ride was a counterweight to Haley’s ride. For two years I covered it with bright blue ribbons and “Go Blue” signs. Michigan State was once known as State Agricultural College. A sign on the Banana Boat read: “Cow College is now the udder university of Michigan”.
Every Empire stalwart remembers Chuck Westie’s disreputable, moth-eaten pelican, which appeared in the Anchor Day parade for many years. Chuck was fond of pelicans because of the myth that a mother pelican pierces her own breast and allows the blood to drip into the mouths of her babies, thus nourishing them. He had found this bird in a secondary store and often displayed it with a hat announcing the given year’s theme. Even after Westie’s death in 1994, the pelican kept appearing. His daughter, Libby Westie Brattin, wore a sandwich board as she pulled a wagon, in which sat the moth-eaten pelican. On the sandwich board read the old rhyme:
Oh what a bird is the pelican
His beak holds more than his belly can
He can hold in his beak
Enough food for a week
And I don’t know how
In the hell he can.
Dick Owen, who coordinated the Anchor Day parade until passing the torch on to young leader Ryan Deering two years ago, has the old bird in storage, and perhaps it will make an appearance in this year’s parade.
Upon further review, the staff of the Glen Arbor Sun reluctantly admits that Michigan State University does offer a decent education. – the Editors
Posted by editor at 11:31 PM | Comments (0)
“Ode to Joy” resonates through the Dunes
Press release
One of the most-anticipated events of the summer, the Manitou Music Festival's annual Dune Climb Concert, will be held Sunday, July 17, at 7 p.m. Free to the public, this popular event opens the Festival and is held at the base of the Sleeping Bear Dune Climb. Families are encouraged to bring chairs, blankets, and picnic suppers.
The concert, entitled “Ode to Joy”, features the virtuosity of the world-renowned California Guitar Trio, which will perform a whirlwind of instrumental styles fusing classical, rock, blues, jazz, world music and bluegrass, as well as the quintessential California musical genre surf music. "Ode to Joy" presents music celebrating our national spirit and closes with a gorgeous and energetic rendition of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. The California Guitar Trio was featured on television coverage of the 1998 and 2000 Olympics and at the 2003 Grammy Awards. Their music was sent into outerspace as a wake-up for the Space Shuttle Endeavor's crew.
The always-popular band Songs of the Lakes, Traverse City's "musical ambassadors of the Great Lakes" will open the concert. Since forming in 1983 they have performed in over 1,000 concerts in festival settings or civic events in the United States and Europe. They have also been featured on a number of radio and television shows and have performed with symphony orchestras, choirs, classical and jazz players and dance troupes. Song of the Lakes will be featuring music from their new album "Poets Say".
The Manitou Music Festival is part of the Glen Arbor Art Association, a non-profit organization dedicated to furthering the arts in the Glen Lake area. The Dune Climb Concert is co-sponsored by the Traverse City Arts Council and the Michigan Council for Arts and Cultural Affairs, and is the result of a creative partnership with the National Park’s Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.
Posted by editor at 10:36 PM | Comments (0)
Wildflowers celebrates 25 years with tent sale and birthday bash
By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor
Occasional summer resident and a lovely young woman, Sarah Armbrecht commented several years ago how thrilled she was to dig her hands into the womb of Mother Earth, and get paid for it, as part of her summer job at Wildflowers. What a wholesome way to make a living, she thought.
Or for those just passing through Glen Arbor on a whim, what a delightful way to spend an afternoon. For 25 years now, mesmerized beings have wandered in a virtual trance through Wildflowers owner Donna Burgan’s lush and serene gardens behind the eclectic gift store.
Amidst tiny waterfalls, stone birdbaths and beautiful flora, Wildflowers celebrates its silver anniversary this July with an inventory blowout sale on Wednesday, July 20, from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. and a garden party on July 27 from 6 to 9 p.m., featuring live music and refreshments galore.
“The gardens are a destination for many,” Burgan maintains. “People tell us they stop by Wildflowers after work to be in the gardens for a while because it is so peaceful and lovely. We try to be partners with nature as much as possible. We have more property than necessary so that we can leave a large portion of it wooded.
“We co-exist with wildlife nearly as much. To the delight of children, it is not unusual to see a chipmunk scurry through the shop. They seem very inquisitive as they stop and peek around a basket or pot here and there, then find their way back outside. Occasionally you will see one of us carrying a fuschia plant high in the air, as we try to lure a humming bird to it so we can escort it back outdoors.
“Years ago, I had a doe that I enjoyed talking to as I did floral arrangements outside the back of the shop. She would often come to visit with me as I worked there.”
Posted by editor at 09:40 PM | Comments (0)
Latino with local roots showcases south-of-the-border scenes in photography
By Jacob Wheeler
Sun editor
Ever so slowly the burro trudges along, down the Callejon de Los Muertos, named for the graveyard at the end of the street with the neon-lit crosses. The donkey is carrying big bags of sugar, and his owner raps on every single door with his walking stick to advertise the goods. “¡Se vende azucar aqui!” he yells in a hoarse voice.
The scene unfolds as slowly as the cactus in the Mexican desert grows, and the photography student Maximilian Monroy Miguel Miller has plenty of time to shoot the picture. Miller, whom the locals perceive as a gringo because he grew up in the United States, or El Norte, even though his father is a California-Mexican who taught the boy how to role his ‘rrr’s’, has adjusted well to the laid-back pace of life in this art university town called San Miguel de Allende, an hour west of Mexico City.
Max, who grew up in Burdickville near Big Glen Lake, likes to call himself “El Momento” for his spontaneity and seize-the-day mentality. But today, like most days, he takes his time with everything. “El Momento” awoke, did a little yoga, then walked down to the open-air corner market to buy a mango and a pear for breakfast. Upon returning to his apartment on the Callejon de Los Muertos he painted on a canvas, ripped open a piece of aloe from a plant on his terrace and applied it to some scrapes from a recent bout of futbol with the local boys. He washed his laundry by hand on the roof before walking around town to shoot photographs that are on display and for sale this summer at The Cotton Seed in Glen Arbor.
“I love the moment so much that I want to capture it in my lens,” Max explains. “There are so many beautiful things all around us, but we overlook them because we are moving so fast. Photography slows down those moments and emphasizes the cultural differences in time between Mexico and the U.S. Here time is spent and exploited, used to create pressure and anxiety. But south of the border time just exists.
“The white man has a watch, but the Mexican has time.”
A woman carrying a huge bag of cheese puffs walks by a stand selling oranges and fresh fruits. Ironically, the balls of junk food look just like nectarines in the context of the picture. One wonders how she could carry that huge sack of fruit with her arm outstretched at a 90-degree angle from her body.
In another photo, taken in the jardin in the park, two clowns sitting on a bench look utterly bored, while the joyous women to their right slap each other on the knees and giggle like little girls.
Nearby, in the sprawling market, a child sells balloons, toys, and Chiclets for prices that would send child labor activists in the United States into a frenzy. But Max doesn’t dwell on the socio-political aspects of these scenes. During his time down here — his fifth trip to Mexico — he is an artist. Now that he knows his father’s home country well and speaks fluent Spanish, he doesn’t focus on his own relationship with the land of the Aztecs or struggle to fit in. He pays attention to the people and their everyday habits.
The photographer spies a native woman in huarache flip-flops, sweeping stairs. She displays a strong work ethic and seems obsessed with removing every speck of dust. In the ancient city of Tenochtitlan, Max remembers from his studies, the Aztecs employed 1,000 workers every day whose sole job was to keep the streets clean.
Out by the bus stop is an elderly indigenous couple — he under a sombrero, she with noble grey hair and wearing a shawl. Their skin almost blends into the brownish red wall that makes up the background of the photo. It is the color of clay and earth.
Max sees a woman with a little girl on her back walking on the other side of a red pickup truck, and he thinks of the vibrant and unified family structure in this culture. A woman once asked him at a bus station, ‘How come families in El Norte are all separated?’ He was at a loss for words but mentioned something about us being individualistic. ‘Doesn’t that hurt your family?’ she replied, handing him his bus ticket.
Back in the market he takes a picture from behind of a man looking at a wall covered with gold jewelry and Virgin Marys, painfully tempted to buy something, though who knows how few Pesos are burning a hole in his pocket? This scene must have been the infamous conquistador Cortes’ dream.
Max shoots a cactus against a red wall, mesmerized by the color and textures, green against red. The green plant growing out of the dry ground symbolizes strength and endurance in a developing country.
The camera then points up at a haphazard jumble of telephone wires connected to a pole. “In Mexico stuff gets done, though they’re not as worried about everything being symmetrical,” Max thinks. “For instance, traffic there is ‘organized chaos’. Half of the time there isn’t even a stop sign, but people just slow down and they make it.”
At that, the bi-cultural photographer attaches the lens cap, and returns to his apartment for a lunch of fresh mangoes. Slow food. Slow living.
Posted by editor at 08:43 PM | Comments (0)
ESPN knows Liz, but Hollywood knows TJ
By Norm Wheeler
Sun editor
You know that kid from down around Empire who’s a smart, strapping, good-looking super-athlete who’s on TV all the time? You’re thinking Liz Shimek? Well, yeah, but I’m talkin’ about the OTHER Shimek, TJ, the one who’s been to Hollywood. He’s not just on TV, he’s in movies, too.
The acting bug bit Thomas James Shimek in tenth grade when he got a part in the annual Glen Lake High School spring musical. “I just loved it!” says TJ. His junior year TJ landed the meaty part of Nicely Nicely Johnson in Guys & Dolls, then as a senior he played the lead role of Adam Pontipee in Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. At Aquinas College he didn’t get into the musicals, but he continued to indulge his love of acting. There TJ was the lead in Elephant Man, and he played Rosencrantz in Rosencrantz And Gildenstern Are Dead.
Like his sister Liz after him, TJ also took his prodigious athletic skill with him to college. As a member of Glen Lake’s State Championship Track & Field team of 2000, his senior year, TJ came in second in the state in the shot put and seventh in the discuss. When he graduated from Aquinas College in 2004, TJ was a five-time All American in the shot put and the hammer throw and was NAIA third in the nation in the hammer throw as a senior. “The college shot is 16 lbs,” TJ explains, “and the hammer is 3 feet long and also weighs 16 lbs. I also did the indoor weight throw where you hurl a 16 cm, 35 lb. ball so it doesn’t go so far.” Now TJ’s athletic pursuits include playing softball in Cedar and basketball either at the YMCA in Traverse City or at Town Hall Ball in Glen Arbor, as well as plenty of golf.
So how did TJ get to Hollywood? “I decided after college graduation last summer that I was young and nothing was holding me back,” TJ explains, “so I headed west.” He left town September 6 “as a tourist” and visited Steamboat Springs, Lake Tahoe, then proceeded on to Sacramento and San Francisco. “Then I hit all the beaches of California down the Pacific Coast Highway until I got to San Diego.” He returned to Los Angeles to try his luck at acting. “First I lived for a month and a half in a hostel in Venice Beach above Britney Spear’s dad’s smoothie shop.”
TJ had no connections in California, so he picked up the LA Express, “a newspaper with an entire section devoted to acting jobs.” He started calling numbers in the “Male Actors needed” ads and was called in to interviews. “They just wanted my money,” TJ admits, “they promised to make me a portfolio but they ripped me off.” Finally he got in touch with one good agency and ended up sitting in the audience of the Steve Harvey Big Time Show on the WB. “They paid me $54 to sit and cheer for about 4 hours. While I was there I asked around. “Where do I go?’”
Then TJ learned “the biggest casting agency in the US is Central Casting in Burbank. For $20 they took my picture and had me fill out a detailed resume of all my physical attributes: eye and hair color, height and weight, whether I had tattoos, what sports experiences I had, whether I could water ski, everything.” This led to a job on an Asian TV show called Love in Harvard for three weeks. “I worked 18 – 20 hours a day for $90 a day. One day we worked 27 hours straight!”
So TJ Shimek got into the habit of calling the Central Casting Hotline every day. “You listen to what TV needs they have that fit you for the following day. Often you get turned down when you call – they already got somebody – but I kept at it.” Soon TJ found himself working five or six days a week as an extra in TV and movies, and his list of shows is right out of the entertainment rags you see by the check-out counter. Here’s the Hollywood resume of what TJ did. Television: CSI-New York (circus-goer); Alias (hotel guest): Las Vegas (five times as a casino patron); Crossing Jordan (security guard); Seventh Heaven (pizza parlor patron); HBO Entourage & Six Feet Under (office employee); Listen Up with Jason Alexander (construction worker, met Jason); Complete Savages (a gay pride parade participant); Dante, TV pilot (“they took me to the Anaheim Angels locker room where I was the quarterback made to look naked but wearing rolled up boxers. Watch for that in the fall!”); My Name is Earl, TV pilot (“I danced for hours as a gay bar customer.”) Movies: Jim Carey’s Fun With Dick & Jane (bank customer); Speilberg’s War of the Worlds with Tom Cruise (”a bunch of us banged on Tom Cruise’s car tryin’ to get him to stop ‘cause he had the last working car in the world”); Bewitched with Nicole Kidman and Will Ferrell (TV audience member); Forty Year Old Virgin with Steve Carrell from Anchorman (a dancer in a bar scene); Kicking and Screaming with Will Ferrell (“I met Will and taught him how to throw the hammer. Then they did three takes with four different cameras of me throwing the hammer. I was supposed to be featured, but then they cut out the scene!); Dying for Dolly with Usher (bouncer); Single White Female 2 (bouncer); American Pie 4 (a Julliard Music School trombone player). TJ also was in two commercials, one a Macdonald’s Super Bowl commercial, and the other a match.com dating service commercial.
You’re probably wondering how much money TJ made in front of all those cameras while his little sister Liz was bouncing leather in basketball arenas all last winter. “You get California minimum wage, $6.75/hr,” TJ explains. “You get a minimum of $54 dollars up to an eight hour day, and they are required to provide one warm full course meal, not just burgers and fries, for every six hours you work. (There’s also a meal penalty of $6.75 for every 15 minutes over the six hours.) Over eight hours is time-and-a half, and over ten hours is double time.” For the seven months he was in Hollywood TJ made just enough to live and to keep gas in his pickup truck. “My food expenses were few because they fed us.” He rented a room, “basically just a queen sized bed,” for $500 a month from a lady who was paying $1100 a month for a tiny 20’ by 30’ house. “It was at Franklin and Gower, and if you looked down my street you could see the famous “Hollywood” sign just above my house,” TJ laughs.
Did he make any friends, or get to know any celebrities? “You saw so many people over and over again on the set,” TJ says, “but the people there were just all about themselves. The only friendly people I met were from the Midwest, but there was not much free time. I was working all the time or tired.”
Sister Liz Shimek is determined to go back to the NCAA Championship game with the Michigan State Spartans, but TJ has no plans to go back to Hollywood. “I just got a job with SBC Ameritech out of Traverse City doing advertising and sales for their yellow pages book,” he concludes. After eight weeks of training in Troy that commences next week, TJ will be back around here “catching Liz’s games, starting a real life.” So TJ Shimek had a pretty adventurous year himself, and that’s the story of The Other Shimek!
Posted by editor at 07:01 PM | Comments (0)
Needing a little green? Fill your life with salad days
By Nancy Krcek Allen
Sun contributor
Part two in a series of food articles by this renowned chef
The French and other Europeans have long considered green salads the height of culinary satisfaction. They have devised creative ways to transform salad greens into appetizers, main courses and as cleansing and digestive delights between a main meal and dessert. I have a hunch that it’s the salad (and vegetables) that the French eat alongside their red wine that keeps them so healthy.
You may be one of a silent minority who still cling to iceberg lettuce and out of season tomatoes. (Somebody is buying them or they would disappear the way of hacky-sacks and hula-hoops.) Look around your produce department and farmer’s markets and you’ll see an explosion of salad choices. You could bypass the iceberg lettuce for baby spinach, radicchio, chicory, escarole, Bibb, endive, baby chard, oak leaf, green or red leaf, flat leaf parsley, baby mustard greens or spicy arugula.
Salads are the ideal minute meal. With a little preparation you can be dining in under 20 minutes. Salads seem easy to toss together, but the best ones require some foresight. If you doubt me, think back to your experience of potluck salads. They are notorious for having a garage sale jumble of ingredients that look as if their makers simply tossed in whatever was in the refrigerator and pantry.
With too many competing flavors and textures, how can a taster discern any one personality or flavor? It would be as if you had put on every garment in your closet and headed to a gathering. Your friends would be confused: are you going to a wedding, snow-skiing or to work in the garden? Salads need the same kind of careful thought that you put into what you wear. Even a salad needs personality to be popular.
There is an elegance and art to making a memorable salad; combinations are everything and yes, less is more. Restrain yourself when you choose your salad ingredients: Indonesians blanket shreds of curly cabbage, cucumbers, fried tofu, cooked green beans and carrots with a spicy peanut sauce. Californians compose apples and walnuts over endive. Italians anoint arugula and toasted pine nuts with olive oil, salt and lemon. The French toss butter lettuce, bitter greens like chicory and escarole with mustard vinaigrette.
You don’t need a refrigerator door clanking with heavy, bottled dressings; sidestep them for homemade alternatives. Young French cooks learn to whisk together mustard vinaigrette at a tender age. Italians wisely use only extra virgin olive oil, either fresh lemon juice or red wine vinegar and salt. Nothing else. First toss clean greens with extra virgin olive oil and salt until the leaves glisten then splash them with good vinegar or a refreshing squeeze of lemon.
Salads fall into two general categories: tossed or composed. Ingredients in tossed salads are tossed with a dressing. Ingredients for composed salads are arranged on platters or plates. Tossed salads have the advantage of even flavor: every bite of greens is coated with the dressing. Composed salads have the advantage of a composition that can be prepared ahead and wait for dressing.
For private salads, anything goes, but when you take a salad out into the public domain there are some simple rules that you might consider. They will make your salads appealing to everyone.
• Raw onions (scallions, too) and hunks of chopped raw garlic are out. You may however do as the Japanese and soften sliced or chopped raw onion by piling it into a strainer and pouring boiling water over it. You may also microwave the offending allium for a few seconds. You may rub the salad bowl with a smashed or sliced clove. Save the raw garlic for your salad dressing. I advise you to cook garlic or shallots lightly before using them in dressings or salads.
• Tear clean, dry greens into bite-sized pieces — they are easier to eat.
• Toss the salad with its intended dressing just before serving. This not only keeps your creative statement intact, but it also saves diners from having to struggle with the dressing (and possibly splashing themselves).
• Remove seeds and ribs from bell peppers. They are bitter. Red and roasted peppers are tastier than green or raw bell peppers.
• Peel cucumbers. The skins are usually waxed; if the cucumbers are garden-fresh, lightly peel them.
• Toast all nuts; it brings out their flavor.
• Wash your greens in cold water and spin them dry and layer them with paper toweling in ziplock bags then refrigerate.
Salads have the power to cleanse, rejuvenate, and cure even the darkest of afflictions. If your local grocer doesn’t provide enough of this wild, healing profusion visit Oryana and the Farmer’s Markets or join a C. S. A. like Meadowlark Farm or Sweeter Song Farm and stock up—or grow your own.
Impromptu salads
1. Think of combinations you've had that wowed you. Translate them to salads. Impromptu salads can be all vegetable or various ingredients tossed with greens. What about classics like tomatoes, mozzarella and basil? You could borrow your combos from what produce is seasonal and from other dishes you've eaten or prepared.
• Cooked wild rice, currants, and toasted almonds on greens with mustard vinaigrette
• Cooked shrimp, cucumbers, pickled sushi ginger, tossed with greens, rice vinegar and toasted sesame oil
• Roasted chicken breast chunks with chopped tomatoes and shredded cheese over greens with toasted cumin vinaigrette
• Chickpeas and shredded carrots on baby spinach with a lemon-tahini dressing
• Sliced turkey tossed with avocado and greens and a salsa, olive oil and vinegar dressing
• Tuna, tomatoes and chickpeas on greens with a basil-mustard or basil-mayonnaise dressing
• Smoked salmon, corn, cucumbers and steamed diced redskin potatoes on greens with a dill vinaigrette
• Baby spinach topped with sliced pears, blue cheese, toasted walnuts and mustard vinaigrette
2. Look in your pantry and refrigerator. Haul out what looks appealing. Isn't always something surprising hiding in the back that makes the search worthwhile? Besides this is a good way to clean out the refrigerator.
3. Think ahead. Keep a stock of sliced turkey, canned beans, tuna, and bottled salsas. Make up vinaigrettes, seasoned oils, and flavored vinegars on a day when you have time.
4. Chain cook: Make extras when you do cook. Cut extra vegetables and cook double the amount of chicken breasts or shrimp for dinner. For the next few days make impromptu salads with your bounty.
5. Pick up pre-cleaned greens and vegetables. If you're anything like me, I eat a lot more salads if someone else cleans the greens. Another alternative that works: clean your greens as soon as they enter your kitchen. Store them layered in paper towels in a ziploc bag. They'll last a week or so. Don't cut them with a knife — this will promote browning. Tear them instead. I said tear — NOT twist and torture. Think of your greens as delicate tissue.
6. Keep it simple and think color. If you're really stumped for an appealing combination, choose only three items by color, like steamed carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower. Toss them with toasted pine nuts, golden raisins, olive oil and lemon.
Secrets of vibrant vinaigrettes
• Vinaigrettes consist of oil and acid or combination of acids. The classic proportions are 1 part acid to 3 or 4 parts oil.
• Vinaigrettes may contain seasonings and an emulsifier. An emulsifier holds the oil and acids in suspension. It may be mustard, egg, nut butters, ground nuts or spices, or a vegetable or fruit puree. Sauté aromatic vegetable seasonings like onions, shallots, or garlic briefly to help keep the vinaigrette better tasting for longer.
• Oils may be demonstrative (strong) or non-demonstrative (mild). Mix (and taste) them in proportions so that they balance each other: 2/3 part canola oil and 1/3 part sesame oil.
• Your acids may be citrus, fruit or vegetable juices, vinegars, yogurt, or wine. Match and layer them to deepen the flavor of your vinaigrette. Try the three acids trick: mix a citrus juice, a vinegar, and a little wine or alcohol together to form the acid component.
• To soften low-fat acidic vinaigrettes, add a little sweetening, chopped tomato or a vegetable puree, salt, or soy sauce.
Classic mustard vinaigrette
1 tablespoon (3 teaspoons) Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons vinegar or acid combination
9 to 12 tablespoons oil (1/2 to 3/4 cup)
Set your bowl up so that it won't move. A damp paper or cloth towel wrapped around the bottom forms a solid base. Place Dijon mustard into a mixing bowl. Add acid/acids and whisk well to combine.
Measure out oil/oils into a container with a spout or lip. Slowly, drop by drop, whisk the oil into the acid-mustard mixture. If you go too fast, the vinaigrette will break—it won’t be able to break up the oil droplets and emulsify them quickly enough.
When the vinaigrette begins to visibly thicken and emulsify, increase the drops of oil to a thin stream. Taste the vinaigrette with a lettuce leaf before you add all the oil. Adjust the flavors of the vinaigrette with oil, acid, sweetener, salt and pepper, and herbs. If your vinaigrette breaks--place a little more mustard into a clean mixing bowl and slowly, drop by drop, whisk the broken vinaigrette into it.
SAVE YOUR ARM and make this in a food processor or blender.
This is my northern Michigan adaptation of the French Nicoise salad with tuna, green beans, tomatoes, and olives—all food found in or near Nice. It is a composed or arranged salad. American salads are those with protein, carbohydrate and vegetable—a full meal.
Michigander American salad
Four servings
Mustard Vinaigrette
1 large head hydroponic Bibb lettuce, whole leaves, clean and dry
1 cup drained and rinsed canned Great Northern white beans
8 small new redskin potatoes, steamed or boiled till tender
1 pound smoked whitefish, skinned, boned, and flaked
1 pound asparagus, steamed
Prepare the vinaigrette. Pour the mustard and vinegar into a blender. With the machine running, pour the oil in a slow, thin stream into the mustard and vinegar until thickened. Toss the white beans with some of the vinaigrette. Slice the potatoes while warm and toss them with some of the vinaigrette and set the remainder aside.
Arrange the Bibb leaves on a platter. Arrange the beans, whitefish, asparagus, and potatoes decoratively over them. Serve with the vinaigrette.
©2003Nancy K. Allen, CCP
This is called a simple salad because it is only salad greens dressed with oil, salt and vinegar. Bitter greens and olive oil stimulate the liver to help move a fatty meal.
Tri-colore Italian digestive salad
4 to 6 servings
1 small head radicchio
1 small head tender leaf lettuce
1 small bunch arugula, spinach or watercress
extra virgin olive oil
red wine vinegar
salt and pepper
Pull the leaves from the head of radicchio and leaf lettuce. Wash them under running cold water. Drain and salad spin them. To keep them, layer the leaves in a plastic zip lock with paper toweling. Wash, drain and spin the arugula, spinach or watercress.
When you are ready for the salad, tear the greens into bite-sized pieces. Toss them with olive oil to coat and a bit of Kosher salt. Sprinkle on the vinegar gently. Taste as you go. Grind with fresh black pepper and toss again. Serve the salad immediately.
©2001Nancy K. Allen, C.C.P
Raeeda's fetoush salad
Sumac dressing
1/4 cup each: olive oil and fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon sumac powder, available at Middle Eastern stores
salt and pepper to taste--optional
2 cups thinly sliced red onions, rinsed in boiling water
3 cups lightly packed mint leaves or Romaine, washed, dried and torn
1 cup parsley leaves, washed and dried
2 medium tomatoes, wedged or coarsely chopped
1 pita, toasted and torn
Whisk all the ingredients of the dressing together and set aside. Prepare the salad ingredients. Toss the onions, mint or Romaine, parsley and tomatoes with the dressing. Top with bits of toasted pita. Pass a small bowl of sumac powder for each diner to sprinkle on his or her salad, if desired.
The sumac is slightly sour and somewhat fruity flavored. It makes a wonderful dressing for any summer vegetable salad. You could also toss this salad with chopped romaine.
Greek salad with shrimp
Assorted greens
Fresh tomatoes, quartered
Cucumber, peeled and sliced
Scallions, thinly sliced
Sliced radishes
Shrimp, peeled and de-veined
Kalamata olives
Feta dressing or Red wine vinegar and olive oil
Salt and pepper
Proportions are not as important to this salad as the arrangement; use it to delight your eyes. Wash, dry and chop the greens. Arrange the greens on a large platter, which has been rubbed with a garlic clove. Cover the greens with rows of tomato, cucumber, radish and shrimp. Sprinkle with the scallions and olives. You may prepare the feta dressing or whisk 1 part red wine vinegar and 4 parts olive oil, salt and pepper. Pour dressing over the salad and serve.
Feta dressing
Makes 2 cups
1 cup crumbled feta cheese
1 cup mayonnaise
1 mashed or minced clove of garlic
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon dry oregano
1 teaspoon Worchestershire sauce
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Blend the ingredients together in a food processor or blender. Will keep at least one week refrigerated.
Parsley panzanella
1 pound day old Italian country style bread--about 4 thick slices, cubed
3 fresh ripe medium tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and diced--save tomato water and seeds
1 cucumber, peeled, seeded, and diced into 1/4 inch cubes--save cucumber seeds
1/4 cup finely diced red bell pepper, optional
2 cups packed fresh Italian parsley leaves, coarsely chopped
8 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil--or more to taste
3 to 4 tablespoons red wine vinegar
salt and pepper
Preheat the oven to 350F. Toast the bread cubes until they are golden. This step is optional but I like the extra flavor it gives the salad. After you've finished preparing the tomatoes and cucumber, mix the tomato water and cucumber water, strained from seeding, in a large mixing bowl. Toss the cooled bread into this mixture and if there is any excess, squeeze it out gently. Discard the liquid.
Add the cucumber, tomato, optional pepper, parsley to the bread. Whisk together the dressing and toss it with the bread and vegetables. Season with salt and pepper. Set this aside for 30 minutes to marinate. Taste and adjust seasonings.
©2001Nancy K. Allen, CCP
Posted by editor at 06:07 PM | Comments (0)
Koolaid
By Lois Beardslee
Sun contributor
Part of an ongoing series by this renowned local Indian author on Native American issues
While she dipped and swished at the white five gallon bucket, Ima Pipiig fantasized about addressing the audience: “I’d like to answer that one question about Indians that has been on everybody’s lips…
“Why is Koolaid the official beverage of pow wows, spiritual gatherings, and other Indian events?”
The water bug she chased was dark and shiny, smaller than a ladybug, and faster than a speeding bullet. It cruised around in the top centimeter of the water bucket adjacent to the kitchen cupboard taunting her, until she approached with the small aluminum saucepan that served as the water dipper. Then it dove down the depth of the full four gallons or so that had been heaved up the steps to the cabin that sat tilted precariously on the glacier-smoothed boulders that provided the only high and dry ground on her scant acreage. The keenness of the bug dumfounded her, and she felt as helpless against the small creature as she did against society in general. Eventually, getting the bug out of the bucket became a moot point, one that would require more calories than a bugless bucket was worth; so Ima Pipiig made a false dip, chasing the bug downward, then passed again, filling her dipper several times.
The water was to be boiled on the small propane stove, for at least a minute, five would be better, she supposed. This was to eliminate the Giardia, the intestinal virus that inhabited the lake water. It was carried by sport fishermen and beavers, in their feces. Neither was particularly careful about whether or not they despoiled her family’s drinking water. It was just as easy to blame it on the beavers as on the fishermen. After all, they had lodges all around the lake. They were, in fact, Ima Pipiig’s only neighbors. The village on the railroad where her distant Cree cousins rented out cabins to the sportsmen was at least an hour and a half away by boat and by car.
The road to the remote inland lake, now the domain of multinational logging corporations, had been part of a small network of roads that serviced Indians and white miners. Now it was heavily washboarded from the logging trucks, its courduroy base of cedar logs exposed to the air and rotting. The five miles to “civilization” could be traveled only at a snail’s pace. Sometimes the wild-eyed moose that ran along the open roadway ahead of the truck, thinking, mistakenly, that they were being chased, would travel faster than the family’s vehicle. That was fine by Ima Pipiig and Lester. If the truck crept up on a bull moose too quickly, it would sometimes stop, turn, lower its head, and threaten with its antlers. Lester wasn’t so sure he could outrun a moose in reverse, and he didn’t relish the thought of backing into an oncoming logging truck, blazing along at breakneck, shock-absorbed speed, knowing that it had the right of way over mere civilians and their tiny cars.
Here, in the confines of the Chapleau Game Preserve, the largest game preserve in the world, timber harvesting had become king, and the Crown had given forth the northern Ontario resources that time and distance had preserved for the creatures of the woods, the moose, the bear, the ravens, the eagles and the hawks--and, well, the Indians. Because Indians were, to the consumers and profiteers of ancient resource mismanagement, no larger than the small black beetle that Ima Pipiig confronted in her water bucket in today’s challenge for potable water.
After the water was cool, after it had become room temperature in the warm, poorly insulated wooden structure, Ima Pipiig would make koolaid for the kids. It would be a weak koolaid, barely sweet and somewhat pink… just dark enough to cover up the boiled water fleas and the odd organic materials that existed in the water of a shallow lake. She did this as her mother had done. And she did not explain to her children that the family had once had access to the clearest, coolest, cleanest water on the face of the earth… that they no longer owned those precious shorelines… that they had been taken away and sold to the highest bidders—the developers, the railroads, the loggers, the shippers, the government officials, and eventually, anybody with a good enough job to afford a summer cottage. But not the Indians
So her children developed a taste for koolaid. Weak koolaid, warm koolaid. It didn’t matter. Strong koolaid over ice became for them a delicacy, as it had become for Ima Pipiig. And in a changing culture in which the traditional Indian teas were looked upon as boorish and trashy, but juices and milk were either too expensive or hard on an aboriginal digestive tract, koolaid became a beverage of choice, a symbol of Indianness. Ima Pipiig giggled at this odd symbol of snobbishness as she mixed the koolaid and sugar into the big glass jar. She screwed on the lid that kept out mosquitoes, dust, and mice, and she shook the big jar. Then she dished up big slabs of wild blueberry pie, three inches thick, solid and perfect, with a golden crumbled crusting of rolled oats and brown sugar on top. She kicked open the green wood of the wobbly screen door at its base and stepped outside, old ceramic plate and glass of koolaid in hand. Then she skittered between the jack pines and the blueberry bushes that pushed forth from the immense boulder that was her summer home, stepped gingerly down the steep, smooth rock face where it touched the water, and settled in to watch her children swim with the beavers. One young beaver swam close to Ima Pipiig, blew water from its nostrils with an insistent sneeze-like puff that sprayed her toes, blinked several times, then dived, flapping its tail loudly at the conclusion of its dive. Ima Pipiig was startled and rocked backward. The kids guffawed and pointed, and while she had their attention, Ima Pipiig held up the plateful of big pie, nodded toward the house, and called out, “Koolaid’s ready.”
Posted by editor at 05:18 PM | Comments (0)
A horse lover pens her early memoir in the saddle
By Nadine Gilmer
Sun contributor
Like many horseback riders I began riding at a young age, although I started later than most. Since the day I learned what horses were I have loved them. When my parents and I drove to Traverse of Empire I would watch out the window for horses in their pastures. I thought they were so beautiful. I also began to draw horses, and by the time I was five, my drawings were distinguishable as four-hoofed beauties. Once I mastered drawing, I learned in school to write about my first love, a skill I used to pen a book about a life with horses. My father would take me to the library to check out books about horses and read them to me at home. As young people often do I soaked up all his words. My friends and I would collect Barbie horses and make herds with stallions, lead mares, watch horses and everything in between.
Then one glorious day when I was eight, my father asked me if I wanted riding lessons. I stared at him, dumbfounded. I expected him to shout, “just kidding!” but he didn’t. It turned out that he had recently run into an old friend who now owned a horse and gave young people lessons. I was ecstatic. I was to wake up at 7:30 on Saturday mornings … where … for my lessons. Initially, I rode a Quarter Horse Arabian mix named ‘Tis A Boy. The first time I sat on top of him I was terrified of his size. But I gradually grew accustomed to his monstrous height and everything else about him. I rode ‘Tis A Boy for almost two years before my first horse had to change barns.
After that I stopped riding for almost a year, until one day Dad took me to another woman who gave lessons. I enrolled in a summer program that was designed to teach young people how to care for a horse if they ever wanted to own one, themselves. Three mornings a week we would wake up early and muck out stalls; feed and water the horses; and give them their minerals. Later, we were each assigned a horse, and we rode together in a group. I rode a tall buckskin name Beaut (short for beauty). Occasionally, we would ride in the ring where our riding instructor shouted out suggestions to us, or we would ride along a trail.
The following summer our group was smaller because some of the girls had gotten their own horses. I was terribly envious of them, so even after the program ended I rode whenever I could. Eventually, my parents leased a horse for me, but I had to work to keep him at the barn. I worked four mornings a week and received $6 an hour, but half of that went to pay off the lease. Every day after I had cleaned the barn and completed the morning chores I would go riding. The horse that I leased was named Clipper. Like ‘Tis A Boy, he was tall, but of the color bay (brown with black stocking sand with a black mane and tail). I leased him for a year, and during that time I received two lessons a month. But when I didn’t have lessons I ride off on trails through the maple trees, ferns and amber fields. I was very happy on top of my beloved Clipper, but all good things come to an end. After a year we were no longer able to lease him, but I could still ride in exchange for doing chores.
Today my friends and I all ride, and they participate in 4H. Our equestrian 4H location is called Hidden Beach Equestrians and is run by Eleanor Miller. The horse 4Hers hold horseshows in this summer, so they are extremely busy. The first 4H open show this year was held on June 19; the second was the 4H achievement day show on July 2. Our 4H’ers will also appear at this year’s fair, from August 7-13, with horse shows on Monday, August 8 and Friday, August 12.
In the springtime the 4H’ers hold a “horse bowl”. They organize teams and study everything there is to know about the equestrian world, before meeting people from other 4H groups and holding a competition to determine who knows more about horses. 4H also offers a kid camp, where participants learn the basics of riding over a few days. The children are taught how to ride, lunge, brush and lead their horse. They also learn breed names, colors and safety precautions that will protect them when riding and being around horses. The last day of camp features a show where they can impress their friends and families with the new skills they’ve acquired. Kids camp this year runs from August 22-26.
Apart from 4H there are other equestrian-related events happening in northern Michigan. August offers an endurance race on the shore-to-shore trail, which has one leg stretching from Empire to Oscoda and another from Mackinaw City to Cadillac. The riders travel 50 miles a day for five days.
In addition, Horse shows by the Bay, an excellent opportunity to see Michigan’s best hunter/jumper riders, gallops into Traverse City from July 13-17. Horse shows by the Bay is our area’s $25,000 Grand Prix, and most shows are open to the public.
So gear up for a busy summer that could leave you hoarse. From Horse Shows by the Bay, 4H and endurance riding, there’s plenty to fill your saddle.
Posted by editor at 04:24 PM | Comments (0)
Trail dangers: What to watch out for in the Sleeping Bear Dunes
By Jane Greiner
Sun nature correspondent
With recent press coverage of the cougars in our area, many people worry about the dangers of hiking the trails in the National Park, particularly if they have small children.
When people asked me about it, I responded that I am much more afraid of getting lost or injured on a trail than of being attacked by any wild animal. But when I said that, I had no solid information about the real dangers of the Park.
Here is some helpful information from Dusty Shultz, Superintendent of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. She wrote in an email: “In 2004 the Park responded to 16 search and rescue incidents, involving 34 victims, of whom 12 were ill or injured.”
From January 1, 2000 to June 1, 2005 the park responded to 60 land searches, two water searches, 36 rescues on land and four rescues on water.
Shultz pointed out that most searches are resolved within 24 hours. A common occurrence is for groups to get separated on the Dune Climb. On many occasions the lost people, often children, do not even perceive themselves as lost.
Rescues, on the other hand, are always serious. “A significant portion of our rescues result from unprepared visitors. Most of our rescues occur at the Dune Climb or the Lake Michigan Overlook on the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive. Our experience shows that people are often unprepared for the difficult walk in the sand, do not take water, are not in good physical condition for the activity, hike during the hottest part of the day, and/or overestimate their abilities.”
As for cougars and bears, Shultz wrote, “Our wildlife encounters are much more infrequent. We are only aware of one situation with a park volunteer, who encountered a cougar on the Old Indian Trail. While bears are occasionally seen in the Lakeshore, again, we are unaware of any bear/human conflict.”
So the Park statistics confirm that people are far more likely to get lost or sick or injured, than they are to be attacked by cougars or bears.
My own experience is the same. I have never seen a cougar or a bear here, but I have been lost twice while walking in the woods by myself.
In both cases I had a compass with me and was able to find my way out fairly quickly. But the speed at which I became lost was what was astounding.
The first time, I was walking off the west end of Boekeloo road (off M-22, south of Empire), following an unmarked trail a short distance into the woods. I saw a little stream to my left and walked over to it. When I looked up to get back to the trail on which I had come in, I could not see it. Nothing looked familiar. In a matter of minutes I had gone from feeling secure and knowing where I was to being disoriented and unable to find my way out. Luckily, using my compass, I was able to find my way out, although I did not find my way back onto the original trail.
The other time, I got turned around twice while mushroom hunting one afternoon off of County Road 677, not more than a mile from home. I had gone in perhaps 50 yards from the road, crossed a rather deep ravine, and climbed the other side, hunting mushrooms as I went along. After looking around more, I decided to give up and go back to my car. I turned to face the direction from which I had come, but something was wrong. I could hear road noise off to my left. But I knew the road, and my car, had to be straight ahead.
At first I figured that my ears were deceiving me and the road really had to be across the gully, right in front of me. I was so sure that I almost started walking that way without even checking my compass.
Luckily I decided to check my compass even though I felt confident of my direction. I was puzzled to see that, contrary to what I believed, the road was off to my left, exactly where the road sounds were coming from.
Still, I was so sure that the road lay straight ahead, directly across the ravine, I considered the possibility that my compass could be wrong, perhaps thrown off by the metal in my belt buckle.
Finally I remembered Richard Bach’s book Stranger to the Ground. In it he wrote about flying jet planes at night, and how you can get so disoriented that you begin to doubt your instruments. If you follow your instinct instead of your instruments, you can fly right into the ground. You have to trust your instruments!
So I trusted my compass and went against my whole body, which wanted so much to go the other way. By the time I got to the other side of the ravine I was again turned around, again trying to head off at right angles from where I should be going. After that I kept my compass in my hand the rest of the way.
I followed my compass and came out of the woods within sight of my car. Had I not brought a compass, I believe I would have walked in circles for hours. This experience underlined for me once again that anyone can get lost at any moment.
My unofficial inquiry into the dangers of the Park has brought me to several conclusions. First, don’t worry about the cougars — you will probably never see one. Second, do get an inexpensive compass for each person in your family who goes hiking with you and make sure they carry it. Finally, read the signs and the warnings and use common sense about the physical challenges of trails and, in particular, dune climbs.
Having taken these simple precautions you should feel free to enjoy the National Lakeshore in safety.
Posted by editor at 04:21 PM | Comments (0)