A Quick Romp to Minnesota

Sometimes, little things sneak up behind me and whack me upside the head, reminding me of how quickly time flies. This past week, the little Reminder Goblin informed me that it has been THREE YEARS since I went to Sharon Mennonite Bible Institute (SMBI) for a term.

I made lots of friends at SMBI, and out of those friends was formed a tight-knit bunch that went the extra mile to spend time with each other. Two summers ago, I hosted this bunch at my parent's place, showing them the wonders of rural Iowa.

The Swinging Bridge in Columbus Junction
The Cheese Factory, Kalona Bakery, Central Discount, and Coffee Shop

We spent the weekend taking photos*, singing old choir songs, eating loads of food, and playing games. I showed Doyle the underbelly of a crop duster that we were chasing on a 4-wheeler. We got too close and were rewarded with a sticky pesticide mist. I hooted and got us out of there, none the worse, but poor Doyle had an allergic reaction that lasted for a few weeks.

At the end of the reunion, we signed our names at the bottom of a pact, stating we would certainly do this sort of thing again.

 I believe that, if he were alive today, John Hancock and I would be friends.

This year, Doyle graciously declared he would host the reunion at his cozy homestead in Pennington, Minnesota. I was only vaguely aware that people actually LIVE that far north. I picked up Matthew at the Minneapolis airport, which was about halfway to Doyle's from my place. We then journeyed together to Doyle's, arriving Friday evening.

Of the original group, only Matthew and I made it to Doyle's. To be fair, two of our bunch (Karlin and Jeanie) have gotten married since our reunion in 2011, and married people aren't allowed to make random visits to the Far North, so we forgive those two. There is NO EXCUSE for the others, except for Shelby who is serving the Lord in Oregon, Tanisha who was helping in two weddings, and Rolanda who is teaching school in Illinois. I'm sure the others all had excuses too, but I don't know what theirs were.

Not one to let his guests sit around, Doyle immediately introduced us to "Broomball", a sport played with an ice rink, hockey sticks, and a miniature soccer ball. Doyle's family had set up an ice rink in their driveway, complete with sidewalls and hockey goals. We enthusiastically played for a few hours, sliding around the slick ice with our tennis shoes. Even though I scraped my shin up when I tripped over the sidewall, I very much prefer broomball to hockey. Perhaps it's because I'm not very steady on ice skates and I have a healthy fear of losing my teeth from flying pucks.

As an amateur photographer with a 6-year-old point-'n-shoot camera, I'm fairly pleased with this photo.

On Saturday, we roused around 9am and headed out to get some serious fishing done. Doyle had rented a heated ice-fishing cabin out on Lake Bemidji. I have heard only good things about fresh walleye but unfortunately I'd have to settle for some perch, since the walleye season had just closed.

We got our fishing licenses and headed out, loaded down in a 15-passenger van, hauling a trailer full of gear and snacks. We drove RIGHT OUT ON THE ICE! I can hardly even believe it. I suppose people drive out on frozen bodies of water in Iowa, but only when they have nothing to live for and wish to die in a horrible frozen drowning sort of way.

 Lake Bemidji. A full-sized snowplow truck carved this avenue for fishermen.

The Graber in me just had to know how much ice I was standing on. Just as I began to sorely miss my tool pouch, I found a tape measure in the cabin. 31" is more than enough to drive on, but not quite enough to insulate our ears from the sound of ominous crackling when people drove by the cabin.

The fishing went splendidly, the catching not so much. We were there from 10am-4pm and our group caught 5 fish, 2 of which had to be returned. Our guide had said we'd catch "a hundred fish" from the area he pointed out, but evidently the fish were fully aware that it was Saturday, and they didn't get out of their fish beds. We had plenty of snacks and good stories to keep us busy, while we sat comfortably in a posh little fishing cabin. The cabin had a little propane heater that kept the place 60 degrees all day, so soon we were shedding our winter coats and lounging around in our socks. If you have to go ice fishing, that's the way to do it. This is far different than the methods used to ice fish in Iowa.

IOWA ICE FISHING
1. Locate body of water capable of holding fish AND capable of freezing thick enough to walk on.
2. Hike out on aforementioned miraculous body of water, pulling sled with all fishing gear.
3. Drill hole, being careful not to crack the eggshell of ice which would then send you plummeting to your icy tomb.
4. Fish.
5. If not entirely frostbitten by the hearty gales of wind whipping over the pond/lake surface, high-tail it back to someplace warm.

I have never gone out of my way to go ice fishing (and thought I never would), but Minnesota knows how to do things properly.

MINNESOTA ICE FISHING
1. Toss all gear into vehicle.
2. Drive right to fishing spot, out on the middle of a giant lake most Iowans would call an ocean.
3. Fish inside, with music playing and heater roasting.
4. (Theoretically) catch mountains of fish.
5. Toss gear back into vehicle, drive home, chuckle at unfortunate Iowan fishermen.

Doyle perfectly planned every single aspect of our trip. The only thing he had no control over was the weather and the fish themselves. The weather was excellent, which helped negate the lackluster fishing. When we looked back over the weekend, we decided that it was a wonderful day, unspoiled by dirty fish-cleaning chores. :)

We went back to Doyle's, ate some supper, and then rushed to play some volleyball at a nearby rec center. Doyle had spread the word of volleyball gamery to some friends. He also posted the event on facebook, but nothing prepared him for the nearly 50 people that showed up, many traveling from hours away. He had only rented one court and the strangely unhelpful rec center staff wouldn't allow us to have a second court. We alternated teams and all played a few games, ending with a boisterous game of Speed Volleyball. We were about to play a second game when the Unfriendly Staff informed us that our rental time was up. They wouldn't let us extend the time, despite the fact that there was nobody else in the rec center.

So Doyle, Matt and I ran back to the fishing cabin and threw some lines into the water. We got several enthusiastic nibbles but no catches. We stayed there from 10pm-12am and then called it quits. Quits for fishing, but we still had some energy to burn. Like rowdy children at a sleepover far from their parents' watchful eyes, we stayed up til 3am playing games and telling stories.

"Thou shalt not do things on a Saturday that hinder you from attending church on Sunday." 
With my own words to my brother Shane ringing in my ears, I awoke and attended church with Doyle's family, doing my very best to keep my eyeballs open.

We played more broomball, ate more fantastic food (Doyle's mother, Hope, prepared veritable mountains of food for us, and went the extra mile to make gluten-free food for me), and then hauled out a game of Settlers of Catan. I introduced a few of my many homemade Settlers variations, which were accepted by the group. One of the variations was that we collected our resources on the numbers of each individual dice as well as the total of both. For instance, if the dice rolled were a 3 and a 6, we'd collect our resources on every settlement or city touching a 3, 6, or 9. It causes the game to go much quicker and also makes the 2-6 numbered spots extremely valuable. If the two dice were the same, such as a 5 and a 5, we'd collect double on the 5 spots. For those of you that play Settlers, feel free to ask about this or other variations. For those of you that don't play Settlers, come visit me and I'll introduce you to an incredibly fun board game. 

With the advantage of creating the variation, you'd think I'd win! But alas the Minnesotans were quick to learn and Terrill ended up beating me, with Doyle being close to a victory as well.

Matthew and I were informed of a massive storm headed toward Minneapolis, so we briefly debated the pros and cons of being snowed in at Doyle's. I was fairly certain we'd stay, but Matthew decided we should try to run for it, so we left mid-morning on Monday. We rushed to the airport, praying that God would hold back the storm for us, and He did just that. We got to Minneapolis on time, and I didn't see a decent flake of snow the whole way home.

Driving through Cedar Rapids, I realized that there wasn't any snow to be seen! The ground was all muddy and brown. I got to my place and went to sleep, only to awake and find SIX INCHES of snow on the ground this morning. God provided me with a miracle by keeping the roads clear all the way home, and I'm grateful.

I fought my way to work on slushy roads and quickly set out to scrape the driveway. I've never drifted with a skid steer, but it's been one of the most enjoyable experiences I've had while removing snow.  I was clearing the driveway primarily because the kids needed to go to school after their 2-hour delay, but also because my parents were scheduled to arrive home later this evening. Well, God decided to give my parents a longer vacation in Florida, since this snow storm canceled over 150 flights coming in to Chicago. School was eventually canceled, so only my coworker Stan and a few customers made use of my snowplow handiwork.

Doyle, thank you and your awesome family for the wonderful trip and even more wonderful hospitality. With scrapes, bruises, and a bare minimum of sleep, it was exactly the kind of vacation I needed.

*Dear reader, are you my friend on Facebook? If so, you can see more photos of these events in my Albums "SMBI Mini Reunion - 2011" and "Minnesota Trip 2013".