When I was a wee lass, family vacations entailed my mom, pop, three sisters and I. They sometimes included extended relatives or family friends, but the core group was “relatively” small (sorry- pun addict here).
We’ve since grown both in years and in size. We’ve gained three brothers-in-law, three lovely nieces, and a man-go-round! Thus, when we took a family trip to the North Shore (Lake Superior for you non-Minnesotans) we ended up renting quite a swanky and sizable pad for the duration. A lovely lofted lodge where I could rest my feet:
After getting our fill of the serenity of Gitchigumi (just my daily bastardization of the art of spelling, probably…)
…”just the 10 of us” (and one more in my sisters’ belly would make 11)… took our show on the road to Tettegouche State Park, to return to one of my parents’ favorite North Shore spots- the lush falls of the Baptism River (which my dad reports he thinks are maybe the highest in the state).
Our raucous crew spent the short drive rehearsing a song we had invented on our way to Grand Marais previously in the vacation. It goes to the tune of “Silver Bells,” with a refrain including, “Silver Bay… Grand Marais…” and verses that rhyme floozing with boozing and others are pooping…
Needless to say, our spirits were quite convivial by the time we parked the car. We piled out in the still dry air, ready for an easy hike up to see the falls. Our crew at this point included several adults and one toddler in a backpack. We were ready to go!
In small mini- groups, we headed up the trail and noticed a slight sprinkle in the air. A few minutes later the drops were plopping instead of fizzing, and quite emboldened in their fall.
Okay, now it was downright downpouring in the space of 2 or 3 minutes. Determined, we plodded on.
By the time we got to the end of the trail to see the falls, it was a straight up rainstorm.
Covering my camera with my jean jacket sleeves to protect it, gasping at the beauty of it, and screeching with delight at the sheer earthiness of it all, we gave in to Mother Nature and called it a day.
Running down the path back to the cars, we were enlivened by the fresh air, the fresh storm, and the falls. Later we would warm up back at our cabin manse on the lake, and recall those big fat raindrops falling down with the falls.
What do you do when it “rains on your parade?” I try not to let it get me down, and sometimes it ends up making the experience all the more memorable!
Thanks for stopping by today!
Meri
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