Grouse Hollow Journal: February 2017

Friday, February 24, 2017

Grouse Hollow Journal for February 23, 2017 by Greg Koelker

How do I share this? It scared the heck out of me and lots of others for sure. I guess

I’ll just tell it straight up; on February 10th my beautiful snow shoeing, snow shoveling, mountain climbing, tree trimming, gardening, thin and athletic better-half had a heart attack. Yeah, I know, go figure. After a three-day stay in Gundersen’s Critical Care unit, Ellen is home and feeling pretty good. Scout is taking good care of her, getting her out on short walks.

Our good friends Tom and Jane Downs are in Arizona this week. He sent a picture of his feet by the pool. I hope they enjoy their February in the desert time, but I gotta say, I almost put on shorts here on Saturday. How about this weather?

After Scout and I made our weekly dump trip, I unrolled some garden hose to thaw in the sun and got my stuff around to wash cars. The F 150 hasn’t been cleaned since before deer hunting. This truck with the topper is a lot more area to wash. I had to use a step ladder to get up high enough! Anyway, after the pickup was shining in the sun, I went in for lunch.

Ellen’s sister Kathy brought us lunch (an Olive Garden recipe soup, chicken and dressing sandwich spread and rolls and a peach pie) as well as our share of the deer salami. As usual, we got our deer salami sausage made at Haubert’s in Dickeyville, so I had my first taste of that with some crackers, cheese, and a Coors. Good stuff, Maynard! (Those readers of a certain age may remember that saying from a TV commercial.)

After lunch, El and I sat in the sun on the porch for an hour or so. I know Scout and I fell asleep for a bit. It was like April. We could hear grouse drumming in the distance, songbirds, doves cooing, turkeys gobbling, and melting, running water rounding out a Spring-like symphony. We could also hear the neighbor kids enjoying the near 60 degree afternoon. A resuscitated bat came circling in around us, swooping and diving in a confused sort of way before flying up under the eve of the shop. There were hornets sluggishly trying to fly from spot to spot under the porch ceiling and of course box elder and Asian beetles all over the side of the house. Ellen pointed out the budding pussy willows, box elder trees, and maple trees we can see from our chairs. (Already, two weeks ago she mentioned that the popple trees on the ridge were budding out. We also saw about a dozen robins in the yard around that same time.) There are geese flying north on the big river too. I hope Ma Nature isn’t playing with us. Hopefully the fruit trees aren’t neutered by a late frost like last year.

El and I stopped by the overlook at Shady Maple the other day to look over a pickup we were test driving. Even if it were legal to cross the railroad tracks, the river is open along this traditional and famous ice fishing spot. Some of you may remember when Shady Maple had dozens if not hundreds of permanent and colorful fishing shacks on the ice most of the winter. It is the subject of several Marion Bean watercolor paintings. El and I used to take our little boys down there to fish, often using a shack as a windbreak. Anyway, there were two fishermen with an air boat this day. We watched them move three times in the twenty minutes we waited - because the ignition locked up on this used truck we are probably not going to buy.

Until next time, get out - Ellen and I want to thank the doctors and staff at Gundersen Lutheran. They are awesome. And many, many thanks to our family and friends and neighbors and the First, Second, and Third grades at Stoddard Elementary for well wishes and valentines, for all of your prayers, kind words, get well cards, company, and food from so many. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for February 9, 2017 by Greg Koelker

I spent Sunday morning ice sitting. That is a new winter sport I have invented this last week. It is where one sits on the ice by a small hole and does NOT catch fish. Vince and I spent a lot of time scouting the usual spots and deciding on a new one by a friend’s Black River- side home, named appropriately Kickin’ Back. Anyway, we drilled holes in the 18-inch Black River ice and commenced to looking at them and our electronics. He has a Marcum and I have a Vexillar flasher. The bottom and denizens of the deep show up on the scope as red, green, yellow flashing blips that shows their depth. Vince did catch a few fish, in fact he schooled me as I only managed to get one small bluegill on the ice. He caught maybe 14: bluegills, crappies, and perch that unfortunately were all size-challenged like mine. Anyway, we got in a little sunshine and fresh air. There were no fish to clean so we headed over to Nutbush for breakfast. For those of you who say you enjoy hearing about what grub I had this week, I had the special: eggs over easy, whole wheat toast, sausage links, and hashbrowns. Vinny had biscuits and gravy with an over easy egg on top. We topped off breakfast with a stop at Menards.

When I pulled in at the ranch, my girls were just heading out on snowshoes. Okay, El was on snowshoes, not Scout. Scout did run over to the top of the retaining wall so I could rub her ears from above me before they went up the hill. El also shared the details of a call from her brother, Brian of River Falls who was going north to find fish with his son, nephew Cory. He told Ellen he was fixing wings for Superbowl supper over at Cory and Juliets and Ellory’s. After they left, instead of cleaning fish, I went for a short walk myself before heading in to watch the Badgers and Hoosiers. Go Badgers!

This last week, I used one of our trusty Fiskars limbing tools to trim up our red and yellow raspberries in the garden and along the sunny side of the tobacco shed. I couldn’t really tell which canes should get topped instead of cut off completely so they all got chopped down. In September there will be red raspberries anyway - I hope. We are planning on moving our black raspberries into a more sunny spot and putting them in wired up rows to train them and keep them thinned out. Right now the black raspberries have gotten away from us and are growing in a 10-foot wide and thirty-foot long prickly jungle. While I was working on the canes, it was nice enough except for a cutting breeze that made the upper 20’s raw. Okay, it wasn’t all that nice. Anyway, while doing the trimming, I was transported to summer days when the berries will be filling out and the bees will be buzzing around. I was imagining evenings on the porch and boat rides at sunset over the bluffs and, well hopefully - these canes will be hanging heavy with those tart, juicy, thumb sized red berries that go so well with ice cream and bake up in crisps to go with ice cream and red raspberry pie. Of course, the piece de resistance - for our berries at least - is Ellen’s famous Three-Berry Jam. Yellow, red, and black raspberry jam. It don’t get no better. Oh yeah, with the tame berries at least started on their way to the kitchen, their wild cousins can use a little love too. We have a large, unruly wild blackberry patch up on the ridge. I need to start working on next summer by digging down deep for ambition enough to get up the ridge with pruning tools to trim some more of the canes up there (I pruned a few one nice day back in November) so there may be more wild berries to pick too. We shall see.

Until next time, get out - I was at the 14th Stoddard Bay Jiggin’ Jamboree on Saturday. The proceeds from the fisheree go to benefit Stoddard parks. They had lots of door prizes and some awesome pulled pork sandwiches. While the fishing was cold, things were heated up in the jamboree headquarters as fishermen came in to register their catches. Paul Larson won the bluegill division with a 9.5-inch gill that weighed in at .85 pounds. Tom Welch registered a 12.5 inch crappie and that weighed in at 1.27 pounds to win that division, while Dino Penkalski had a 31-inch northern pike that registered 7.87 pounds. Oddly enough, as productive a bass fishing spot as Stoddard Bay can be, there were no bass registered this day, still Peggy Miller won first place in the bass division - after her name was pulled from a bucket. Anyway, it was fun to see so many of my former students and talk fishing. Ellen is making a Nacho Pie for super bowl supper. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for February 2, 2017 by Greg Koelker

I just came in from my evening chores, that is getting around food and water for our livestock, Scout and Gypsy. This is quick except for the petting and ear rub time. There was a sharp breeze out of the north this evening and the overcast appears to be losing ground to blue sky as the clouds go chasing the sun behind the bluffs. There was sunshine enough for a late January day. So much so that I got motivated to get the car washed outside and in. It has been dirty for so long, that I had almost forgot it is a pretty deep red color.

For awhile this year we had four vehicles - for two people. This week we are down to two. Ben has the Ranger out on the ranch in Colorado now and we sold our old Explorer to a nice young couple from Esofea last week. We still have the - now shiny red - Sonata and the F150 we got from Tee’s in Stoddard back in November.

Why a journal about vehicles? Well, I have always been a car shopper. My friends tease me that I couldn’t own a vehicle for more than a few days before I was looking for something else. Truth is, I do like shopping for cars and trucks. I do not like paying for them though. I do like to remember back to all the cars I’ve known before. The Flintstone car my mom and dad presented me with back in 1967 was a dark blue 1949 Chevy coupe. Dad bought it for $50 from a farmer. It lasted me for part of the summer and into the football season of my junior year of high school. I blew a rod out the top of the straining 6 cylinder engine while racing it down a hill outside of Lancaster on our way back from a football game at Belmont. I had a carload of friends on board and we were lucky enough that we got rides back to Cassville from hometown passers by. The next morning, Dad and I drove over with his truck and a log chain intent on pulling the Chevy home and repairing the engine. Sadly, some ne’r-do-wells had broken all the windows out and broke the steering wheel and dash glass. Nuts. My next car was a blue and white ‘61 Chevy Impala complete with fins that I paid $200 for. (You’ll notice that I paid for this one. Lesson learned maybe?) This car had a 283 V8 with a stick shift on the column and an AM radio and some rust. I got my first taste of bodywork when Mike Schier and I spent hours fixing up the rust rot over the headlights.

This was the era of muscle cars and I - and my dad - had the fever. He called one evening from Goben Motors in Madison and said he thought he found just the right car for us to play with. It was a Barbados Blue ‘67 Rambler Rogue. It was a two-door with bench seats, AM radio, a tach on top of the dash, four on the floor, a Borg Warner T10 tranny, with a Dana 3.54 gear ratio and trans lock rear end. (I purchased the bucket seats out of Ken Schauf’s totaled Pontiac Le Mans to make the interior a little sportier.) The car didn’t have seat belts. The outside looked a little like a granny car until one raised the hood and heard and felt the growl. There was a huge - for this car anyway, think Toyota Corolla size - gold and chrome trimmed new high-compression 343 V8 with a 4-barrel carburetor that produced 280 hp. It had an Iskenderian cam and Offenhauser heads and headers with chrome valve covers and exhaust pipes and air filter. My car’s story was that it had been a Madison police car. I beat a Judge with a six-pack in a drag race. I held my own with a Chevy 454 too, getting nosed out at the finish line. I also lost my car for a week after I got caught drag racing. I didn’t know at the time that I had a collectible here as AMC only fit out 51 of these Rogues in hard top like this. I paid $1,667 for it. It got 12 to 14 mpg if you drove with a light foot, but gasoline was 35 cents a gallon so who did that.

Dad and I worked on it together - a lot, mostly replacing the head gaskets and cleaning antifreeze out of the engine oil - twice in one weekend once. Anyway, I could tell lots of 1969 style stories about “The Rambler” and many of my friends can too - Ambrose Timmerman of Viroqua (formerly of Cassville) is one of them. Back in the day, he drove the Rambler and bent a couple wrenches on it in his garage. Boone Glassmaker, one of my buddies and college roomates, rode back and forth to Madison when we were in college. He had many white nuckle stories he could tell I imagine. I took Ellen out for our first date with the Rambler, so she could testify too. My best friend Kim Klauer of Cassville has the scars on his right arm that tell the final Rambler story. Anyway, I drove it for almost two years and wrecked it twice and was fortunate that no one got badly hurt. I’ll just add that no kid should be allowed that much muscle under the hood.

Ellen and I had many, many other cars. A ‘62 Chevy Bel Aire - I sold to Jerry Hochhausen, a ‘63 Pontiac Catalina my dad eventually wore out driving to Dubuque to work, Jane Ledbury’s ‘65 Datsun 510, a ‘70 Mustang (named Spot), a ‘75 Vega - our first ever new car, a rusty ‘71 Blazer and a soon to rust‘75 Blazer, two ‘77 Chevy Pickups - one new and one lightly used - both disasterous vehicles with a blown engine, blown tranny, and rust amuck, a ‘79 Chevy station, an ‘81 Chevy Citation - great mileage but lousy quality, a ‘94 Geo Metro - no air bags and too fast for teenagers, a ‘95 Ford Aspire - with air bags, a Buick Ciera (aka “Starter Eater”) purchased with only 9K miles on it, a Buick Century wagon (aka “The Grocery Getter”), Big Blue a ’76 Jeep truck, and the tough little ‘86 Jeep Comanche (also bought brand new and that survived both our boys high school days and was often mentioned in this journal), an ‘89 Jeep Cherokee that I loved but without A/C, two newer Ford Taurus station wagons, three Ford Rangers ‘94, ‘00, and ‘04, three Explorers - a ‘93, and two ‘02’s (one two-door one four), at least five motorcycles, the Sonata and now the F150. I could add the boys’ cars too and I probably missed some others here, but you get the idea. Ben’s Ranger was probably the most durable over the 13 years we had it. The Rambler and Jeep Comanche were probably the most memorable for me, but every one of these vehicles has a story or two to tell. One could say they chronicle the story of our lives in some ways. I just might try to write this story some day.

Until next time, get out - we have been hearing tom turkeys gobbling and El and I saw four toms strutting for a big flock of hens last week one morning. The river is open so I am thinking maybe walleye fishing could happen next. Happy Ground Hog’s Day! It is February; if it goes by anywhere as fast as Janurary did, it will be March in a couple of days. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for January 26, 2017 by Greg Koelker

Ellen and Scout and Jax - Eli’s dog and our house guest this last weekend, went for a walk up the ridge on Sunday morning. El told me later that as she and the dogs slogged through the field and into the Oak Stand gate she had a memory of a bitter cold January late afternoon a few winters ago when Scout got a less than pleasant welcome from a skunk out walking around. Readers may recall that Scout got a near lethal (for us, that is) dose of uber odiferous mephitidae musk. After being turned down by several dog groomers, Scout and we got introduced to a dogwash in Onalaska. Let’s just say that while it was sort of funny, Scout was not a happy camper. We can laugh about it today because there were no polecats on this walk. Taking two dogs to a dog wash would have made it doubly interesting or doubly disturbing for sure.

Speaking of disturbing, It is my opinion that breaking up of the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources is a step backwards on a pothole filled road leading to a time when water and air pollution and private plundering of public resources was the norm in our state. Unbelievably, some in the DNR and legislature advocate allowing businesses to hire private consultants to do environmental impact reports. Let’s see, when a company pays consultant to do a study of where said company wants to put down a high volumn well or sink a mine or any number of other projects that might need some guidance when it comes to the environment, who is consultant working for? To whom do the paid consultant answer to? How objective and complete will that report be? This policy opens the door to eventual disasters for our natural resources - in my opinion. There’s more. DNR employees are worried about a department with loosened environmental regulations and budget cuts that targets scientists because they researched climate change, mine pollution and deer herd management measures. Those same experienced and educated employees are leaving in big numbers, creating a brain drain and shortage of experts in the department - at the expense of all of our natural resources, maybe by managerial design - again, in my opinion. Folks, in my experience, DNR employees are professionals with the best interest of our environment and natural resources in their collective hearts. They are about more than just re-stocking walleye fry and issuing hunting licenses. Regardless of what those in power say, the DNR is not a customer service agency; it should be the legal guardian of our natural resources.

Jax has proven to be the perfect house guest, resting most of the day on his pad in the kitchen. Jax let us know it was time to go out by whining quietly outside of our bedroom door around 5 AM.

I got a shot of springtime this last week when I got my spring turkey season permit in the mail. Mountain man Ben says he is coming to turkey hunt again this spring, so I am doubly pumped for the hunt. I am so ready for the sound of gobbling toms and spring song birds. Also, I hear they are catching fish through the ice and all over the open water of the Mississippi, so if you haven’t been out, remember, you can’t catch ‘em if you don’t go.

Until next time, get out - the green and gold walking wounded ward that is our Green Bay Packers, beat up and left for dead back in November, made football fun again for the last two months, getting closer to the Superbowl than the Lions, Giants, and the much vaunted Cowboys. Who would have bet on that? Go Pack! Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for January 19, 2017 by Greg Koelker

Ellen and I went for a hike on the hardwater of Stoddard Bay on Saturday. The sun felt warm even though the thermometer said otherwise. We, okay, mostly She pulled our Frabill two-person sled and ice shanty out of Water’s Edge around 2 PM, joining maybe 150 other fishermen on the bay. The ice was mostly clear and slick - even in the parking lot. Before we left the truck, we had stretched Yaktrax ice creepers over our boots. With the Yaktrax, we lowered the danger of a head smacking fall.

Once on the ice, we stopped to visit with a guy set up on the first line of fishermen some 75 yards out from shore. The report was that it was slow. He had been out since 8 AM and said there was a perch run around 10 AM. He hooked maybe 10 fish - but reeled up only one keeper. Nothing since. That was not promising, but I had a plan to go way out to a spot where no one was fishing. We headed west.

We caught fish last year at the spot I wanted to try. As we approached that spot, we watched another guy move almost right where I planned to fish, so we went a bit farther north. I drilled a couple holes with my electric drill and Nils auger. While Ellen scooped out the ice, I set up my Fish Cam TV. I dropped the fish-shaped tv camera down one of the holes and slowly lowered it to near the bottom trying not to make the water cloudy and probably scare any fish. We could see a sandy bottom and some plants, but there were no fish - within viewing distance anyway. We tried the spot anyway, catching all the fish we had just seen on the camera.

When we stood up to move, the aforementioned guy on “my” spot was moving already too. As we walked south toward the “line” of fishermen and shacks and four-wheelers, Ellen asked, “Is that a bird or wait, is that a drone?” It was a silver drone hovering over the line and flying up and down the bay. We thought it was cool. Ellen speculated that someone could be delivering pizza with it. I wonder. Later, while we were trying another spot, the drone went by and Ellen said “I don’t see DNR on it anywhere.” Hmmm. . . an eye in the sky over fishermen. Anyway, we talked to the aforementioned guy later, and he said he’d been out all day with no luck and was about frozen through.

My toes got a bit cold too, but we enjoyed the sunshine and fresh air and the walk and the drone anyway. Back at the ranch, our erstwhile canine sentry welcomed us loudly. She wanted to watch football too I guess. There is nothing like coming in from the cold to a warm kitchen.

On Sunday morning, we saw a buck and two other deer feeding in the sunshine down the road from home while we were heading to town. Farther on, we saw maybe a dozen deer up on the hillsides making a living in picked corn fields. It is good to see some deer, but it makes me wonder what their daylight feeding portends weatherwise. By the time you read this, we’ll know I guess. For what it’s worth, I am pulling for a January thaw to give wildlife and our town road crews a break from all this danged ice. Speaking of pulling, I pulled a trail camera card when we got home, and while there were deer tracks here and there in the meadow, there were only three pictures of the same small deer on the camera - along with pictures triggered by the snowball sized snow flakes from earlier in the week and a bulging brown chore coat walking away from and approaching the camera.

Until next time, get out - Ellen and Scout just headed out on snowshoes; that is Ellen is on snowshoes and Scout is tagging along. El is wearing her new day pack I got her for Christmas that has room for one of our Nikon DSLR cameras at the ready. I look forward to her pictures. I took down the rest of our holiday decorations and went in to warm up my easy chair for watching football. How about them Packers?! I just may have to get a Mason Crosby jersey! Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for January 12, 2017 by Greg Koelker

The sun is inviting - outside the double-paned windows - where it glistens off of the more than two week old snow and the more than week old ice. The temp is maybe 10 degrees now. I was taking a few pictures down by the river an hour ago and the “breeze” cut right through my coat and gloves. My ambitious outdoors woman took our labrador retriever for a no doubt crunchy walk up our icy ridge road. In our warm kitchen, I was thinking about how tedious and difficult this time of year can get - for me anyway. I mean just going outside to the garage or up to the shop is a major undertaking right now, and might I mention a dangerous as well. One can not walk down the driveway here without putting on boots equipped with Yaktraxs or some other ice gripper set up to ward off a fall on the thick ice that seems to have grown a resistance to salt and sand. To spend any time outside, one needs to put on a respectable sporting goods department worth of warm cold weather gear. I go out bundled up like, well, like Ralphie’s little brother in the movie A Christmas Story even to just get the paper or mail. Ellen wants to get out on her snowshoes, but we need fresh snow in copious amounts on our trails. I could build some new bird houses or go ice fishing I guess, but I have a stack of new books to look over, and, well, dang it is cold out!

I was pondering this journal entry and it got me reflecting about what it must have been like in this house back in the day, like when it was just a log cabin in the late 1800’s. I know from recollections shared by our friends Doris Proksch Oldenburg of Chaseburg, who grew up on this former Proksch farm, that back in the day, the men went north to work in the lumber industry for cash money and the women and children stayed behind to keep the farm going.

In the cabin, no doubt there was a wood cookstove going and maybe lantern light, and maybe even a glassed in window or two. The cookstove would need constant tending as it was used for cooking, heating water, and heating the room. That would mean keeping the wood box filled and splitting kindling. No simple task, I might add. When I was in college in the 70’s Grandma Potter asked me to split some kindling for her out in the pole shed. She came out to see what was taking me so long and discovered I was a pathetic kindling maker. My 70 something grandma took the hatchet and commenced to split kindling, barehanded until there was enough to fill the wood box. Anyway, the aroma’s were most likely from wood smoke, coal oil or kerosene, cooking and bread baking, and maybe wet clothing drying by the fire. The log cabin part of our house is roughly 30 x 48 feet. That may have been relatively large at the time is was built, but I’m not sure. Water would need to be drawn and hauled to livestock and the house. There could have been snow to be shoveled, hay to hauled, and eggs to collect. If the men were home, there would be tools and harness to repair. Repairs in the buildings maybe too. This would have been a time of sledding and ice skating for the children, mending or quilting (I imagine there were plenty of quilts and blankets on the beds in winter) or maybe reading - most likely just the Bible. Doris’ husband Lawrence still picks out hickory nuts in winter and if there was a trapper in the family, there might have been skins to scrape and brush and stretch. Still for the children, there were probably games to be played in the snow like “duck, duck, goose” or snow angels to be made. Inside there might have been checkers or even chess and marbles and probably dolls and books like the The Bobbsey Twins or even a dime novel or two from the old west. There might have been a guitar or piano or harmonica to practice and entertain and/or pass the time. Probably there were lessons for the kids - the kids here would have had a nearly two-mile walk up the ridge to the one room school on Chipmunk Ridge (sadly, it burned down a few years ago.) That would be a long hike in the cold and snow by our standards, but they might have been able to sled back down the ridge road after school. From our experience, there seems to be plenty to do around a farm at any time, so no doubt there were chores for everyone.

Eventually, the families who lived here left their mark(s) adding a second floor along with a kitchen on the east side, a full basement was dug out, and another two story addition was added on the west side for the “old folks” to retire to A.K.A. our family room today. We have a photograph, compliments of Doris and Lawrence, of the place on a summer day in 1902 and all of these additions were in place. Thankfully indoor plumbing was installed along with several types of heating besides wood, including an oil furnace and electric baseboard heat (that was here in 1977). In our almost 40 years here, we installed a wood burning furnace in the basement and a wood fireplace in the living room (that we rarely use) and have remodeled the entire house except the stone basement, adding a porch around the family room that has a gas fireplace and we put a bath upstairs as well as twenty some thermal paned windows and doors and a few hundred pounds of thick insulation wherever we could get it installed. As many of you know, we also removed the wood stove and central chimney- there were three chimney’s total, and added a geothermal heating and air conditioning system with an LP furnace backup some years ago. Who knows what will be next by whomever? Quite an evolution for an old farm house built on land with a title signed by Abraham Lincoln.

Some would say that those were the good old days. Maybe so. All in all, no TV, radio, Netflix, NFL, video games, electric lights, etc. probably made for some long, cold days and nights that made for a long, dark winter. Still I would not trade my thermostat in the living room and the gas fireplace in the family room by the big screen or the flat top stove and microwave in the kitchen for that cookstove and kerosene lamp - no way, no how.

Until next time, get out - El and Scout are back inside after their walk. It was cold and icy enough El

said, but she saw much deer sign on the ridge. Wisconsin writer and historian Jerry Apps reflected on winter in his mid-December 2016 blog, writing that he rather likes winter and mentioning the quiet and finally describing winter a time to slow down and relax a bit. Good call Jerry. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for January 5, 2017 by Greg Koelker

Ben and Mark were home for a week this Christmas. I kidded Mark one day after he wore his new Christmas lounge pants all day without even putting on socks. He said, “I am just soaking it all in.” I’m glad they both feel that way about home. Mark flew out for California at early-thirty on December 27 and Ben took off for Colorado at midday on December 29. I agree with Mark, just soaking it all in, having them both here filled us all with good thoughts, brought up great memories of other good times, and made this ever so fast holiday vaporize even faster.

On the 28th, Ben and Ellen started trimming dead tree branches from the ancient and immense pines in our yard. (Mark, our former professional tree trimmer, had wanted to get at them earlier in the week, but the weather made for lousy conditions in trees. He said in Colorado they would have used a crane to lower the trimmer down on our pines to trim them up.) I got the chainsaw and tractor going so we could cut up and haul what will make for nice evenings by the firepit this spring. Ben had the idea that we needed to be able to see the apple orchard meadow. He ran a trimming saw and Ellen pulled branches into a fire pile, clearing the underbrush so that now we can see the fenced in trees, smashed pumpkins, and food plot greens clearly from the kitchen. There were fresh deer tracks around the smashed squash, so I placed a trail camera on a tree covering the upper end of the meadow. More on that later.

On Christmas night we opened presents. I got a camo hat from a surf shop in California, a book on smoking and preserving meat, and speaking of clearing brush and cutting trees, one on wood prints. The boys gave us the book, Woodcut by Bryan Nash Gill, a master wook cut printer. I looked at it at first and wondered “What the heck?”, but the book is full of prints made from cuts of many, many types of trees and boards and such, explaining what one was seeing, the process of printing them, and the history in each of them. I love it. I am inspired to try making prints of the old boards and downed trees around here. The ones in the book could be cut out and framed.

Anyway, we recently brought home El’s family’s desk and she asked me to clean it up and oil it. The old finish reacted well, turning a rich reddish color. It is in our living room with her mom’s Nativity Set on it. Several years ago, my accomplished photographer wife shot scenes in and around the old shop on her home farm before it was torn down. She got great images of old sleds, tools, odd hooks, chains, an ancient boat motor, forks and shovels, and mower blades, her brother Mike’s hand saw, and even some impromptu art work by her dad. Anyway, I Photoshopped those images into high contrast sepia toned prints and mounted them in an old style collage frame for an anniversary present. After the holidays, Ellen wants to hang her picture frame up over our new/old desk and place one of her dad’s journals on the desk. It should be pretty cool.

We could have done something more exciting and romantic on our anniversary, but I am plunked down at the kitchen table tapping this out (with a martini) and El is busy fixing shrimp and scallops for supper. We are plenty happy with that and having Ben and Mark here even for a short time. It don’t git no better.

Until next time, get out - our sons have grown into strong mountain men and adventurers with compassionate hearts and many interests and talents and one can’t ask for more than that. Having them home together was the highlight of 2016 for us. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow for December 29, 2016 by Greg Koelker

We picked up Mark at the La Crosse Airport this morning (Tuesday, December 20). He said he sat with a mother and daughter and 6 week old baby on their way home from California for Christmas in Melrose. What a great asset this airport is (or any airport for that matter) for everyone in the area. I mean airports are places of business and coming and going, but most importantly they are places of connectivity where loved ones hug and hello for special times. Anyway, we had a big hug in front of the terminal and had a big breakfast at Nutbush and then just had a big day of hanging out at the ranch enjoying some time with our younger son.

On Wednesday Mark’s life-long friend Adam Remus drove over from Madison to see Mark. Adam brought a Snurf board and those two dropped 25 years off their ages and played on the fluffy snow around the farm like a pair of ten-year olds. They took pictures and video of each other riding the board on the ridge and down through the yard. Last night with the yard light on, I realized the snow in our yard had a distinct zebra stripe pattern. Adam and Kate are expecting their first child in February. We wish them so much love and good fortune.

On Thursday, El and I drove the Explorer up to the Twin Cities to collect number one son, Benjamin. He said he had the best flight experience ever on Sun Country, Denver to Minneapolis. We were able to catch up with him on the way home. He and Christine are getting their ranch cabin in order with a lot of insulating and fixing plumbing and wiring, but the place is warm now and the power and plumbing works. His pictures of their Christmas decorations were beautiful. Spanky, one of their cats, died last week and that was tough. They have also had range cattle from a nearby ranch break the fence and get in their yard. Ben said their dog, Scout of the West has a lot to learn about cows as she almost got trampled when she tried to chase them. A neighbor told them to keep an eye out for elk as there were 30 bulls wintering near their place last winter. Cool. While they have our old Ranger 4x4, they are fixing up a Jeep Cherokee they bought from the owner for $200 to better cope with the snow when commuting.

This is the first time that both of our sons got home for Christmas since like 2001. Anyway, we’ll spend lots of time together, watch the Pack and Vikes go at it on Christmas Eve before we head south to the family Christmas in Chaffie Hollow on Christmas Eve, stay with grandma and have breakfast with her on Christmas morning and stuff ourselves again with Christmas dinner at Ellen’s sister Kathy’s. Just spending time together makes this one of the best holiday seasons ever for us.

Back at the ranch with an early deadline looming, I asked Ellen what the date for the Thursday between Christmas and New Years was. She glanced at the calendar and said, “The Thursday between Christmas and New Years is a date that will go down in infamy!” Okay, she really said history; today is our 43rd Anniversary! The day we got married in 1973 would have fit right in with the weather we had a week or so ago. It was 29 degrees below zero! My beautiful bride’s bouquet of roses froze from St. Charles front door to the car. We didn’t fly off to someplace warm that next day either. I had to work at WKBT on Monday and make music with the GMC band on New Year’s Eve at the Holiday Inn in Winona. The winter of 1973/74 would have been the perfect cold winter to escape somewhere warm for a honeymoon, but back in the day we probably couldn’t have afforded it. Full exclosure here, I did get a raise at work because I got married - $7.50 a week, I am not making this up, so we honeymooned in August with a camping trip to the Black Hills, Colorado, Yellowstone, and Idaho.

Another fun fact about December 29, 1973 is that this was the the last day Americans could drive 65 on most highways in Wisconsin and soon all across the US. The speed limit was changed to the “double nickel” or 55 mph the day after our wedding, to save fuel. (I often joke that more than cars got slowed down that weekend, drawing “The Look” from Ellen.) I remember there was much gnashing of teeth among those of us who felt they needed to get somewhere faster than 55 would allow. We all know the reality, that nobody drove 55 anyway, like today it seems to be just a suggestion. The law didn’t really save much fuel, but it is credited for lowering highway fatalities by around 4,000 deaths that first year.

Until next time, get out - once a year, being short and less than petite does have its merits. I have the near perfect body type and “ho ho ho” for being Santa’s stand in. El and I will be off to be Santa’s helpers by standing in for him and Mrs. Claus tonight (Wednesday last week). We were kind of hesitant four years ago when Eli asked us to do this at his school, but it has been heartwarming and heart wrenching and rewarding to read Christmas stories to the kids and hear their Christmas wishes. My “Mrs. C” is the brains of the outfit. When one skeptical first grader asked why I couldn’t remember his name, I turned to her with questioning eyes peeking out of my long hair and beard, and my quick thinking wife said, “Why that only works at your house!” Later, while waiting on a skittish little brother to take a family picture, I turned to his teenage sister and asked, “Well, while we’re waiting, what would you like for Christmas little girl?” She instantly replied, “Safety and peace for the children of Aleppo.” That blew me away. She moved to the head of my Nice List right then and there. We can only hope and pray. On that note, last week I forgot to add a Merry Christmas to readers at the end of my journal. Better late than never, Merry Christmas and - on time - Happy New Year to all of our friends! Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 22, 2016 by Greg Koelker

It is 5:30 Friday morning as I start this. The kitchen smells of fresh coffee. There is a covering of new snow on the patio and lots more predicted by Saturday night and bitter cold for the Packer/Bear game in Chicago. Ah, December.

Later in the morning, Ellen and I were busy being cozy and warm in the house with Pandora on the computer playing Lady Gaga and Tony Bennett’s Holiday channel in the background - it is really good holiday music. When the classic song started, Ellen smiled as she remembered that her dad used to sing, “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

Walt was a commercial fisherman, trapper, hunter, farmer, school board member and regular church goer. Ellen reminisced, “I think he liked winter. He enjoyed teaching a grandkid how to use a new sled, he liked making lanterns for us to sled and skate by at night, and he liked trapping on the ice.” I am certain he liked that feeling one gets when coming in from the cold to the scent of wood smoke and fire in the furnace toasting the basement. Anyway, he passed his love of winter on to Ellen and our sons. Ellen likes to snowshoe and lucky for me, she likes to shovel snow. The boys have been riding sleds, skis, and snowboards down hillsides since they were toddlers, graduating from “Suicide” behind our tobacco shed to skiing and snowboarding at Mt. La Crosse and then the Rockies.

I agree that new snow is beautiful and a great backdrop for the big holiday week coming up (and when I was teaching, I used to love to see that school was closed on a blizzardy morning at least a couple times a winter.) The downside: snow is also something to be dealt with, dressed for every time you go out, and moved - again and again - off the driveway and paths around the place and off the highways too. (And one has to remember that snow days get made up in June. Hmmm. . . ) Brother-in-law Jamie Scholl, plows snow for Grant County so I put him in charge of the weather for the upcoming Griswold Family Christmas at our house. I don’t think he is a fan either.

One thing I like about winter is ice fishing. The ice is firming up in the backwaters of the Mississippi. I talked to some teenagers who showed me a picture of a huge mess of nice panfish laid out on the garage floor by the four young fishermen last week. I plan to go out after breakfast this morning.

I am back. When I got on the ice in Goose Island, there were half-a-dozen fishermen on the ice. The first guy I came up to said simply, “Small. I have two in the bag.” Another guy walked out of a tent, tossed a yellow flag and used the NFL referee signal for “no catch.” (Okay, I made up the yellow flag part.) I set up a ways away from them, drilling two holes in the 7 inches of ice and setting my tent up against the wind. After I lit my heater, I baited up an orange sparkly jig with a wax worm. I barely got a line down when I had a bouncing spring bobber and a keeper gill. I dropped the line down again and got an even bigger one. Hmmm . . . I caught lots of panfish, 50 maybe, maybe more, and they were mostly small. I had to put my second line and pole away and fish with one, the action was that steady. I managed enough decent-sized bluegills for a small fish fry for El and I. I got a text from Vince who asked about wetting a line on Saturday morning, depending on the blizzard. That may be another story. It was snowing steadily when I came off the ice.

Until next time, get out - it is Saturday morning and still snowing as I finish this. We have four or five inches of new snow. Ellen is making scrambled eggs with smoked venison sausage and peppers and onions. Scout is bothering us to go out, but when she does go out, she waits by the door. I am pretty sure she is bored by us. Anyway, I found out that the “holiday” song, "Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!" was written by lyricist Sammy Cahn and composer Jule Styne in JULY 1945 in HOLLYWOOD - DURING A HEAT WAVE - and it never mentions any holiday. No doubt, I’ll daydream about the heat wave idea while I am moving snow later this weekend. Go Pack! Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 15, 2016 by Greg Koelker

I took a walk in a winter wonderland a week ago Sunday. I was carrying my muzzle loader, but I wasn’t really thinking about filling a deer tag, just getting some fresh air. Heavy snow flakes fell and piled up, bending over tree tops and covering my blaze orange hat and coat. The beauty was only surpassed by the sound of silence. I crossed the Mushroom Hole ditch and slipped and slid my way up through the prickly ash to a path that lead up the hill where I planned to take in a quiet hour or so. The Mushroom Hole holds some good memories for me.

One of my favorites was a cool spring Saturday morning back in the 80’s. El and I had been cutting wood and when the truck was full of dead elm, we started looking for morels in the pasture. Ben was a toddler and Mark an infant in a baby chair. We found a few morels. Little Ben came walking along in a furry blue winter coat, holding a morel he found on his finger. Another time, when Mark was maybe 6, I took him squirrel hunting down by the mushroom hole. It started to rain so we took shelter under a cedar tree. We leaned in tight against the trunk to try and keep dry. We were quiet for a while, but then he started asking questions about squirrels and the rain and my .22 rifle. We didn’t kill any bushy tails, but I treasure the memory of that sit under the cedar.

This morning I leaned against a big cedar tree and watched the edges of my horizons for movement. A few squirrels moved about, shopping for breakfast before the snow got too deep. The heavy, wet snow never quit falling. I took a few pictures with my phone. The cedar trees were almost tipped over with wet snow weight. I never saw a deer.

I stopped in my shop to keep my powder dry and tend to my wet rifle. I dried it off with a towel and headed into the house. As I have said before, sometimes the best part of going out in the snow and cold is the coming into the house to get into dry clothes and warm up by the fireplace with a hot drink.

On Friday, Ellen and I had a shopping date out by Valley View Mall. Actually, we dropped our truck off for some work at The Neighborhood Wrench, a business owned by friends Ashley and Mike Stolsberg. We started with breakfast at Nutbush - I had a chicken fried steak and eggs. We went to Farm and Fleet next. After that, it was Best Buy for a new printer and then Target for a special gift for a niece. We spent an hour at Barnes and Noble and had lunch at Burger Fusion - good stuff. I kept checking my phone, hoping the mechanic had called. I might have been able to skip out on Dante’s 7th layer of Hell if he had. He hadn’t, so I accompanied my much more adventurous better-half to Woodmans - ON - A - FRIDAY afternoon with a snow storm in the forecast, truly a level that Dante hadn’t considered. Anyway, the truck was done and Ashley, a former student, left me a present on the seat, a copy of her book, Customizing Model Horses Painting and Etching by Ashley Konichek. If one is looking for a gift for a horse lover/hobbyist type, this would be the “bomb.” You can purchase this unique and beautifully illustrated and written 252 page how to book on Ebay. You can also find her other book, The Beauty of Horses at Amazon or Barnes and Noble or Books in a Million. Thanks Ashley.

The snow storm on Saturday and Sunday covered us with a different kind of snow. The soft covering smoothed out the rough and gently placed pillows on every spot that stood still long enough to accumulate some of the white stuff. The icing makes for a real Christmas wonderland for some - not me necessarily. Still, there’s hope. I was at the hardware store the other day and they have snowblowers outside out front, but all of their charcoal and gas grills were up front inside with a header or two of grilling tools and such set up right as you walked into the warmth of the store. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of some spring evening when I will watch our old Weber burn up a couple of cheeseburgers for a supper served in the screen porch. The way time seems to have going, it won’t be long.

I am not a snow fan, but I love Christmas. I like what the author and retired radio host, Garrison Keillor once wrote, “Christmas is magical. It's brief, and its powers are limited, but it can make you happy, if that's what you want. It only works once a year, of course. In August, the songs sound dumb. You have to work up to it through the fall, starting right after Halloween. Thanksgiving, of course, is a sort of dress rehearsal, Christmas minus the gifts, and then December is like a fast chute that you sit down on and ssshhhhhhoop, ssshhhhhhoop, ssshhhhhhoop, suddenly it's December 24, there's your tree, the candles, the candy, the stockings, and the traditional Christmas cat.” I guess Gypsy is our “traditional Christmas cat.” But she talks to me all the time, well, she mumbles mostly, but it is pretty clear she wants a back rub and more Tasty Treats.

Anyway, channeling a memory of Dumb and Dumber, I tried to step onto the ice in Goose Island on Saturday morning. It only took one step to realize I needed knee boots if I was getting on the ice. I observed the half-a-dozen fellows who were jigging through the shallow covering of hardwater. I saw only one small fish come up a hole in five minutes. Earlier I observed a couple of guys tip toeing on the ice of Stoddard Bay. I think it is time to get my ice fishing stuff untangled and set up, but I can wait a couple days to get on the hardwater.

Until next time, get out - kitchen aromas abound at our house: cookies baking, chocolate melting on the stove, turkey cooking in a soup kettle, and this morning it is the spicy, sweet scent of a breakfast pizza being delivered to the table by the guilty party. Thanks Darlin’. Enjoy.

Grouse Hollow Journal for December 7, 2016 by Greg Koelker

On the last day of the 2016 Wisconsin Gun Deer Season, I took it easy. I strolled up the Grouse Hollow path. A shy sun was sending rays through the cedars and birch tops, warming the chilly morning air. I stopped to try and photograph a ruffed grouse who didn’t seem to notice me. There forest floor made no sound to speak of, due to the damp conditions I guess. Near the top of the path, I saw a large deer soundlessly flash across the path 50 yards up the hill. I pulled up and held my sight on the spot in case another followed. None did. I sat down on a rock to try and listen. I was daydreaming when I turned my head and there was a black faced coyote maybe 10 feet away, as shocked as I was. By the time I got it in my scope, old Wily slipped into the deep ditch and vaporized. I did not see another deer on my long walk before lunch. I decided to sit the final hours of the Big One until dark in the Oak Stand. There were Boone and Crockett trophy red and gray squirrels working the woods all around all afternoon, blue jays, crows, chickadees, tit mouse, sparrows, and grouse in evideces all about as I wiled away the final hours of the big one. On to the muzzle loader hunt.

In our visit last time, I said this week would be my annual gift giving guide for those stumped by finding gifts for outdoors types. Here you go: first - give a gift certificate to your nimrod’s favorite emporium of outdoor paraphenalia. You can’t go wrong with this one, (except they may take it to the next level with a credit card.) Everyone in the household might benefit from an electric knife sharpener $40 or so. I saw a portable ice maker in the Sportsman’s Guide catalog for $162. That could come in handy for cocktails after the hunt or for icing down sore muscles while in camp or say for tailgating. I think some fleece lined hunting pants or jeans would be pretty nice. One could wear them fishing or while working outside all winter long - $35. Scent lock thermal underwear isn’t cheap, but it lasts a long time and really helps keep one warmer - $130 plus. If you have a mud room, a pair of slip on duck boots $50 or lined crocs $40 would be nice for a quick out to the garage or kennel or shop or trip to the store. A Scrusher, boot brush might keep some mud out of the mud room $20. I think they make the Scrusher in Vernon County too. Electric boot dryers are not cheap at $40 and up, but they can be used by the whole family to dry boots and gloves and hats. If you have deer hunters in the house, a trail camera and/or a trail camera card reader would be a pretty nice gift $40 to $150. I wear my Ghillie Suit for turkey and archery deer hunting $80. Get a size larger to accomodate warm clothers under it. A receiver hitch cargo carrier for the SUV or pickup adds room for coolers and deer carcasses or vacation trips, and more that is closer to the ground and easier to load and keeps blood and mud and such outside your vehicle - $50. We just got a Ford F150 and it is much higher than the Ranger so I can see that a Tailgate Ladder might be nice $45. (I actually put a short step ladder in mine, so . . . ) This one may seem a tad crazy, but the Rambo Fat tire Battery Powered Pedal Mountain Bike coming in at around $2600.00 could be a great gift for your hunter who needs to get into the deep woods or mountains and carry carry gear and game. If you have archers on your list, a life-sized deer decoy or target might enhance the hunt. $125-$150. A jet sled $66 makes moving items like tagged deer or firewood easier - even without snow. Another handy moving tool might be a Roll-About Deer Cart - $63. I enjoy my zero gravity chair; I call it my Jag Lake chair - $72. A subscription to the Wisconsin Outdoor News - $26 or Deer and Deer Hunting - $19.99 or any other outdoor magazine might be good. I like the quality and idea of Duluth Trading Company clothing for a special gift; a long-tailed flannel shirt helps keep one’s backside covered and warmer - $80. Some insulated boot blankets might be good if your nimrod spends a lot of time in a tree stand or ice shack - $60. A good safety harness for tree stand hunting will show you care $50-$100 at the upper end. A camo gear bag or shoulder bag for carrying water, food, ropes, etc. is a useful and reasonably priced gift at $30 or so. An automatice Co2 powered life preserver adds to the likelihood that your fisherperson will wear it while on the water $100 or so. If your fisherperson has lots of rods and gear, a hard case for it might be good - $50. Tired of the arguing about what that fish or buck weighed? You can get an electric scale for about $20 for fish or a Moultrie big game scale for $25. A good thermos, good cooler, insulated coffee mug, and warm socks will also be welcome gifts. I’ll add that LL Bean may be pricey but the stuff is quality and is guaranteed for life. Our experience has been that they just have you return the damaged or defective item and send you a new one. Eddie Bauer also has a lifetime guarantee. Land’s End has quality outdoor clothing and it is a Wisconsin company. You might craft a personal gift card good for hunting and fishing licenses as they come up during the year. Finally, don’t buy hats, gloves, hunting coats, vests, boots, puppies, firearms, archery equipment, trucks, atvs, or any stuff that the giftee should have some input on size, brand, breed, etc. UNLESS, you have specific directions. I think these items are reasonably priced, useful, and fun gifts - except for the the Rambo Power Bike but it would be useful and fun too.

Would be pring turkey hunters and bear hunters, remenber December 10 is the permit application dealine for both. The Wisconsin DNR says that there were only three non-fatal shooting accidents early on in the season. The accidents are too bad, but after a tough year last year, this is pretty good.

Until next time, get out - El and I and Scout picked out and cut a Christmas tree up in our Christmas tree plot on Saturday. We chose a tall spruce that had beem mangled by a randy buck or two in the early fall. Back at the ranch we still had to trim off a foot or more to make it work in our living room. The whole place smells of evergreen. Enjoy.