Ugh... my alma mater

Reading online at Indianapolis airport and stumbled into this headline. From Minneapolis City Pages: Wisconsin high schoolers think KKK t-shirts are a big joke. And people ask why I don't attend class reunions.

http://bit.ly/9yIz0h

An intense day of travel

Ike’s in downtown Minneapolis has been one of my favorite pre-Twins games destinations. Pricy but fantastic burgers. A California buddy who accompanied me there once declared it the best burger he’d consumed in his 40-plus years on Planet Earth. A middle-boy baseball tilt this evening forced my wife to deposit me early at MSP, which meant I had time to indulge in an burger at airport Ike’s. After clearing security, I figured there was time to see how its slab of beef compared to the downtown version.

Traveling solo, I sauntered up to the one remaining spot at the bar and pulled up a chair. Now, I wore comfortable clothes for my flight this evening: shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. So perhaps, I shouldn’t be offended when the bartender at airport Ike’s asked for an ID. I’m 40 years old, so it’s a compliment, right? Nonetheless, I don’t drink and told the rotund barkeep that I just wanted water and a burger. His reply at my nonalcoholic request? “I don’t care. You still need an ID to be in here.” (Keep in mind, I’ve just cleared security at an international airport and odds are pretty good that I have an ID.) Then he plodded away as I fumbled for my wallet. 90 seconds later, watching the bartender ignore me and realizing that another business might appreciate my money more, I got up and walked out.

Suduku puzzles in the in-flight magazines usually occupy a sizable chunk of my time aboard aircraft. Tragically, because it’s mid-June, the inflight mags are old, and everyone has worked the puzzles. So I succumbed to people-watching. A herd of 70-somethings was particularly fascinating on this flight to Indianapolis. They scurried around, up and down repeatedly in the row ahead of me, which is particularly irritating as they bumped the seats. Several of them traded locations with another group of proto-geriatrics four rows back. If teenagers behaved this way, the flight attendants would contact Homeland Security and divert the flight to Gitmo. And of course, these seniors would be the first folks to bleat about children speaking in any tones above a dull whisper.

Did I mentioned the hour wait on MSP tarmac before we took flight?

Had a nice conversation with the gal next to me when we landed in Indianapolis, at least until I told her I was from Eden Prairie to which she responded that my ‘burb is too “hoity-toity” for her. Really, ma’am, and your town is too stinkin’ redneck for me, but I’m too polite to say that aloud.

Then there was the hour wait for the shuttle bus, a clueless driver who drove 10 under the speed limit, and the hotel staff who couldn’t answer yes to a single question.

All in all, a great day to be the Intense Traveler. Tomorrow will improve I’m sure.

Outdoor Writers conference

Spent Friday at the Outdoor Writers Association of America annual conference in Rochester. The four-day event travels every year, and it last visited Minnesota in 1996. (Madison hosted the conference in 2005, but I missed that one thanks to the arrival of Jameson Thomas Drieslein that exact same weekend. I had my priorities straight.)

In my 13 years as an OWAA member, I've attended six conferences, and they usually offer some saving grace that justifies me attending. Yesterday I drove south through a torrential downpour from the Twin Cities for the second full day of the gathering, which coincided with "breakout day" at the Gamehaven Scout Camp – about 10 minutes south of Rochester. Miserable weather en route convinced me that organizers probably would cancel any outdoor activities, but the show went on. Overturned tents and lake-sized puddles greeted attendees early, but things cleared off as the morning progressed.

I headed for the rifle shooting area immediately upon arrival, and found myself surrounded by a grand total of nine other people. Wisconsin Outdoor News Editor Dean Bortz and myself had the run of the place, firing a nifty assortment of Smith & Wesson and Browning rifles and handguns. (Thank you very much to those two manufacturers for attending with some very competent, safe, and knowledgeable staff present.) Dan Hansen, a regular shooting writer from the Outdoor News Publications also was on hand helping out.

Had a great time shooting the AR-15s, which the gun industry would like me to begin referring to as "modern sporting rifles." Whatever you call them, they're fun to shoot. I would dare even the most ardent anti-gunner not to enjoy shooting the little AR-15 .22 from S&W. No kick and empowering rapid-firing a dozen rounds in mere seconds at a target. The centerfire .223s had significantly more kick, but I fully intend to buy one of each. Never thought I'd be the kind of guy who purchased a military-style firearm, but strictly speaking, they're no different than any other semi-auto. And dang they look cool.

This morning, Outdoor News sponsored a breakfast for participants, and clearly a good share of the writers were up late last night enjoying the hospitality suites. I counted roughly 100 people in the room, which means a solid share of the other attendees were sleeping in. Those who listened to my brief talk about Outdoor News and its history were very attentive and complimentary. Though I scooted out for a morning of kid baseball (and moving chores) back in the Cities, I'm glad I headed south for 24 hours in Rochester and the OWAA Conference. Next year's event will happen in June in Salt Lake City (Snowbird Resort) followed by an eagerly anticipated conference in Sept. 2012 in Fairbanks, Alaska. Haven't been to Alaska in more than a decade, so OWAA 2012 might offer an obvious excuse to visit again.

Remembering trip to the Gulf Coast

My one and only spring break trip occurred in 1992, my senior year in college. Six buddies – all burly, loud, hard-drinking, working-class students at a state university – pooled a few bucks and borrowed a rundown van. Like many of our fellow Midwesterners, we pointed the hood south. Unlike many of our fellow students, we went … wildlife watching. No kidding. Two guys were buds from the wildlife ecology department at the University of Wisconsin-Madison and along with this science-journalism major, we convinced three others to tent-camp along the Gulf of Mexico. For guys who’d grown up hunting and trapping in western Wisconsin and southeast Minnesota, it was an opportunity to view a whole different world of alligators, nutria, and saltwater marshland birds of the Louisiana and Texas Coast. OK, there was a hazy 24 hours in the Big Easy, but overall, our focus was camping and wildlife watching … with some campfire imbibing. It was a significantly more productive, and cheaper, than spring break in Mexico or Daytona.
Like many Minnesotans in the midst of prime fishing and kid baseball seasons, I find it easy to ignore what’s transpiring in the Gulf of Mexico. But I see the names of our incredible destinations from almost two decades ago, places like Grand Isle, La., and Sabine National Wildlife Refuge in Texas, and can’t imagine the long-term effects of the oil spill on the region and its wildlife.
The hyperbole from both political extremes hasn’t helped the discussion. On the right, we have congressmen like Alaska’s Don Young declaring the spill no big deal. Nevermind that there’s an oil slick the size of Iowa, and growing, waiting for waterfowl and other shorebirds this fall. (Not to mention underwater marine life and shutting down a third of the Gulf Coast fishing industry.) On the left, we’re hearing a call to end all offshore oil drilling. I’m all for finding alternative energy sources for automobile fuel, but crude oil has lots of uses beyond gasoline. Unless the hardcore environmentalists would like us rendering whale blubber again, humanity will be using bubbling crude in some capacity for a long time.
The oil industry has been conducting deep-water drilling for decades, but one incident like this is one too many. No matter how unlikely the odds of it happening again given existing safety standards, the industry needs to take those standards to an even higher level. My gripe: How often do you hear some right-wing TV or radio blowhard bashing unnecessary “environmental regulations?” Um, you mean like laws that might require functional emergency valves on underwater oil pipelines? You just know some congressman with Big Oil in his backpocket called in favors and proclaimed that the feds could rely on “industry recommendations” for blowout system maintenance. Why does it take a disaster like this for everyone to agree (even industry) that existing safety protocols don’t cut the mustard? The whole thing stinks worse than that van at the end of our spring break trip.
Dennis Anderson at the Star Tribune wrote this past weekend on the potential effects of the Gulf oil spill on waterfowl management this fall. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and flyway council completely baffle me every year on season frameworks. Doesn’t matter what water or weather conditions greet the Duck Factory, we always have a liberal season. Too much emphasis on mallards and too much influence from the Southern half of the flyway. No, many of these birds won’t use areas affected by the oil, but the nation’s duck managers had better consider the wintering grounds thoroughly when setting this fall’s season strategies. If it’s another liberal season, then something stinks about duck management, too.

Loving North Carolina

My U.S. Marine Corps brother is stationed at Camp LeJeune, N.C., so I visited him for a few days there last year before his tour of Afghanistan. Had a great time and knew my wife and kids would love the area, too, so with an extended spring break available to us, we shipped out last Wednesday, March 31. Capt. Tim and his wife, Tanya, put us up (put up with us) for a night at their place in Stella, N.C., then we traveled by mini-van and ferry to the Outer Banks. Had marvelous weather for traveling, no problem with any flights (congratulations Delta) and the boys had the time of their lives on the OBX beaches. We rented a beach house (more like a mansion) for off-season rates and enjoyed the beach for swimming and kite-flying every day.
Why more Midwesterners don't head to the OBX more often, I do not know. It's a two-hour flight to Raleigh, then a 3.5-hour drive to the middle portion of the Outer Banks. We had a marvelous time with family and falling asleep to the sound of ocean waves every night for a week. I think we'll probably return to the area for a week, perhaps over the so-called MEA weekend one of these years.

View from OBX

Boys enjoyed beach on Outer Banks last week.

Canoe Country wilderness planning

Eurotrek planning should ramp up again soon, but tonight – in honor of the entry point lottery deadline in two hours – let’s talk a little Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. Though I’ve visited the BWCA twice and done my share of canoe country travel (and backcountry travel in general), summer 2010 will mark the first time a BWCA permit will have my name on it as group leader. Truth be told, I haven’t done any serious backcountry travel since 2000 when my youngest son was a mere year old. After traipsing through some of the continent’s roughest country (it was cheaper than European travel) during the 1990s, I spent the 20-Zeros raising toddlers into healthy young boys. Correction, I’ve mostly watched and helped prevent chaos while my wonderful wife has raised these three boys into well-adjusted human beings.

Annette would probably rather travel somewhere else, but she understands that solitude and adventure run in Drieslein boy blood. She’s a good sport and willing to tolerate four nights of sampling the Singing Wilderness with us sometime in late July 2010, after little league baseball season ends (it starts in a little over two months!) If we have even semi-decent weather, the boys – who will be ages 11, 8, and 5 by then – should have a great time.

Radio cohost Tim Lesmeister tells me the fishing generally runs a little hotter on the Ely side of the B-Dub, and the Driesleins, especially Middle Boy, want to catch some walleyes. Though it contains some rough portages, the Mudro entry point looks intriguing thanks to relatively easy access to Horse and Fourtown lakes – both good for walleyes. We’ll try the old jig-n-leech setup, or maybe jig-n-(salted) minnow, and work the rock piles on the windward sides of those lakes. A good day trip is following the Horse River down to Lower Basswood Falls. Kids will love the falls and then there are some Indian pictographs as the border waters open up into Crooked Lake.

The permitting procedure at www.recreation.gov website operates pretty efficiently, and I’m betting we’ll know our lot when first-come, first-serve permits go on sale Jan. 20. Will keep readers posted, and I promise Eurotrek updates will be forthcoming!