Shelter

For my birthday, Daniel got me a copy of Shelter, a book from the early 70s that celebrates the "imagination, resourcefulness, and exuberance of human habitat." It's basically a scrapbook of yurts, treehouses, tents, domes and all the other types of "green" dwellings that you can build when you leave the city and head for the hills. It's put together like the hodgepodge of newspaper clippings that a psycho killer keeps on the wall of his dingy apartment in the movies. It's big like a newspaper with lots of writing, tons of pictures and absolutely no order whatsoever. Even Edward Abbey digs on it:

"How very fine it is to leaf through a 176-page book on architecture - from baliwicks to zomes - and find no places, no pyramids or temples, no cathedrals, skyscrapers, Kremlins or Pentagons in sight..instead, a book of homes, habitations for human beings in all their infinite variety."

Lloyd Kahn, the book's editor, has a few of these things that you can buy here.Thanks Daniel.

Bemidji Woolen Mills

bm07_88I was reading 10Engines yesterday when I came across the image above, a Scotch Cap from Bemidji Woolen Mills. I spent my summers at camp up in Bemidji, MN and we used to ask our counselors to get us these hats when they would go into town. Sometimes they'd come back with them, sometimes they'd be empty handed and reek of cheap beer from The Squirrel's Nest. My dark green version was perfect for cold nights in front of the lake, learning to play "Run Around" on a newly purchased black Washburn guitar that was twice my size. Puberty was a long long way off.On my first day of college in Boulder, Colorado, I was walking through Farrand Field and spotted someone with a blaze orange version. I got closer, dude's face got clearer, and by the time I was near enough to start the small talk I had prepared in my head on the walk over, I realized it was a friend of mine from camp that had helped teach me guitar chords on Lake Plantagenet. It had been many years since I had seen him and he was playing frisbee with his cousin, another camp buddy, so the three of us chatted for a few minutes about those summers and the merits of looking like Elmer Fudd. I saw those guys all the time for the next four years. Good first day of college.I'm not a very fashionable guy and I sure as hell don't know much about any of the latest clothing trends, so I'll probably look a complete idiot in this hat now, but what the hell. It's a damn fine thing to keep your head warm when the sun goes down.

The Hunt

NYT:

A wolf hunt is set to begin in Idaho on Tuesday if a federal judge does not stop it. It would be the first time in decades that hunters have been allowed to pursue the gray wolf, an animal that has come to symbolize tensions over how people interact with wilderness in the West.On Monday, the judge, Donald W. Molloy of Federal District Court, will hold a hearing to determine whether to issue an injunction sought by wildlife advocates against the hunt and reopen the question of returning the wolf to the endangered list.Gray wolves were taken off the list five months ago, after being protected under federal law for more than 30 years. More than 6,000 hunters in Idaho have bought licenses for the chance to participate in the hunt, in which wildlife officials will allow 220 wolves to be killed. In 2008, the population stood at about 850. Montana will allow 75 animals to be killed, starting Sept. 15.

And the debate rolls on. MP3: Jerry Garcia - To Lay Me Down

The Long Trail

The Long Trail:

Built by the Green Mountain Club between 1910 and 1930, the Long Trail is the oldest long-distance trail in the United States. The Long Trail follows the main ridge of the Green Mountains from the Massachusetts-Vermont line to the Canadian border as it crosses Vermont's highest peaks. It was the inspiration for the Appalachian Trail, which coincides with it for one hundred miles in the southern third of the state.Although the Long Trail is known as Vermont's "footpath in the wilderness," its character may more accurately be described as backcountry. As it winds its way to Canada, the Trail climbs rugged peaks and passes pristine ponds, alpine bogs, hardwood forests and swift streams. The Long Trail is steep in some places, muddy in others, and rugged in most. Novice and expert alike will enjoy the varied terrain of the trail as it passes through the heart of Vermont's backwoods.With its 270-mile footpath, 175 miles of side trails, and nearly 70 primitive shelters, the Long Trail offers endless hiking opportunities for the day hiker, weekend overnighter, and extended backpacker.

Backpacker.com has mapped out the Long Trail for your hiking and camping needs. Click here to check it out.MP3: The Strokes - You Only Live Once

John Wesley Powell

John Wesley Powell:

It was 1869. Ten men in four boats were about to embark on a journey that would cover almost 1,000 miles through uncharted canyons and change the west forever. Three months later only five of the original company plus their one-armed Civil War hero leader would emerge from the depths of the Grand Canyon at the mouth of the Virgin River.Thirty five-year-old Major John Wesley Powell was that expedition's leader. From early childhood Powell manifested deep interest in all natural phenomena. Original and self-reliant to a remarkable degree, he early undertook collecting and exploring trips quite unusual for a youth of his age, and studied botany, zoology, and geology wholly without the aid of a teacher.

Read: The Exploration Of The Colorado River and Its Canyons

The Boundary Waters

Mark Cahill is a friend of mine from suburban Chicago high school. The last time I saw him was many years ago in Lawrence, Kansas, where his then-girlfriend danced on the bar at an underage watering hole and got us kicked out. He recently got back from a canoe trip in the Boundary Waters and kindly wrote the following for Cold Splinters. Enjoy. Just before Duluth, MN it was time that we switched drivers so that I could finally catch a couple Zzz's. We left Chicago about seven hours earlier and it was a short drive along the Northern Edge of Lake Superior to the Ranger's Station near Grand Marais, MN, where our permits lay waiting. I hopped in the front seat and shuffled around until I masterfully lodged my head in between the window and my seat belt. I had just fallen asleep listening to JJ Cale's "Travelin' Light" and was suddenly woken by a hard slam on the brakes. I popped up and about twenty feet in front of the car was a big fat, "Welcome to the Boundary Waters, Boys!" Somewhere in between that rush of thinking you're flying into Lake Superior and being groggy from sleep, I realized that we stopped for my very first sighting of a Grey Wolf. I don't know why, but I nodded at the beautiful little guy as he slowly retreated into the woods. Perhaps it was because I knew we were there.After grabbing our permits from the Ranger's Station, we turned North in Grand Marais and headed up the Gunflint Trail in Superior National Forest. Roughly forty-five minutes later and about a mile from the Canadian Border, we reached our departure point, Round Lake. There is a small Canoe Outfitter (Tuscorora) at the edge of the Lake, and as it turns out a friendly face - The owner's sister lives in my hometown! After some friendly banter about water levels and fishing hotspots/depths we loaded up our canoe and pushed off. A quick half mile paddle across the Lake and we reached our first portage. It was a doozy at 142 Rods, and about half-way through we saw the sign! Entry Point #51. Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. We took the Frost River Loop through the BWCAW, a fairly tough route that features a narrow winding river mid-way through. Lots of portages to hike and lots of beaver dams to hop; Gorgeous Lakes and good boulder diving; Leaches and pesky mosquitoes; Common Loon and Bald Eagle; Bull Moose and Black Bear...It was perfect!A few days later I perched myself on a boulder and unsheathed my travel sketchbook from it's waterproofing. Flipping through the worn pages, it occurred to me just what the glaciers had carved into our continent during the last Ice Age. Maybe by accident, or maybe because my bowling name is 'Iceman,' I've tended to live near distinctive landscapes created by those large glacial movements from so long ago: From Hills in Kansas, Moraines in Wisconsin, to those Great Lakes. I pulled out my favorite Techliner Drafting pen and scratched in a new page, then headed back to the camp fire with some old friends hoping to hear my new friend - the Grey Wolf - howl, "Good Night!"MP3: JJ Cale - Travelin' Light