.
Showing posts with label River. Show all posts
Showing posts with label River. Show all posts
Osprey Sitings
Osprey are endangered in Indiana and two years ago chicks were reintroduced but not in this area. So it was with great excitement last night that Steve and I observed an osprey take off from the river bank, circle over the riverboat and head downriver . We watched it land and as we went downstream, it took off again. Tonight Steve was on the river and sited the osprey again. Both sitings were at dusk on the St. Joseph River north of Leo.
Wild Pectin
My "go-to" cookbook for years has been The Joy of Cooking, because it includes so much background information. For example, the intro to jellies includes information about pectin. By using natural pectin, instead of commercial pectin such as Sure-Gel, jellies require about half the sugar resulting in an intense fruit flavor.
But the seven bags of Concord grapes on my counter are not high in pectin. The Joy gave several options for natural pectin for grape jelly: use under-ripe fruit, use wild grapes, add an apple. So here are the steps for making low-sugar grape jelly without commercial pectic:
1. Take a ride on the river.
Make a date with your husband to go to the St. Joseph River in the Western Lake Erie watershed. Nose the riverboat into shore and cut off (prune?) the vines until you have a large pile on the floor of the boat. Remove the clusters. Step on numerous tiny grapes (they are smaller than blueberries), staining the floor with unique patterns of reddish purple. Watch the moon rise as you head back to the landing. Some sweet smooching is required at this point.
2. Ignore all warnings posted on the blog of an Internet friend.
Google "wild grape jelly" and find this post by Kylee, which includes the money quote:
Yes, it takes a long time. Kylee is right. To break the monotony of this chore, make two batches of Concord jelly using some under-ripe fruit and half an apple to 8 cups of grapes. Making jelly with natural pectin requires a candy thermometer to know when the syrup reaches the sheet stage. If you are easily entertained, as I am, use the spoon method to test the jelly as well as the thermometer. Instead of the one or two minutes required with commercial pectic, this approach takes about 30 minutes of cooking.
4. Accept five bags of peaches and pears from brother.
At this point, you may be getting slightly insane, so when your brother calls and offers you peaches and pears from his orchard, resist the offer. Remember you still have four bags of grapes left on your counter. I didn't resist. My son drove over and collected the fruit so it could sit on my table. I ran out of counter room.
5. Cook, drain and strain the fruit.
The proportion of seeds to juice for wild grapes is about 10 times more than for Concord grapes. Empty the cooked wild grapes into a fine mesh strainer, listening for the clunk of seeds instead of the usual plop. For clear jelly, strain for 15 hours. Skip the straining if you are getting impatient or if you must use every last edible bit of these grapes.
6. Add sugar to grape juice and boil until it gels.
Add the sugar gradually, tasting the syrup until it is the right combination of sweet and tart. The wild grapes will gel in about ten minutes.
7. Seal in small jars.
It is important to use the smallest jars possible. This is precious stuff. Don't calculate the cost of each jar based on your consulting rate. You may weep.
8. Let your son lick the pan.
And smile knowingly when he raves about the taste.
But the seven bags of Concord grapes on my counter are not high in pectin. The Joy gave several options for natural pectin for grape jelly: use under-ripe fruit, use wild grapes, add an apple. So here are the steps for making low-sugar grape jelly without commercial pectic:
1. Take a ride on the river.
Make a date with your husband to go to the St. Joseph River in the Western Lake Erie watershed. Nose the riverboat into shore and cut off (prune?) the vines until you have a large pile on the floor of the boat. Remove the clusters. Step on numerous tiny grapes (they are smaller than blueberries), staining the floor with unique patterns of reddish purple. Watch the moon rise as you head back to the landing. Some sweet smooching is required at this point.
2. Ignore all warnings posted on the blog of an Internet friend.
Google "wild grape jelly" and find this post by Kylee, which includes the money quote:
The first thing I had to do was take all those tiny grapes off their stems. This job reminded me of shelling peas. It takes forever and a day of cleaning those before you get enough to feed two people one time.3. Spend five hours de-stemming the grapes.
Yes, it takes a long time. Kylee is right. To break the monotony of this chore, make two batches of Concord jelly using some under-ripe fruit and half an apple to 8 cups of grapes. Making jelly with natural pectin requires a candy thermometer to know when the syrup reaches the sheet stage. If you are easily entertained, as I am, use the spoon method to test the jelly as well as the thermometer. Instead of the one or two minutes required with commercial pectic, this approach takes about 30 minutes of cooking.
4. Accept five bags of peaches and pears from brother.
At this point, you may be getting slightly insane, so when your brother calls and offers you peaches and pears from his orchard, resist the offer. Remember you still have four bags of grapes left on your counter. I didn't resist. My son drove over and collected the fruit so it could sit on my table. I ran out of counter room.
5. Cook, drain and strain the fruit.
The proportion of seeds to juice for wild grapes is about 10 times more than for Concord grapes. Empty the cooked wild grapes into a fine mesh strainer, listening for the clunk of seeds instead of the usual plop. For clear jelly, strain for 15 hours. Skip the straining if you are getting impatient or if you must use every last edible bit of these grapes.
6. Add sugar to grape juice and boil until it gels.
Add the sugar gradually, tasting the syrup until it is the right combination of sweet and tart. The wild grapes will gel in about ten minutes.
7. Seal in small jars.
It is important to use the smallest jars possible. This is precious stuff. Don't calculate the cost of each jar based on your consulting rate. You may weep.
8. Let your son lick the pan.
And smile knowingly when he raves about the taste.
The Voyager's Maiden Voyage
Last weekend, Steve and I finally slipped away to Michigan, just over the state line, to camp and canoe the Fawn River near Sturgis. It has been likened to rivers in Canada by more than one nature writer. The night before we left, Steve finished the canoe.
We had a great time with my brother, his girlfriend and four other couples camped in the crook of the Fawn near Sturgis. Two of my brothers have camped here by permission of the landowner for almost 30 years, but this was my first trip. We had such a good time that another couples trip was scheduled for October.
Brother John, whom I call Fireboy, is the fire architect. Sunday night he put a large hollow log upright on the fire and we watched flames shoot through the chimney and discussed which way it would fall. In this picture, he is bracing the chimney with several "small" logs in the foreground.
We had a great time with my brother, his girlfriend and four other couples camped in the crook of the Fawn near Sturgis. Two of my brothers have camped here by permission of the landowner for almost 30 years, but this was my first trip. We had such a good time that another couples trip was scheduled for October.
Brother John, whom I call Fireboy, is the fire architect. Sunday night he put a large hollow log upright on the fire and we watched flames shoot through the chimney and discussed which way it would fall. In this picture, he is bracing the chimney with several "small" logs in the foreground.
A Night on the River
My husband I took the riverboat out tonight. I was going to link to a picture of the boat but discovered I never posted one. So here is a picture from last summer.
We always head upriver first (so we can float back if there is any trouble) and the first bridge we come to is the historic Van Zile bridge. Until I saw the photo, I didn't realize the trees are no longer the lush green of early summer.
We turned around a few bends after the next bridge and headed back into the sunset reflected by some swirly clouds which were reflected in the river.
Then a low "smoke" cloud entered the scene.
Before we landed, the moon rose. It is impossible to hold the camera still on a riverboat to take a night photo, but you can tell how awesome a moonrise is on a river. Perhaps I may even have broke into my rendition of Moon River at this point.
We always head upriver first (so we can float back if there is any trouble) and the first bridge we come to is the historic Van Zile bridge. Until I saw the photo, I didn't realize the trees are no longer the lush green of early summer.
We turned around a few bends after the next bridge and headed back into the sunset reflected by some swirly clouds which were reflected in the river.
Then a low "smoke" cloud entered the scene.
Before we landed, the moon rose. It is impossible to hold the camera still on a riverboat to take a night photo, but you can tell how awesome a moonrise is on a river. Perhaps I may even have broke into my rendition of Moon River at this point.
Our Fourth
Two days. Two couples. Too much fun.
Saturday morning we needed jackets as we took our camping gear to The Highlands with the top down and doors off the Jeep. On the way, a grey fox stepped out of the cornfield, stared at us and then loped back into the woods. After meeting our friends for breakfast and decorating ourselves with "Growing Wild for Conservation" tattoos, we loaded up two kayaks, one Rob Roy (Steve built it) and two solo canoes and headed north to paddle Pigeon River.
We put in at the bridge by Highway 327. The water was cold and the current was strong. Tammy, Stephanie and I used our paddles only to guide us, but we suspect Steve and Brian used their paddles to paddle backwards as we outdistanced them.
We pulled over at the first bridge to wait for them as there is a little rapids over an old dam. After "wheeeing" over the dam, we exited our boats and body surfed in the water. You can see Stephanie at the far left of the first picture, which I took when she first jumped in the fast water.
These photos show the brushy area where we tied off. Brian grabbed a dark branch to steady himself and it moved quickly into the water. The snake headed straight for Stephanie and tried to get in the Rob Roy. Just a little shriek was heard above the roar of the water.
The next section took us deeper into the woods. The shade was welcome and the dappled river bottom mesmerized me. In the sunny patches, swamp milkweed and pink roses were in bloom. We had a picnic lunch creekside and then tackled the last stretch. Again, the girls outdistanced the guys. So we stood on the bridge, drying off, and played with our shadows, until the guys rounded the bend.
Back at The Highlands, my brother had already started a fire, so we set up camp, cooked dinner, and played with Sampson.
As night fell, we sat around the campfire star gazing followed by a midnight walk through the woods down to the river. The night was clear and the stars were bright. We saw Draco the dragon stretching over the barn, the binary star in the Big Dipper, satellites, and shooting stars.
It was a lazy Sunday due to the heat. Our children came to visit and left. Then Steve, Brian, John, Anna and I took the river boat to watch the Leo-Cedarville fireworks from the water. I caught the setting sun but have no fireworks pictures. I put my camera away to participate rather than just observe. It was a long dark trip back to the property as we kept close watch for logjams, floating logs, and the river channel.
Saturday morning we needed jackets as we took our camping gear to The Highlands with the top down and doors off the Jeep. On the way, a grey fox stepped out of the cornfield, stared at us and then loped back into the woods. After meeting our friends for breakfast and decorating ourselves with "Growing Wild for Conservation" tattoos, we loaded up two kayaks, one Rob Roy (Steve built it) and two solo canoes and headed north to paddle Pigeon River.
We put in at the bridge by Highway 327. The water was cold and the current was strong. Tammy, Stephanie and I used our paddles only to guide us, but we suspect Steve and Brian used their paddles to paddle backwards as we outdistanced them.
We pulled over at the first bridge to wait for them as there is a little rapids over an old dam. After "wheeeing" over the dam, we exited our boats and body surfed in the water. You can see Stephanie at the far left of the first picture, which I took when she first jumped in the fast water.
These photos show the brushy area where we tied off. Brian grabbed a dark branch to steady himself and it moved quickly into the water. The snake headed straight for Stephanie and tried to get in the Rob Roy. Just a little shriek was heard above the roar of the water.
The next section took us deeper into the woods. The shade was welcome and the dappled river bottom mesmerized me. In the sunny patches, swamp milkweed and pink roses were in bloom. We had a picnic lunch creekside and then tackled the last stretch. Again, the girls outdistanced the guys. So we stood on the bridge, drying off, and played with our shadows, until the guys rounded the bend.
Back at The Highlands, my brother had already started a fire, so we set up camp, cooked dinner, and played with Sampson.
As night fell, we sat around the campfire star gazing followed by a midnight walk through the woods down to the river. The night was clear and the stars were bright. We saw Draco the dragon stretching over the barn, the binary star in the Big Dipper, satellites, and shooting stars.
It was a lazy Sunday due to the heat. Our children came to visit and left. Then Steve, Brian, John, Anna and I took the river boat to watch the Leo-Cedarville fireworks from the water. I caught the setting sun but have no fireworks pictures. I put my camera away to participate rather than just observe. It was a long dark trip back to the property as we kept close watch for logjams, floating logs, and the river channel.
Fourth on the River
Fourth on the River
We took the paddlewheel boat downriver to Leo-Cedarville to watch their fireworks last night. There was a thunderstorm watch and the sky looked ominous as we launched with drinks, snacks and raingear. As we plopped downstream (plop goes the paddles), other boats joined us, including two Amish boys on a jet ski (!) and an overloaded pontoon of Amish. It never did rain, but the front brought in welcome cooler temperatures. We anchored at the edge of a river bend with a direct view of the fireworks launch and waited two hours for the fireworks to start. There were wild pink roses blooming on the shore, frogs croaking and herons flying overhead. To pass the time, we played Independence Day 20 questions. Since there was a theme, it started out pretty easy, but dh Steve stumped us with aluminum dust which is used in fireworks. I then stumped them with "Red, White and Blue" because they did not expect colors.
I wasn't too successful with my digital camera, but a few interesting shots are posted below. The reflection of the fireworks in the water was a double treat, but I couldn't capture it too well with the camera. The other cool thing about watching fireworks in the river is the sound of the booms traveling up the river valley. It sounded like jet fighters as the sound traveled in the distance.
After the smoke from the grand finale dissipated, we let the other boats leave and then slowly paddled upstream, with all hands looking for logs -- floaters, deadheads. Several boats had powerful spotlights for this purpose, but we have better luck getting our night vision and doing it with only the dim light of the night.
We took the paddlewheel boat downriver to Leo-Cedarville to watch their fireworks last night. There was a thunderstorm watch and the sky looked ominous as we launched with drinks, snacks and raingear. As we plopped downstream (plop goes the paddles), other boats joined us, including two Amish boys on a jet ski (!) and an overloaded pontoon of Amish. It never did rain, but the front brought in welcome cooler temperatures. We anchored at the edge of a river bend with a direct view of the fireworks launch and waited two hours for the fireworks to start. There were wild pink roses blooming on the shore, frogs croaking and herons flying overhead. To pass the time, we played Independence Day 20 questions. Since there was a theme, it started out pretty easy, but dh Steve stumped us with aluminum dust which is used in fireworks. I then stumped them with "Red, White and Blue" because they did not expect colors.
I wasn't too successful with my digital camera, but a few interesting shots are posted below. The reflection of the fireworks in the water was a double treat, but I couldn't capture it too well with the camera. The other cool thing about watching fireworks in the river is the sound of the booms traveling up the river valley. It sounded like jet fighters as the sound traveled in the distance.
After the smoke from the grand finale dissipated, we let the other boats leave and then slowly paddled upstream, with all hands looking for logs -- floaters, deadheads. Several boats had powerful spotlights for this purpose, but we have better luck getting our night vision and doing it with only the dim light of the night.
How can I be back if I didn't go anywhere?
I can't believe it has been a month since I last posted. I should be regaling you with all of the exciting things I've been doing that prevented me from posting the entries that I write in my head every day, but I've just been doing the busy things that a mother, a gardener and a naturalist do during June. (I can use the naturalist moniker because I am close to becoming a Master Naturalist, just 19 more volunteer hours.)
So on Independence Day, I will show you one thing that has occupied our family, mostly my husband and sons. It has been the Summer of Aesthetics for the Loony Toons, our sidewheeler pontoon boat, even though my husband has been dreaming and researching how to convert it to a steam-driven boat. Do you know how much a boiler and steam engine cost? Think 5 figures and you will know why it hasn't been the Summer of Mechanicals.
We will be taking the boat downriver for the fireworks in Leo tonight. This is the first year in decades that we are on Daylight Savings Time (the effects which are worthy of another post), so it will be a late night. Today I will be getting provisions ready for the trip: food, drinks, blankets for the cool ride home. This has become an annual pilgrimage.
I am also posting the "before" picture so you can be amazed at the transformative powers of paint and new handrails.
Rollin' on the river
Riverboat season is in full swing and the St. Joe (Maumee Basin) lures us with her charms.
Like the ancient Phoenicians, we use a tiller to steer the boat.
You can see one of the red paddlewheels on the right side of the picture
First we power up, by turning the newly acquired antique wheel* to transfer power from the engine to the drive shaft to turn the paddle wheels. This is my cue to sing the chorus from Proud Mary.
That's my father-in-law standing on the upper deck and my husband operating the craft.
That's my father-in-law standing on the upper deck and my husband operating the craft.
Like the ancient Phoenicians, we use a tiller to steer the boat.You can see one of the red paddlewheels on the right side of the picture
Unless turning, it takes very little effort to steer.
But what's that wooden pole in every picture?
A fish net is hooked on the end of a long pole so we can quickly scoop up any trash we might find sullying the face of our river.
The basswoods are in bloom and every so often their delicate scent is sent our way.
So we sing, we nature watch, we clean-up, we unwind on the river. Not too much different than what I posted about five years ago. Here's a copy since I can't link to the old individual posts:
We have been enjoying the pontoon on the river. Picture this. Pontoon is tied off on the shady side of the river. Boys are fishing. Mom is bouncing big bubbles down the current using her own soap bubble recipe. Dad is playing his dulcimer. Great blue herons, green herons, belted kingfishers, red-tailed hawks, and swallows fly overhead. A muskrat swims across the river, leaving a long wake. Turtles sun on a log with no worry about skin cancer. We pull up anchor and drift toward the sunset reflected in the river. Back at the property, we build a small fire, cook supper, tell stories, make up songs, watch the stars and laugh and love each other. 7/08/2002 02:28:00 PMI still remember what a friend said about this post. She said the picture it created in her mind was so different from what she knew was real, although everything I said was true. The 12 y.o. boys are fishing but also squabbling. Dad is playing the dulcimer but also controlling the sibling chaos. Mom is blowing bubbles but in her river clothes and not a gauzy summer dress.
* Antique wheel: Steve called me at work last week and said, "You know you are a redneck when you view going to a junkyard as a shopping trip." Steve and Ron cleaned the barn and took a load of steel to sell at a junkyard and spent more than they received: the wheel for the boat, a new radio for the truck, and two steel toolboxes.
Come summer, we'll be on the river
Here's our river boat and look closely at the seond picture for a typical river sight. Yes, the boat is one of a kind and people do stop on the iron bridge to stare when we come round the river bend.
Days of Spring
How have I spent these first few days of spring weather? Steve and I spent them in a maple woods gathering sap (it's flowing fast and furious now), finding bright red fungus (it looked like plastic) and a very large bird skull (probably an owl). I potted up some caladiums and begonias I overwintered, but am getting a very late start on seeds. I checked the ground to see if I could start planting some early crops, but it is still frozen solid. The snow melt revealed a lot of our dog's treasures in the yard, which are now in the garbage.
We went to the Boys' Club Saturday night on the river and trudged down to stare at the water. It is flowing in the center but there are still sheets of ice along the banks. I had great fun in breaking off big sheets of ice with a long stick and sending them into the current to watch where they crashed. After watching a few minutes, Steve said, "I've got to find a stick!"
Ricky grabbed my hand and pulled me outside yesterday to show me the almost blooming crocus. What a thrill that some of my joy about gardening has rubbed off on my sons.
We went to the Boys' Club Saturday night on the river and trudged down to stare at the water. It is flowing in the center but there are still sheets of ice along the banks. I had great fun in breaking off big sheets of ice with a long stick and sending them into the current to watch where they crashed. After watching a few minutes, Steve said, "I've got to find a stick!"
Ricky grabbed my hand and pulled me outside yesterday to show me the almost blooming crocus. What a thrill that some of my joy about gardening has rubbed off on my sons.
Flood concerns
Cedar Creek at Cedarville, IN is now at 4790, but it looks like it may be cresting. I hope so. We pulled the riverboat onto shore of the St. Joe River, which shows no sign of cresting yet. The boat is now floating. If the water drops before it freezes, we will be OK. If the water freezes at the flood stage, the expansion will crush the pontoon tubes. Too bad we didn't move it to the barn.
Trying to set water records
With 60° temps and heavy rain, my crocus thought it was springtime. The foliage is just breaking through. Usually Not Creek, which runs through our land before feeding into Cedar Creek, is over its banks and gurgling over tree roots. The USGS Real-Time Water Data site shows Cedar Creek at 2720 cubic feet per second with the record at 2830 for this date. To give you an idea of how high this is, the 80th percentile is 401 cubic feet per second. Here's the link to the site but since it is in real time, I'm not sure you can tell much from it. But follow the link anyway and explore your favorite rivers.
UPDATE: I posted this and then viewed it and checked the link. Cedar Creek has set a new 60-year record flowing at 2880 cubic feet per second.
Update 2: It is now up to 3900 cubic feet per second and it is still raining.
As you look at these pictures of Usually Not Creek, remember that this is almost always a dry creek bed, it is the middle of winter, and none of this water has reached the already high Cedar Creek.
UPDATE: I posted this and then viewed it and checked the link. Cedar Creek has set a new 60-year record flowing at 2880 cubic feet per second.
Update 2: It is now up to 3900 cubic feet per second and it is still raining.
As you look at these pictures of Usually Not Creek, remember that this is almost always a dry creek bed, it is the middle of winter, and none of this water has reached the already high Cedar Creek.
Water
Snow plus more snow plus heavy rain equals another record discharge rate for Cedar Creek. It's at 5030 cubic feet per second today. Water from our pond is flowing through the overflow for the first time since a muskrat decided to lower the pond by burrowing several new outlets. We finally sent the muskrat down the creek by using smoke bombs. The dog didn't deter him. Neither did collapsing his burrows, filling them with rocks and setting live traps.
Thursday Update: It's still rising. 5120 cubic feet per second now.
Thursday Update: It's still rising. 5120 cubic feet per second now.