You may not find this terribly rewarding unless you're included here, so this is a good time for casual and random browsers to turn back before they get too caught up in the sweep and majesty of the proceedings and can't let go.
A few more scenes from the lake, with cats, ducks, eagles, and two loons
Suspicious movement near the dock, 21 July 2019
It's the Goose Family passing through
The Battle of the Early Morning Kitchen
A temporary truce
A familiar figure on the centre island
An adult eagle on the lookout, 24 July 2019, on Adjidaumo (see map below)
This is a southern shoreline feature where for centuries winter ice on the lake has been pushed ashore by the north winds and has stacked detritus up in a long barrier in front of the original shore.
There have been reports of a loons' nest spotted on Baby Leigh island, and we're trying to spot it without coming close enough to frighten anybody (26 July 2019).
Supposedly it's right round the base of that tree somewhere.
We're not seeing it. It's significant because apparently there hasn't been a baby loon on the lake for some years.
The island (with its ancient 'No Camping' sign, posted by the state) reminds us of a passing pirate ship.
A mallard duck -- where there's one, there are also more. Hiding among the dying tag alders along the shore.
And there they are.
We're hanging out waiting for Cousin Rob to return from some meeting or other and join us on the hydrobikes (27 July 2019).
'No Wake' through the channel leading off to one of the back bays
From Rob's little bay, that's a stretch of terra firma separating it from the main lake.
A very patriotic pontoon boat coming slowly ('No Wake') through between the points to the back bay
We'll land the hydrobike if we can navigate through all the old dead trees.
Not all of these are fallen trees, we've been told; some are logs dropped off during the old logging days on the lake.
After a mucky slosh over the last few feet to the shore, we're on the point of land protruding out to the channel to the back bay.
The view up the lake, towards Mussent Point at the far end, 2 kilometres to the north
The shoreline of the main lake
This is as far out the point as we're going to get without lots of tick bites.
Back to the hydrobike that's wedged into the dead-leafy muck
Another pontoon boat heading into the back bay, sporting hydrobikes and at least one kayak
Oh yuck. Leafy mud to mid-calf. Who knows what vile and slimy creatures might be hiding down there?
Cousin Rob's dock from the main lake
More storm damage overnight, 29 July 2019 . . .
. . . and a rental chainsaw ready to swing into action. Well, not 'swing'.
Choupette's first fallen tree limb
Busted. We know all of Melvin's hiding places by now.
Brother-in-law Eric swings into action (well, not 'swings').
Towards the southern end of the lake, we're off the hydrobike for a short paddle on a very hot afternoon.
We like to think of it as swimming, but after all these years, it's paddling.
An odd vehicle putt-putting in towards the public landing in the late afternoon (29 July)
Whatever it is, its work is not finished -- the young gentleman is tying it up for the night.
The dock at Mussent Point, prepared for a pontoon boat ride
Follow-up on our wounded oak tree -- the professionals appear on the scene.
He's marching up the tree with a jumar but with no crampons or spikes on his boots, apparently to avoid poking damaging holes in the tree.
The idea is evidently to paint the damaged place from which the tree limb broke off, to prevent the dreaded oak wilt disease, common in this region.
Mussent Point from the north; we're idling about waiting for Cousin Rob to complete his harvesting of chanterelle mushrooms on the adjacent property (with permission) (30 July 2019).
The little swampy bay or cove just north of Mussent Point (it's a real mess in there)(it'll eat your propeller)
The boathouse at Mussent Point (we're still waiting for Cousin Rob and his mushrooms)
The boathouse and Kristin's cottage
Cousin Rob and his little bag of chanterelles (for Elke's superb pasta dinner two evenings hence; we consider the wasted time idling about to be an 'investment')
Ah, it's a piledriver for a new dock.
The crane lifts the strange device and the man on the dock positions it onto the pile, then the device hammers the pile down, a good whack on it per second. (It can't be straightforward, though, because the strange vehicle has been coursing slowly up and down the length of the lake for the past three or four days.)
Our magisterial eagle on his usual perch on Adjidaumo, the central island
The higher of the two eagles' nests, with a young'un keeping vigil
It must be rather a boring life, squatting up there for hours, waiting for a naive fish to wander by below.
Two family cats getting along together fairly well (31 July 2019). That's at 4 a.m.
And that's at 5 a.m.
Two loons conversing, over by Sandy Beach
One of them in a fit of youthful exuberance
Preparing for another 1-minute's dive. There's no sign of a baby loon, but there's some slight suggestion that they may have been luring us away from a nest over on the shore. Perhaps time will tell.
The Lake in the Wisconsin Northwoods
Mussent Point is at no. 12.