Fond du Lac Follies


I really like winter. The cold and the

snow stay outside my little HUD house. I especially like the tree

shadows on the snow, the gravity defying clumps of snow that hang

onto the pine branches, the cold wind that reminds me I should have

put on one more layer.

I hear people complaining that this

winter has gone on too long, they want to see spring. I just ignore

them and enjoy what we have.

Very soon we shall begin our sugar

bush. We have plenty of firewood. and we found a new source for the

gallon milk jugs we use. My son Joe is showing his son Joe how to

carve taps.

Another seasonal cycle for these

Anishinaabeg will begin soon.


Along with my brother Vern and sister

Korey, Fond du Lac Follies motored to Colorado. I had a meeting with

my editor Rebecca in Golden, Colorado. According to my Google map it

was 1,100 miles away. The drive was supposed to take 14 hours and it

was freeway all the way.

I decided to take Black Lightning, the

Ford F150 Lariat, the bank and I own.

It was zero dark thirty when we left,

headed south using the Sawyer shortcut to get to the freeway. We

popped out at the I-35 on ramp in Barnum, Minnesota and the road trip


As we were nearing Pine City we came

upon a pack of wolves eating a car killed deer. I counted seven of

the beautiful creatures. They were large and lithe and looked like

they could easily hunt down a wolf hunter. I left my brothers some


We continued south until we got to Des

Moines, Iowa where we turned and headed west on I-80. I later learned

Des Moines is now becoming a war zone because the Air Guard jets are

being replaced by drones. The 132nd Fighter Wing is now becoming the

132nd Attack Wing. The things one learns when traveling cross country

are amazing.

We continued west and began seeing

sand hill cranes gathered in the corn fields of Nebraska. I have

never seen so many cranes in such large numbers. I learned Nebraska’s

topography becomes very boring. It seemed like a very wide state and

we spent a long time wishing to see Colorado. During one little stop

we looked at a Pony Express station that was actually used in the old

days. I think they used horses because those little blue and white

trucks were not invented yet. This was not the actual location, the

old cabin was moved to make it easier for the tourists to visit.

We got off I-80 and took the freeway

to Denver . We found Golden, Colorado, our destination. We set up

camp in a motel and slept like we were dead. After breakfast I found

Fulcrum Publishing and again met Rebecca McEwen, the editor. She was

prepared and we went to work on editing Dirty Copper, this piece of

fiction will be out in June. We had both went through the manuscript

and had marked up our corrections before. It took us about seven

hours to do the final edit.

Once we were done, Vern, Korey and I

became tourists. We went up Lookout Mountain west of town. People on

bicycles and skateboards were also going up and down the mountain.

The road was paved all the way to the top, it was quite narrow with

one side dropping thousands of feet to the bottom. On the way up we

could see signs saying Bullalo Bill’s grave was at the top. When we

got to the top, Vern ordered food, Korey went shopping. Vern went up

to the gravesite and I left a huge tribute to Buffalo Bill when I

visited the Men’s room. I thanked him for giving us Grand Entries. We

came down that curvy mountain road. A skateboarder came by me on the

left side going very fast, he got in front of me. I thought I had

given birth to a white guy skateboarder as he disappeared around the


We slept, ate, and were on our way

home. Vern was driving on I-80, it was just beginning to snow. I

suggested he slow down a bit, just then we came over a rise and saw

semis and cars scattered around the traffic lanes and ditches I

counted three jackknifed semis and maybe 15 cars. There were also

many emergency vehicles parked adding to the confusion. We continued

on and got on I-35 and turned north. Along the way we helped a young

couple who slid off the road and ended up on their side. Vern helped

them out while I called 911, fortunately I knew the number. We

arrived home safe.


The views expressed in this column

belong to the writer alone, they are not meant to represent Vern or

Korey, Fulcrum Publishing, this newspaper, this Reservation or anyone

else. Comments and bingo boards can be sent to FdL Follies, PO Box

16, Sawyer, MN 55780, email:, Facebook too.