Winter Excursion 2 (Electric Boogaloo) p. 50

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Palisade Head

We arrived at the park in the afternoon sometime.
Here is a picture of the beginning of our palisade head trek:

The trail was covered with ice and as you can see, Michael had to concentrate on getting his footing just right to make it up the icy hill:

success!

Of course, with success comes cockiness; running up the icy hill.

Now, here is a picture of a rock:

And here is that same rock from a slightly different angle:

(the rock didn't expect me to take these photos,
they were 100% candid shots...hilarious!)

Anyway, below is the Eiffel Tower of the North Shore. It's just a radio tower. But it juts up above everything else so i figure it must be appreciated for some aesthetic reason, otherwise, what the fuck is it doing here?

Below are a few photos of the shore line.

more shoreline:

more shoreline:

This next one was a tricky photo to take.
I had to time it just right, right at the moment when the water hadn't yet caught up with the tilt of the spinning planet:

I have to say i really like the following photo.
I used it as wallpaper for my desktop for a while.
(I always say a really pretty picture can always use a few Windows icons
to make it even more pretty):

Lo and behold, Michael has found a treasure. A real honest to goodness Palisade Head treasure right here in front of us.

A tasty treasure!

Lucky? yes we were very lucky to stumble upon this find. But get this, there's more where THAT came from my friends. LOTS more:

We wouldn't have noticed the rest
had it not been for a most fortunate trail,
much like the yellow brick road in the Wizard of Oz,
except this one was made of blood, guts, and fur:

Clint?

Nope, just more majestic wildlife -
a "treasure" of North Woods beauty is what it is:

And of course mike performs the obligatory ritual again.
We've decided it pleases the gods.
The more we do it, the more spectacular wildlife is sent our way.

And here we can see the graceful deer from another angle:

He certainly looks at peace doesn't he?
We named him Patrick, in honor of the man who couldn't be here.

Of course our new friend reminded us so much of Pat that
we got to wondering what he was doing.

Mike decided to call him on his cell:

"Hiya Patty", says Mike, "I miss you, i wuvs you, i can't live wiffout you..."

So the conversation goes. Anyway, turns out Pat was at a Shopping Mall when Mike called. We told him that we would hoist a log over the cliff in his honor, that there was a log with "his name on it" somewhere in the woods here.

After many tears, Mike finally got off the phone and we headed to the cliffs to perform a true celebration of birch - the ultimate bell-beaker, palisade head, winter excursion tradition.

And here are those infamous palisade cliffs:

"Palisade" by the way, means "fence or wall" which refers to the natural barrier of these cliffs - they help keep out the dirty/stinky Wisconsinites to the east, and the ungodly, communist Canadians to the north.

Here's a picture of the cliff looking down on it.

And here is a picture of me looking down on it.
Contrary to what you are probably thinking, i didn't jump.

Here is a very very good picture of me. Fuck you if you think different.

So there you have it. That is the cliff.
Now for some real fun...

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I now present you with,

A Celebration of Birch:
kickin' it old school with a cherished bronze age ritual.

Now it's time to throw some logs off the cliff.

Here comes mike with his first find.

Now that is a handsome looking log.
Notice how straight and thick this particular birch is.
That's the kind of log you wanna get.
It's a fine birch if i say so myself.

Now, off the cliff it goes:

Where'd it go?
It's GONE.

That particular birch was pulverized on the rocks below.
Good job mike.

Now for another:

Now i want you to pay attention to that form.
notice how far apart his feet are and the 90 degree angle of his elbows.

Mike is a true master.

Look at the imprint of that one down on the rocks below.

You'd think that would be enough for mike. On the contrary.
Mike is eternally vigilant in his pursuit of good, cliff-hurling, birch.

Check out this magnificent birch!

Patrick, if you're reading this, THIS ONE'S FOR YOU BUDDY!!!

In case you can't read it. It says "PAT"

Here, mike is about to toss pat's log over the cliff
(you can still see the name if you look very closely):

There it goes...

Now it's my turn.
Naturally, mike hands me an ugly, meager looking birch
to hurl for my first attempt.

But as you can see, i am still very proud to hold it in my hands.

And there it goes...

Mike cannot resist just one more:

Heave...

...Ho!

After all this heaving and ho-ing Mike is flush with satisfaction
in what we had just accomplished there on those Palisade Head cliffs.

He recalls for me the very first time he participated in this event.
Good memories. Good memories.

Anyway, after much admiration at the results of our work that day,
and after much meditation and reflection
on the true meaning of this celebration,
Mike put his gloves back on
to signal a the end of a great proud tradition
that few will ever experience.

We headed back to the car.
I took a few pictures of the radio tower again:

And there are those cliffs again.
One last look back upon all that from which we tossed
many a heafty log over that day.
I will never forget those logs.

The whole experience of performing in this sacred rite left me with a feeling of gratitude and welling sense of obligation to give back. So in commemoration of "A Celebration Of Birch" i created a "postcard" - an official "Celebration of Birch" postcard, to herald this esoteric tradition to those who may not yet know of it's existence, much less is importance or significance.

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