A Night Memory

The writing assignment was to write a joyful memory of night. Joyful is not the right word for my story, but it is an unforgettable night memory…

It was a dark and stormy night (in 2014)…  

We had a delayed start to our day, as we headed north to our vacation destination: Zongoene Lodge, a beautiful resort on the Indian Ocean in Mozambique, Africa. The hired drivers of a 15-passenger van were late to arrive at our apartment.

Our 2 1/2 month old granddaughter, in 2014.

When the driver’s arrived, seven family members filed into the rented van, with everyone’s luggage. Our son, his wife and 2 1/2 month old daughter, and Gary and I, piled into our son’s car. Finally, we were on our way. We drove out of the city on a good four-lane highway. After a couple of hours, we turned off the highway and started driving down a muddy, dirt road that had been washed out by all the rain from the previous night. 

Our resort was still 35 kilometers away (22 miles). As we drove further into the countryside, the road got muddier, the puddles got deeper, and the ride got bumpier. The road was rugged, full of ruts and major pot holes, with large standing mini-lakes and water flowing over the road. You couldn’t see the potholes through the mud puddles. 

By now the sun was setting, and it had started to rain. 

Looking out over a few flooded areas towards our resort and the Indian Ocean. (2014)

Tim and Gary were in the front seat of our son’s car, Baby Zoey was strapped in her car seat in back with Andrea and me. The van, with the two hired drivers, and seven others from our party were behind us. The road kept getting worse. At one point, about 14 km in, our car slid down a steep hill and almost toppled over, but we made it to the bottom and stopped along side the road. We waited for the van, and watched it slide down the hill. I was praying it would reach the bottom without tipping over. 

Once the van stopped, the angry drivers got out and said they would go no further. One said he had not been told the road would be so undriveable. But how could we have known the rains would cause such a mess?

Now that we were all stopped, it was obvious nobody was going to go any farther without help. But how? We were in the middle of nowhere, at night, in Mozambique Africa – a dark sky, made darker with clouds, and no traffic or traffic lights or city lights within miles and miles of where we were stranded…with a 2 ½ month old baby! Hmmm…I said to Andrea…”it will be interesting to see how God gets us out of this mess.” 

Well, unbelievably, Tim’s cell phone worked. He was able to call the lodge. The manager rounded up two four-wheel drive vehicles (one belonged to a guest of the lodge) and they came to rescue us.

We waited over an hour when we finally saw headlights coming our way. The manager of the resort was in one of the vehicles. We transferred our luggage and rearranged the twelve of us into three vehicles. Once everyone and our luggage was out of the van, the van drivers stepped on the accelerator, spun their tires in the mud, turned the van around and sped away…madder than a hornet’s nest (after demanding more money.) They drove back up the hill (unbelievably they made it) and headed back to the city, while we headed to the resort, another ten miles down the dark, flooded, washed-out dirt road. We had all been dispersed into different vehicles with strangers, in the middle of nowhere, trusting we would all end up in the same place in a short while. 

Grandma, Avó (Portuguese for grandma) and baby Zoey in 2014.

The resort owner drove Tim’s car, since he knew the road and could maneuver the dangerous spots. He led the way. Dan, Tim’s friend, was a good sport. He ended up in the bed of a pickup truck bouncing all the way back… in the rain! Finally, we all made it to the resort at midnight, after a very scary ride. We all let out a sigh of relief and a praise to God. 

The staff had been waiting for us to arrive and had prepared a special drink to toast us as we walked into the lobby of Zongoene Lodge. A toast to our safe arrival, a toast to welcome us, and a toast to a night none of us would ever forget!

Bike Trails and Fire Towers

We like to getaway and ride different bike trails. There are so many to choose from. This year we went to Pequot Lakes in northern Minnesota. Our first stop was in Crosby, Minnesota to ride our bicycles on the Cuyuna Trail System. These trails are well-known for mountain biking, but there is a nice paved trail to ride also.

Huntington Mine Lake is along one of the Cuyuna Trails.

The trail goes past old iron ore mine pits, which are now beautiful lakes, with no development on them. The mountain bike trails go through the woods, and a bicycle with special tires is needed. The mountain bike paths are red dirt, from the iron in the soil. 

A photo of our group at Huntington Mine Lake.

After our trail ride we continued to drive north to Pequot Lakes, our destination. We planned to ride our bikes the next day on the Paul Bunyan trail, one of the longest bike trails in the state. The Paul Bunyan Trail used to be the Burlington-Northern railway tracks.

At the Paul Bunyan trailhead in Pequot Lakes.

We rode a small portion of the trail. The weather was hot and humid, but the portion of the trail we rode was shaded and scenic, with surrounding lakes. We’re grateful for the many wonderful trails that have been created on old railway lines.

Above the tree line on the fire tower in Pequot Lakes. I’m in the red shirt.

The third morning we decided to hike in Paul M. Theide Fire Tower Park. The DNR recently acquired this land to create this park to protect the historic fire tower there. The small park is lovely with a nice picnic pavilion and a few trails that lead to the fire tower. The tower, built in 1935, is accessible to climb if one is so inclined. I learned this is the second tower to be built on this site. The first was a wooden structure built in 1927. The current tower is in excellent shape (no carvings in the wooden steps). I climbed up four flights (of eight) and was already above the tree line and could see for miles. Unfortunately, I left my camera down at the bottom.

Climbing up the historic fire tower.

Climbing the tower brought back memories of vacationing with my parents and friends in cabins on Rainy Lake in the 1960’s. There was a fire tower within walking distance of the resort where we stayed. We would climb the tower every year, several times during the week. I do remember some of us kids carving our names in the wooden steps. Whoops. 

Several years later we went up to see the resort at the end of the road, Highway 11 East out of International Falls, and the fire tower was fenced in and locked up. I learned it’s called the Black Bay Fire Tower, or Rainy Lake Fire Tower, and it was built in 1939. I couldn’t find much more information online about this tower. 

The historic fire tower in Paul M. Thiede park.

There is another accessible fire tower in Itasca State Park which we have climbed a few times; once with our two sons when they were younger, and a few times over the years when we’ve camped in the state park. 

A few dozen fire towers remain in Minnesota. At one time there were 120-150 in the early to mid 1900’s. At that time there were about 5,000 fire towers throughout the United States. A majority of the “second generation” fire towers were built by the CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) in the 1930’s. These towers were built of galvanized steel and included steps. Earlier towers were made of wood and used ladders to access the cab. As airplanes and modern technology took over the task of spotting wildfires, many towers were taken out of service.

I’m grateful for organizations that have insight and resources to re-purpose railway lines and preserve fire towers.

A beautiful hibiscus bloom on the hotel patio.