Wild Country

It’s hard not to notice the waves on Lake Superior when driving north on Highway 61. Each wave that crashed against large rocks of cliffs resulted in a white plume of upward water spray. The wind and a grey overcast sky made it feel colder. “Ah, the gales of November,” I commented.
I began to think about the 50th Anniversary of the Sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald; the memorial service and activities that would take place on November 10th at Split Rock Light House. Unfortunately, I would miss them as I would be out of town. Just then, a big gust of wind pushed hard against my car. I gripped the wheel and steadied the car in my lane. “Man, it’s a windy one today.”
When I got home, I baked a batch of Ginger Cracks, my signature cookie. The warmth from the oven and the smell of cookies baking sure felt nice on a cold dreary day. That night my wife and I watched a movie, then lay in bed listening to the wind chimes singing outside. Wind rushing through the treetops always reminds me of the sound of white-water rapids. Melissa commented, “It’s really blowing out there; I hope we don’t lose any trees tonight.” I hoped not, as well. Melissa asked, “Do you think it would be okay if I sent the rest of those cookies to Uncle Kenny for his birthday?" 
“There aren’t enough cookies to make it worth the shipping,” I said, and mumbled something about making more as I dozed off.
I awoke in the middle of the night. The sky was clear, and I could see some stars, but most were washed out by the brightness of the approaching full Beaver Moon. In the moonlight I watched the trees outside dancing in the strong wind. Their motion and the chant of the wind chimes lulled me back to sleep. 
The morning brought a completely different scene. Grey skies from the previous day gave way to sunshine, and blue skies. The wind calmed and warmer temperatures moved the thermometer up to 55°. 
I had planned to make more cookies for some friends, and to send off in the mail – but I wanted to make a different cookie, maybe Snickerdoodles. I thought back to a day on our honeymoon when my wife and I discovered a very scenic trail. 
Just off the Sawbill Trail, the narrow Honeymoon Trail parallels Highway 61. The autumn colors were spectacular that day! Near the far end of the trail, we followed signs to explore a place called Wild Country Maple Syrup. 

Nestled among the maple trees of Minnesota’s north woods, Wild Country harvests, refines, and bottles maple syrup right here on the north shore. It’s a fascinating operation with a classic log building as their sales and showroom. We feel their syrup is the best. I’ve taken a real liking to their B Syrup. Don’t let the name mislead you. Wild Country B Syrup is not a lesser grade, it’s a darker more robust, grade A syrup. 
I bought a bottle of this darker syrup and went home to play in the kitchen. I adapted a recipe I call Maple Nut Cookies. It’s similar to my Ginger Crack recipe, but I replace the molasses with B maple Syrup and add chopped walnuts. It took a while to get the consistency correct, but I’ve got it dialed in now, and it’s a very good cookie.  One day, Melissa told me she liked my Maple Nut Cookies better than my Ginger Cracks. I was aghast! “But Ginger Cracks are my signature cookie.”
Melissa comforted me, patting my back saying, “It’s okay. Now you have two signature cookies.” That made me feel better. I recalled that day and decided to make Maple Nut Cookies. 
I pulled out my KitchenAid mixer, the flour, sugar and all the ingredients. Then I went to the fridge; “Uh-oh.” I checked all the cabinets for a new bottle, then began to panic a bit. “No Wild Country B Syrup?” I planned to make the cookies in time to get to the Post Office before noon, so they would go out in today’s mail. 
I called Zup’s Foods. They had the regular Wild Country Syrup, but I specifically needed the B Syrup. I called the Finland Co-op; same story. I would have to go to the Wild Country Store – 54 miles each way. 
If I didn’t waste any time, I could get there and back, bake the cookies and still make the post office before noon. I grabbed the car keys and headed to the driveway. I haven’t been there for a while, so I entered the address in the GPS.
The GPS map said to go north on Highway 61 to the Caribou Trail. I knew I could save quite a bit of time by turning off Highway 61 in Tofte, taking the Sawbill Trail to the Honeymoon Trail, and over. “You’re a genius,” I said to myself while backing out of the driveway. 
Along the way, there is a Liquor, Hardware, and Camp store in Shroeder. If they had my B Syrup, I would save a lot of time. The nice lady said, “We have the regular Wild Country Syrup, but not the B Syrup.”  No problem, it was worth checking. “You’re still a genius,” I said to myself pulling back onto Highway 61. I was good on time, but I ran into a problem.
I wasn’t counting on road construction with single-lane traffic near Tofte. Of course, I arrived just in time to hit the red light. Darn it. Those lights are always slower when you’re in a hurry. Finally, I got the green light. The construction zone ended right at Tofte General Store on the corner of 61 and Sawbill Trail. I stopped in to see if they might happen to have it. The nice cashier led to the syrup display. “It looks like we have their regular syrup and the Wild Country Bourbon Barrel Aged Maple Syrup, but northing called B Syrup.” 
“That Bourbon Barrel Aged Syrup is amazing,” I told the cashier. I thought about trying it in my cookies, but this was no time to experiment, I’ll try it in a future batch. I turned onto the Sawbill trail and checked my clock. These extra stops were costing valuable time, but I could still make it. “You’re still a genius,” I told myself and drove ten miles north and then turned right onto the Honeymoon trail. 
The Honeymoon Trail is still a pretty drive, but most of the fall colors have blown down, especially with the high winds yesterday. About four miles into the trail, I ran into a snag. The high winds also dropped a sizeable spruce tree across the road; it was way too big to attempt moving it by hand and I didn’t have a chain saw in my pocket. “Way to go genius,” I cursed, not planning on the road being blocked. I was too far into this journey to return home empty handed. 
Honeymoon Trail was exceptionally narrow at this point. I was not going to drive the car in reverse for four miles, so I managed a five or six-point turn to begin maneuvering my way back to highway 61. The blocked trail added 28 miles to my trip, and I was no longer going to make the post office. Still, I laughed about a thought.
Maybe I should send the cookie dough unbaked with a note: ‘Some assembly required.’ Naw. Even unbaked, I still wouldn’t make the Post Office before noon. I drove several miles on Highway 61 to the Caribou Trail. “There better not be anymore down trees.” Eventually, I turned onto the east end of the Honeymoon Trail. Soon, I was driving down the long lane that leads to Wild Country Syrup. I was almost there. 
“There’s no way,” I said out loud as I stopped the car. A large tree was laying across the lane! It must have blown down in the high winds yesterday. The tree was way too big to attempt moving it by hand and I still didn’t have a chain saw in my pocket. “Darn it.”
The GPS said I was 3/10 miles from my destination: the Wild Country Maple Syrup store. It was an amazingly beautiful autumn day, especially for early November in northern Minnesota. I got out of the car and started walking in my short-sleeved shirt. I didn’t come this far to go home empty handed. 
Maybe I was turning goofy after all the events of the day. I was talking to myself, but the crazy part is that I was also answering. I laughed as I held my thumb up in the air. “What are you doing,” I asked. “I’m hitch hiking,” I answered. “What for? There’s no traffic out here, the road is blocked,” I said. “You never know, a car might come by. I’m going to be prepared,” I replied. We both shared a good laugh about that as we walked on.
In the showroom, I looked around at the shelves. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said. There were plenty of glass bottles of the regular Wild Country Syrup, but no plastic jugs of the B Syrup. The shelf was marked B Syrup, but the bottles all looked the same. 
“Wait a minute, what’s this?” Some of the bottles had a little label on them, different from the regular syrup. ‘United States Maple Syrup. Grade A Dark Color, Robust Taste.’ I held the two bottles up to the light in the window, one was clearly darker. “This is it! This is the B Syrup! Glory Hallelujah!” I laughed deliriously. It took a lot of effort, but I finally had what I’d set out for.
I was so thrilled that I did a little celebration dance right there in the showroom! They must have changed the labeling so people wouldn’t think B Syrup meant b grade. I slid my money into the lockbox, and started back to the car. I hadn’t gone far when I turned around and went back into the store. I picked up a bottle of their newest product: Bourbon & Wine Barrel Aged Maple Syrup. “As long as I’m here, I just might make pancakes for supper tonight.”
The trip home was uneventful. I baked my Maple Nut cookies, then cleaned the kitchen. When Melissa got home, I asked, “How was your day?”
“Very Busy,” she said. “But I finished up a big project, so I’m really happy about that. How was your day,” she asked. “Did anything exciting happen?”
“Not really,” I said. “I made some Maple Nut cookies, but I didn’t have any B Syrup. Nobody around here had it in stock, so I drove to the Wild Country Store. I put together a package of cookies, with the card for your uncle. Can you drop it off at the Post Office in the morning?”
“Sure,” Melissa said. “I appreciate you doing that for me.” She went to the counter and took a cookie from the jar. “These are so good,” she said after the first bite. “This might be your best batch yet.” 
I just smiled, thinking, “They better be!” Wild Country Maple Syrup: it’s worth the effort to get the best.