How Was Your Summer?

Since I returned to Tucson, the number one question I’ve been asked is, of course, “How was your summer?” Even though my high school student is practically at first quarter midterm, summer is still very much in progress for our family, and half my brain remains in the woods at a resort that’s in full swing.

I’m still on central time, which is why I’m typing this at 4am, and responding to emails to keep up with the paperwork.  So trust, it’s hard to answer the question “How was your summer?” in the past tense.

It’s the same every year during the last month of summer— when my husband and I perform a tag-team operation holding down forts in two states, which is a choice we made some 17 years ago. Yes, it’s complicated. No, it’s not easy. But I’m not complaining. We are blessed and we know it. And we’re proud of ourselves for making this work.

Sometimes I wonder, would I do it again? 

Scoff. That’s a stupid question.

Meantime, when I do answer the “How was your summer?” question beyond a “it was fine, how was yours?” response, the first word that comes to mind is “destructive.”

The resort experiences a lot of wear-and-tear each summer, but this season it seemed concentrated. And I’ve got the pictures to prove it. Here’s just a few:

Cookie sheet used over camp fire?

Hit by a school bus bringing in campers

20-somethings idea of washing the dishes

Stovetop burnerplate

Paddleboat graveyard

Ripped RAVE trampoline--destroyed

One week of garbage for a 2-bedroom/4-person unit

Destructive. Need I say more?

Feature & Follow Friday: Your Favorite Summer Reading Spot?

Feature and Follow Friday is a blog hop designed to provide exposure to the bloggers participating and to expand their following. Hosted by Parajunkee and Alison Can Read, each features a chosen blog for the week. Click on their links to see this Friday’s features. MEET NEW FRIENDS!

Question of the Week: Summer Break is upon us! What would be the perfect vacation spot for you to catch up on your reading & relax?

My Answer: Easy. I have only ONE CHOICE--actually, ONE OPTION--for a place to go for summer reading:

SANDY POINT RESORT in the NORTHWOODS of WISCONSIN. Day and night, my favorite place on the planet. The icing on this cake is . . . I own the joint.

It’s Not Getting Easier

Twenty Years. The traditional symbols for 20-year wedding anniversaries are china and platinum. The gemstone is emerald, the flower is day lily.

We, however, are not celebrating 20 years of marriage. We passed that marker in 2009. We are celebrating 20 years of owning/ operating our business, Sandy Point Resort and Disc Golf Ranch. So, using the traditional symbols, perhaps it might be appropriate to take a china plate and throw it like a Frisbee toward a disc golf basket made of platinum. We could do it in the midst of a full-growth, emerald green summer shortly after the day lilies all around the property are in full bloom.

In spite of our 20 years at Sandy Point, we’ve only been going back-and-forth between the Northwoods and the desert for 15 years. We started this yo-yo lifestyle when expecting our youngest daughter, Camille, who will celebrate her 15^th birthday this summer. When she and her sister, Willow, were babies we definitely had an ideal plan for the ideal lifestyle. Yes, we moved twice per year; however, we had a solid six months in each location.

That was a time when people said we had “the best of both worlds,” and we nodded our heads in agreement. Now we nod our heads and grimace. How naïve were we to believe going back-and-forth would get easier instead of more difficult?

Let me illustrate just two items putting a damper on our best-of-both worlds scenario these days:

#1. Airlines are a business suffering in this economy like any other. We currently cannot find flights from Tucson to Rhinelander (45 minutes from our resort). The closest we could get at Christmas was Minneapolis/St. Paul (four hours from our resort). This May we can get to the Central Wisconsin Airport, which is an hour-and-a-half drive. We used to get flights for $300-something. Now they’re more like $700-something. Multiply that times three, and then figure the astronomical cost of gas for Mike to drive back three weeks ahead of us. Ouch.

#2. The Tucson Unified School District recently informed the community that the 2012-13 school year would begin on AUGUST 2. Smack dab in the middle of a Sonoran summer, our kids will be plucked from their Wisconsin lake-home paradise and dropped into the scorching desert to cut short their much-needed (and well-deserved) summer vacation. And we will lose 50% of our cleaning staff while facing an entire month of a full house at the resort. Mom and Pop can’t leave the mom-and-pop operation, so, I’m currently wondering, who is going to take care of our kids in Tucson while we’re trying to keep the business going?

Yes, indeed, it’s the best of both worlds. What an AWESOME plan we had 15 years ago. Even then, I don’t think anyone told us it would be easy. But I honestly didn’t believe it would get this hard.

Summer Saturday Survival

It’s known as “turnaround day” here at Sandy Point Resort. Cabin renters checkout by nine in the morning, and we have guest-free grounds until 4pm, which is when the new weekly renters show up. It’s the most peaceful AND the most hectic period of the week.

Today’s turnaround went smoothly. We managed to get a jumpstart on two of our cabins, which we cleaned on Friday evening. The guests, who had young children, wanted to get on the road early to beat a forecasted storm, and make it back to their homes with a full weekend ahead of them to return to normalcy on Monday morning. And while we were sad to see them leave, we silently thanked them for giving us a leg up on our turnaround.

We also said goodbye today to two sets of personal houseguests—my nephew (a former whipping boy) and his girlfriend, and our dear, dear friends, The Rumbles. Johnny Rumble, aka John Pecunia, and his beautiful wife, Melissa, come each summer along with their adorable sons, Andrew and Nick. They couldn’t be more courteous, enjoyable guests and are helpful around resort. Johnny is like an ambassador—always getting to know all the guests on property. A noted professional disc golfer, this week he even took time to give lessons to a family from Madison. Imagine their THRILL when he drilled an ACE on hole 22!

This morning Melissa was up before my daughters—the actual cleaning staff—and helped do the heavy cleaning in each of the cabins. Her laugh is infectious and it gave us time to share (in person) stories and concerns that we normally can only relay by email. I forgot I was working because being with her was like working out with a friend.

Meanwhile, Johnny—who never ceased to entertain us by promising (among other things) to dance after dark—installed two ceiling fans and shared his tools with me all morning. Mike has always said Johnny is his hero, but no one is a bigger fan of Juan Carlos than I. Well, perhaps my admiration falls in line some place after Mel‘s and the boys’ (!)

So it was with a heavy heart that we said goodbye and thus began the 365-day countdown until their return to Sandy Point. We do have a few things planned in the near future, including their taking care of Willow’s soccer camp pick-up, Johnny’s return to the Northwoods Open and hopefully a spring trip out to Arizona. Whatever our future holds, we will look forward to it, enjoy it while it happens and feel sad when it comes to an end. All of it will come . . . and go . . . and come . . . and go.

Such is the revolving door that defines summer Saturdays at Sandy Point Resort.

Lac du Flambeau Gets a Clue

You don’t see THIS everyday in your morning crossword puzzle:

3. _____ du Flambeau, Wisc.

In all my years of doing puzzles, I’ve seen _____ du Lac, Wisc. about a hundred times and it never got me excited. Today, however, seeing a clue for our little remote corner of the Northwoods—home to the Lake Superior Band of Ojibwe Indians and Sandy Point Resort and Disc Golf Ranch—in the USA Today puzzle, gave me a bigger rush than a double dose of cappuccino.

Sandy Point Resort is outside the town limits of Lac du Flambeau, but it does carry a “Flambeau” mailing address. The town itself is located in Vilas County and is comprised of approx. 128 square miles, 260 lakes, 65 miles of lakes, streams and rivers and 24,000 acres of wetlands. People population at the last census was 3000. I can’t say what the fish population is; however, I can report that according to the Lac du Flambeau Chamber of Commerce, the world’s largest sturgeon came out of Lake Pokegama and is currently housed in a Lac du Flambeau museum. This monster measured 7 feet, 1 inch, weighed 195 pounds and 40 inches around.

That’s quite a catch. And this clue was a great piece of bait. I filled in every square of the crossword in record time.

If It’s Tuesday, It Must Be Turquoise

I did a Tuesday show once in Wisconsin where my jewelry was on display. It was one of the rare shows that wasn’t juried, and as a result there wasn’t a lot of high-quality artisans selling their creations. I believe the venue was called Crazy Days, and my beautiful jewelry didn’t fit in.

Crazy Days are like Flea Markets. Shoppers come looking for a bargain. And even though my handmade, one-of-a-kind pieces were and are very reasonably priced, I had to endure watching overweight tourists waddle by while munching on soft pretzels and Minocqua Fudge. Some stopped in, bringing their lit smokes with them. Occasionally one would toss a bracelet back onto my display table and say something like, “Hrumph! I could make this for a dollar.”

I don’t think they could have even made the junk food staining their Green Bay Packer sweatshirts for a dollar. But hey, at least they took a moment to enter my street tent and give the products a look.

That’s more than I can say about one pair of old ladies with beehive hairdos, red lips and rhinestone glasses. Shuffling by with scowls on their faces, one of them spotted my sign advertising TURQUOISE JEWELRY FOR SALE.

“I HATE turquoise,” said one.

“Me too,” agreed the other. And then they waved their hands at me as if to tell me to get lost, and shuffled on, only to criticize the next vendor.

How could anyone hate turquoise?

Why I'm No Longer a Disc Golf Tournament Director

Mike is a fantastic tournament director. He’s been running disc golf tournaments for some 25 years and they’ve ranged in size from a few people to hundreds. His ability to run a smooth, fun event is one of the reasons why the Northwoods Open is arguably the most popular disc golf event in the state of Wisconsin. He credits all the support he gets from the disc golf community, which includes a staff of experienced tournament directors and statisticians; however, I happen to know his success comes not only from his experience, but also from his personality.

First of all, he’s a golfer and has been since 1974. He loves the sport, loves the discs, and loves most of the people who play. He’s got a strong voice, with stock-market-trained diaphragm projection, and he has created an amazing 27-hole course, literally carved out of the forest. Maintaining it is a top priority. It’s impossible not to notice all the thought and care that goes into the course at Sandy Point Disc Golf Ranch.

Also, he gives everyone who participates in the Northwoods Open a player package, Pros and Ams alike.

 

THE SUBJECT OF PRO PLAYERS vs. Amateur players came up today in a phone conversation I had with a person who called to ask about the tournament. He wanted to participate, but hasn’t had any tournament experience—even though he insisted he and “his partner” were phenomenal players. I suggest he enter the “Intermediate” Division for men, as it’s the competitive division for players just getting started with PDGA competition. The entry fee for this division is $35, which is $70 less than the Open Pro Division. Also, because this is a PDGA-sanctioned event and players must be current dues-paying members to participate (or in the case of amateur and recreational divisions, pay a PDGA tax of $10), his total fee would be $45 for two days of competition.

After asking several questions about the format, scoring, the check-in procedure (which would be “impossible” for him because he works two jobs—blah-blah-blah—) he wanted to know about payout.

“Now, I don’t mean to be modest (?), dear, but I noticed there’s nothing on your website about payout,” he said.

“Well that’s because we have no way of knowing what the payout will be until we have a final figure on the number of competitors. But the payout will be in line for the requirements of a PDGA A-tier event for the pros and B-tier event for the amateurs.”

“What kind of cash are we talking?”

“Amateurs don’t receive cash awards in PDGA events. It would compromise their amateur status. Instead they receive merchandise vouchers that are redeemable in our pro shop.”



“Well, that’s not right,” he said.


 

What came out of his mouth next was a combination of an incredulous reaction to this ridiculous practice, and a lecture of how it wasn’t right to contribute $45 to an event and expect to get no cash in return.  “Let me put it to you this way, dear, how would you like to go to a competition, pay for it, win it and get nothing but a voucher in return?”


Sigh. I looked at the clock and remained calm. “If you want to play for money," I said, “then you should play in the Open Pro Division.” I wanted to add: “But it’ll cost you even more, DEAR!” But I didn't.

As he blathered on with his complaints and his lecture, my cell phone rang with my husband’s personalized urgent-sounding ring, and I knew I had to end my call with the incredulous lecturer disguising himself as a disc golfer. I had already spent far too much time explaining things like foursomes, saying your score out loud after each hole, turning in your card and being responsible for the math. . . . 

I’m happy to take entry fees over the phone and give lodging and local campground information, but I can’t conduct a player’s meeting on my dime when my other phone is ringing and I have a list of five other calls to return.



“I can’t have this conversation,” I said. “I have to go.” CLICK.




 

ANY SEASONED TOURNAMENT DIRECTOR will tell you that there can be 200 wonderful people participating in a tournament, who help make the experience fun and exciting. But he’ll also tell you that there’s ALWAYS one a$$hole, who threatens to mar your positive efforts.

The trick is to not let him get to you. 

Mike learned that a long time ago. I, on the other hand, crave an a$$hole-free existence and simply won’t tolerate a bully on any front. (Especially one that calls me “Dear” in every sentence he utters). This is why I’ll be back in Tucson during the 15th Annual Northwoods Open and Mike will be here, running what I’m sure will be another highly successful disc golf tournament.

Best of luck to all the great players who grace our Northwoods home each year. Have fun, and remember to LOOK UP!

Piper in the Pro Shop

Musician, Dave Graham, Illinois resident and Sandy Point guest for the past seven summers, treated the resort today with his bagpipe show. Decked in a jaunty Scottish tam, this year he left the kilt behind and first played at the beach, where it was a bit windy. He brought the pipes up to the cabin area and when he played, a large group of disc golfers stopped in their tracks, held onto their discs for a moment and listened. Soon, putting practice took on a ceremonial feel.

Friday is always a busy day on the course and today was no exception. So, Dave brought his pipes into the pro shop and gave me a personal performance. "It's going to be a lot louder in here than it is outside," he warned as he stepped inside and filled his lungs with air and his pipes with music.

It was a true treat from one of the nicest guests we are lucky enough to see each summer at Sandy Point. Dave is also known as Dave "Catfish" Graham. He is a member of The Salt Creek Boys, probably best described as a folk rock band, and regularly performs in venues around the Chicago area. He not only plays the bagpipes, but also guitar and dulcimer. For more information about the Salt Creek Boys, visit their website at: www.saltcreekboys.com. Meanwhile, check out the Pro Shop Performance:

The Business Needs Some Botox

We have highway road arrows leading to our business, Sandy Point Resort. They are at least 15 years old. Sporting black and white paint wrinkles and withered lettering, they’ve aged more than I—at least physically. Today, I decided, they needed a few shots of Botox.

We have two sets of road arrows steering State Hwy. 70 traffic to our resort and disc golf course—those facing east and those facing west. Over the years they’ve attracted a phenomenal amount of business. Almost daily during our high season we have wayward travelers coming into the pro shop asking everything from “where’s the DISCOUNT golf course” to “what’s DISCO golf?” Also, on a weekly basis, we find enthusiastic disc golfers at our door, who “never knew” there was a course here and couldn’t believe it when they saw our arrows.

Pretty important signage, don’t you think?


Mike and I made the six-foot arrows ourselves. He sawed the wood and I painted the white background, cut out and traced the letters from type I printed from the computer, and hand-painted with black enamel paint and a very steady hand. Mike would have hung them if the Wisconsin Department of Transportation had allowed it, but mere mortal men aren’t allowed to hang highway signs.

The government required we drive the arrows about 30 miles away to the nearest county hub, drop them off, and have professionals put them in place. It took weeks. But back then, when we lived here year round, we could afford the time. Perhaps it’s not surprising that we didn’t enlist government help for the cosmetic surgery required today.

I woke up this morning knowing today was the day. The sun was shining, all our cabins were clean and ready for the guests, and it was a designated maintenance day. I drove to the arrow site, less than a mile from our house, parked, and painted the west-facing arrows on site. Using a ladder to reach them and sporting what my teenager called “MOM JEANS” and a blaze orange cap, I wasn’t cute. Cars didn’t honk and wave; however, two cars did stop to ask directions while I worked on the arrows exposed to the west.

It was awkward and the conditions were far from perfect. I admit I did a half-assed job. I assured myself, however, that the Sandy Point motto (WHERE GOOD ENOUGH IS) applied.

BTW: The counterpart set of arrows some 400 ft. away on the opposite site of the highway and exposed to the east, were in FAR greater need of repair. There was no way I could give them a proper facelift on site. Without question, they had to be removed and bought back to my workshop for more serious microderm abrasion and Botox injections.

Baby, the morning sun when it’s in your face really shows your age.


Last summer, when we first noticed the arrows had grown tired, we couldn’t dedicate the hours needed to refurbish them. We didn’t want to take them down and miss the business that directed drivers off the Hwy. and into our den of income. For about a minute, I considered driving my golf cart to the highway and making a paint-in-hand house call. Mike even thought it would be good for business if I donned my special red bikini.

Don’t laugh. I gave it some thought.

As is usually the case, the season passed by so quickly, and the road arrows were left on the 2008’s backburner. But upon my 2009 return and like being fed up with too many gray hairs on an otherwise attractive middle-aged head, I simply had to go into makeover mode. I put on the blaze orange cap and the Mom Jeans, and broke out a little Road-Arrow-Loreal.

The business was worth it.

Ultimately, like a good dye job or a few Botox injections, we—the proud owners of the prettiest resort in the Northwoods—are probably the only ones who will notice the improvements.