Tag Archives: lake ocheda

Learning by Doing

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A couple of months ago, the little neighbor girl I mentor in 4-H stopped over at my house to tell me she’d recruited two other girls to join our club.

First, though, Alyssa asked me if I could tell them about 4-H.

Hmmm, that’s easy enough. I told the girls they get to attend monthly meetings, gain public speaking and leadership skills, give a demonstration, complete records and “learn by doing.”

Jennifer gets wet!

I talked about the fair and how they could make projects and earn ribbons, and I could tell they were thinking it all sounded kind of fun.

And then I told them about our Community Pride projects in the Ocheda Beavers … how we have a prairie garden and they get to visit my parents’ farm a few times during the summer to pull weeds. I also mentioned that we get to pick up garbage around the Lake Bella dam area; and finally, I told them we’ll take a boat ride and collect water samples on Lake Ocheda this summer.

Alyssa collecting a water sample.

I think they may have joined 4-H for the chance to win a purple ribbon, but to be completely honest, I’m pretty sure the weed pulling, garbage collecting and water sampling cinched the deal.

On Monday afternoon, four kids strapped themselves into my car and we headed for Pickeral Park on Lake Ocheda to meet Okabena-Ocheda Watershed District Administrator Dan Livdahl.

Dan has been wonderfully patient with the kids in our 4-H club, teaching them over the course of the past four years how to collect water samples, measure water clarity and plant a prairie garden. In essence, he has planted the seed in the minds of our Ocheda Beavers to take pride in their environment.

I get to see that pride show through often with neighbors Andy and Alyssa who, while they think it’s fun to pick up garbage left by fishermen at the Bella Dam, can’t understand why people would take such disregard for their environment and leave things like fishing line, bait bowls, beer cans and water bottles on the shoreline.

Maria watches water clarity test.

They want clean shorelines, they want clean lakes, and they are willing to do what they can to help … it’s what the 4-H Community Pride project is all about. Alyssa’s two new recruits, Jennifer and Maria, had their first taste of it on Monday.

Not only did they get to go for a boat ride and collect water samples, they helped plant the seeds harvested from our club’s prairie garden at a site in the Lake Bella Park. Then, they helped pick up the garbage around the Bella Dam.

Some might look at the projects as a lot of work, but to my four neighbor kids it was a day I think they’ll remember for a long time because of the laughter, the silliness and the fun.

While I will certainly remember the afternoon for all of those things, I think what is most important to me is knowing these kids truly were “Learning by Doing.” That’s what 4-H is all about.

Fishy, fishy on the line

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Driving back into town the other night from a quick visit to the farm, I noticed several people gathered around Hawkinson Bridge with their fishing poles, tackle boxes and buckets … some half-filled with water and, I imagine, a few bullheads.

Bullheads. Of all the summers I fished at Hawkinson Bridge, I’m pretty sure that’s all I ever caught.

But, oh, the memories that were made there on the bridge.

Dad took us there every summer when we were kids. We would cast from either side of the road in hopes of filling a five-gallon bucket with enough slimy, smelly bullheads for Mom to organize a fish fry.

As we grew older, we’d get dropped off at the bridge with our bait and poles, and an arrangement to be picked up in a couple of hours or so. (This was back in the old days, before cell phones were invented!)

So many of our fishing expeditions included my brothers Randy and Jason, and usually some of the neighborhood boys that were a couple years older than me.

We’d cast out our fishing line … I think we all used what we called bullhead hooks filled with fat, juicy nightcrawlers, and a sinker big enough to take the line down to just above the mud where the bullheads could see them.

Now, I must say our dad taught us how to fish at a pretty young age. We knew how to cast out without smacking our poles against the steel of the bridge or sending our hook and sinker into the reeds.

Apparently, the neighbor kids didn’t get fishing lessons from their fathers … or just never paid attention, I’m not sure which.

You will understand if you ever drive out to Hawkinson Bridge … it’s just a few miles south of Worthington on County Road 57. When you get to the bridge that crosses Lake Ocheda, look up in the air and to the west. There is a set of power lines there.

You might have to squint your eyes, but most likely not, and you will see fishing line … wrapped around power line, dangling from power line and completely tangled with power line.

Now, I’m not going to rat out the kid who is to blame for at least one of those fishing lines up there … he is, after all, older than me!

But oh, what a sight it was when it happened.

"What in the world are you gonna catch up there?" was teased by one of us kids, and I’m pretty sure someone asked him, "Who taught you how to fish?"

It wasn’t just that the fishing line went over the power line … but that the fishing line went over the power line and then acted like a gymnast on the uneven bars … you know, when they go around and around and around.

That’s what the fishing line did … the hook and sinker provided the momentum to keep going and going and going.

It became quite evident that the line wasn’t going to come down, even though the un-named boy tried to tug on his pole and wish the tangled mess loose.

Eventually … and obviously … we had to cut the line.

There may have been a pact made that night to "not tell our parents," but I figure the statute of limitations has long run out.

Besides, I’ve kept the secret for far too long. (Well, I did tell the story to all of my nieces and nephews who  learned to fish at Hawkinson Bridge, if nothing more than to teach them what not to do.) I figure if it makes me laugh every time I look up at that power line, I may as well share the story so other people can admire the un-named kid’s handiwork and laugh a little too!

The artifact

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The other day, I met Daily Globe photoguy Brian Korthals in the back alley as he was coming in to work for the day.

"We get to go on an adventure!" I told him. That in itself is code-word for something exciting.

Adventures with BK have included such things as a late night road trip to Brewster to cover the fire at Minnesota Soybean Processors, and a trip to visit the bison on John Bowron’s ranch along the Blue Mounds north of Luverne … a trip that included being chased by a bison!

Our adventure on Tuesday afternoon was a trip out to the Langseth family farm on the eastern shores of Lake Ocheda. I am writing a story for Saturday’s edition of the Daily Globe about shoreline erosion, and I needed BK to take an awesome photo.

When he asked if I’d brought along my boots, I said, "Of course."

They were just the wrong kind of boots. I had thrown my winter lace-ups (which also work well when walking through mildly soupy cattle yards) into the hatchback of my car, but what I should have packed was a pair of knee-high rubber boots.

BK, who apparently is prepared for anything, had not only a pair of tall rubber boots in his car, but a walking stick as well!

Anyway, we arrived at the Langseths and took a little drive up to an area of the shoreline that has some really bad erosion issues. BK’s plan was to walk farther down a walking path for better access to the lakeshore, and I just followed along, soaking up the sunshine and appreciating the serene lake setting.

I followed BK all the way down to the lakeshore access point, stepped over an old, decaying tree trunk, ducked under a tree branch and then stopped in my tracks. The narrow shoreline suddenly ended. I briefly thought about taking off my shoes and hiking up my pant legs. Had it been the middle of July instead of the middle of November, I just might have done that!

Instead, Paul Langseth and I turned back and let BK go on his merry way through the water.

It wasn’t until later that day, after the photo had been taken and we were back in the office, that BK shared with me one of his "finds" while walking along the lakeshore.

The Langseth property was, hundreds of years ago, a Native American settlement grounds. There are lots and lots of artifacts to be found, and BK has done quite a bit of searching there.

Anyway, BK came over to my desk and handed me this little artifact that fit nicely into the palm of my hand.

I looked it over from every angle, thinking that it looked pretty cool.

Now, I don’t know much of anything about hunting for artifacts or the realm of archeology … so I had to ask, "What is it?"

Any guesses?

It is a piece of buffalo tooth … one tooth, with the enamel intact on one side, but not on the other (see the back side photo below).

Now, I’m one of those people who gets squeemish at the sight of a person bleeding, screams bloody murder when I see a snake slither through the grass, gags at the thought of changing the niece’s dirty diaper, and feels like I must join in when a sick kid does the projectile vomit.

So, when BK asked if I’d like to keep the "artifact" as a memento of our Lake Ocheda adventure at the Langseths, I kindly said "No," so as not to hurt his feelings. I then had the sudden urge to go to the restroom and wash my hands … with lots of soap and hot water!

It wasn’t until Wednesday morning that I realized BK left the artifact laying on his desk. A co-worker was using the computer to work on a photo, picked up the buffalo tooth and asked, "What is this?"

"Don’t touch it!" I said, realizing immediately what it was.

She dropped it and grabbed for the hand sanitizer as I explained the artifact. Funny, but once she learned it was a buffalo tooth, she wasn’t nearly as grossed out by it as I was!

I’m still not comfortable touching the thing, but I had to take a couple of pictures of it to post here with my blog for you all to see. And yes, just in case you are wondering, I made another trip to the restroom for a couple of shots of liquid soap and a good scrubbing under the hot water faucet!