My next door neighbor, Dwin Helling, and I drove up the North Shore to Grand Marais. We had reservations at the Thompsonite Beach Inn and arrived about 4 p.m. to be greeted by the owner, who said the electricity was off but would probably be on in an hour or two.

"OK," we said. "We'll just get our stuff in our room and then go into Grand Marais and look around and have dinner."

I should have known that when the wind was blowing in gusts of up to 60 mph, there was not much chance of power returning anytime soon. But we drove the five miles into Grand Marais, checked out some art galleries and had a delightful dinner at the Crooked Spoon.

Back at Thompsonite Beach the power was still out, and there was not much hope of it coming back on. We had one of the best motel rooms I've ever been in, but it was a little hard to see it all with a kerosene lantern and flashlights.

Lake Superior was rolling with whitecaps moving away from the shore. We later learned that the waves were 20 feet high on the Michigan shore.

We watched the lake until it was too dark to see, and then headed to our beds. I did learn that one should never go on a trip without bottles of water. We carefully used the facility, without flushing it, and brushed our teeth with the one bottle of water we had with us.

The next day we blithely headed up the North Shore to Grand Portage with the intent of visiting an Ojibwa art gallery. All along 61, we saw downed power lines. The only place open was the casino, but we ignored that and started back south on 61 to Duluth.

As Dwin put it, this was just another adventure for us. A few years ago, Dwin and I had just arrived in Venice, Italy, when our tour group was informed that the company was bankrupt, and it was up to us to get ourselves home. A few phone calls to the airline, a train ride from Venice to Rome, problems with our change in airline reservations solved, and we were once more back in the Twin Cities. Granddaughter Kathleen picked me up at the airport, and the next day I drove home.

Putting up with no electricity was a whole lot easier than being stranded in Venice.

Our motel room in Duluth had electricity and hot water. A hot shower was the first thing on our agenda. Dwin's granddaughter, Nikki, joined us for dinner. The next morning we drove back to Pelican Lake. I unpacked, washed clothes and packed for a flight the next morning from Brainerd to Minneapolis to LaGuardia Airport, where my daughter, Becky, would pick me up.

The next day, Oct. 2, Becky, granddaughter Hilary and I drove to Becky and Sam's ski area townhouse at Sugar Bush in Vermont. It was raining, but the farther north we drove, the more color we saw. Vermont trees were in full bloom; it was the Leaf Season, which would be followed by the Stick Season (bare trees), and then the Ski Season.

Saturday we headed into town to the Farmer's Market. It was a big market with lots of vendors, plenty of veggies and even Sugar Crisp apples - and yes they get more for this University of Minnesota apple variety in Vermont, too. I hope that next summer the market in Pequot Lakes will have more growers bringing vegetables to sell.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I arrived back in Brainerd on Oct. 8, but the drive to Pelican Lake was lovely. The maples and oaks had changed to their fall colors and were shining in the late afternoon sun.

I was happy to be home, even if I woke up Saturday morning to snow on the ground and leaves still on the trees.

Wonder how soon until it will be the Stick Season here?