THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME

Hodag Country, Rhinelander, WI

(August 2011)

There’s nothing quite as lovely as northern Wisconsin in late summer, other than the splendid colors of fall, and luckily for me, I was born and raised there. A week after I returned from Puerto Rico, I was boarding a plane on my way to my hometown for some family time.

Northern Wisconsin is home to fabulous glacier country, where thousands of years ago, glaciers crept through the land, creating hundreds of lakes and rolling hills, which are now surrounded by thousands of trees, giving it the nickname The Northwoods.

My family with the larger-than-life Hodag

I grew up in a small city called Rhinelander, home of the infamous Hodag, the mythical beast of northern Wisconsin, and by saying that those of us from Rhinelander are very proud of our Hodag would be an understatement. The tale states that the Hodag is approximately seven feet long and four feet high with green, scaly skin, large white horns, and white spikes traveling down its back. Its eyes glow red, and it has sharp, menacing fangs. Its favorite food is said to be the white bulldog.

The legends of the Hodag are many and date back to the late 19^th century, but two stories have stuck with me through the years. One states that it was folklore with the lumberjacks, a story they would tell around the campfire whenever a new member joined their ranks, and upon telling the story, a few men hiding in the woods would start making noises and rustling leaves in order to scare the new guys. Another states that a local lumberjack claimed to capture the Hodag in the woods, and he put it on display in a hooded cage as proof. Little more than the eyes and a silhouette could be seen, but people came from all over to see the creature, until scientists from the Smithsonian came to investigate. It was then revealed to be a hoax—the man had created a puppet that he would move intermittently in order scare the already nervous viewers.

Since that time, Rhinelander has adopted the hoax as a legend and the Hodag as a very auspicious mascot. I must admit, I am a very big fan of the Hodag and carry a lot of pride in my heart for it.

The Northwoods

My sister and her family, who currently live in Anchorage, Alaska, were coming down to Wisconsin to visit all the family in the “lower 48,” as the Alaskans call us, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet my newest little nephew, Colten. We were even able to convince my brother to take a break from his work in Idaho and fly in for the weekend, since very few of us had seen him in a few years. 

I took advantage of my office’s summer Friday hours and boarded a plane at LaGuardia airport in the late afternoon. Unfortunately for me, I got a middle seat between two dudes—not men; dudes—who insisted on eating up all the armrests, leaving me tucked tightly into my tiny seat, and the guy to my right had horrible gas the entire two hour flight. Let me tell you how much fun that was…*ahem*… We touched down in Milwaukee, where I had a layover, and I was finally able to breathe again.

It had been many years since I had visited the Milwaukee airport, and it had undergone quite a change! Before, I was limited to the one long hallway with a couple dozen gates, a Starbucks kiosk, a bar with a limited food menu, and a little store selling snacks and Wisconsin memorabilia. Now, they’ve expanded the terminal to a second level, brought in a new, local coffee kiosk, turned the bar into a nice, sit-down restaurant, and added a Johnny Rockets. It doesn’t sound like much, but try being isolated in a lonely, small terminal with your only real food option being unappetizing, pre-made sandwiches, and then tell me seeing a Johnny Rockets isn’t the slightest bit exciting…

I can usually tell the moment I’ve entered Wisconsin territory, as everyone and everything is decked out in Packers’ green and gold. For my foreign readers out there, the Green Bay Packers are the American football team representing the state of Wisconsin. Much like Rhinelander’s Hodag-pride, Packer-pride runs abundant throughout Wisconsin. Just sitting in the terminal, it was very evident I was back in Wisconsin, but I truly had an “I’m not in New York anymore” moment while I grabbed dinner at Johnny Rockets.

A small, rambunctious group sat at the table next to me, and I, to entertain myself, eavesdropped on their conversations, chuckling to myself over the little jokes and one-liners they would pull out for each other. When they were packing up and cleaning off their tables, I slipped into my own thoughts, making mental notes of the things I needed to do. A voice broke through my thoughts, and I heard, “Are you all right, honey?” I realized the question was directed at me, looked up, and saw the large black man from the group who had provided me much entertainment, looking at me with concern. Whenever I slip deep into thought I tend to look sad/mad/everything in between—it used to get me in trouble in college, as people who didn’t know me tended to believe I was an angry individual. I quickly assuaged his concerns by laughing and saying that I, in fact, was perfectly fine, just lost in my own to-do list. He told me he was about to sit down and talk it out with me, all the while laughing his boisterous, shoulder-shaking laugh. It brightened my day. Living in New York for over a decade, having a perfect stranger check in on you is a rarity.

The short flight to Rhinelander was uneventful, and before I knew it, I was touching down in my hometown. I grabbed my carry-on luggage from the rack beside the airplane (a small plane means no overhead storage), and, having no other luggage, proceeded to the exit, all the while looking for my family…but no one was to be found. I called my house, and my mom told me that my dad was on his way and most likely there already. I walked outside to see if he was waiting in the parking lot and ventured back inside to see if maybe I missed him in the waiting area. Confirming that I had definitely not seen him, I walked back outside to see my dad parking the car and walking towards the entrance.

I had fun ribbing him for being so late, since our house was ten minutes from the airport, and I had landed and de-boarded ten minutes prior to him driving up. He thought I had just landed since I was walking outside as he parked. I then regaled him with my outside-inside-outside story. He was amused. 

The whole family was up and awaiting my arrival in the kitchen, including my two nephews; Jackson, the two year old, was snacking on fruit, and his brother, Colten, almost four months old, was about to go to bed, but I got to squeeze him for the first time. That baby was HUGE! He was already almost 20lbs—not in an overweight way, but in a solid way. He was a strong little sucker, that’s for sure.

My brother, Josh, and I exchanged pleasantries, and by pleasantries I mean foul jokes at the other’s expense. Ah, it’s so nice to be around family. Unfortunately, his wife, Cindy, wasn’t able to make the trip, so we were both without our travel buddies. 

Finally, all home together

I checked the fridge and made sure it was fully stocked with squeaky cheese curds, a Wisconsin delicacy. My family had also saved me some fish from the Friday fish fry they had attended that night—Friday fish fries are very popular in Wisconsin. Basically, you venture out to a restaurant and eat endless amounts of fish. I also confirmed that we were well stocked on brats for our weekend cookout, because a cookout in Wisconsin would not be complete without beer-boiled brats.

While the rest of the family started getting ready for bed, Josh and I headed over to the computer so I could show him pictures of my trip to Egypt, followed by late night chatting as we tried to catch up in the limited time we had together.

Then, it was off to bed, as we had a busy day ahead of us with a giant family barbecue. Lots to be done!