inky ink, inc. | Wisconsin Report & Matador Playlists

02 Aug Wisconsin Report & Matador Playlists – 7/6/17 & 7/13/17

Posted at 00:05h in Uncategorized by inkyinkinc

As you may well have ascertained by now, Gentle Reader(s), while spending the majority of his time in La Ciudad Real de la Santa Fe de San Francisco de Asis Your Humble Narrator regularly travels to Ink South in New Orleans and, alternatively, to Ink North in Wisconsin to see Inky Mum and to commune with nature of the northern woodlands variety. Ink North is located just outside of the lovely town of Sheboygan, which is about 50 miles north of Milwaukee on the western shore of Lake Michigan. The paleface history of Sheboygan dates back to the 1780s and the town was incorporated in 1846, probably to the chagrin of the Potawatomi, Menominee, Chippewa and other native tribes that originally called the region home. It currently has a population of about 50,000 souls and just south of the city limits is the town of Wilson wherein there is to be found a lovely, densely wooded neighborhood known as Black River.

A Great Blue fishing in Black River

Black River derives its name from the dark-hued meandering waterway that winds its way north from the wetlands that congregate in the corn fields and stands of primeval forest northeast of Oostburg, eventually emptying into Lake Michigan a mile or so north of our property. Although only about 4 miles south of downtown Sheboygan, Black River was a place where city folk would keep a modest cottage to escape the heat of the city proper (such as it is, or was) on summer weekends. It eventually attracted a mixed year-round populace of working folks in addition to well-heeled second homers from Milwaukee and Chicago and even a small artist’s colony that flourished briefly from the 1920s through the ‘40s. In 1938 Inky Mum’s mom and dad, my grandparents, purchased one of those modest summer cottages on an half-acre of land about one block from Lake Michigan. The property expanded in the early ‘70s when Inky Mum and Dad purchased an adjoining lot which became home to my dad’s northern studio and my own modest refuge. The region is notable for the profusion of self-taught artists who indulged in their idiosyncratic practices during the long, dark winters and the brief, glorious summers. Back in the 1920s one of them, James Tellen, started installing his oddball concrete sculptures throughout his property a couple of blocks from Ink North. The Tellen Woodland Sculpture Garden is actively preserved and remains open to the public, year round.

James Tellen’s Madonna

Inky Mum spent her summer vacations in Black River from about ten years old onwards, and our immediate family spent our summer vacations there since I was borned into this, the most imperiled of all possible worlds. Our next door neighbors, the Lenz family, had three daughters and two sons and those two sons were my steadfast summertime besties throughout childhood. By the later ‘70s, when I began to come into my own as a surly teenage drug fiend, the joys of the annual summer pilgrimage to Black River began to fade somewhat in my estimation. The Lenz boys were off to school and to work and it wasn’t quite the same as in my carefree youth.

Moo cows on Flader Hill

I largely kept my distance from the familial retreat throughout the ‘80s and into the early ‘90s, but by the middle of the Clinton years I began to discover anew the charms of the north woods. I acquired a bicycle—once considered too extravagant an expense for a few scant weeks of summertime cycling—and began to explore in depth the area within a 20 to 30 mile radius of our neighborhood. There were miles and miles of arrow-straight country roads cutting through vast expanses of cornfields and dairy cow pastures, void of traffic except for the occasional combine or tractor. There were miles of beach where it was possible to ride a mountain bike along the wet sand at water’s edge. The beach was home to a rich assortment of driftwood, residue of the lake fishing industry, and a wealth of smooth, rounded stones, the most characteristic of which were pitch black—iconic, O’Keeffe-esque minimalism right there in the sand (appropriate, as Georgia was a Wisconsin girl). As kids we scoured the beach for exceptional examples of stones to bring back to the house and flat ones that sat well in the palm and were perfect for skipping. Occasionally wondrous things emerged from the sand, like the skeleton of a massive wooden sailing vessel that reared up over up a couple of weeks one long-ago summer. Our primary goal while wandering up and down the beach was the prized yellow brick. These beautiful specimens, rounded off at the corners from prolonged rolling and tumbling in the surf of Lake Michigan, were manufactured in the Milwaukee vicinity in the late 19th and early 20th centuries from a distinctive cream-colored clay found in the Menomonee River Valley. Inky Mum was much enamored of these bricks and over the years we carried hundreds of them home to be used as paving, garden borders and in a fireplace when my parents’ new home was constructed in the early 2000s.

The Sheboygan River harbor, Lake Michigan beyond.

Unique to bike riding in the Black River area is the exceptional diversity of the experience. In one extended ride one can explore the trails through an expansive stand of virgin woods and wetland between our property and the Kohler Andrae State Park to the south, emerge from the deep green woods to the bright sunlight of the farmland extending off to the west, and turning back to the east pass through the dense woods once again to the edge of the inland sea that is Lake Michigan. Many of my most pleasurable biking experiences have taken place in Sheboygan Country and I often venture out equipped with compact binoculars (for critter watching) and a variety of cameras (an SX 70 Polaroid, my trusty Olympus, and my iPhone) to document what I find along the way.

Sandhill cranes on Old Park Road.

The flora and fauna of the region are wildly diverse and I have crossed paths with all manner of critterdom over the years. Besides the vast array of woodlands songbirds, woodpeckers, red-winged blackbirds, ducks, gulls and other shore birds there are Canada geese, sandhill cranes, assorted hawks and falcons, marsh hens and the occasional owl. Birds that were once rare, if not unknown, in the area—the bald eagle, the great blue heron and wild turkey—are now relatively common. In recent years a population of white pelicans has taken to summering along the lakefront. Being a Louisiana native it still strikes me as odd to see these big, majestic birds making themselves at home in the Great White North.

Earthbound, one can expect to find plentiful white tailed deer and red foxes in addition to the usual population of squirrels, raccoons, chipmunks and possum. Strangely, I’ve only once caught a fleeting glimpse of a Taxidea taxus although one of the state’s nicknames is the Badger State. Where are they all hiding? I don’t mind that the badgers are hiding as long as they’re not hiding under my house.

Inky Mum, outstanding in her field.

The local wildflowers are spectacular and profuse and vary dramatically throughout the warmer seasons. In mid-summer, as on this most recent trip, there is queen anne’s lace, day lilies, bluebells, black-eyed susans, daisies, milkweed, goldenrod, purple clover—sometimes vast fields carpeted with them. The cattails in the Black River marsh were high as an elephant’s eye. By my next trip the milkweed will probably be in full bloom and the monarch butterflies will be in residence.

Flader Hill Cemetery

One spot that I visit on every single ride is the Flader Hill Cemetery, about six miles south and west of Ink North on Middle Road. With gravestones dating back to the mid-19th century this beautiful spot is as idyllic a resting place as one could imagine. There is a medium-sized dairy farm to the north, cornfields and woodlands to the east and west, and an old barn with a small pasture full of inquisitive Holsteins to the south. The names on the gravestones illustrate the Germanic, Dutch and Scandinavian heritage of the region. The men are named Fritz, Ludwig, Gottfried, Heinrich and Wilhelm. The women are named Eva, Wilhelmina, Johanna and Magda. Some are so weathered that their inscriptions are largely illegible. I’ve been photographing Flader Hill Cemetery for the better part of 20 years now—it strikes me as insanely picturesque—and as with so many such things, it never changes but it’s never the same. The weathered red barns and their neighboring silos are always picturesque and I worry over these noble edifices as they sway and buckle under the tyranny of the passing decades. Occasionally I’ll pedal down a road where I’ve been many times before to find a gigantic pile of wood and stone rubble where a beautiful 19th century barn once stood. It’s sad to see, but many of these substantial structures are unused and their owners can’t afford the maintenance required to keep them structurally sound.

Down by the lake

Generally speaking, things have changed little in Black River over the years but the neighborhood is currently facing its biggest challenge yet. The 247-acre stand of virgin woods between Black River and the Kohler Andrae State Park is the private property of bathroom fixture mogul Herb Kohler (the village of Kohler is just west of Sheboygan) and he intends to build a championship quality golf course on the property. This would be to augment the eight courses currently extant within the county, three of which are Kohler developments. A fiercely dedicated grassroots movement has emerged in Black River over the past three years and the fight against Kohler and the threatened decimation of the woods and wetlands continues apace. The Kohler forces have been engaging in all sorts of shenanigans, cozying up to state and local politicos and trying to bust one back room move after another. Recognizing the intense anti-golf course sentiment in Black River proper, Kohler’s latest ethically questionable strategy has been to snuggle up to the city of Sheboygan with the intention of getting the city to annex the property. To achieve this end the Kohler company purchased multiple properties in the Town of Wilson, at least some of them under false pretenses. One of the former homeowners has publicly stated that they would have never sold their property if they had been aware of who the real purchaser was. If Herb Kohler and his big bucks buddies succeed with their clear-cutting/wetlands-draining dreams the future of Ink North may very well hang in the balance.

So we do our best to fight the good fight and, for the time being, I continue to visit Black River regularly, typically with Inky Mum in tow, and I continue to explore the region with two wheels and assorted lenses. It’s a beautiful little corner of the world and I am lucky indeed to call a tiny portion of it home.

Matador Playlist 7/6/17

Grammar of Life – Charles Bukowski
Too Much Pork for Just One Fork – Southern Culture on the Skids
Love Comes in Spurts – Richard Hell
The Irish Rover – the Pogues
Capital – Gang of Four
Folsom Prison Blues – Johnny Cash
Amsterdam – Black Angels
The Next Day – David Bowie
Concrete Jungle – Bob Marley
Cashing In – Minor Threat
Purity Rock – Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry
And Your Bird Can Sing – the Beatles
Lost Mi Lover – Yellowman
With My Eyes Closed – the Raveonettes
Uptown Top Ranking – Althea & Donna
Let’s Stop Kicking Our Hearts Around – Bottle Rockets
Grinding Halt – the Cure
Runnin’ Up On Ya – House of Pain
Behind Closed Doors – Charlie Rich
Girl U Want – Devo
Interstate Love Song – Stone Temple Pilots
Cookie Thumper! – Die Antwoord
I Got Loaded – Lil’ Bob & the Lillipops
My House Has Wheels – Southern Culture on the Skids
Close Up the Honky Tonks – the Flying Burrito Brothers
Riotstarted (w/ Tom Morello & Henry Rollins) – Public Enemy
Being Boiled – Human League
Bag of Bones – Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
Don’t Stop Honey (feat. Cedric Burnside) – R.L. Burnside
Pusherman – Curtis Mayfield
Green River – Creedence Clearwater Revival (for Iris)
Papa Was A Rolling Stone – the Temptations
I’d Rather Be Sleeping – D.R.I.
Take Me to the River – Talking Heads
Superstition – Stevie Wonder
Seven Nation Army – White Stripes
Say It Isn’t So – Hall & Oates
Band of Gold – Freda Payne
Black Dog – Led Zeppelin
No Horse – the Dead Weather
(White Man) In Hammersmith Palais – the Clash
Johnny B. Goode – Chuck Berry
I Saw Her Standing There – the Beatles
Fatty Boom Boom – Die Antwoord
I’m A Believer – the Monkees
1999 – Prince
Wanna Be Startin Something – Michael Jackson
Double It – Galactic + Big Freedia
Get Up-I Feel Like Being A Sex Machine – James Brown
Dance to the Music – Sly & the Family Stone
Stayin’ Alive – the Bee Gees
Under Pressure – David Bowie + Queen
Pictures of You – the Cure
Ray of Light – Madonna
Blue Monday – New Order
Let My Baby Ride – R.L. Burnside
You Be Illin’ – Run-DMC
Any Way You Want It – Journey
52 Girls – the B 52s
Always A Friend – Alejandro Escovedo
I Was Wrong – Social Distortion
I Walked With A Zombie – Roky Erikson
Glad Girls – Guided By Voices
Hey Hey What Can I Do – Led Zeppelin
Just Got Paid – ZZ Top
Baby Blue – Badfinger
Close To Me – the Cure
Bummer in the Summer – Love
Understand Your Man – Dwight Yoakam
After Forever – Black Sabbath
Harper Valley P.T.A. – Jeannie C. Riley
She – Jesus & Mary Chain
Sleep With Me – Mark Lanegan
Jet Generation – Guitar Wolf
Hello Walls – Faron Young
Sister Midnight – Iggy Pop
Children of the Grave – Black Sabbath
World Without Tears – Lucinda Williams
Buona Sera – Louis Prima
Happy Trails – Roy Rogers & Dale Evans (feat. Trigger on No Chaos Horn)
Taxi – Bryan Ferry