What's in Your College Student's Freezer?

My son Kyle and I had just traveled 200 miles to see my college sophomore, my oldest daughter Allison. She had barely graced our presence over Christmas in between college and her seasonal job as a dog-handler for Winter Moon. We had her five days and the trails of northern Minnesota had her for 20. We all felt lonesome for each other--perhaps it was the steady cold, the gray skies, the short days and long nights. Whatever the impulse, we were all looking forward to the weekend reunion. Being appreciative of good food, I brought several grocery bags from the co-op back home in the Twin Cities. Putting away the frozen tilapia, I met Charlie, the deer head.

The Sunshine House is different in more ways than oddities in the freezer. It is a theme condo on campus; a community that reaches out to other students through potlucks and happiness. The students at Sunshine bake their own bread, compost and run a bike cooperative. They are the millennial version of hippies. That's where Alli lives. We found her right away despite the sameness of the row of condos; the Sunshine House had to be the one with the rug over the door--hippies don't like drafts.

Northland College sits on a hill overlooking Chequamegon Bay in Ashland, WI. The college is a 4-year environmental liberal arts school tucked into a blue collar port along the southern shore of Lake Superior. Its aging ore dock speaks of more industrial days. Northland College may seem out of place with its Sunshine House, composting dorm toilets, wind turbine and environmental focus, but not really. Ashland has a small population in a very remote part of northern, WI. If it weren't for snow mobile trails, it would feel like stepping back into wilderness history. No less than eight Indian nations have settled on Chequamegon Bay, and four flags have whipped in the wind over the European claim on the Ashland area. The ghosts of this place are fluent in many languages.

Northland College asks its students, "Are you visionary by nature?" The college is strongly student-directed; a harbor for independent thinkers. Perhaps it's not so odd to find a deer head in the freezer of this unique college enclosed by forest and inland sea. Besides there were cartons of ice cream bringing some normalcy back to the Sunshine House freezer.

Yet, this was no ordinary ice cream and one that would lead us on the day's adventure. Alli wanted to show me the local dairy from where they bought their milk, butter and ice cream. Alli had recently been named Student Coordinator for Sustainable Food Systems by the college. Excited about her new student position, she was discovering the wealth of local food grown and produced along the curve and bluffs of Chequamegon Bay. The ice cream was one of those word-of-mouth discoveries; the area's best kept secret. The ice cream was phenomenal, she assured me and worth venturing back out onto the icy roads.

Tetzner Dairy on Nevers Road was not far from Bayfield, the port town that served as gateway to the Apostle Islands of Lake Superior. Bayfield sits across the bay from Ashland, but requires a winding drive to get there. Apple orchards and blueberry patches flourished on the bluffs overlooking the haven of sailboats that port in the sheltering bay. Bayfield is cozy, quaint and filled to the brim with art and creativity that unique places spawn. In winter, the boats are locked in ice and the shops all closed, but the town is still a beautiful place, waiting to bustle back to life.

I had heard about the Apostle Island's so-called ice road from Bayfield and was curious to see it, so we decided to drive the few extra miles past Nevers Road. We found it stretching out across the frozen bay all the way from Bayfield to Madeline Island, tracing the same path the summer ferries and sailboats followed. It looked like a snowmobile trail marked with discarded Christmas trees. However, the ice was not safe for passage. Alli posed next to the Danger sign, heard the ice pop and concluded it wasn't safe for college sophomores either. She rebounded by climbing a tree, getting an extra lift from the snow piled around its trunk. I snapped shots of boats frozen in the moment. Our noses cold, we returned to our car.

Kyle slept in the back seat through much of the exploration and remained oblivious to our steep accent up Nevers Road to Tetzner Dairy. Twice Alli instructed me to pull into snowy driveways that I wasn't so sure I'd be able to pull out of with my car. Both times it wasn't the dairy. Finally we found a plowed driveway that led down to an old farmstead. We parked in the circular drive. The resident Springer Spaniel didn't even stir from his spot reclining in the snow. We entered through a door that shut with the aid of an old pulley. Inside, the room was lined with refrigerated units and one large freezer. Following the instructions mounted on the counter top we wrote our goods in pencil on a small envelop. The prices were very reasonable and we even found a snack of WI cheese and jerky. We grabbed two tubs of ice cream and placed our money in the envelop then stuffed it into a large metal cash box. It felt like this is how we should all be doing business.

Heading back into Ashland, after a scary slide down the icy slope of Nevers Road, I began thinking of the tilapia in the freezer back at Sunshine. Hopefully it wasn't getting too attached to "Charlie." We had decided to go to the Nature Center that evening for a community showing of "Rocket Science." That meant we needed to get dinner started as soon as we arrived back at campus. It would be quick and easy since the frozen tilapia was pre-breaded with mango, pineapple and spices by our co-op back in MN. Add to it couscous and a salad of fresh--yes I said fresh as in hydroponically grown, year round-watercress, spinach, maple-glazed walnuts and dried WI cranberries. We stopped for a bottle of local mead, made from WI honey.

"Rocket Science" was funny, smart and heartwarming. A great movie to share with your teens. The Nature Center has a beautiful facility and opening up their educational theater to the community was a splendid idea. We returned to the Sunshine House and enjoyed a simple dessert of triple-cream brie, crackers and a raw chocolate and honey wedge made by a handsome Frenchman back in MN. Keeping it local, yet European, we shared a bottle of German apple wine from Bayfield.

You might be wondering about the ice cream. Yes, I snagged a few bites of this creamy sensation, but understanding its importance to my daughter, we let her keep it to herself--a treat for a college student. Besides, the deer-head in the freezer would have been all alone.