By Ashley Lodato
Barri Bernier and Garth Mudge live right near a reduced-speed zone that is often ignored, so when Barri saw a deer statue at the dump, she knew just what she would do with it. The deer she parked at the top of their driveway seemed to be successful in getting speeders to slow down for a while, but then the deer was stolen — er, relocated — by someone else to the Balky Hill area, presumably to curb their speeding issues. (How’s the new speed trap going for you Balky Hill deer poachers?)
Barri then decided that a pair of pink flamingos might prove as effective a deterrent to speeding as the deer, but then one of the flamingos disappeared overnight. Much to Barri’s surprise, however, the flamingo migrated back, now looking distinctively Halloween-ish. Ever wondered what a flamingo skeleton looks like? Now you know.

Barri Bernier and Garth Mudge were hopeful that plastic flamingos might distract drivers enough to slow them down a bit.
All this talk of yard art disappearing and reappearing makes me think of Twin Lakes’ favorite little slightly-creepy guy: Woody the Rodeo Clown. I haven’t seen Woody lurking near anyone’s driveway lately, but I’m certain he’s out there, waiting for a mobile human to make his next move for him.
Students on the fall wilderness leadership training semester program at Outward Bound celebrated the end of their 50-day program as well as the 50th anniversary of Outward Bound in the Pacific Northwest by inviting a bunch of Outward Bound old-timers for dinner on Sunday night. The brainchild of this soiree, course director Judith Robertson, prepped the students by providing them with flash cards featuring the photos and biographies of guests who would be in attendance, so as we arrived and introduced ourselves the students said things like “Oh yes, you’re the one who …,” and shared with us some tidbit from our Outward Bound past, thus making us feel like wilderness education celebrities.
The students then welcomed us with a Samuel Ullman poem about youth being a state of mind, which is a sentiment that is easier to subscribe to when you’re not surrounded by the rosy-cheeked, unwrinkled faces and creak-less knees of 19-year-olds.
After dinner we perused old scrapbooks featuring Polaroid photos of former instructors like Paul Butler (if you think he’s a pinup man now, you should have seen him back in the day), Rob Seckinger with bigger hair and an even bushier beard, and Belinda Denchfield, who looks exactly like she did 20 years ago. Then the old-timers departed, back to the lives we’ve created beyond Outward Bound, while the next generation of wilderness leaders stayed to contemplate the adventures that await them.