This would be hard to handle. All she's missing is some dive gear.
http://www.cdapress.com/articles/2005/03/19/news/news01.txt
OR
'Lady of the Lake'
Posted: Saturday, Mar 19, 2005 - 09:35:09 am PST
By LYNN BERK
Staff writer
Contracted mail carrier makes her appointed rounds
LAKE COEUR d'ALENE -- Neither rain nor snow will keep U.S. Postal Service contractor Peg Michaelsen from making her appointed rounds to homes across Lake Coeur d'Alene, and she doesn't have to worry about that old "gloom of night."
Wind, however, is a whole other story. And possibly occasional fog.
"When the wind reaches 20 mph, I won't go out," she says. "It's too dangerous. And sometimes when it's foggy, the clouds will get right down there on the water, and you just can't see."
But those are two rare exceptions to Michaelsen's mail delivery. Even the snow doesn't deter her, although, when she first started making this water-borne loop four years ago, her rented boat didn't have an enclosed cabin like her 18 1/2-foot aluminium Crestliner does now.
"It had a windshield and a little bit of a top," she says as the boat rode high and hard across the choppy waters Thursday morning. "When I turned around to look, the snow was 4 feet high on the seats."
Michaelsen is one of only two water-carriers in North Idaho. There is another delivery man who works Lake Pend Oreille six days a week all year round -- but he only makes three stops. Michaelsen's route includes 15 to 20 deliveries in the winter three times a week, and as many as 80, six days a week, June through October.
"No one seems to mind that they get their mail only three times a week in the winter," she says.
For Michaelsen, it's a dream job. Most of the time, it's just her, and the silver-blue water, and the dogs that trot happily down steep hillsides and angled staircases to meet her. Without missing a beat, she tosses out dog biscuits even as she leans out to stash mail in the dockside boxes.
Even on this day, when dark clouds move in quickly and whitecaps begin frothing the surface of the lake, a couple of dogs come down to meet her. She throws out two biscuits, but the little brown dog ambling leisurely behind the golden pup doesn't get the significance of this in time, and Gold Dog snatches up both.
"I know all the dogs by now," Michaelsen says. "These two used to be so shy, they wouldn't even come off the hill up there."
At another house, the mailbox opens from both ends to accommodate the two dogs their owners have trained to retrieve the mail with their mouths.
Her deliveries today take only about 45 minutes, but with the water this choppy, it's still a balancing act as Michaelsen maneuvers the boat close enough to open the box, stuff the mail in, close it and retrieve her hand before it's scrunched between the box and the boat.
"In the beginning, I used to get some scratches and break some nails," she admits. "But I've pretty much gotten it down by now."
One windy day, however, she managed to pull the entire mailbox down into the water, mail and all.
"The boat lifted the box right out of the dock," she says. "I looked back and the whole mailbox was in the water. I backed up right away and got it out.
"The people were real nice about it."
Asked what went through her head when she looked back and saw the floating mailbox, she just smiles and says, "I thought, oh, you-know-what..."
Michaelsen is an independent contractor for the Postal Service. Her job goes up for bid, first every four years, then every two, and now it's year by year. The 54-year-old Coeur d'Alene woman says she substituted for a while and then put her own bid for the position.
"It's a fun job," she says. "My parents have a place on the south end of the lake, and I've always loved being outdoors and being out on the water."
On this day, her route takes her from Casco Bay around to Loffs Bay, but in the summer she skims nearly halfway up the lake and back. And when the kids fill up the summer camps that line the lake, her boat fills, too, with "care" packages from home.
On this chilly winter day, there is no one else out on the lake except for the Kootenai Sheriff's Department. Many of the elegant, lakeside homes are shuttered for the season: Nobody stirs except for a goose that frantically paddles away as the boat draws closer, and those two small dogs.
It's Michaelsen's favorite time of the year.
"It's so quiet," she says. "Most of the time I'm by myself and you can see the Canada geese flying by, or sometimes a golden eagle. You don't have to put up with other boaters' wakes.
"It's just so peaceful."
Each season brings its own hazards. In the summer, it's the other boats competing for space. And in winter, ice can glaze the water in uneven patches.
"Sometimes I've come down and the boat was frozen in the dock," she says.
This winter has been remarkably mild, but the resulting drought has Michaelsen keeping an unusually close eye on lake levels.
"I have a depth-finder that I use faithfully," she says, and in fact, on this particular trip, she steers away from one area where the lake bottom is clearly visible. "This is about as low as I've ever seen it," she says. "I have to be careful I don't hit a deadhead, the sunken logs that lie on the bottom.
"Right now, I'm in about 3 feet of water. One time I got the tail end of the boat caught in mud and water, and the mud got sucked up right into the engine."
If she can't get to a mailbox without getting snagged by the shore, she'll just drop that recipient's collection into a neighbor's box. On the lake, reciprocity is the norm.
Only once has she ever been afraid.
"I ran into waves as deep at the boat's bow," she says. "The boat was just rocking and rocking -- I was almost in the passenger seat, steering."
Her daughter designed business cards for her that call her, simply, "Lady of the Lake." The boat, on the other hand, has no name, but it still costs her about $7,000 a year to maintain and that could well go up as oil prices stretch into the stratosphere.
Still, there is no other job that would appeal to Michaelsen more. She hates the thought that someday all of these homes might be road-accessible.
"Oh, gosh, yes, I'd miss it," she says.
"It's kind of hard to have a bad attitude when you have a job like this."
Lynn Berk can be reached at 664-8176, ext. 2016, or at lberk@cdapress.com.
http://www.cdapress.com/articles/2005/03/19/news/news01.txt
OR
'Lady of the Lake'
Posted: Saturday, Mar 19, 2005 - 09:35:09 am PST
By LYNN BERK
Staff writer
Contracted mail carrier makes her appointed rounds
LAKE COEUR d'ALENE -- Neither rain nor snow will keep U.S. Postal Service contractor Peg Michaelsen from making her appointed rounds to homes across Lake Coeur d'Alene, and she doesn't have to worry about that old "gloom of night."
Wind, however, is a whole other story. And possibly occasional fog.
"When the wind reaches 20 mph, I won't go out," she says. "It's too dangerous. And sometimes when it's foggy, the clouds will get right down there on the water, and you just can't see."
But those are two rare exceptions to Michaelsen's mail delivery. Even the snow doesn't deter her, although, when she first started making this water-borne loop four years ago, her rented boat didn't have an enclosed cabin like her 18 1/2-foot aluminium Crestliner does now.
"It had a windshield and a little bit of a top," she says as the boat rode high and hard across the choppy waters Thursday morning. "When I turned around to look, the snow was 4 feet high on the seats."
Michaelsen is one of only two water-carriers in North Idaho. There is another delivery man who works Lake Pend Oreille six days a week all year round -- but he only makes three stops. Michaelsen's route includes 15 to 20 deliveries in the winter three times a week, and as many as 80, six days a week, June through October.
"No one seems to mind that they get their mail only three times a week in the winter," she says.
For Michaelsen, it's a dream job. Most of the time, it's just her, and the silver-blue water, and the dogs that trot happily down steep hillsides and angled staircases to meet her. Without missing a beat, she tosses out dog biscuits even as she leans out to stash mail in the dockside boxes.
Even on this day, when dark clouds move in quickly and whitecaps begin frothing the surface of the lake, a couple of dogs come down to meet her. She throws out two biscuits, but the little brown dog ambling leisurely behind the golden pup doesn't get the significance of this in time, and Gold Dog snatches up both.
"I know all the dogs by now," Michaelsen says. "These two used to be so shy, they wouldn't even come off the hill up there."
At another house, the mailbox opens from both ends to accommodate the two dogs their owners have trained to retrieve the mail with their mouths.
Her deliveries today take only about 45 minutes, but with the water this choppy, it's still a balancing act as Michaelsen maneuvers the boat close enough to open the box, stuff the mail in, close it and retrieve her hand before it's scrunched between the box and the boat.
"In the beginning, I used to get some scratches and break some nails," she admits. "But I've pretty much gotten it down by now."
One windy day, however, she managed to pull the entire mailbox down into the water, mail and all.
"The boat lifted the box right out of the dock," she says. "I looked back and the whole mailbox was in the water. I backed up right away and got it out.
"The people were real nice about it."
Asked what went through her head when she looked back and saw the floating mailbox, she just smiles and says, "I thought, oh, you-know-what..."
Michaelsen is an independent contractor for the Postal Service. Her job goes up for bid, first every four years, then every two, and now it's year by year. The 54-year-old Coeur d'Alene woman says she substituted for a while and then put her own bid for the position.
"It's a fun job," she says. "My parents have a place on the south end of the lake, and I've always loved being outdoors and being out on the water."
On this day, her route takes her from Casco Bay around to Loffs Bay, but in the summer she skims nearly halfway up the lake and back. And when the kids fill up the summer camps that line the lake, her boat fills, too, with "care" packages from home.
On this chilly winter day, there is no one else out on the lake except for the Kootenai Sheriff's Department. Many of the elegant, lakeside homes are shuttered for the season: Nobody stirs except for a goose that frantically paddles away as the boat draws closer, and those two small dogs.
It's Michaelsen's favorite time of the year.
"It's so quiet," she says. "Most of the time I'm by myself and you can see the Canada geese flying by, or sometimes a golden eagle. You don't have to put up with other boaters' wakes.
"It's just so peaceful."
Each season brings its own hazards. In the summer, it's the other boats competing for space. And in winter, ice can glaze the water in uneven patches.
"Sometimes I've come down and the boat was frozen in the dock," she says.
This winter has been remarkably mild, but the resulting drought has Michaelsen keeping an unusually close eye on lake levels.
"I have a depth-finder that I use faithfully," she says, and in fact, on this particular trip, she steers away from one area where the lake bottom is clearly visible. "This is about as low as I've ever seen it," she says. "I have to be careful I don't hit a deadhead, the sunken logs that lie on the bottom.
"Right now, I'm in about 3 feet of water. One time I got the tail end of the boat caught in mud and water, and the mud got sucked up right into the engine."
If she can't get to a mailbox without getting snagged by the shore, she'll just drop that recipient's collection into a neighbor's box. On the lake, reciprocity is the norm.
Only once has she ever been afraid.
"I ran into waves as deep at the boat's bow," she says. "The boat was just rocking and rocking -- I was almost in the passenger seat, steering."
Her daughter designed business cards for her that call her, simply, "Lady of the Lake." The boat, on the other hand, has no name, but it still costs her about $7,000 a year to maintain and that could well go up as oil prices stretch into the stratosphere.
Still, there is no other job that would appeal to Michaelsen more. She hates the thought that someday all of these homes might be road-accessible.
"Oh, gosh, yes, I'd miss it," she says.
"It's kind of hard to have a bad attitude when you have a job like this."
Lynn Berk can be reached at 664-8176, ext. 2016, or at lberk@cdapress.com.
