I Miss the "Ridgerunner"

Across the Fence #489

One thing people of my age do is scan through the obituaries in the newspaper each day. As long as our name isn’t listed, we’re good to go for another day. Unfortunately, I see a lot of people my age and younger listed. All too often I see someone I know.

This past weekend I saw the name of James C. Solberg from the La Crosse area, who died on March 18, 2014. He was only 68 years old, two years younger than I am. 

I didn’t know Jim personally. I never had the pleasure of meeting him, but I feel like I know him through his popular weekly newspaper column, the “Ridgerunner Report” by Jim Solberg. I’m sure many of you were faithful readers of his column too and miss it as much as I do. Due to health problems, he had to give up writing it. The last column ran almost a year ago on May 1, 2013. He said in that column that the perfect storm of physical difficulties and print media business realities (deadlines) put an end to his column. He said, “I will miss sharing my experiences with you more than I can possibly describe.”

Jim was a wonderful nature and wildlife photographer as well as an outdoor writer. Many of his photos of wildlife accompanied his writings. He had a gift of being able to put his observations of nature into words that gave us all a better appreciation for the natural world around us and made me want to head for the woods and marshes in search of the sights and sounds he wrote about. I learned something new each week from Jim. When he was no longer able to continue the column, I found out how much a person can miss a weekly column when it’s no longer available. I had meant to contact Jim and tell him how much I enjoyed his column, but I never took the time to do it. Now I’m sorry I didn’t let him know, but it’s too late. 

I know what he meant when he said he’d miss sharing his experiences. I would too. I understand the pressure of meeting weekly deadlines and staring at a blank sheet of paper, hoping some words will magically materialize. Writing can sometimes be an exercise of quiet desperation. I’m willing to bet Jim had some days like that too. But when all is said and done, and someone tells you they like your column, it makes it all worthwhile. That’s why it bothers me now that I never told Jim how much I enjoyed his writing and how I could relate to so many things he wrote about. 

On Sunday, the day after I read about his passing over to the great nature preserve beyond this world, I knew I had to visit Goose Island just south of La Crosse. It was one of Jim’s favorite places to go and observe nature and all the birds and wildlife that occupy the area. After it became harder for him to get around, it was the one place that was still accessible to him, where he could observe and report on the wonders of nature that he found there.

As Linda and I drove slowly along the access road, I spotted two sandhill cranes standing in an open area of water in a marshy area. Most of the water on and around the island is still frozen over. In another area of the marsh I saw a muskrat heading across the ice toward his home that was surrounded by ice. An open patch of water was nearby, where he could enter the water and gain entrance to his home. I could imagine Jim in his healthier days, walking these trails with his trusty camera and notebook, to capture and record scenes like those, and later weave them into one of his wonderful stories.

We also spotted a bald eagle perched high in a tree and saw several ducks lazily floating on patches of open water. It was a bright, sunny day, but the cold, biting wind reminded me that winter was still in charge.

We came upon a man with a camera mounted on a tripod, using a telephoto lens. I was reminded of how Jim must have loved observing and capturing his great, close-up photos of birds and other wildlife in the same way. Anyone who loves to spend time roaming the open fields, forests, and marshes, knows how tough it would be if you could no longer do that.

Last spring, Jim wrote these words in one of his last columns: “Bird migrations offer a lot more than the drama of seeing a whole bunch of birds on the move. For many species, the songs and calls they make on the journey characterize the migration as much as the spectacle. Who can ever forget the nostalgic sound of geese as they fly overhead on a crisp autumn day? Fortunately, many of those migrating birds provide a brilliant musical interlude in spring as well as fall.”

I hope you can all get out and enjoy the spring migration. Watch, listen, and enjoy, as nature comes alive again after this long winter. While you’re enjoying the return of spring, remember Jim Solberg, the Ridgerunner, who gave us his wonderful observations of the natural world around us.

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