Michigan Junket: Escanaba to Mackinaw City

Mackinac Bridge

Pics The sun was shining when we checked out of our Best western room on Tuesday morning, so we were looking forward to our drive to Mackinaw City.

Hamilton Hotel from the ferry dock.

The road was busier than we had anticipated, and Bob passed dozens of cars along the way, between the designated passing zones. We stopped a couple of times before the Mackinac Bridge to enjoy the lakeshore and admire the beautiful suspension bridge from a distance.

We decided to check into our hotel early, so that we wouldn't be scrambling for a room at the end of the day. Bob had picked  the Hamilton Hotel for its location directly on the beach, beside the ferry dock. Our beautiful, brand new room was inexpensive ($109), partly because of a $30 AAA coupon. We both thought it was the greatest beachfront room we had ever stayed in, surpassing even another favorite, the Monterey Beach Resort.

Michigan Junket: Crossing Wisconsin

Pics We got off to a fairly early start on Labor Day. The air was so full of moisture from the previous night's rain that I felt wet before we even loaded the car. I swept puddles off the deck and we finished our packing. Off at 8:28 and into Wisconsin before 9:00.

The day was overcast and ominous clouds filled the sky in the east. Sure enough, we did hit a few sprinkles from time to time but also saw a little sun. We took Hwy 51 north from Wausau but headed east earlier than usual, on Hwy 64. The two-way road was a little congested for part of the route, until Labor Day travelers branched off for Green Bay. Our only delays were due to route confusion around Eau Claire on Hwy 29 and a Hwy 64 detour that temporarily took us a little south of the main road.

Our decision to take Hwy 35 rather Hwy 41 up the coast from Menonomie, MI, was a little disappointing. We picked it for the "scenic route" along Lake Michigan, the most of the scenery was blocked by private properties along on the lake. By the time we entered the eastern time zone north of Fox, we were a little frazzled and ready to stop for the night.

Confusion ensued. I somehow figured that a Best Western in the AAA book was the same Escanaba motel as one we have stayed in seven years ago, on the Lake Michigan shore. By then it was pouring rain and we drove around, somewhat aimlessly, as I tried to follow the GPS and Bob was convinced that it was leading us away from the lake, which it was. We saw a couple of real dumps north of Escanaba and I imagined myself on a mildewed mattress watching the rain fall.

 By now, tensions were somewhat high. We followed GPS instructions back downtown, rejected the Comfort Suites (no restaurant) and ended up at Best Western, mostly because of the onsite restaurant, which was, in fact, closed for Labor Day. Damn.

Moods lightened with a little scotch & soda and a swim in the large, empty pool. No view, but a king bed with nice bedding was very comfortable.

Back on the Whitefish Chain

We left gloomy St. Paul on Tuesday morning and headed north. Who knew it would take a full hour to drive from St. Michael to St. Cloud? We heard on the news last night that locals don't use 94W for that usually short hop north, in fact, Michele Bachmann visited with Gov. Dayton yesterday to discuss the widening part of that bottlenecked section of I94.

Still, we checked into Manhattan Beach Lodge around 2:00 p.m. and had soon launched the boat at the public launch not far from the resort. Since my fake knee is older than Bob's by 6 months, I got the job of climbing into the boat from the trailer at the launch. I've done this only once or twice (in 30 years!) but I was able to get in easily and with confidence. I was lacking competence in the basic skills required, however, and I mean basic -- like unsnapping the bow cover.

My driving has improved so much that I wasn't terrified by the drive back to the resort to park the vehicle and trailer, or, rather, position the vehicle so the trailer could be parked. We enjoyed a beautiful afternoon on the Whitefish Chain, much sunnier than the overcast skies we had left at home.

The only challenge was getting out of the boat. For me, it was easier than in years past because I finally have two stable knees for the first time in 50+ years. However, the docks at the resort are shaky and, in my opinion, dangerously unstable. Bob was very hesitant and somewhat afraid of getting up on the dock. Fortunately, someone came along to help and Bob was, in fact, able to figure out his exit.

It was all very unnerving. This morning, I checked all the docks for stability by rocking each one gently and almost ended up in the drink myself. I set off a scary wave motion and ended up bending over to stabilize myself with my hands. An image of Nik Wallenda came into my head and I started feeling dizzy. Fortunately, I got my wits about me and was able to walk upright to the shore without totally disgracing myself.

A Long Ago Memory of Crow Wing County

I love to cross the line into Crow Wing County. The summer of my first year in Minnesota I thought of Crow Wing County as the gateway to the north, and the long drive would soon be over. Thirty years later, the ride north is on improved highways, and the area doesn't seem remote, as it did before cell phones, cable TV, and, more recently, wireless internet.

One of my first experiences was fighting for a camping spot at the Army Corps of Engineers Campground at Crosslake. For many years "getting a spot" meant waiting in line for hours outside the ranger station. That line extended out into the street, often in extreme heat.. Family members would often take turns standing in line and sometimes the "spot holding" or attempts to "budge" to a better position would create friction among the campers. I nearly got into a fight myself one time, though I quickly backed down and ceded the spot.

On one brutally hot afternoon we were unsuccessful in the wait game and ended up instead at Crow Wing Campground several miles down the road. We set up the heavy army tent and retired early on our cots. Bob and Chris quickly fell asleep: there was nothing to do and the Coleman lantern wasn't safe to light inside the tent, so even reading was out of the question. After sundown, the temperature quickly fell and I was soon freezing cold in my thin sleeping bag.

Eventually I went outside the tent. The sky was black, illuminated only by a full moon and a sea of stars. The night birds kept me company during the long, magical summer night. The next day we got our spot.

Although we haven't camped for a few years now, and our wireless devices reduce the sense of blessed remoteness, the Crow Wing County sign still signals the beginning of a pleasant stay in the north woods.

Dat's de Mississippi River

 Here begins the Mississippi River's  2552 mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico.
 

There are few tourists on this cloudy Monday afternoon: some family groups, including an older couple with children and grandchildren. The man looked like one of those Swedes or Norwegians who seemed to populate Minnesota when I first moved here 30 years ago: a stereotype, the kind of guy who wears overalls except for church on Sunday and sounds like an Ole and Lena joke.

He was  quiet until we the headquarters came into view, and then he stopped in his tracks and gestured toward the water. "Dat's de Mississippi River", he said reverently to no one in particular.

The view was awesome.

Caretaker Woman by Jeff Savage. Itasca State Park.

Women are the caretakers of the water in the Anishinabe tradition. Sculptor Jeff Savage's beautiful Caretaker Woman watches over the path that leads to the headwaters of the Mississippi River. The artist writes that she is a reflection in the headwaters, and her flowing hair represents the flowing currents of the water.

The river is about 800 feet from this point. The walk reminds me of the approach to Sacré-Coeur at the top of Montmartre in Paris, where anticipation increases just before the church comes into view. It feels like a holy place, and we stop for awhile at the little bridge over the creek where the great river begins it 2522 mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico.

Creator Spiritus

The north country is filled with the images and songs of the Creator. The colors and sounds of the land and water reflect the splendor of God, and I am at peace here in the north. The morning birds wake as dawn slips into being beyond the horizon, before the sun splashes light and heat upon the water.

In June, the days lengthen and the solstice is near. Brilliant greens and blues grace the day with the boldness of youth, and the Spirit whispers softly in the peaceful, black night.

Leech Lake

Leech Lake Lighthouse

Land of the Ojibwe, Leech Lake is always in the running as a destination for the Governor's Fishing Opener. I've always imagined it as full of, well, leeches, but I was very excited to stop near Walker for an introductory view of the big lake.

Not a leech in sight, but there were lots of mosquitoes (fish food, I think). A couple of fishing boats were visible from shore and large dead bass in the rocks was evidence that there are indeed fish in that huge lake.


Leech Lake

The wind blew and a chill filled the June afternoon.



Cabin Amenities

I can’t believe the wifi is fairly reliable, because nothing else is. I must be a little dim, because it took three spills on the end table beside the sagging (but comfy) couch before I realized that the table is broken. It’s one of those tables from the 50s with two levels, the lower one for magazines and junk shoved under the upper lamp level. In this case, one of the pressed board panels on the upper level  is separating from the other two, though it can be pressed back into place. The weight of the lamp and a cup of coffee must be too much for it.

Other discoveries: don’t pull too hard on the pull string that turns on the bathroom light; sit carefully to avoid tipping over the second “double” bed – it’s really a double mattress on a twin frame; the curtain rods are wedged into the frame with the broken handle of an old pan; each of the three mini-fridges has a different non-working component; reading is challenging with a 25-watt bulb.

Round Lake Boat Adventure

Early this morning, I announced that I would NOT be swimming at our little beach. David told us yesterday that kids had thrown rocks in the water so the beach would not be sandy all over. Well, I think it’s taken a century of kids to fill the swimming area with rocks, and it is far too shallow for my taste.

Instead, we went to a public ramp on Round Lake, about 28 miles away. An easy launch, and we enjoyed being out on the water, though the “roundness” of it, and the predictable housing on its shores were a little boring for Bob. We had packed roast beef sandwiches for lunch but instead stopped at Famous Dave’s (the original one) for lunch. I liked the Moose Drool dark beer and enjoyed watching some Olympic swimming.

Several boats were stopped at a sand bar where people were swimming, but Bob preferred to let me have my swim back at the boat ramp, where I had to watch out for boat traffic. No matter: keeps me on my toes. The water was clear and cool. The afternoon was fun and we will now have roast beef sandwiches for supper.

The shack was very hot when we returned at the end of the afternoon. We brought our drinks outside and are watching late afternoon golfers. I’m hoping for some wildlife but so far all we’ve seen are a couple of wild turkeys (not us) and a deer running across the highway.

Coffee Mishap

We haven’t rented a cabin for many years. As I looked for coffee and filters, I remembered the early years of our marriage when we didn’t have much money, and a week at “the lake” was our vacation. I’ve been too spoiled by years of Hiltons and pricey ocean views. I was soon brought back to reality when I knocked over the cone and coffee dust sprayed all over the carpeted floor. I spouted swear words I didn’t know were in my vocabulary; Bob laughed loudly. “The vacuum’s in the corner”, he said, referring to the broom and dust pan. Cleaned up the mess and we are now enjoying Dunn Brothers brew in the woods.

Morning MIst

Slept soundly until I was awakened by cold feet, the first time I’ve been chilly in months. Went out to take some pictures shortly after six, thinking I was alone in the still of early morning, until I got down to the lake and saw a golfer practicing his swing in the distance. The mist was floating above the water and bullfrogs sang in the reeds. God was near.

Dinner at the Chippewa Inn

Many miles on County Road B at dusk ended with a pretty good meal at the Chippewa Inn after dismissing what the property owner referred to as “the redneck bar”. We had hoped to sit at the bar and watch the Olympic coverage but it was “drinkers only”, so we opted for food. We were immediately served a relish tray with carrots, radishes, celery, hot cherry peppers, pickled herring, cheese dip, liverwurst and an assortment of crackers. We split the fish & chips, substituting a baked potato for the chips. I was surprised to enjoy a half decent glass of cabernet sauvignon. We rode home in the dark, guided by the GPS, a gift to Bob from the boys a couple of years ago.

Barker Lake Lodge

The WiFi network name is “VIRUS THREAT”. The owners don’t want leeches lined up outside the hot spot looking for internet service. I am amazed that the old Vaio can pick up the signal.

It was a long ride to Barker Lake Lodge, but I didn’t get concerned until we drove several miles along a gravel road named “Hemlock Lane”. The “lodge” appeared to be (and, in fact, was) off limits, so we followed a hand lettered sign to the “office”, where we were immediately ushered out and pointed toward Cabin 5. I struggled onto the deck, built (or plunked) several feet off the ground. Tripped over the step to get into the unlocked cabin. A familiar smell (exterminator) transported me back to some of the hovels I occupied in Montreal when I was in my 20s. Bob has never lived in a slum and does not know that odor. Whoever created the Barker Lake Lodge website did a very creative job with the pics of the "amenities".

Our host, David Palmer, rode over to Cabin 5 on his 1950s era Cushman after we’d moved in our things. There is no firewood, no ice, no fire ring and the lodge is unavailable because it’s been rented for a family reunion. Olympic coverage begins in a few minutes.  I have already had one stiff drink and am working on my second.  I am grateful to have a good tempered husband who isn’t blaming me for leading him to this hell hole. I know why Chicago gangsters came here in the 1920s: what law enforcement on earth would follow them here!

We can’t launch our boat here at the lodge, and the lake does NOT connect to Chippewa Flowage as the map seems to indicate. Not unless you intend to walk through the passage, that is. It is rocky and shallow, perhaps partly navigable by canoe. Bob settled on boating in Round Lake tomorrow, a dozen or so miles away.

I’ve moved from the deck to a picnic table facing our neighbor’s truck. For the first time in my life, I’m thinking seriously of taking up golf. The course behind me is empty, maybe because it’s located in a cow pasture. Looks like a good place for a novice to take up the sport.

In recent years, I’ve felt a little wistful thinking about my long ago youth, spent in the north woods. I’m in the north woods this evening, and am a little less nostalgic.

North Shore of Lake Superior - July 2-3 2011

After the cool spring, summer hit with a vengeance on July 1. The Corvette and crew left for the North Shore shortly after 9 Saturday morning for a pleasant and uneventful journey. Fortunately, we didn't need a break along the way, because all rest stops were closed due to the Minnesota state government shutdown. Highway 23 out of Askov was as beautiful as ever, only a little more traveled than usual on this double holiday weekend, including both Canada Day and the Fourth of July.

We stopped at Grandma's for lunch and split a walleye sandwich. Canal Park was already sweltering and for the first time in many visits I didn't need a jacket by the water. We glided through Gitch-Gammi Park outside Duluth, packed with holiday picnickers and visitors. I was surprised to check into our room shortly after 2 -- we usually have to wait at least an hour when we arrive so early. Although I was somewhat deflated to see our rather barebones room (122-1) on the first floor, with only the slightest view of the lake a few hundred yard away, the location was, in fact ideal.

We headed to the outdoor pool almost immediately and spent the rest of the afternoon in the water. By the time we got back to our room, a bride and groom were walking across the little bridge from the beach to their reception. Nathan and Lindsey had 60-70 guests who were fun to watch throughout the afternoon and evening. At around 7, the bridal couple left their reception for photographs on the beach. Lindsey was a very determined bride. systematically staging every possible pose. At one point I thought she would wade into the lake in her dress, but she seemed satisfied with a couple of photos seated on the beach with her new husband, who seemed somewhat less enthusiastic than she with the multitude of photo ops. The newlyweds even stopped to pet a beautiful little puppy walking on the beach, a truly spontaneous and exuberant encounter.

Our dinner at the hotel's Kamloops restaurant was, at best, mediocre. Unfortunately, a quick drive into Two Harbors led us to the town's great Dairy Queen where we succumbed to the temptation of a blizzard (Bob) and cone (me). We both had an early bedtime: "a good thing" because Bob was like a little kid in the morning, ready for an early start.

I felt as though I was on a bus tour when I returned from the beach, where I took a few pictures shortly after dawn. I had hoped for a morning swim but daylight was already burning in Bob's mind and there was no time for my own ablutions, as Bob was already showered and packed. We were the first to check out at about 8 AM.

We drove up the shore to Gooseberry Falls where we had to park on the side of the road, because all state parks are closed until the shutdown ends. The visit was fortuitous, though, because we walked to the upper falls which we haven't visited for many years, since we usually walk down the hill to the lower falls. The wildflowers were in full bloom and the chilly spray from the falls blew lightly over us. Only a few people were in the park and the quiet was majestic and almost spiritual.

Our trip home was easy, with little traffic. This was one of our most enjoyable visits to the beautiful North Shore.

Manhattan Beach Sunday

On Sunday morning, we awoke to a sunny sky, calm lake and promise of a beautiful day at Manhattan Beach Lodge on the Whitefish chain. Bob and I went to 7:30 Mass where I succumbed to the temptation of looking at the pictures on my camera during the homily. I felt quite undetected until Bob's reprimand: he accused me -- wrongly, I think -- of distracting the assembled faithful. So much for that caper.

After breakfast at Pine Peaks, we launched the boat and I made my little contribution to the effort by driving the Traverse and trailer back from the ramp to Manhattan Beach. This is the task that filled me with terror as recently as two years ago, so I'm inordinately proud of  this achievement that could easily be managed by a new driver.

We were eager to get out on the lake, empty now, except for a few fishermen. Ever optimistic, I wore long pants and several jacket layers over my swimsuit (how crazy am I?), I took my favorite spot in the bow. John, Trudy and the boys soon joined us, but by then the sky was totally overcast and while the boat ride was fun, we were all chilled and returned to the dock before noon.

We all -- Bob, Scott, Meggan, John, Trudy, Adam, Mitchell, Chris and I -- spent the afternoon on the grass on chairs borrowed from the restaurant patio. In the early afternoon, we were joined by Matt Beam and his girlfriend, Leann. Scott and Adam hauled over a portable fire ring We gathered firewood and Scott built a fire; the resort dock staff weren't working in the inclement weather but there were plenty of boats looking for space, so Mitchell entertained himself with dock boy duties that earned him $13, as well as a good education in customer service. One of Mitchell's customers, a former dock boy himself, taught him to tie what looked like a clove hitch. I was disappointed not to be on the water, but the afternoon was very pleasant and entertaining.

After an afternoon of beverages and snacks, the weather hadn't cleared so the boys took a couple of quick rides and both Scott and John pulled their boats out of the water. By then, it was after 7 and we ended up staying at Manhattan Beach for dinner. Although the meal got off to a rocky start with a long wait for a table, we had a half decent meal. The best server in the restaurant brought drinks, bread and salad/soup very quickly and my frustration dispelled. A pleasant evening.

We woke up to more rain and I don't think the forecast of 80+ degrees is accurate. Everyone else is packing up to leave but we are scheduled to stay another night. With wind, more rain and T-storms in store later in the day, I would rather go home, but of course traffic may be horrendous and we may stay the night, as planned.

Eagles have Landed

Pulled into Crosslake around 2:30 CDT and stopped at Holiday for gas and night crawlers. The boat was exhibiting its usual recalcitrance and Bob couldn't get gas in the tank, so he disconnected the trailer from the boat and cranked to raise the bow, knowing from experience that gas would flow better in this position. Usually under these circumstances we are at a gas dock and my task is to sit in the stern and weigh the boat down, thereby achieving a similar objective.

I was summoned into action just as I was depositing the plastic container of worms in the cooler, carefully ensuring that none of the worm bedding overflowed onto the ice. My job was to keep the trailer from rolling backward. Other customers felt obliged to comment on the gasoline spilled liberally under the trailer, or note that the trailer was disconnected from the car. Very loudly.

Fortunately, I knew none of these people but, just in case, I proclaimed assertively that I had never seen Bob before in my life and had been accosted by him to lean against the boat! A strictly temporary assignment.

We turned on the weather after checking in: tornadoes near the Twin Cities but, fortunately, the worst here seems to be moderately heavy winds.

I think we'll wait till tomorrow to launch the boat. Heading outside now to enjoy the beautiful view.

94 Westbound - Mile Marker 190

Our first junket of the season to central Minnesota was delayed at mile marker 190 of  Highway 94 this morning shortly after we left home. It was the Traverse's first serious outing and performance seemed to be optimal until we heard the unmistakable sound of a tire in distress. At first, Bob thought the noise was coming from the boat trailer, but a quick roadside investigation revealed an almost totally deflated left rear tire on the Chevy. Ironically, Bob's decision to trade in the Yukon had been accelerated by its need for new tires! Worthy of note: the GMC's tires were problem free for the 6-1/2 years he had that vehicle.

The OnStar subscription that was included with the new car was activated. The same competent voice we've heard in commercials was transmitted via the speaker and we were soon connected to a Chevrolet call center. Within a few minutes, we were promised roadside assistance within 40 minutes. Sure enough, a big yellow rig arrived right on schedule and the operator plugged the large nail hole, so that we were soon on our way. Stranded for less than an hour!

We sat in the car with seat belts on while trucks and other vehicles whizzed by us, some dangerously close. We were grateful for those who moved out a lane, for good weather, sunlight and bright flashers on both the car and the boat. We continued our journey in the wind, passing through a little rain on the way. An eventful beginning to this Memorial Day Weekend.

Rainstorm at Minnesota Landscape Arboretum

The spring blooms might have been at their peak this weekend if the unremitting rain hadn't washed the blossoms off flowering trees, or it the sun had come out long enough to shine on the thousands of tulips, daffodils and other spring flowers.


I had never visited the Arboretum in spring and was looking forward to this field trip, even though the sky darkened ominously as we approached Chanhassen. Thankfully, we were in the Traverse, not the Corvette -- I thought to myself that we would be safer if this scary sky yielded a tornado. By the time we went through the gates, there was no question of walking 3-Mile Drive. A few unsuspecting Japanese tourists bravely walked with their umbrellas, cheerfully taking pictures of one another as the rain got heavier and heavier. We followed the open-sided tram through the grounds.

I took a few pictures from the patios of the Visitor Center, and managed to stay quite dry. We stopped at Fort Snelling State Park to see the deer (total count: 1) and went to Lucky's in Mendota Heights for a beer and a bite. By the time we got home, we could hear tornado sirens in Minneapolis and watched the weather on TV. At least two confirmed touchdowns, one in Brooklyn Park and the other in North Minneapolis. The sky has lightened and the storm in now south of Forest Lake. It's been an exciting day for weather watchers.

St. Croix Afternoon

The predicted rain missed the Twin Cities and we enjoyed a warm, slightly overcast day. Light lunch and a beer at Pier 500. When Bob commented on the high water, the bartender said he didn't consider it "high" until it was over the road in front of the bar. While the river was still far from the road, all the picnic tables in the park were underwater.

The Stillwater lift bridge was still open so we crossed into Minnesota and took a couple of pics. The water didn't look more than a foot or two from the bridge. Since the temperatures have warmed so much, waters may rise again in the next couple of weeks.

Flood Run - Saturday, April 2

No skiers at Welch Village.

Twin Cities temperatures have been way below normal in the last couple of weeks, and the predicted record flooding has not come to pass. And that's a very good thing.

Most rivers and lakes crested last week and we set out to view water levels in the beautiful river towns between St. Paul and Lake City. Our route took us past South St. Paul, where the snow has melted to a brown, tundra-like landscape, and the Mississippi looks overfilled and just barely contained by its banks. I finally tried driving the Traverse and found it similar to my long ago Dodge Grand Caravan. I turned the wheel back to Bob in Hastings, at Lock & Dam #2. The river isn't much higher than it was last weekend, but most of the ducks and geese seem to have left their winter open water -- for nesting sites, maybe?


We took one of our favorite side trips to the Welch Village area. The hills are still patchy with snow, looking more like late winter than early spring, and an undemanding skier could still get a few runs in, though no lifts were in operation.

A usually gentle trout stream rushed merrily toward its destination -- the Cannon River, I suppose. We  drove into Red Wing past the Red Wing Construction company, down the hill past the train station to the river. The park was mostly underwater and closed to traffic. A solitary mallard dived for food right beside me and seemed unaware of my presence.

we turned back home at Lake City. The river was as high as I've ever seen it. Ice hasn't yet melted in the marina area. Most unusual: there were no boats on the water on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Sailboats are still in dry dock and launches are all underwater. We couldn't resist a stop in Prescott, where fishing boats were positioned under and near the railroad bridge, undeterred by high water.