June 20, 2013, Back Home, Again.

June 20, 2013,  Back Home, Again.  The barn picture tells you that we must be on the road again.  We are.  We have driven home from Door County, Wisconsin.  That's the best picture I have for this section of the trip and the final blog entry for the spring, 2013 trip. 

So, by the numbers:  the total number of miles driven was 2770; our average speed on the trip was 60.8 miles per hour; we averaged 15.1 miles per gallon; the total fuel used was 189 gallons; the lowest-priced gasoline was in Kansas City at Quick Trip, $3.39 per gallon; the most expensive gas was in Copper Harbor, MI, $4.75 per gallon; the total cost of gasoline was between $700-$800.  We were gone a total of 24 days and I can't think of one we didn't enjoy.  All told, it was a very good trip even though much of it was to areas we've visited before.

Now, we'll start thinking about the fall trip.  We are mulling several options such as returning to New England or driving the Blue Ridge Trail along the Appalachian Mountains.  Or, it could be something altogether different. 

Thanks for dropping by.  We'll be back in the fall.  So long for now. 

June 18, 2013. A Colorful Last Day in Door County.

 

 

June 18, 2013.  A Colorful Last Day in Door County.  We will leave with the rising sun in the morning.  It has been a relaxing three-plus weeks in the Northwoods of Wisconsin and Michigan and Door County in particular.  People will ask, "What did you do?"  We really don't know.  We didn't write the great American novel.  We didn't discover any new life-saving drugs.  We didn't do anything great.  The only good thing we did was renew ourselves.  That is enough. 

We did make one final trip to Wilson's Restaurant this evening for another lick of ice cream.  We took our ice cream across the street and sat on a bench overlooking the dock of the bay.  The water was still and there was little traffic moving on the street.  There were a few boaters returning to the dock from an evening of fishing.  One small dingy departed the dock with a fisherman and his dog aboard.  The sun was low in the west and the water was still.  We were stirred by chimes originating from one of the church steeples I've shown you on these pages.  At first, I thought they were chiming the hour.  Then, I realized it was music.  Within the first few notes, we knew it was Annie's favorite hymn, How Great Thou Art.  It was perfect timing and perfect music to cap a perfect evening and a wonderful trip. 

I'll try to wrap all this up when we get home, sometime later this week.  In the meantime, I thought you might enjoy seeing what we've seen this week.  Here is colorful Door County. 

June 17, 2013. Barns, Churches and Charm.

June 17, 2013.  Barns, Churches and Charm.  I have told you why I like barns and why I take so many pictures of them.  I don't have to tell you why I like scenes or objects which reflect a certain level of charm.  I don't really know why I take pictures of churches.  Perhaps it stems from some subconscious urge to project spirituality.  Perhaps, I just like the architecture, the angles, the purity of shape.  Perhaps, there is just a certain majesty in a steeple reaching to the heavens.  Your guess is as good as mine.  In any event, it is clear that I have favorite photographic subjects while on the road.  You'll have to figure out what it means.  Mysteries of that sort are above my pay grade. 

My friend, Fred, used to own a barber's chair.  He may still have it.  I have always admired and thought I might like to have one in front of the television at home.  Annie tells me that a barber's chair doesn't match our decor.  She's in charge of things inside the house - and outside, for that matter - so I have no barber's chair. 

But, I saw the one shown above today at a shop in Ellison Bay.  It was a bargain at $695.  The last chair Annie selected for our TV room costs considerably more.  So, I lingered in front of the chair until she came back around.  I nodded my head toward the chair.  She shook her head and kept walking.  I guess I'll just have to continue to admire Fred's chair. 

The stone works you see are the remains of an ancient fountain.  A pipe emerges from the back of the arch.  At one time, water from a spring gushed from the pipe.  It is no longer functional but stands as a relic from the past glories of this area.

One more day here, then back to the real world where we get up at the same time every day and do the same things, then go to bed at the same time every night.  I don't know why there is security in sameness, do you?   But, there must be.  I did it for more than forty years and I still do it from time to time.  Odd, that.  Shouldn't we be seeking variety?  Why don't you think about that and I will, too.

June 16, 2013. Good Fences Make Good Neighbors.

June 16, 2013.  Good Fences Make Good Neighbors.  Today's title is from another Robert Frost poem.  Frost wrote Mending Wall in 1914, nearly 100 years ago.  Another line from the poem is, "Before I built a wall I'd ask to know what I was walling in or walling out."  Those lines came rushing back to me as I looked again at the stone fences lining Cottage Row in Fish Creek in the top two photos above.  We returned to the road today as part of our two-hour bike ride.  I wondered when the fence was built and by whom.  And, I wondered what the builder was walling in or walling out. 

Our time here is winding down.  We have two more days before starting south for home.  The drive home is a leisurely two-day drive or an long one-day drive.  A "barn-sour horse" is one who knows when he is returning to the barn and gains speed on the way.  There is something about the comfort of a barn and fresh oats that a horse remembers.  That pretty well describes us.

I met Albert, a traveler from England, this morning at the camp showers.  He had a very pronounced British accent and an even more pronounced stutter.  He told me that he and his wife have been spending six months in the United States since 2008.  I asked what he did in his work life.  He said he was a "big truck" mechanic, just an everyday working stiff.  He read the puzzlement on my face and volunteered that he took his life savings out of the stock market in January 2008, before the recession began.  He bought US dollars with it at a time when you could get two dollars for a British pound.  Now, he says, you would get less than $1.25 for a pound. 

He said they came here expecting to stay six months and that would be that.  But, they fell in love with the former English colony and have returned each year for another six months.  He and his wife travel in a fifth wheel, which they store here when they return to England.  They have traveled to 48 states, missing only Iowa and Minnesota.  They are leaving for Minneapolis today and will visit Iowa while they are close. 

He said that people tell him that he is lucky to have taken his money when he did.  He says it wasn't luck, that he foresaw the financial collapse by watching the world markets very carefully.  He said it was wisdom, not luck.  I told him he was lucky to be so wise.  I wished him well and invited him to come back in six months.  He said he planned to do just that. 

His is a feel-good story when so many are still recovering from the recession.  Many lost half their savings and are facing the prospect of working into their seventies to make up what they lost.  It is nice to know that some weathered the storm very well.  It provides hope for the rest of us, that we might be one of the wise ones next time. 

June 15, 2013. Biking in the Rain to Fish Creek.

June 15, 2013.  Biking in the Rain to Fish Creek.  The morning looked okay.  I checked the weather on my phone and read that rain was likely this afternoon.  But, the morning showed clear.  So, we climbed aboard the bikes and road into Fish Creek, about four miles from our campsite.  

Annie wanted to ride the road and I wanted to ride the trail through the woods.  “But, it has hills and mosquitoes,” she argued.

“Oh, baloney,” said I, “there’s just one little hill where we cross the road.  You can handle that.” 

Against her better judgment, she followed me as I set out on the trail.  A half-mile later, we mounted the hill by the road.  I peddled furiously and made the peak without dismounting the bike.  I looked back and Annie was pushing her bike up the hill with a look of growing distrust on her face.

“I told you about this one,” I reminded her self-righteously.  She frowned, then remounted.  Four-hundred yards further, there was another hill.  “I don’t remember this one,” I smiled weakly.  Another frown.  Then, five-hundred yards further, there was another . . . and, another . . .  and, another.  I stopped looking back.  I knew what awaited me.

After the 6^th or 7^th hill, I waited at the top as she pushed her bike up.  It is better to take your licking like a man I was taught.  She pushed her bike past me without a word.  That isn’t good.  I thought, “She’s too mad to talk to me.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s the last one,” I said, trying to begin a dialogue.  Silence. 

We finished the trail without additional inclines.  As we pulled onto the road, she started one of those, “Don’t you ever . . . !" conversations.  Did I say “conversation”?  A conversation it was not.  Only one of us talked and, boy that girl can talk!  Next time, we’ll take the road. 

We made it to town without further incident.  We went to the harbor to watch the boats come and go.  The boaters knew something we didn’t.  They didn’t come and they didn’t go.  They just sat in the harbor.  Hummm.

I got a BB gun for Christmas when I was 8 or 9.  The first thing I did was go outside to hunt birds.  I spotted a sparrow sitting on a limb, singing.  I took a bead on him and fired.  My innocent victim fell to the ground lifeless.  I walked over and picked up its limp body.  I felt a wave of sickness as I felt the soft, downy victim of my mean-spiritedness.  The bird had done nothing but sing, and I killed it for no reason. 

I never shot another songbird.  When circumstances allowed it, I began to feed birds in our yard.  It was and is an act of atonement.  It is as if I can, somehow, make up for the senseless killing of a sparrow nearly sixty years ago.

It isn’t unusual for me to spend hundreds of dollars each winter to feed birds.  Still, I feel like it is my duty.  Duty is important.

So, we were sitting on a park bench, watching the boats not coming and going when I felt something warm and wet hit my arm.  It was nasty.  I looked up and there was a sparrow sitting on the limb above me.  I figure he is a migratory descendant of that sparrow I shot on Christmas day.  It was a message from birddom that my atonement isn’t complete.  I suppose I’ll buy more bird feed next winter. 

We stopped at one of the stores where I encouraged Annie to buy something she liked - anything to take her mind off the hills on the trail through the woods.  She was in the store thirty minutes and when she emerged, the rains came.  It was then that I knew what the boaters knew that we didn't.  We were four miles from Harvey.  So, we rode through the rain to the campsite. 

That was my Saturday.  How was yours?

June 14, 2013. Ephraim Eats and Surprises.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

June 14, 2013. Ephraim Eats and Surprises.  As advertised, we changed campsites this morning, then headed to Ephraim.  First, we revisited the Door County Bakery for lunch and desserts.  We then visited the Hardy Gallery, a graffiti-covered warehouse on the shore of the Green Bay.  The graffiti tradition began when the captains of ships docking there scribbled the name of their ship on the warehouse siding.  The warehouse in now an art gallery in the summer, but people are encouraged to contribute to the graffiti. 

 

You will notice that one person proposed to his girlfriend there.  She accepted I was told.  As we circled the warehouse, I noticed a young couple with two children and an older couple who appeared to be grandparents.  I learned the couple's names were Trevor and Kelly.  They had written their names on the wall when they got married.  They returned to add the names of their two children when they were born.  While Kelly's parents were in the gallery, Trevor tacked a sign announcing the birth of their third child in December of this year.  And, that's how Kelly told her parents that she was expecting again.  With a trembling lower lip her father embraced her.  Her mother, crying with joy did likewise.  It was a neat moment in the life of their family.  And, it obviously was a surprise for Kelly's parents. 

 

We walked around Ephraim, allowing our lunch to settle before trying the ice cream at Wilson's Restaurant.  The flowers here add color and beauty everywhere.  Many of those shown here were at the Green Gable shops.  Annie would point out something for me to photograph.  I took many more pictures than you see here.  But, these will give you the flavor of the area. 

 

Fred and Anna recommended Wilson's to us.  It is a very popular place.  The parking lot was filled until after 2:00 PM.  I asked for a double dip on a waffle cone.  What I got was a double-double.  The nice young lady behind the old time ice cream counter stuffed four scoops of ice cream into the cone.  It was about half the size of my head.  Annie, demonstrating disgusting restraint, ordered only a single dip.  She got two.  The total bill was about $8.00, cheap for a place which caters to tourists.  Neither of us could eat dinner tonight.  But tomorrow is another day.  I will live to eat again.  And, I will live to eat ice cream at Wilson's again . . . this trip. 

 

June 13, 2013. Back to Door County.

 

 

 

June 13, 2013.  Back to Door County.  We left Tahquamenon Falls early this morning and arrived in Door County shortly after noon today.  We will be here tonight and five more, then head home. 

We are in a non-electric campsite tonight.  We'll move tomorrow to a different campsite which has electricity and remain there for the duration.  Tonight, we are essentially "dry camping".

We walked to the beach before dinner tonight.  I found some red columbines to go with the barn pictures.  There's also a photo of Lake Michigan over a field of grain.  And, there is a boy fishing off a rock.  That's what a boy should do while camping.  The picture tells an idyllic story of summertime in America. 

So, why are we back in Door County?  I told you we needed to make another trip to Sweetie Pies.  And, one of our oldest friends told us about his favorite ice cream place in Ephriam.  So, we drove 300 miles to check it out.  Well, he is a really good friend.  We had to do it. 

June 12, 2013. Tahquamenon Falls State Park, Upper Peninsula, Michigan.

 

 

 

 

 

June 12, 2013.  Tahquamenon Falls State Park, Upper Peninsula, Michigan.  TFSP is reputed to be the crown jewel of the Michigan state park system.  It is nice in many respects.  The showers are new and clean.  It offers two different water falls.  The lower falls are a series of five 3-10 foot drops which appear to my eye more of a cascade than a falls.  The upper falls is unmistakably a water fall, with a 48-foot vertical drop.  The water is tinged brown from the tannins carried by the Tahquamenon River.  Tannins are organic matter which drains from the swamps and low-lying areas which feed the river.  The various placards placed around the falls say that the water is not unsafe, that fish taken from the river may be safely eaten. 

I took a series of pictures utilizing slow to fast shutter speeds.  The faster speeds were 1/1000^th of a second.  That speed freezes the water droplets as they plummet to the rocks below.  I also shot at 1/200th of a second and then at the slowest shutter speed of 1/15^th of a second.  At the slowest speed, the rushing water looks white, like ice.  I had fun playing with the camera. 

It was a struggle to get Annie here.  For several reasons she didn’t want to come.  First, this is the black bear capital of Michigan, or so the signs say.  I don’t need to remind you of Annie’s fear of bears.  The sight of a 25-pound cub would send her screeching and screaming to the nearest tree.  Can’t you just imagine Annie being chased up a tree by a cute little bear cub.  Second, she imagined that this was a primitive area, with dirt roads and winding dirt trails through dark and scary woods inhabited by flesh-eating creatures.  The only undesirable creatures we’ve encountered are the mosquitoes.  There are a gazillion of them and, while they don’t eat flesh, they will suck the blood out of you. 

But, TFSP is a lovely park of tall pines, sugar maples and beech trees.  The roads are paved and, away from the falls, it is serenely quiet.  TFSP is just ten miles down the road from the aptly named Paradise, Michigan, just a few miles from Whitefish Bay on Lake Superior. 

Two years ago, Angie made a CD of great music for us to listen to as we drove to Alaska.  One of the songs on the CD is Cheeseburger in Paradise by Jimmy Buffet.  I was playing the CD as we reached the city limits of Paradise.  The Buffet song began playing just as we entered town.  We spent ten minutes looking for a cheeseburger place.  There are no cheeseburgers in Paradise, Michigan.  Jimmy must have been singing about a different paradise. 

There is no Internet signal here.  I am typing this on the 12^th of June, but it won’t be published until tomorrow.  Those of you who arise ten minutes early to rush to your computers will be disappointed.  It is not my fault.  And, I am probably the only person who arises ten minutes early to read what I wrote the night before.  At my age, I only need one newspaper per week.  By the next morning, I will have forgotten yesterday's news and I can just read it over again.  Besides, the news never changes.  All that changes is the location of the robberies, fires and collisions.  By buying only one paper per week, I save money.  Clever, huh?