August 31st: Back on the road again

Well, I think "check out" time will be around 11AM again.  That's when I think I'll have the car packed up again and be ready to head out.  My next real destination is Asheville, but it will take me 5 nights and 6 days drive to get there from here.  300 miles in a day is about my limit and according to Google maps the route I've chosen, using county roads again rather than highways, should allow me to keep within my limits and see a lot of small town America.  First stop tonight is Kenton, Oklahoma and the Black Mesa B&B.  When I called to confirm the reservation, the husband was out literally mucking the barn and couldn't take down my information.  His wife later told me to be sure and have dinner before I arrive as there are NO restaurants or stores anywhere close by.  I checked the weather there.  It is also going to be in the high 90's.  Should be interesting!

I have fallen in love with Santa Fe.  I always liked it a lot.  In the past I've stayed in hotels in the historic district and enjoyed the walking around.  I think the preservationists and zoning czars are terrific keeping the city center unique, human scale, and beautiful. This time, however, with a house in the hills just 2 miles from the city, and with a car and friends, we have done and seen so much more.  The opera, it's setting on the high plateau, a spa developed to look for all the world like the hills outside Kyoto and succeeding, the fiber arts trail with its colors and textures, and of course, the galleries, shops and restaurants in the city and its surrounding towns have each provided their own pleasures and joys.  Nothing disappointed.  Nothing.  (Well, one restaurant wasn't as good as we expected.  It was fine, but we've been eating so extraordinarily well, just good isn't good enough.)   Even the weather, cool, dry air, hot sunshine, cold nights, a touch of brief rain now and again to clear the dust from the air, how perfect is that!

I didn't mention it before, but I am getting a souvenir of this trip.  Julie and I went into town to walk Canyon Road, the famous art gallery district, and we got hooked by an artist in the very first gallery we entered.  Each of us ended up purchasing a painting.  They will be shipped to Boston.  Mine should arrive a few days after I do and it is a major reason to look forward to returning home. It is a significant work of art - a major and unexpected stretch for my pocketbook, but I will soon be turning 65 so it will be my present to myself.  I think, were Chip alive, he would approve.

Sante Fe

I am having trouble sleeping here.  I'm not sure why; perhaps it's the altitude; perhaps it's all the stimulation.  I lay in bed each night thinking about all the sights, sounds, and experiences since arriving here. 

First some pictures of this house:

The grounds

The house is classic adobe style with a long portal and vigas supporting all the ceilings. You enter through large wooden double doors into a good sized circular hallway.  To yourright is a den and entrance to the garage.  TO your left, the house stretches out long with 2 bedrooms on each end and the common rooms ( kitchen, dining room, living room) in the middle. There are two bathrooms, one on each end of the house and each with doors that open into the indoor pool area which runs the length of the back of the house.

The indoor warming pool and lap pool

  The pool is seperated into a warming pool and the lap pool and both have a cover that is  easy to roll up or down to keep the water at a lovely warm temperature.  There is also a hot tub that is outside, up in the garden area.

The house is well furnished and equipped with washerdryer, multiple TVs, a modern kitchen with loads of kitchenware, etc.  All in all, very comfortable.

The view from the living room

 OK, that's the house. What about the people?   It occured to me in the middle of one sleepless night that I haven't really introduced you to all the people here in the house, so here goes.


Any description of the people here has to begin with Sterling, my brother-in-law.  He is the force behind our being here and the center of our little group.  Sterling couldn't be more different from his brother (and my husband) Chip.  Whereas Chip was all about sports, Sterling is all about the arts.  He moved to NYC for college and stayed there ever since; and he now lives the quintessential New York lifestyle, cabbing about town,  attending performances of opera, theater, or music several times each week, and getting together often with members of a close circle of friends with whom he enjoys discovering new restaurants or frequenting old favorites.  More significantly, for me at least, since Chip's death in 2004, he has been a brother to me with more love and caring than I would ever have imagined.  It is he who offered me the chance to come here and share his love of opera.

Liam in the pool

Sterling's partner Liam is another member of our party.  He is a tall, broad shouldered and handsome man, self-effacing with a quick wit and considerate manner.  He is always aware of each of us and ready to help with whatever our needs might be.  There is a manner about Liam that immediately puts others at ease, feeling welcome and appreciated.  He is the go-to guy in the house whenever something goes wrong or someone needs help.

Sterling and Will enjoying the warming pool

These two are the humans owned by two mini-dachunds - Mae and Will. Mae, named after Sterling's Mom, is slender and full of kisses for anyone, but she never asks permission for whatever it is she wants to do. She knows her mind, thank you very much, and follows it and then asks for forgiveness, if any is needed, afterward. Will, named after Liam's Dad, is quite the opposite.  He is  unusual looking because of  a coat the color and thickness of English clotted cream.  And he uninterested in anything or anyone other than his humans.  Will is the baby crying to be held, crying if one of the guys goes out of sight, crying to be cuddled.  Mae will come and sleep with me at night.  Will couldn't care less if he never saw me again.  Together they are a striking pair continuously amusing us all.

Logan and Mae

Another long time friend of the family is Logan, a lawyer, a banker and a native American.  Think of every prejudice you have against lawyers and bankers, and then think of their opposites in temperament and personality and you have Logan.  He is among the most gentile and trustworthy persons I have ever had the good fortune to meet.  Unfortunately, he didn't join us until late Monday and he left Thursday morning to return to NYC.

Ester enjoying the cool grass (!) in Santa Fe

There are two other women in this house besides me.  One is Ester, an Arkansas native who adopted New York 40 years ago and became a driving force behind Sterling's business success years and years ago.  She has become a member of the family, with us for holidays and many special trips such as this one.   Generally quiet, be careful on the topic of politics when she will become agitated, erupting with emotion over the stupidity of so many of our elected officials and their equally obtuse policies.  And, unless you are quite sure of your abilities with words and strategy I warn you not to challenge this lady in a game of Scrabble.  You WILL lose, I assure you.

Julie outside Bobcat Bob's

And last, but by no means least, is Julie, an elegant and sophisticated woman I have known for over 20 years but only gotten to know over the past 2 or 3.  Julie was the wife of the man who hired me into my last job.  Jonathan, her husband and my boss, died suddenly and unexpectedly a few months before Chip died.  I am struck now, as I get to know Julie, at how similar we are in our tastes and wonder if perhaps that factored into why Jonathan hired me way back when.  Julie, like Red and like me, thinks nothing of packing her dog in her car and taking off for a 3000 mile journey across the country.  Julie and I have similar tastes in literature and art and food, tho she is far better educated in all these things than I.  I greatly enjoy her company and am quite pleased she wanted to come out and be with us for this week.

So we were three men ( now two ) three women and three dogs enjoying this week together.

OK, now you've got an idea of the house and the people.  So, how is it we spend out time?  Well, there is really no typical day, but here's an idea.  We each awake sometime between 7 and 9 and slowly make our way into the common living space.  Sterling or Logan will go out to see if the NY TIMES has yet arrived; Julie or I would put on a pot of coffee.  The dogs would count noses.  Each of us would wander into the kitchen to hunt out something appealing for breakfast - sometimes fruit and yogurt, sometimes granola, sometimes toast or a sweet bun.  Ester would go to the pool and swim for 30 minutes or more.  Between 10 and 11am we would begin to think about organizing the day.  One day Julie, Tramp and I went for a walk in the neighborhood; another day she and the guys took all the dogs out while I worked on this.  Sometimes the guys head out to the gym to work off last night's meals.  Time will be spent on computers doing emails or researching festivals or events that might be interesting to take in.   We  might go into Santa Fe to window shop before lunch or let the dogs run on some cool grass.   One day Julie and I spent an hour or more in just two shops - one with furniture and furnishings that were unusual, beautiful and oh, so tempting and another with a jewelry system where you buy semi-precious or precious stones and various settings where pieces are interchangeable and necklaces morph into rings or bracelets that can be simple or quite elaborate depending on how many pieces or parts you feel like building up, one on another.  It is a brilliant design.  However we'd do things, we'd generally all meet up together around noon or 1 for lunch. One day it was Mexican at the Cayote Cafe (I highly recommend this place for lunch or dinner) and we feasted on chips, smoky salsa, melted cheese, guacamole, and soups and salads.  Another day we ventured further to a hamburger joint recommended by our Tucson friend and burger afficionado.  (Boy does he know his burgers!) Another day the guys shopped and then put out and elaborate lunch of salads and cheeses and fruits and we sat on the patio with a friend of Sterling's from Manhatten who has been living in Taos for the past 10 years.

Most days, after lunch it's time to nap or read or otherwise relax, then before we know it we must shower and dress to go out to an early dinner and the opera.  Sterling, Liam and Ester attended 3 operas.  Julie and I went to two.

The Santa Fe opera festival theater is built into a high bluff.  It is covered with a roof reminiscent of billowing sails.  It is open on the sides.  You enter at parking lot level and walk down to your seats with the stage at the bottom open at its back to the setting sun.  The level of talent is remarkable - as good as you'd find anywhere in the world; and the production quality is also first rate.  Julie and I saw a relatively new opera called Albert Herring which is a comedy and Madame Butterfly which had me crying throughout the entire second act.  It is not an exaggeration to say it was one of the best productions of this opera that anyone in our party had ever seen - and this is a highly educated opera group.  The voices, the acting, the staging all equalled Puchini's extraordinary music.  After seeing that I really had no need or desire to see another opera.  Nothing else could be as wonderful.

On a day when Julie and I did not have opera tickets (A show neither or us particularly wanted to see) but the rest of the group did, we took off in the late morning to travel the New Mexico fiber arts trail.  We drove a loop of about 150 miles of this trail that meanders throughout New Mexico.  Here's how the trail is described in it's website:

To the north, back roads beckon, weaving along river valleys,



winding through velvet mountains and red rock canyons sculpted


by time, crossing plains that stretch as far as the eye can see. The


land speaks in textures. Sage, golden chamisa, violet asters, and


grasses cover the earth in a blanket of natural hues.
 
And this description really does capture it.  And it goes a long way in explaining why so many weavers - craftspeople and artists working in fibers - have chosen to set up their lives and their workshops in this area. First there were Pueblo Indian communities here; they were joined by Mexicans;now weavers from all over the country and possibly the world mix with the Indians and Mexicans to learn from each other and to experiment and share their love of the various fiber arts with each other and appreciative collectors and tourists.  They do everything here from raising the goats and sheep, to collecting the berries and other things used for dies, to building looms and, of course, weaving rugs and clothes and art pieces to hang on walls.  So, all along this beautiful roadway are workshops and home studios, yarn emporiums and galleries, schools and community centers waiting to greet the interested traveller and explain their processes and show their work.  We stopped at half a dozen places, met the weavers and learned about their art and craft, and bought some examples to enjoy back in our homes or give away to family and friends this coming Christmas.  It took us 8 or so hours to do this without a stop for lunch or dinner.  We came back thoroughly pooped and quite happy about what we learned, what we saw, and what we purchased.
 
Now it is Sunday.  I drove Julie to the airport in Albuquerque early this morning.  She is on her way back to Boston.  I will spend the rest of the day with the Sunday TImes and on this computer figuring out my route home.  I think I will leave on Tuesday, but that could change.  I have loved the time out here.  The weather has been perfect.  My days have been full of good company, good food, and high culture.  Liam said to me this morning that he is ready to go home.  I'm not sure I could say the same.  I am glad I will have a long drive as a re-entry into my normal life and routines.

Geronimo - a restaurant review

It is Wednesday and we are all just waking up after a delicious evening last night. Sterling picked out our restaurants before he left NYC and booked our tables via Opentable and the place he picked for last night is called Geronimo and it is WOW! I mean it is really WOW! Now I am not a foodie and I am here in Santa Fe living for a week among 5 others who are foodies so I am really along for the ride, but did I mention that the restaurant last night was WOW! We all got 3 full courses and there wasn't one morsel of food on anyone's plate that wasn't absolutely PERFECT. We had salads and fois gras, we had steak and chicken and duck and shrimp and crabcakes. Food went flying around the circular table as each of us wanted to taste what other's were having and WOW! The tastes and textures and colors and variety were all amazing. Everything was prepared to perfection.  And desserts - let me just say that Liam has been trying to find the receipe for his jasmine ice cream since he got home last night. Of course, the price was pretty amazing as well, but for once I actually think it was worth it.


I'm not sure what our plans are for today, but our first opera is this evening. It is a comedy and has a very well know soprano singing so I am looking forward to it.

Each time we go out and drive around I am struck by the beauty of the mountains, the clarity of the light, the softness of the air.  I will try to capture this with my camera, but I am not hopeful.  But if I can, I'll post some of them in future blogs.

A Wonderful Day in Colorado

Colorado is a magical state.  I have never lived here tho I've thought about it since my first trip through the state in 1965.  I have been here many times and have never not had a wonderful experience.  One of the best times was when Chip and I came here for a Renaissance Weekend (remember those?) and then spent a couple of weeks driving the 4 corners of the state stopping at the white sands (amazing) and a resort so deep in the wilderness we had to helicoper in.  I don't think there is a part of this state I don't like - a lot.

And yesterday was no exception.  Tramp and I had a wonderful day playing with my step-son, Edward and his delightful girlfriend, Willow.

Ed and Willow were in Boulder to go to the wedding of a good friend of Ed's from his business school days. Their visit was all the better because it meant they could stay and visit with one of Ed's closest friends, Andy, who lives here.  Andy is now married with three kids all under the age of 6.  It was great fun watching these kids interact with Uncle Ed.  I know I'm biased, but I think Ed -like his Dad - has a special gift with kids.

The wedding was Saturday afternoon and evening so we had arranged to talk by phone when we awoke on Sunday and plan our day.  I woke early as has been my habit on this trip, but I didn't want to call assuming the kids had been up dancing until the wee hours of the morning.  As it turned out, my assumption was completely wrong.  (When will I learn??)  They were back at Andy's home by 9PM and were up and ready to go by 8:30 Sunday, but of course, I didn't know.   At any rate, I drove over to Andy's home around 10:30 and picked up Ed and Willow and we went out to brunch at a perfect little outdoor place not far away.

With some good food in us we took off for the sweet village of Estes Park which is at the base of the Rocky Mountain National Park. Chip and I had been to Estes Park once before when we wanted to drive up into the mountains. During that visit we did not go into the village and the memory I have of the town was the small herd of deer we saw lazily grazing on some unlucky homeowner's front lawn.

Estes Park

Eddie, Tramp and me on the bike.  Imagine Willow in here with us!

  Today, Ed, Willow and I headed into the village and immediately found a lake that looked too inviting to pass up.  After playing in the water with Tramp for a bit, we rented a bike that was built for two people sitting side by side to pedal together. It had a cute canopy on top and a basket in the front for a baby or two. We put Tramp in the basket, I squeezed into the middle of the seat and Ed and Willow pedalled us all around the lake - nearly 5 miles! Now, these are strong and athletic kids, but with Tramp and me there was probably 200 more pounds than that bike was meant to carry and there were some pretty steep uphill climbs on this trail. I was sure, several times, that I should get out and walk but they wouldn't let me and lo and behold they did it.

After a brief rest back on the beach, we decided the reward should be some delicious ice cream cones, and Ed wanted to go up the mountain a bit and show us the views so we went back in the car and started looking for an ice cream store in the very crowded village when we looked at the clock in the car and realized we needed to get back to Boulder if we were going to make their 6PM flight back to LA. So Ed, who was driving, turned the car around and we started back. I think he was a bit nervous that we were already getting late and mentioned we might not even have the time to stop for the ice cream when suddenly he asked a very relevant question. By the way, did I reset the car clock to Mountain time when I crossed into Colorado or could it be that the clock was actually an hour off, still on Central time?  Well, of course he was right. I never reset the clock so we had an hour more than we had thought which gave us all a reason to take a breath and enjoy a very deep sigh of relief. It meant we could go by the best little ice cream shop in Boulder, fill the car with gas, get it washed and get back to visit with Andy and his family at their home for a little bit before loading up the car and driving to the airport.

It was sad for me to say goodbye to the kids. I really enjoy their company a lot. They are hard working, smart, attractive people in very sense of that word.  Had I been the one pedaling that bike, I would have given up when the going got hard and walked and pushed the bike until the path got flat again.  But these kids wouldn't give up.  Willow, especially, motivated herself and Ed by just saying she knew they could do it.  Simple as that.  Like the little engine that could.  And they did!  And I was impressed. 

 I had decided to drive on to Colorado Springs after leaving them and so I started back on the road. It was a beautiful drive here - Colorado is a magnificent state and this hotel, a La Quinta,  is probably the nicest one I've been in so far. The bathroom is well lit with good mirrors and when I washed up I discovered I had a nice golden glow from all the sunshine.  My first tan of the season, and it is fitting it happened here.  Colorado definately gives me a lglow.

Today I'm off to Santa Fe.  My brother-in-law is already there and he says the house is terrific.  I think I may buy my first bathing suit in 20 years.

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The Road to Boulder

I am comfortably settled into a funky arch-typical boulder hotel. Called the Boulder Outlook, it is outwardly the same as the comfort Inn or any other budget hotel I've ever been in - the room could be any motel anywhere. Except this is owned by a Boulder-minded person (in my day I think we'd call him a hippy) so it boasts a HOST who is an Ambassador of Cool who is always available to help in whatever. There is all the free stuff of every budget hotel - Internet, breakfast, refrigerator, pet friendly, poor quality towels, small bathroom, etc. but it also has room service that offers vegan and vegetarian options and sustainably farmed meats. Breakfast goes to 10, rather than 9 and the coffee is strong and sustainably farmed. It offers dry cleaning as well as the guest laundry. The pool is maintained with chlorine-free products and the whole hotel is managed on a zero waste principle - "doing its part to keep the world beautiful". And, it has, in the middle of the lobby, a recreation area for hotel quests that includes a climbing rock for adults and a smaller one for kids along with a cascading waterfall. And best of all for me, there is an in-house masseuse. Yes, that's right, here in this funky motel, there is a strong, sweet Asian woman who made herself available for me on 15 minutes notice so that I could uncreak my stiff and crooked body. I've driven over 3500 miles already and my back - which has really been quite well behaved most of the time - is beginning to complain.
Ah, heaven. After more than 60 minutes I walked out of the quiet room able to stand up straight and move easily. I only hope it will last.
The trip from Ogallala to Boulder was an easy 4 hour drive marked by gradual change.  First, as we drove west and south we also drove up. The land changed from fertile plains to high desert.  Climbing from 3500' up to 4500' the landscape color changed from deep green and the gleaming gold of the corn tassel to the flat, dry yellow of hay and straw.  The infinate waves of corn fields mostly disappeared and hay became the ubiquitous crop and,  instead of small herds of catttle grazing peacefully in the fields, hugh feedlots appeared with hundreds if not thousands of penned cattle eating from troughs and eating and eating.


The second noticeable change was that the rolling hills gave way to high, flat plateau and then, way off in the distance, mountains. In Nebraska there is horizon everywhere I looked. As far to the right and left that my peripheral vision would allow me to see, there fileds kissing sky. Then slowly, the horizon disappeared, blocked by shadowy mountains which became more and more clear, more and more detailed as I drove.   And a realization came over me as I approached those mountains.  As beautiful as I found the sandhills, as much as I loved the openness and vastness of the landscape, the closer I got to the mountains, the more settled and comforted I felt. I take something from the strength of the mountains that neither the ocean nor the plains with their never-ending-ness can give me. The moutains contain me.  They protect me.  I disappear in the vastness of the ocean or the plains.  But somehow I stand tall with the mountains.

And finally, the change that became noticeable mile after mile was that I was no longer alone on the roads. People, cars and trucks started surrounding me. The county road ended. A real highway became my only option. Cars to my left or right. Cars in front. Towns that were  6 or 10 individual buildings with 60% of them closed up and dilapidated gave way to towns of block after block of contiguous structures clearly thriving. Nebraska has no people. (It does, however, have very big bugs - you should see the car...)  Colorado has people.
 
I am back in a city now - not a city like NY or Chicago, but like Cambridge or Berkeley and, I must admit, it feels very, very good.

The surprise of Nebraska/ and the education of an East Coast snob

I am sitting in a Best Western hotel in Ogallala, Nebraska which I might have stayed in once before with Chip. I know we stayed in a Stagecoach Inn, Best Western, but I think there are several here in the West. We would have been coming down from South Dakota on our way to Colorado if we had been here. It looks and sounds familiar to me, but I cannot quite settle it in my mind. At any rate, Travelling Rose - my special travel agent -  always told me that Best Westerns were generally the best of the inexpensive hotels and my experience in this trip has certainly born that out.  

I really don't understand the hotel industry. In these under 100/night places (1) dogs are welcome; (2) breakfast is included; (3) wireless Internet access is free; (4) there are refrigerators and often microwaves in the room and (5) there is a guest laundry. In the fancy hotels guests get much prettier lobbies and furnishings (tho with the Marriott chain that is actually questionable)  and, of course, better towels and sheets, but - if they take pets, there's a charge, Internet access has a charge, a refrigerator in the room (which I need for this medication I am taking) has a charge, forget laundry - god help us if we need something washed or ironed, and generally breakfast is absurdly expensive. I've brought my own big towel so I'm not at all sure the somewhat better mattress and more spacious lobby is really worth a couple of hundred dollars/night more!! Actually, let me restate that. I'm pretty sure it is not.  (And as you know, I'm not at all adverse to luxury...)




I have totally reassessed my opinion of Nebraska now that I've driven through the state from East to West. As I said before, I had driven through parts of the state on other trips and do not remember it as anything other than flat corn fields.  Nebraska is middle America in every sense.  It is geographically in the middle, obviously.  But I think it is in the middle by size and population as well.  So, my recollection was that there was little special about the state.  This trip has given me a wholly different view.  I had an absolutely beautiful ride. It turns out about 25% of the state is what is called the Sandhills area and that is what I traversed yesterday. There is no single Sandhills park - at least none that I could find.  Rather, it is an area - and the pastoral beauty is something special.  This was one of Charles Kuralt's (remember him on Sunday Morning? Gosh, I miss him) most favorite drives and now I understand why. He thought Nebraska’s Highway 2 "one of America’s 10 most beautiful highways".  Now I have to correct him.  This road is most definitely NOT a highway.  It is a two lane county road.  But, as to the effect it has on you as you drive it?  He was right on:


           Like the sea the emptiness of the Sandhills gives the traveler a strange sense of comfort. Highway 2 is not just another highway that goes somewhere Highway 2 is somewhere.

This is a cow nursing her calf high up a steep hill. (Believe it or not)

I tried to take pictures that would capture the landscape - who knew there were such rolling hills in Nebraska - but my little point and shoot camera cannot capture the changes in depth that our eyes register. At least, I don't know how to make it do that.  Mostly, where the plains are flattest, corn covers the earth from the road to the horizon. Where the hills overlap, it is cattle. Small herds appear as black spots dotting the bright, rich green background. And then, who would have thought it? There are beaches in Nebraska. There are small beaches along rivers good for wading and sitting on rocks dangling toes in the clear fresh waters.  And there are large lakes made from damming up those rivers.  These man-made lakes have sandy shores - I'm not sure how,  and it looks and feels a lot like New Hampshire or Wisconsin.  Amazing.

I haven't met many people, but those I have interacted with are open and friendly and seem quite content with their lives.  Mostly I talked with Tina, the innkeeper of the Farwell Arms and her husband who works in insurance sales and has travelled extensively    Tina told me her entire life story as we sat over coffee and could not have been more generous or concerned about me, Tramp, and our comfort. Her daughter in Grand Island just turned 40 and Tina is concerned about how liberal she has become in her political and social views and behaviors.  She also told me a story of driving a long tunnel from Illinois into Maryland (a very long tunnel! ) but other than that, she is clearly a woman with dreams who - despite being 66 already - is planning on living those dreams and I admire her for that.

Cody Park in North Platt

Today I drive into Boulder. I talked with Edward this morning. He and his girlfriend are already there and staying with other friends. They are all going to a wedding this afternoon and I'll meet them and spend the day with them tomorrow. There is a heat wave in Colorado this weekend - it will be sunny but in the high 90's. Clearly we will have to find a beach somewhere. No hiking in that heat.

Sioux Falls, SD to Farwell, Nebraska

I slept surprisingly well last night in this old fashioned motel off the highway in Sioux Falls and awoke quite refreshed around 7:30.  Since I had promised Tramp I would take her for a walk in the park if we woke early, I got up and did my emails and packed the car.  We set out for Starbucks first - I need my triple venti cap - and then for Falls Park.

There are many levels to the Falls

The Falls of the Big Sioux River are the center of recreational and geographic activities of the city.  It must be wondrous for the people who live here to have this special beauty in the heart of their city - a place to walk, to sit, to contemplate.  The park is over 40 acres, tiny in comparison to the nearly 800 acres of central park in NYC, but it is a bit of magic with over 7400 galleons of water dropping over 100 feet every second.

It's a LOT of water....

I had to keep Tramp on a tight lead as we walked the paths along the river and falls.  She was determined to find a way in the water and I was sure she'd be swept down and over the rocks if she got anywhere near.  It wasn't much fun for either of us as she struggled to get free of me and I struggled to keep her on the path.  Eventually we came upon a pool that was still and calm and I let her off the leash and in an instant she was swimming and smiling.  That made our time in the park much more fun.  We spent about an hour there and then got back into our car to head west and south into Nebraska.

I am driving county roads on this trip, avoiding the more trafficked interstate highways.  These county roads are in terrific condition for the most part, almost completely devoid of traffic with the exception of the occasional farm vehicle and they have the added advantage of taking me through towns every 40 or 50 miles so that I get a better sense of how people actually live here.  On the downside, they don't have rest stops or public parks nearby so that when we are ready to stop for a picnic or to stretch our backs and legs, it is more difficult to find a pretty place to do that.  Despite this significant drawback, I am pleased to be driving these roads and will continue to do so as I continue in Nebraska tomorrow and then into Colorado on Saturday.

This section of Northeastern Nebraska is more rolling hills than we typically think of this state.  I guess most of Nebraska is flat plateau land, but here, it is more like Minnesota with yet even bigger farms.  Here I think they must measure the fields in terms of miles rather than acres.  They just keep going.  Mostly the fields are corn.  Corn up to the proverbial elephant's eye.  Corn from here to the horizon.  More corn than you could ever imagine the world needing.  Why do we ever produce so much corn???  Honestly.

Occasionally there is another crop besides the corn.  I don't know if its soybeans or what, but it is a low and dense and dark green crop that is a beautiful contrast to the tall, wavy, and gold brown gleam of the corn in the sunshine.

The Farwell  Arms

I have stopped for the night at a B&B in the town of Farwell, population about 100.  What this particular Victorian structure is doing in this town I do not know - it is quite out of place in this community.  But it is very comfortable and Tramp and I are quite happy here.  We arrived around 3 and after chatting for a while with the innkeeper, we sat on the porch, on a swing, and read enjoying the strong, warm breezes and sipping on cold, delicious well water.

After a few hours we took the camera and went for a walk.  We found a small pond and Tramp went for a swim and came out black and gray.  I don't know what the purpose of the pond is, but I don't think it is a swimming hole.  The grasses around the pond were taller than Tramp and she had to jump rather than walk or run to get through them. It was terrific exercise for her and I think she was incredibly happy.  Her genetic disposition is farm dog, and I really think she feels much more comfortable in this environment than she does in the noisy city despite spending her whole life around concrete and cars.   When we got back to the inn we both went into the very large jacuzzi tub and thoroughly washed out the muck, the grasses, and the thorns.  We are both sweet smelling and refreshed - and ready to curl up in bed.

Tomorrow we drive west to Ogallala, Nebraska near the Colorado border  I have the distinct feeling I've been there before, perhaps with Chip.  I am curious to see if it brings back any memories.  I expect to cross into a very different kind of geography as we move into more desert and high plains.  If I can, I will stop at the Sandhills which is supposed to be a beautiful scenic part of the landscape here.

On the road to Boulder

I left Wautoma and Red and Sophie on Tuesday to head to a university town in Minnesota called Mankato.  I stayed at a perfectly awful motel but it's location turned out to be spectacular for me.  First, it was across the street from a Starbucks.  That in itself would make me a happy person.  But it gets much better - much better!

Second, it was near a Chipotle Mexican Grill which is a fast food chain with organic and sustainably farmed foods that I have been curious to try for a long time.  So I got a veggie burrito bowl to go and it was actually delicious.  Very impressive for fast, cheap food - I mean it is actually food!

Third, it was near both a car wash and a petco and I wanted to go to both.  Tramps ears have developed a yeast-y smell from all her swimming and I wanted to get some ear wash.  And the car was covered inside and out with sand and dirt from so much time in the woods and alongside beaches.  Since I will be primarily on the road now and in cities, I figured it would make sense to clean her up at this point.

Petco had what I needed and then some.  I got Tramp some new food to mix in with her kibble and she seems to love it; and I got her a brush to see if I could get her to look a bit more presentable, but she won't let me use that so....

But look at this!  This is the same front fender I showed you on the day I left with the awful scrape marks resulting from the good Samaritan who "helped" me back out around a double parked catering van.  Well, this wonderful car wash had a detail man who, for $14.11 buffed out the hideous white paint and I have a beautiful, clean, whole car again.  Yippee!

I left Mankato around noon and got here, to Sioux Falls around 3 after a pretty ride on deserted county roads due west through Minnesota.  I don't know how to quite describe the size of the farms along this route.  Endless.  Beautiful field after field of crops - many in different stages of maturity with different colors from gold to green so dark it looks almost black and different densities and heights and shapes.  Then, every once in a while, I'd come up to the industrial part of this industrial farmland.  Instead of the iconic red barn and pretty silo that I saw in Wisconsin, here there were gleaming silver silo factories - three, four, five or more giant silos of different circumferences kind of knit together with gleaming steel rectangular buildings and horizontal beams.  Huge constructions.  This is serious farming and processing.  And the wealth it creates shows through.  Nothing or no one is struggling here.  These agribusiness companies or chemical companies who own and manage these industrial farms may feign poverty and beg for subsidies, but come out and see these places and you see money being printed.  It is awesome.  It is beautiful in its own special way.  It is NOT business requiring taxpayer subsidy. 

Now I am settled in to a funky hotel in Sioux Falls, ND.  If I wake early tomorrow, as I did today, I will take the Tramp down to see the falls.  She has done nothing but sleep since we left Wautoma - no sweet puppies to play with; no sweet Sophie to swim with.  She is bored and she lets me know it.  So, if we can, we will walk in Falls Park to see the falls that give this city its name and try to find a place for Tramp to swim.  Then it is off to a B&B in Nebraska on our way to meet up with my step-son Edward in Boulder on Sunday.

A day of rest and re-charging

It has been about 40 hours now of hanging out, relaxing and re-charging.  It has been exactly what I needed after 10 days on the road.

Red and I arrived at her summer home in Wautoma at about 3PM Sunday and all stress from the road immediately dripped off us. This property has been in Red's family since her grandfather bought and rented out several properties in the 20's choosing this particular site for his own family.He passed it on to Red's Mom and she passed it on to Red explaining it is important for a woman to have a home of her own as a place to enjoy while times are good and as a refuge should times become hard.  (Smart woman!)

This past year Red decided to make some major renovations and as been working hard from her home in Texas to purchase the materials she wanted and to have the on-site contractor perform the work as it appeared in her mind's eyes.  It has come out beautifully, but it is still a work in progress and a place she is just now learning to operate - the heat, the fans, the appliances, the windows, the washer/dryer, etc.  For me, not concerned with any of this, I got simply to enjoy the fruits of all her hard work.

View of Red's home from the beach

Sophie wondering why Tramp was always so wet

Red's husband loves good wine so after unloading the car and settling in we raided his wine cellar. With wine in hand we all went down to the beach and as Red and I enjoyed the late afternoon breezes we watched Tramp enjoy the longest swim I've ever seen her take. Later I napped and Red drove to the local farmers market to buy the goodies for  a "farmer's supper" of fresh picked corn on the cob (best I've ever had), steamed potatoes and beans, fresh cucumbers and tomatoes and wisconsin cheese. We ate heartily and happily and soon it was time for bed.

I plugged in all the various electronics I've brought to recharge and lay down with a new novel. I think I got to page 4 before my eyes shut. I had the longest and deepest sleep I've had in days - maybe weeks - as the air turned quite cool and I slept curled up under a couple of quilts.

Tramp woke me early to go out for her first of four or five swims  (we are finally getting the stink out of her), I did two loads of laundry. We drove around the townships and looked at the farms and homes and shopped at the amish store.   We supped again on the freshest veggies available, drank more of K's well chosen wine, talked about our adventure together and printed out pictures for memories.  We skyped with Red's son and his finance in Montreal and talked about possibilities in our futures.  It was a thoroughly satisfying  evening.

I was up early this morning and watched the sun rise over the lake.  As I began unplugging all the technology I'd been recharging I thought this was a good metaphore for my time here.  My toothbrush, my camera, my computer, my book, all run on batteries that wear down with use but recharge with a bit of fuel and time.  Just like me, my tastes, my senses, my mind, my body, all run down after too much use and need the rest, the re-fueling, the time to recharge.  And that is exactly what this interlude in Wautoma has provided me.

Evening sky over Silver Lake

Today begins the drive to Boulder.  It will take me 5 days and 4 nights to get there from here, and there is nothing particular I want to see or experience along the way.  We shall see what the fates have in store.

Reflections on the UP

It is Sunday morning and I am sitting in bed in a funky, old Victorian hotel in the town of Nahma, MI. THis hotel has the feel of a place loveingly built in 1840, moderized in 1906 and maintained, but never again renovated in the 105 years since. At any rate, since I am about to leave the UP and begin a new phase of this trip, I thought I'd reflect back a bit and share with you what I've learned.

First, formost of this trip so far, I've been following something called the Niagara Escarpment. An escarpment is a cliff which developed over time by erosion of soft rock which sits beneath much harder rock. As the soft rock erodes, it leaves cliffs, and as with the Niagara Escaprment, lots of waterfalls. The biggest and best know is, of course, Niagara falls, but the UP has over 120 little falls scattered across it.  In fact, if I understand this geology correctly (and I may not) it is this erosion that resulted in Lakes Erie, Huron and Michigan whereas lakes Ontarion and Superior were formed from volcanic activity. Most of what I've seen of the Niagara escarpment is not as dramatic as Niagara Falls, but the cliffs have a unique and rugged beauty and provide the lakes with shoreline far more interesting and impressive than I had anticipated.

I first picked up the Escarpment in Little Falls, NY which is a perfect example of the beauty, and challenge of the escarpment. Little Falls sits under cliffs with multiple small waterfalls. It developed as a town because canals and locks needed to be built to allow ships to navigate around the rapids in the river. In fact, it is the Niagara Escarpment that made the Erie Canal, just a few miles further along from Little Falls, a necessity.

The escarpment  continues from Little Falls through Hamilton, Ontario and up the Bruce Peninsular to Tobermory and then up to Sault St Marie when it turns back south across the UP and down to Wisconsin.  This has been almost exactly my route.

  

I had no idea when I planned this trip that I would be following this geological formation, but I am very happy I have been doing so.

  

So what about the UP? Here's what I've learned:

• The UP is HUGE. It's landmass is over 16000 sq miles (All of Massachusetts is only a bit over 10,000 sq miles), It's east/ west axis runs 320 miles long and its north/ south axis is 120 miles wide. It is bounded on the north by Lake Superior, on the east by the St. Mary's River, on the southeast by Lake Michigan and Lake Huron, and on the southwest by Wisconsin.  I was overly ambitious, to say the least, to think I could explore all of this in only 5 days 

• The UP has only 300,000 people living in this huge space (that's less than half the population of Boston proper)  and it has been losing population over the past few decades. Large numbers of Finnish, Swedish, Danish and Norwegian emigrants came to the Upper Peninsula in the mid 1800's to work the copper mines and their descendants make up the bulk of the population today. (My niece married a Dane and I could see him live and work here very happily.  He might even find a demand for his expertese in Danish history!)  Today residents refer to themselves as "Yoopers" (U.P-ers) and maintain a strong and proud regional identity.

• The UP grew prosperous when copper was discovered to be here by the Europeans. In fact, the Indians had been mining the copper for 400 years. Between 1890 and 1920, 10% of the world's copper came from the UP.

• Today the economy is based primarily on logging the vast forests and tourism. The land and climate are not very suitable for agriculture due to the long harsh winters. About 1/3rd of the land is government owned forest land and much of that is set aside as national and state park and used solely for recreation, mostly during the very short summer tho there is a ski mountain and lots of snowmobiling in the winter.  

• Of the 15 counties, I spent time in 3, really only exploring one, Keweenah.
• The Keweenaw Peninsula is the northernmost part of the peninsula. It projects into Lake Superior and was the site of the first copper boom in the United States, part of a larger region of the peninsula called the Copper Country.  Copper Harbor, population 55, is its northernmost town. It is rugged land pitted with coves of rock and sand with forests kissing the water.   The lake water is clear, often calm, and suprisingly warm.  Red and I spent a day driving around this piece of the UP, stopping frequently to admire it's beauty and to walk the coves and let the dogs swim. There is no pretention anywhere - just a sense of good honest people who love living there and are happy that many other people enjoy their part of heaven, but only for a few weeks a year and then go home. I think the people who live here year round do so because of its isolation and scanty population while the reason most people choose NOT to live here year round is the long and exceptionally harsh winters. Records of 390 inches of snow or more have been set in many communities in this area. The Keweenaw Peninsula averages more snowfall than almost anywhere in the United States—more than anywhere east of the Mississippi River and the most of all non-mountainous regions of the continental United States.  The howling winds off the lake cause ice to form into what appears to be glaciers crusting the rocks and cliffs.  It is awe-inspiring to see these 15 foot high measuring posts planted alone the side of the road scaled to record the snowfall on the ground. 
• As much as I enjoyed touring this county, I did NOT like the B&B we stayed in.  Called the Dapple Gray and situated beautifully across the lake and above the trees providing exquisite views from our private balcony, it is decorated with mounted dead animals from squirrels to bear.  Our room alone had foxes and rabbits and animals we did not recognize on the walls and in alcoves and flying overhead. For me, this was horror.  Moreover, the innkeepers treated their guests - and it was sold out - as necessary evils clearly preferring not to interact with any of us if at all possible.  Ruth, the lady of the house, is really an antique glass dealer and the only time she engaged at all was when Red asked her about a particular piece of satin glass and she could explain the difference between satin and velvet glass.  As comfortable and clean as the inn was, and as beautiful as the area was, I was happy to leave.

View from our balcony at the Dapple Gray



Lake Superior beach




• My first experience of the UP was Mackinac County and St Ignace, the jumping off point to Mackinac Island.  As you already know I decided against going onto the island and instead drove across the straits of Mackinac over one of the longest bridges in the US opened in the late 1950's.  In St. Ignace, I camped in a lodge in the woods, just a small step up in comfort from a tent and outhouse, across from Lake Huron surrounded by families who enjoy the outdoor camping experience and fishing.  In fact,  Mackinac county is for fishermen.  In addition to Lake Huron and Lake Michgan,  it has lots of small, inland lakes and streams and driving the area you see commercial and pleasure fishingboats and fishermen everywhere.
• My last experience of the UP was Delta county and the tiny town of Nahma.  Delta is the walleye capital of the US and I had my first taste of this fish and now like it even better than trout. It also has over 200 miles of shoreline, the most in the continental USA.  Interestingly, the waters of Lake Michigan in Nahma are brown, residual still from the logging and mill operations that were the raison d'etre of this area and which closed way back in the 1950's.  So much environmental damage was done that the rivers and lakes still run brown with sawdust.  We made the mistake of taking the dogs to the beach and Tramp came back from her swim brown instead of white and stinky as could be.  We hosed her down and hosed her down and hosed her down and she still smells awful!

• As Red and I drive south today into Wisconsin I will be a bit sad to leave the UP. I feel as if I got just a tiny, but very tasty tidbit of this part of the world.

A rainy Friday morning overlooking Lake Superior

Well, the UP (Michigan's upper peninsular ) is BIG. Very, very big. In fact, I think of Michigan as a very large state and the UP is,by itself, a quarter of this large state's total land mass.  It's so far north that I think the cartographers need to shrink it a bit when they show it in relationship to the rest of the US, but when you are here, well, it is a big (literally) surprise. I had googled the directions from St. Ignace to Mohawk, our next stop, so I knew I would be driving a long distance, but somehow it didn't quite register how very long it would be.


I slept in Thursday morning, made some coffee and went back to bed to read a few more chapters in my book and wait for the sun to burn off the morning fog. Then I got on-line to compose yesterday's blog entry and before I knew it, it was almost 11 and time to check out.

My home in St Ignace

I loaded up the car, took some pictures, and set off for Mohawk.

Tyson, the Tramp's young friend

The sleeping alcove in our cabin

The route from St. Ignace to Mohawk starts west along Lake Michigan, turns north up to Lake Superior, and then follows the lake north and west along a point of land that hooks around like a crooked finger. Before making the turn north tramp and I found a sandwich shop and a beach and picnicked at the shore. The sand was white and soft; the beach only moderately occupied despite the absolutely perfect sunny day; and quite relaxed. Tramp was able to take herself down to the water and go visiting families and everyone was quite relaxed about her. After a nice rest, we hopped back in the car and continued on our way. OK, so that was our only stop, we were on the road at 11 and we didn't pull up to the driveway of this B&B until 6PM. That's right. 7 hours and I really hit the gas pedal in some places. At any rate I figure the UP stretches about 3 - 4 times the length of Massachusetts. That's pretty darn BIG.

After unpacking the car I showered and rested a bit and then piled Tramp back in so we could backtrack to Haughton airport to meet Red landing at 11:30. I found a little restaurant for dinner, talked to the owner/bartender/cook for about an hour and went to find the airport. Red got in early and after hugs and kisses all around (Tramp and Red, Tramp and Sophie, Red and me, Sophie and me, round and round) we loaded into the car and back we came. It was 1:30 AM before we settled into bed and turned off the light.

Today the weather has turned against us - thunder showers most of the day, I think, but if I can I'll take some pictures and attach them in a future blog.

Wednesdy, Aug 11th. A day of shopping.

It is already Thursday. I cannot believe this marks one week already that we've been on the road. Today we leave St Ignace and head for Mohawk at the northernmost tip of the upper peninsular. I will pick Red and her pup Sophie up at the airport this evening. It will be fun to have a companion for the next few days.




Yesterday was fun. After deciding on this route specifically so that I might explore Mackinac Island, we decided not to go. The more I read about it, the more upscale Disneyland it became to me. When I was touring Italy several years ago, I decided not to go to Venice because it's purpose had seemed to become to delight tourists. I think that is the purpose of Mackinac Island now as well. Except on Mackinac, there is a charge for everything. Chip and I spoke occasionally of the Grand Hotel, its wraparound porch, it's rocking chairs. If I were with Chip, no question we would have gone over to the island, perhaps even stayed there (tho the Grand Hotel is not dog-friendly) Chip was, himself, a bit of a throwback to the Victorian era, always dressed beautifully, always proper in his public persona. The problem is, of course, that Chip is not with me on this trip and I think going over to the island would have made me miss him terribly. And since there is a charge for everything - including going up to rock on one of those rocking chairs, it would have made me angry as well. So, instead, I loaded the Tramp into the car and we went over the Mackinac bridge onto the mainland and down to Petoskey.



I came across Petoskey in a NY Times magazine article months ago. Petoskey is also a throwback, nostalgic, a place out of time. But its purpose is not tourists. It purpose is to please the residents who live there all year or summer there when the other parts of the state get too hot, too unbearable. Petoskey is authentically charming. All the little towns around are authentically charming. It sits on Little Traverse Bay, a part of Lake Michigan. It is clearly well to do with upscale hotels, restaurants, cafes and shops. Oh, the shops. Janet, how I wish you were with me when I went to Dave's Boot Shop. They carry those clogs I see you wear all the time along with room after room of options. Down in its bargain basement I couldn't resist a pair of waterproof loafers in bright yellow rubber. Living deep in the woods, with rain clearly on its way, I argued to myself that these would prevent me from ruining any of the other shoes I had brought with me. But really it was just the bright yellow and plaid trim that compelled me to buy them. Next to this store was shop after shop of clothing and jewelry and "stuff". No chain stores. No stores that litter every major city in this country and every other country around the world. Here, the owners go on buying trips and carefully cull what they want to offer their customers from the name brands and unknown designers alike. The shops have character. They have personality. And the browsing is pure pleasure.



And, Jo, oh, my, what a bookstore! I think I was there over an hour talking with the owner's son who was helping me pick out new audio books for the rest of the trip given that I had already finished The Help. He, himself, loved audio books and had probably already listened to every offering they had. But he understood that there are some books you must READ, while others are even better when you sit back and listen to the story unfold. We talked and talked until he thought he understood me and then he began his suggestions. I left with 3 new books - I could have purchased dozens more - and a desire to come back to Petoskey often just to go and talk with him more about the latest offerings and what he liked and didn't like about them.



After the bookstore I walked down a cross street and came across a linen shop that had MacKinsey Childs ware in the windows. Now I love Mackinsey Childs and it fills my kitchen. It is happy and friendly and welcoming in its designs. And even while the original husband and wife team that built this company are long gone from it, having gone bankrupt and selling to a large corporation, the designs remain true to the vision and the quality has actually improved, and each piece I see still makes me happy.  While I would happily own any piece of theirs, I have a supplier from Martha's Vineyard who gets me a 20% discount, so I was not about to buy anything of theirs from this store, but the very fact that they carried this brand gave me confidence I would like the rest of their merchandise and so in I went.   I bought a lace hankerchief from them, a thick bright towel (Balsom Lodge does not supply towels) so that I could shower when I got back to the lodge, and a plaque to be a gift for Red and her husband to mount on the walls of their summer home after I drop her and Sophie off there early next week.



All in all I was very pleased with my purchases - new books to listen to in the car; bright yellow rain shoes, a thick plush towel to wrap myself in, and a sweet linen and lace hanki - a piece of clothing that is so reminiscent of the town, old-fashioned, unnecessary in the modern world, and a pleasure to the senses and soul.









We were back at the cottage by around 5. Our neighbors with the husky puppy came home shortly afterward and the puppy came calling for Tramp. They ran and played and swam and amused us all for about 30 minutes and then I left the group to come in for my dinner.



I had driven through the town of St. Ignace before coming back to the cottage. It, too, is a sweet little town, not as old-fashioned and upscale as Petoskey, but comfortable in its skin, and I liked driving around. We stopped for a local food - a Pastie. Pronounced to rhyme with sassy, in fact, at least the one I bought, ate more like the way I want to pronounce it - paste-y. Pasties are single portion meals made by miners' wives for their husbands lunches when they were deep down in the mines. They are baked meat and vegetable pies with the crusts wrapped complete around the filling. Wrapped in linen or newspaper, they stay warm for a long time. The fillings are dense with full-bodied flavor. Eat one and you won't soon be hungry again. The one I had was all vegetables - potatoes and rutabaga and carrots and broccoli. It was also bland. I don't think I'll have another anytime soon, but it satisfied for my dinner and the peanut butter cookie I had for dessert was yummy. That cookie, along with a big glass of ice cold milk topped my day perfectly.



Tramp and I curled up on the bed with my book and we happily spent a quiet evening enjoying listening to rain on the cabin roof and forest leaves. We fell asleep wrapped by the sensation of clean fresh green forest air.

Pictures from E'terra Lodge

I couldn't get these pictures to publish when I wrote the post.  I am hopeful this will work today.

My camera, of course, cannot take photos that would do this building and it's surroundings justice.  But I hope I can give you an idea of the uniqueness and a feeling of the luxury you experience when here.

The indoor pond on the ground level

The lodge is built into the side of the cliff on multiple levels.  You can enter on the ground level or the first floor.  Here, on the ground level you can see the rocks and trees the structure was built around.  This pond has goldfish in it and miraculously Tramp never actually went in.  She tried, but listened to our stern, NO, and - believe it or not - she obeyed.

Also on this level is the kitchen, dining room, breakfast area, and 2 bedrooms.

My room. 

Laurie had set aside a room with two single beds since we had hoped my cousin would come with me.  When I arrived alone, and when it turned out the Tramp and I would be the only guests, I had my pick of rooms, but this was on the ground level, I could let Tramp out onto the patio and into the woods whenever she wanted, and the room was so charming I had no desire to switch, even for a larger bed.

There is a saltwater infinity pool on the property, but mostly there are woods with multiple trails and paths.  A short walk down one path takes you to this stairway to the cliffs and water.

The Tramp heading to the water

I didn't realize, when we took this walk, that there wasn't beach at the bottom of the cliffs.  They are steep and difficult to climb.

This looks relatively flat, I know.  Trust me, it is quite steep.  So much so that I knew I would not be able to negotiate them, but Tramp was fearless and literally slid her way down and into the water.  She swam happily until she realized she had to come back at some point.  I could watch her trying to figure out what she was going to do.  Then, honestly, for the first time ever, I saw a dog rock climb.  She took one paw at a time, curled it into a rock crevice, and pulled herself up paw over paw.  I think we each might have lost a year of our lives.

Happy to be back on land

E'terra and St Ignace/ August 9 and 10

It is Tuesday morning, August 11th and I am back on-line after a couple of days with too much to do and too little time.  (  I think that is going to be the theme of this trip - while I will be away for over 5 weeks, I don't think I will have enough time to do and see what I want to.  Oh, well.  These are busy and full days.)

My last day at E'terra was packed with sensory experiences. I had arranged to have breakfast at 9, but awoke around 7 to the smells of dark, rich coffee brewing in the kitchen.  With a large cup in hand I returned to bed and watched Good Morning America, my usual routine when I am home. At nine, Laurie brought in a breakfast tray with thick slices of homemade toast and jam and a fruit salad with fresh peaches and blueberries and cherries. I had asked for a light breakfast because I was to have a massage at 10. Christiana, Laurie's gal Friday, is a massage student and she was setting for me. She came to get me around 10:30 and for the next 90 minutes or so she practiced her magic. I hadn't realized my body was as sore from so much driving (I've logged over 1000 miles already) as it was. The massage quite literally hit the spot - actually all the spots!




I had arranged for Tramp and me to go out on the harbor for a cruise of all the islands and sunken ships at 2, and as it was 12:30 by the time I was dressed and ready to go out,  we decided to drive into town to explore a bit. The restaurants all promoted their fish and chips - the big local food, but a few also had poutine which piqued my curiosity. I'd never heard of that and I love to try local specialties so.... Turns out that poutine is french fries covered in melted cheese and smothered in gravy. Well - had to try it, right? Let me simply say this. After eating half the order I thought I might never eat again!



At 2 Tramp and I were waiting at the harbor next to The Lark for Gary, the captain, to tell us to board. The only other passengers were his folks, farmers up from Owen's Sound, and their friends who were also now farmers in Owen's Sound after recently returning from over 30 years in Alaska. They bought a large cooler aboard filled with beer and picnic fare and invited me to join them.



We set out but a thick, dense, soft fog decided to settle over us just as we were heading out.  We started out hoping we'd find pockets of sunshine, but no such luck and after 30 minutes we turned back - this tour was not meant to be.



The tour was to have been of Georgian Bay, the water that surrounds Tobermory. Below these very clear waters are over 120 documented shipwrecks from the late 1800's - many of which you can actually see from above. There is a national underwater park where people come from around the world to dive and swim around and through these wrecks. I took pictures of one we could see, but don't know yet if it actually came out.





Back on land earlier than we had expected, Tramp and I decided we'd take a walk out to the Grotto. The forests around Tobermory are littered with hiking trails of all levels. We found the trail head easily enough after just a couple of wrong turns, and I went for my camera to carry with me on the hike. Oops, no camera. Should I give up the hike and return to the boat or take the hike without the camera and then return for it? I chose to take the walk. This trail was actually a path, as wide as a city sidewalk and as level, about a mile long out to a swimming hole known as the grotto. It is a natural cove with rock steps and rock edges for walking or jumping or diving into warm and crystal clear waters. Tramp made her way down to the water as I waited above and swam happily for about 20 minutes after which we returned to the car and then to the boat. The boat was gone and so we went back to E'terra hoping Gary had found the camera and dropped it off at the lodge. No such luck. Laurie reached Gary on his cell; nope, he didn't see a camera left behind. We decided to meet up at the boat and go over it together. Two hours later, having searched high and low and talked with his folks and the harbormaster, etc.etc. etc no camera. Shoot!



By now it was nearly 8 at night and I was pooped. Tramp and I needed to pack and load up the car, settle our bill with Laurie, and set the alarm for 5AM so we would be at the ferry dock by 6 to cross the Bay and begin our ride north of Lake Huron to Sault St Marie where we'd cross back into the USA.

As we packed and loaded the car, I opened my carryon to put my passport and Tramp's papers in the pocket and there it was, my little camera, right where it was supposed to be.  How could I have missed it those 50 other times I looked right there?  Doesn't matter.  I had the camera and was, once again, a happy person.


Around 9 I was sitting with Laurie chatting and reviewing the bill. She charged me $30 for the 90 minute massage - Christiana was still a student afterall, and the aborted boat cruise was free. I was sad to say goodnight and goodbye as I wouldn't see her the next morning. She said she'd set out coffee and toast for me and a bag of fruits and other breakfast stuff to take on the ferry.





The alarm sounded all too early on Tuesday. It was still dark out. But, other than the fact that Tramp really didn't want to get into the car, all was well as we said good bye to this piece of heaven on earth. We were in line at the ferry on time surprised by the number of cars and vans, trucks and trailers that were making the crossing so early, midweek. The ferry was anything but pleasant. We were not allowed to remain in our car, but the only deck that would allow dogs was outside in the cold and wet with morning dew. No place to sleep. No way to get another cup of hot coffee. It was a very long two hour crossing, but by 9:30 we were off the ferry and on our way.





I had only three disks left of the audio book I was listening to, but I put them into the CD player and set off. The forests we drove through were scruffy and not particularly exciting, which was good since my eyes were blurry with tears that wanted to erupt as I listened to the sad, sweet and hopeful ending of my book.



By 2 we had crossed the boarder back into the US and I was surprised how much neater and more prosperous the US appeared. I remember the last time I was in Detroit and crossed into Windsor, Ontario. Detroit was like a bombed city, decaying and depressed; Windsor, on the other hand, was clean, prosperous and optimistic. I think I expected this to be similar where Sault St. Marie Canada was full of itself and its future while Sault St Marie, USA was old, tired, and just kind of holding on. In fact, that was not the case at all, and it surprised me.



I got to the Balsams Resort Motel and Cabins by about 4:30. Off the main road and across it from the lake, the motel looks like a throw back to the 1950's. I was led to my cabin by a young woman on her bike and Tramp and I settled in. Where E'terra was rustic elegance, Balsams is just rustic. Still, it is on a stream, as advertised, and the young family in the cabin behind me has a 3 month old puppy who fell in love with Tramp and they went exploring the woods and the streams together as the humans got acquainted. 

Back in the cabin I made myself some supper, called Mom to wish her happiness on her 96th birthday, and settled in.



I fell asleep as soon as I hit my pillow and slept deeply all night. I am now in the office, getting ready for my day. I had planned to go over to Mackinac Island, but I am rethinking that. I may go and explore a little town written up in the NY Times some months ago which sounds terrific. I'll decide when we get in the car.