FTJ, Entry 119: Traverse-ing Michigan -- and a Disappointment in Bath

As we approach the end of the last leg of our 'round the country journey (Beau calls it the Fantastic Journey), we are becoming increasingly depressed. The trip of a lifetime is over.

 

We are currently in Bath, NY, where we had a disappointing day. We came here solely because there is a Camping World that could install a satellite dish and enable us to get Direct TV -- or so we thought. After four conversations with their service department, which assured us we would be "happy campers," we dropped off the rig, forcing us to spend the day homeless. Four hours later, we got a call telling us that during the installation of the new satellite dish, the service department discovered we could not watch Direct TV in high def unless all the TVs were watching the same channel. Kind of defeated the purpose of getting satellite TV functionality. Beau wanted it for football, I wanted it for the movie channels. Dag nab it.

So there was a whole day wasted. And a lot of sadness from Captain Beau about not being able to see every college football game in the universe. (But he was happy that the Giants whomped the Eagles in Philly on Sunday....)

Working backwards a few days, let me very briefly review (in photos) our stop after Mackinaw City, Michigan: a lovely town calledTraverse City. We stayed at a terrific lakefront campground -- Holiday Park -- a place we would certainly be tempted to visit again. Wooded sites surrounding peaceful Silver Lake, near a nice downtown with everything you would need.

If you want to be in Michigan, this is not a bad place.

There were lots of black squirrels at our campground. We wondered if they were indigenous to the area.

This baby snapping turtle was in the road and, worried for his safety, I put him on the muddy beach along the lake. Snappers are special to me, in that I had a baby snapping turtle when I was a child. We fed him minnows and raw hamburger. His name was Harvey. His short life was very dramatic, but that's another story.

One of the campers had a parrot -- left outside his cage. He was quiet but seemed a bit depressed.

Heading east, we traveled through the lovely city of Cleveland, Ohio.
I was there years ago -- a very impressive town.

After a one-night stay in Ohio, we traveled through the northwest corner of Pennsylvania and were soon in New York State. The scenery immediately looked familiar to me -- reminded me of where I grew up.

 

In Bath, NY, we stayed at a nice campground, Hickory Hill.

After our short and disappointing stay in Bath, we will point the rig toward Connecticut. Stamford, here we come! 

We'll post photos from our reunion with our good friends next time.

Tanks, Panky

FTJ, Entry 118: Pure Michigan...Boredom?

We have not blogged in quite a while, mainly because there was not a whole lot to say. After the wondrous Badlands, we whipped through the rest of South Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, landing in Michigan...in the middle of nowhere: the Upper Peninsula (that separate part of the state right above Wisconsin). Jesus Mary and Joseph, it is remote -- and sooooo BORING. I liked one comment I saw online that I will steal to describe the Upper Peninsula.: "Unless you are in the witness protection program, there is nothing here for you." Precisely how I felt about the "U.P." The Yoopers, as the locals are called, apparently live there solely to fish, hunt, and ride ATVs and snowmobiles. Blecch. Sounds like hell on earth to yours truly.

Beau adds: While we breezed right through southern Minnesota, it was through some of the most beautiful, picturesque rolling green farmland you can possibly imagine. Boring, but beautiful. I think Laura napped thru most of it because there are no pictures of it. DANG!

We stayed in the most remote part of Yooper land just long enough (one night -- we shortened our stay) for Beau to see the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum and the locks in Sault Sainte Marie, known as Soo Locks. Whoopee.

Okay, the story of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald on Lake Superior was interesting...along with all the other stories of wrecks and the courageous lifesavers out on Whitefish Point. (Hey, Beau enjoyed it.)

As the sign says, since navigation began on Lake Superior, there have been more than 550 wrecks. More vessels were lost in the Whitefish Point area than any other part of Lake Superior. Apparently, there is more congestion here and more visibility issues from fog, forest fires, and snow. Add that to the fact that the lake can build up some huge and dangerous waves -- can you spell disaster?

Whitefish Point on Lake Superior was the site of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, made famous by the singer Gordon Lightfoot. And if you have never heard of this song or of Lightfoot, you are culturally illiterate. (Just kidding, of course. You're just younger than us. And it pisses us off....)

The light at Whitefish Point.

Bell from the Edmund Fitzgerald.

A beautiful Fresnel lens from the lighthouse.

On the Whitefish Point beach, Lake Superior.

Giant rudder from the ship MM Drake.

Some photos from Soo Locks, in Sault Ste. Marie, right across the river from Canada. The locks allow ships to travel from Lake Superior to other Great Lakes -- Lake Michigan.and Huron. Amazing technology, first installed here in 1855.

Soo Locks.

In the Soo Locks visitor center. The photo is an aerial view of the locks.

"Aw" Fudge!

Our next stops were Mackinaw City and Mackinac Island. Back to civilization, huzzah huzzah! 

Here we found out that we would announce ourselves as tourists -- "Fudgies" -- if we pronounced the "c" at the end of the name of the island -- Mackinac is pronounced MackiNAW. Another educational lesson. Begs the question: Why not just name the damned island Mackinaw? Jeesh.

Oh yes, why "Fudgies"? BECAUSE THERE HAVE TO BE 40 FUDGE SHOPS IN MACKINAW CITY/MACKINAC ISLAND. It's ridiculous.

Fudge to the left of me, fudge to the right of me. For god's sake, enough already. There were big butts and big guts (ours included) up and down every street. Stop eating the fudge, people!

The tourists must buy fudge by the ton, apparently. But why they need so many shops, and how they support all of them, is beyond me. You would think some retail diversification would be good for the area -- and the tourists' waistlines.

You can tell I am a bit cranky. Been that way since we crossed the Mississippi River and headed east. I miss the West.  

Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam....

But I digress.

Going over "Big Mac" -- what they call the bridge over the Straits of Mackinaw.

Our site at the Mackinaw City KOA -- nice park.

We spent a day at one of Mackinaw City's bigger tourist attractions, Colonial Michilimackinac, the site of a French fort dating from 1715 that became the major fur trading center of the Northwest until it was relocated to Mackinac Island by the British in 1781. It is now the site of the longest, ongoing historical archaeology program in the United States. Every summer since 1959, archaeologists have been excavating and analyzing discoveries from Michilimackinac.

At historic Colonial Michilimackinac. Again with the different spelling. Annoying.

Where is Beau's hand and why is this lady smiling?

It was very cold and windy the day we visited.

Beau and I think a sedan chair like this should be offered to us upon our arrival back in Stamford. You know, parade us around the neighborhood like visiting dignitaries. Then call 911 for the porters.

The ferry to Mackinac Island.

 

Big Mac from the water. It is an amazing structure -- the third longest suspension bridge in the world. It is the longest one between anchorages in the Western hemisphere. Beau seems to remember that the ferry boat pilot said the piling supports for the main towers are in 300 feet of water.

Nice view of the Mackinac Island shoreline.

 

The magnificent Grand Hotel on the island, where they filmed Somewhere in Time with Chris Reeves and Jane Seymour. A romantic place and a romantic movie. But they charge touristos like us 10 bucks apiece just to go inside and gawk. We passed...

 

The Grand, which at dinner requires ties and coats for gentlemen and dresses, no slacks, for ladies, is aptly named.

Some other photos from our trip to the island, and the carriage ride we took. No vehicles are allowed on Mackinac Island, adding to its quaint beauty. I think they said there were 300 working horses on the island. There are people whose job it is to run around with wheelbarrows and shovels to clean up after the creatures. The air on the island is quite fragrant, as you can imagine.

 

The typical look of an inn on the island. They are just drop-dead gorgeous, like the entire town.

 

Seabiscuit Cafe, where we lunched on the island. (How funny that I captured a Weight Watchers commercial on the TV by accident. A quest to stop the fudge?) The photo of Seabiscuit in the corner is significant, in that the original owner of the place-- a vet -- was there for that race and is behind Seabiscuit in the photo.

Love this shot of Beau and Buddy sleeping. This happens every morning.

We are now in Traverse City, Michigan. Kind of a nice place. And the park we are in, on Silver Lake, is one of the nicest we have been to yet. But the weather on the way here was depressing. First rainy day we have had in months.

On the Old Mission peninsula above Traverse City, alongside Lake Michigan.

Mission Point Lighthouse.

Lake Michigan was pretty low. Not sure why.

In one week, we will come full circle in our grand adventure -- back to the Karp's driveway in Stamford, Connecticut. We are SO excited to see all our friends and family. But we did not miss this cold damp weather. Yuck.

See all of you soon.

Tanks, Panky

FTJ, Entry 117: In Les Mauvaises Terres

When we saw the Badlands, South Dakota, we immediately wondered if we were still on this planet. An unearthly, otherworldly place of stark and savage beauty and fearsome, arid ruggedness.

The Lakota originally called this area Paha ska (white mountains). But in the mid 1700s,  French explorers/trappers, frustrated with the sharp peaks and crumbling rocks, named it Les Mauvaises Terres, or "bad lands." Soon the Indians, too, began referring to it as the bad lands -- Mako sica (land bad). 

Not so us. Formed millions of years ago, some say the Badlands is a masterpiece of wind and water sculpture. We would agree. Land amazing.

The Badlands were once part of a giant salt water sea. Volcanic eruptions and upheavals pushed the sea floor up. As the water drained, it left marshy plains behind. Then about 25 million years ago, prehistoric animals roamed the area. When they died, they decayed into the marsh and riverbeds. Those layers of decay, plus layers of white volcanic ash eventually resulted in the "striped" plateaus and peaks. And gave us tons of fossils.

244,000 acres of this type of landscape. Like being on the moon.

The peaks are constantly eroding, losing about an inch a year.

Another result of erosion -- scattered mushroom formations.

A lot of the park looks like someone's giant sand sculpture.
(Hey -- do you like Beau's new cowboy hat? I love it.)

When the light is just right, some of the formations remind you of multicolored mounds of sherbet.

Other parts are eerie carved gray escarpments, etched against the sky.

Near the Door Trail in the Badlands.

 

At the Window trail.

Critters Galore

On one observation path I almost fell off the boardwalk when a little rabbit jumped right alongside me. He/she then froze, in typical bunny fashion.  

He was right next to me, as you can see.

And speaking of critters, when we drove on a gravel road off the major tour roads in the park, we saw bighorn sheep (all females) and a very large prairie dog town. Soooo cute.

The prairie dogs are very nonchalant about cars and people. They come right up to the car.

When alarmed, the prairie dogs "bark." We could hear them yipping all over the place.

 

Walled In

Wall Drug was up the road about a half hour or so, and we were curious to see it. Having not heard of Wall Drug before, then suddenly seeing nothing (and I mean nothing) else along the highway except for road signs advertising it, we spent a day there. Come to find out, it is a pretty famous place.

In a nutshell, here is the story of Wall Drug: In 1931 a pharmacist named Ted Hustead and his wife Dorothy bought a tiny drug store in the tiny town of Wall, South Dakota, basically in the middle of nowhere. (It still is in the middle of nowhere.) Why they bought it is a long story, but it had to do with there being a Catholic church in town and the fact that the people seemed kind and friendly. The store barely survived the first few years, and only took off when Dorothy had the idea of putting up a series of signs along the highway advertising free ice water -- which for people traveling the godforsaken route through the Badlands, must have sounded mighty appealing. Like finding an oasis in the desert.

Today,  there are still scores of signs advertising Wall Drug as you drive toward the park. There is nothing else. No towns, no buildings -- just these signs. A few examples:

 

Wall Drug is a very large, strange retail complex. Hard to describe the place. I guess it approximates what the result would be if Stew Leonard's (Norwalk, CT) and Pedro's South of the Border had a child. Wacky, tacky, kitschy, busy, strange.

 

 

Finally, just have to talk very briefly about the town we were staying in: Interior. 

There was nothing -- and I mean zilch --  there except for our campground, a gas station, some deteriorating homes and trailers, a tiny grocery, and one scary looking bar.

We saw maybe four of these 67 people roaming the area.

Note the sign on the porch. At least they're honest about it.

This sign on the way out of the Badlands KOA made me chuckle.

Wish I had taken this photo. It was on the side of the Wall Drug building.

We are at the tail end of our big tour, sad to say. We crossed the Mississippi just the other day, saying goodbye to the West. Depressing. But we will be back soon, if at all possible.

We zoomed through the rest of South Dakota, whipped through Minnesota, stayed a few days in Wisconsin, and then headed for the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. All I can say about that place is, "once is enough." A blog on that, and on Mackinaw City/Mackinac Island, to come.

Tanks, Panky