After another breakfast of gratis hotel waffles, we headed out to see a bit of Manitowoc.
On October 4, 1957, the Soviet Union launched Sputnik into orbit, effectively starting the space era of human existence. This also set off the space race between the USSR and the USA. Some of us still shudder at the sight of CCCP.
On May 5, 1960, the Soviet Union launched Sputnik 4 into orbit, and this was to be the test flight for a future launch which would put a human into orbit. Sputnik 4 was to reenter the earth's atmosphere four days later, but it failed to do so and was lost as one of the first pieces of inadvertent "space junk."
On September 5, 1962, over two years later, it finally found its way back into the unrelenting tug of earth's gravity. Most of it broke up and burned on reentry into the atmosphere, but a chunk of it made it all the way to terra firma in Manitowoc, Wisconsin, landing on 8th avenue. The sidewalk near this spot has a plaque marking the location. The actual landing spot has a brass ring embedded in the road.
So here I am standing on the exact spot where the first salvo was fired in a future space war. It hasn't happened yet, but the Russian's fired the first shot so long ago.
Interestingly, there is a theory, backed by some evidence, that Sputnik 4 was NOT a preparatory flight for a manned space flight, but was in fact an actual manned space flight. Since most of the successes of the early space race days were done quietly and only celebrated after, this could have been kept very quiet by the USSR. This makes the location in Manitowoc a little more macabre. Search Achille and Giovanni Battista for more information on this. And remember that some conspiracy theories really are correct.
All this space mayhem took place right in front of the Rahr art museum, where we also spent some time - if for no other reason than it also houses a replica of the Sputnik chunk. The original was returned to the USSR (it was probably needed for a proper burial).
I can't say fine art is really my thing, but if this one counts, then I guess I like art.
It was fitting that an Andy Warhol of (communist) Mao was at the museum.
There was also a pre-cubist Picasso.
I think this was the first time I got to see a real Dali print in person.
The least Georgia O'Keeffe painting I've ever seen. Maybe I'm looking at it wrong.
The Rahr museum itself is a near work of art as a mansion built in 1893 for Joseph and Mary Vilas. Joe was a successful businessman so the $50,000 it cost to build a 13-room house was money well spent. The entry to the museum is a little bit of a letdown as it is a newer addition that has an institutional feel to it. But much of the art is in the actual house which is a treasure if one ignores the requisite modernization of things like conduit and security cameras.
After revisiting the space race and seeing some art, we spent a short time at the Manitowoc Public Library en route to Lake Michigan. The library was right across the street from the Wisconsin Maritime Museum. We had seen this during a past visit and it would have been nice to do so again since that was so long ago, but timing didn't allow it. The USS Cobia looks as cool (and ominous) as it ever did moored in the channel.
The coelacanth is a fish which has a fossil record going back 66 million years and was "known extinct" - much like the dinosaurs or saber-toothed tigers were known extinct. It was "known extinct" until 1938 when Majorie Courtenay-Latimer "discovered" one at a market in East Africa. Both "known extinct" and "discovered" are in quotes, because they are both wrong. Obviously the fish was not "extinct" since one was available for purchase at a market. It wasn't "discovered" since this was a fish that while not common, was well-known to indigenous people who fished in the area. The fish was also known to be oily and quite foul tasting, and so it was often avoided. But it does illustrate a certain Euro-American-centric ignorance to say that the coelacanth was discovered after it was known to be extinct.
Moving on before this turns into some kind of finger-wagging lecture - which would be an imperfect message from a slightly hypocritical perspective anyway.
A huge coal-fired ferry has no right to exist. Diesel and gasoline replaced coal long ago. Electric also chipped away at it; electric continues to now chip away at petrol. Al Gore has been preaching the message of evil coal for some time (while living his uber-1%er lifestyle). Diesel is more efficient and faster. Wind is very green, although I wouldn't want to depend on a wind-powered ferry. Aircraft carriers are cold-war nuclear clean. But large coal-fired boats are extinct.
Except they are not. The SS Badger is a coelacanth. A huge coal-fired car ferry that carries 180 vehicles and 600 people back and forth across Lake Michigan between Mainotowac and Ludington should not exist in 2018. But it does and we should be glad about that - the coelacanth still swims and eats and mates.
The EPA (and other complainers) have tried to kill the SS Badger off several times. And changes like stopping the dumping of coal fly ash into the lake is a good thing. Still, I fear the SS Badger's days are numbered and it will only be a matter of time until it is shelved and sold for scrap or evolved from the living, breathing museum that it is into another mummified maritime museum. Heaven forbid we lose even more connection to our past and this persistent historic boat gets converted into some Elon-Muskovite electric water-Tesla. No, the world will not stop turning if SS Badger is scuttled. But the world wouldn't end of the coelacanth is killed off either, if it finally earns its "extinct" label.
I wanted to cross Lake Michigan on the coal-fired SS Badger before it is lost to modern-day oversensitivity. I wanted to ride the coelacanth!
Cars are driven on the boat by staff, but motorcycles are handled by their owners. Motorcycles staged near the SS Badger and a ship officer came out and gave us all some instructions on parking. After that, we all rode into the gaping maw of the coelacanth.
Once on the boat, we were directed to park with our front tires against the bulkhead. I had brought four sturdy tie downs, but several guys didn't. The ship had a few which could be used, but I wouldn't want to depend on them in rough waters. Four was almost certainly overkill, but better safe than sorry.
Eventually everyone got their bikes all tied down for the trip across the lake.
SO had to walk on the Badger, so I headed up ship and found her. Access to the car deck is forbidden when under way, but I was allowed briefly back down (before departure) as I had forgotten my sunglasses. It wasn't that I desperately needed them, but I was worried they would fall down into the never never of the coal-fired boat and be used for fuel. When down below I saw a tractor-trailer backing into one of the last available spots. Watching it expertly being put into a very small space was impressive.
Fuel for the boat sits idly by waiting to be used for future crossings. The burning of the coal does produce just a little bit of odor, but it was almost pleasant - in the same way an old barn feels comforting.
Watching the SS Badger pull away from the dock was surreal. The ship feels so huge and the coal burners run continuously so initial movement was almost imperceptible. The ship gains speed fast and announces its leaving with a crazy loud horn.
Many people staked out spots on deck before leaving. Once underway the wind whips up and many fled to more covered ground. We stayed out for a while, enjoying the cooling breezes of Lake Michigan while riding the yesteryear boat and watching Wisconsin fade into the distance.
After a while we headed toward the back of the boat to eat. En route, I looked down to see the parking deck. Originally the SS Badger was designed to carry train cars across the lake. Remnants tracks can still be seen in the decking.
The four-hour transit passed quite quickly on the boat. There is a small museum giving information about the boat (8000 horse power and 167,000 pounds of torque - jeepers steam can be impressive). There is a gift shop, TV lounge, XBox rental, a bar, and two places to eat.
Food on the boat was a little bit pricey, but all in all not too bad. SO and I both got Mexican food and it was actually very tasty. I wouldn't take the trip just for the culinary experience alone, but it wasn't bad as a meal. It probably helped that we were both very hungry.
While tying bikes down I was parked next to a man with a GS. I saw him on the deck and stopped to talk for a while. We talked various past and future adventures. He was a geographic modeler and was heading to Thailand soon to do work on tiger longevity; I just knew there was a story there!
Soon enough the sandy dunes of Michigan began to come into view. Against the blue water and humid haze of Lake Michigan, I could almost hear Eric Johnson playing Cliffs of Dover.
As with departing, watching and feeling the enormous boat pull a 180-degree turn in the water to back into port was impressive.
And then all of the passengers scrambled down and out. Cars were being driven out as I untethered the bike. The lake had been so calm that I'm not even sure that tying down was needed. But as the Arab proverb says: Trust Allah, but tie your camel tight. I eased out of the ship and onto Michigan bitumen.
Avoiding the rush of leaving vehicles, I headed through Ludington and out into Michigan's gorgeous and lightly-traveled rural roads. I was headed to see another of my Uncle and Aunts who have a cottage about an hour from Ludington. The ride there was spectacular. Cool temperatures with phenomenal light from the setting sun.
It took a few minutes on loose gravel and sand to find the cottage, but I kept the behemoth GL1800 upright. We visited for a few minutes until we decided to take advantage of the remaining light to boat around their lake. It was hard to believe we were the only boat out on such a nice night. As the sun set the placid scenery was an amazing end to the day.
This was followed by a "birthday" cake for me, even though my Aunt was
I'll have more time to ponder the day, but I'm really glad I fit the SS Badger into our route. No, coal is not the cleanest fuel, but some much of American history (and industrial history around the world) has been built on coal that it just seems wrong to relegate one of the last few huge coal vessels in the US to the scrapheap.
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