2023 Bear Hunt Day 5 - Turtle vs. Bear

I had a slower morning which allowed me to slowly start to feel human again.  A morning nap helped even more, to the point I was pretty sure I would be able to be fully functional.

After breakfast Kevin and I went up above the rapids to fish for pike - although there wasn't any rapids at all with the low water level.  We fished a bay for a while and brought in many pike.  None of them were very big, but it was the best fish action I had seen on this trip.  The river was calm, making it a truly spectacular morning.

Then Kevin brought in a nice Smallmouth and in taking is spoon off, he managed to brutally pierce his finger with the hook.  He tried to remedy the situation, but we had to end the morning of fishing early to get better attention to his impalement.  In the end, he went to the hospital which took most of the day.

Back in camp, Dalton, who was bow hunting the previous night, had recovered his bear - a nice boar.

Lunch was shore lunch which is always good, if not the healthiest thing to eat.  

Then it was upriver to hunt at Metros.  As soon as the mosquitoes came out I learned my lesson and got the Thermacell out.  I don't know if bears can smell it, but it sure does work to stop those blood suckers.

Feeling much better than the previous day, it was pretty easy to get settled.  I'd rather see bears, but watching the squirrels was entertaining.  I wish I spoke squirrel since I'm sure they announce when a bear is in the area.

The wind picked up considerably which made it very hard to hear anything.  This was made even worse since the stand is near the water and the waves also increased.  While the wind died down a bit later, the waves never did.

At some point I noticed movement near the barrel which was not a squirrel.  It took a few minutes to realize it was actually a turtle.  I can only assume that the turtle wanted some popcorn?

As it got dark I saw movement on the far side of the barrel and watched a bear slowly work toward the bait.  When I first saw it, it almost looked like it was waving at me - or I've been spending too much time on the bear stand.

The bear came in and knocked the wood out of the barrel.  If there was some ambiguity about the first night's bears, there was none that this was a small bear.  It only ate a little bit before heading off to the left, then coming back in for another mouthful.  I had to really think, but I just wasn't at the same point as the previous year when I shot a small bear.  Would I shoot something like this on the last night?  I'd say I'll have time to think, but when a bear comes in, sometimes there is little time to think.

It stayed on until dark when Carter (and Cassidy) came in to get me.  The full moon was absolutely mesmerizing.

Back in camp, Jody had shot a small bear.  A few other bears were seen, but we are still at four people with tags in their pockets.  Pork roast ended the day.  The bear hunting glass is either half full or half empty, but either way, there are three days left.

2023 Bear Hunt Day 4 - Blueberry Fields Never

I got up and looked through past bear adventures and reread some of them as well.  I realized that the previous night's scenario was as close to a replay of 2018 as would be possible; given how much can happen in bear hunting, having almost the same number and size of bears from the same stand seems improbable.  Maybe Vance is just trying to torture me and keep me ever second-guessing and beating myself up.

After breakfast I went fishing with Dave.  The morning was cool with just a bit of mist.  The previous night there was a storm which had gone through just north of the area, and parts of it lingered.

We fished a few bays looking for pike.  Top water baits were working quite well.  Most of the pike were small, but even small fish hitting buzz baits is exciting to see.

Dave did hook into an absolute tank of a pike.  I grabbed the net before Dave said the cradle net would be needed.  He asked me, "Have you used a cradle net before?"

"A few times a long time ago."

We switched jobs, me tiring the fish out and bringing it in while he netted it.  It was a big, slimy, awesome 41.5 inch pike.  Once caught and and measured, it was carefully released.  "I broke my rule, never fish for pike with clients."  I was fine with it.

After lunch I went downriver, sitting at the Blueberry stand.  The stand was comfortable but I had a terrible time not squirming.  All day I had the start of a headache and it continued to get worse.  I'm not sure what dude suddenly starts to get migraines after bouncing around the planet for several decades, but here we are.

I still enjoyed the time ... mostly.  At one point what sounded like a family in a canoe came into the channel where the stand sat.  I was annoyed, but in reality the effect was probably minimal since it was still early.

Sadly, I sat all afternoon without seeing anything.  That is a long time to sit with a headache to keep me company and no bears.

As I was waiting to get picked up an incredibly bright full moon rose behind me.  When I first saw it, I actually thought it was a light of someone walking through the bear-infested woods and even wondered if they were getting me from a different direction (had the boat sunk?).  The bright moon cast eerie shadows.  This was made even more disconcerting when I started to hear noises from the bait that were very odd, but I knew it wasn't a bear.  Eventually I couldn't stand it and hit the barrel with my flashlight.  Sitting on top of the barrel was a huge raccoon.  Bears and raccoons do share a lot of similar characteristics, so maybe for the evening racoons are just small, masked bears.

I probably would have enjoyed the 1.5 hours waiting to get picked up, but with my headache it was that much worse.  Eventually Dave made his way to me, "There better be a good story here."  Tad had shot a decent sized sow and Daniel had taken the very large bear he had seen the previous night.  We got the bears loaded in the truck and headed back to camp.  Once in camp, I skipped dinner and went straight to sleep hoping morning would bring relief.

2023 Bear Hunt Day 3 - Maybe ... But No

My mind started going 100MPH as soon as I woke up.  I don't have anything to prove to anyone but felt panic over shooting a small bear.  I knew I had to get up.  Coffee was also calling ... loudly.

Mosquito bites reminded me to put my Thermacell into my hunting pack.  Then I went through my hunting and fishing stuff to make sure everything was ready - or at least ready enough.  I'm sure I'll forget something.  At least the forecast weather for the first few days looks spectacular.  

It took me a while to get the TV to work on satellite allowing me to watch all the terrible things that were happening across Canada and the world.  Canada's reputation for being "nice" wasn't seeming very real.  I wished I had a book or some other distraction.

After a larger breakfast than I ever eat at home, Tyler took me out fishing.  Being alone in camp, I'm sometimes odd-man-out in a larger group, but this gave me lots of room to fish.  Temperatures were cool but definitely not cold.  We went up to Lamprey Right Bay and cast for pike.  I caught a few hammer handles, but that was it.

We looped around to Stump Bay and cast there for a while.  I tried a handful of lures but only had a few tepid hits.  There is a tendency to think that choosing the right lure will mean catching a lot of fish, but I'm quite sure fishing is more dictated by the fish than the tackle.  Still, changing locations and lures are about the only levers ... or just give up.

I did hook into a couple nice smallmouth bass.  These weren't from areas that looked very bassy, so I can only assume that these fish thought they were pike.

Fishing over and after lunch Kevin took Mark and I a short way up river, dropping me off at Petrushney Bay.  I've hunted this stand at least once before and didn't see anything from it.  It was now a nice double-ladder stand that was easy to get comfortable - or at least as comfortable as possible for the first night in a stand in many months.

Once settled, the crows were crazy noisy.  I know crows are considered really smart birds but do they have to talk about it so much?  The mosquitoes were right on the edge of being annoying.  They would come in by ones and twos.  There was just enough wind that I wasn't sure the Thermacell would would work well, so I didn't use it.  I was also assuming that they couldn't get through my heavier clothes I was wearing.  This ended up being a BIG mistake.  Once back at the lodge for the evening I had huge Manitoba welts all over.  Lesson learned ... or not.

The weather was breezy to almost windy at times, while at other times it would get scary calm.  I tried to keep still on the stand, but did end up squirming a bit more than I would like.  Around 7:00 I saw a distinctive shape in front of me.  Freezing, I saw a bear carefully moving through the brush toward me and the bait.  It looked right up at me, backed out, but then changed its mind and went back in to the bait.  The barrel was on its side and the bear next to it barely came up to the top (side) of it.  I just didn't think this was a big bear - maybe in the 5 foot range.  It stayed in the area for about 20 minutes, knocking the logs out of the way and happily eating popcorn.  Maybe it was hoping for a movie too.

About 10 minutes after that first left, a second one came out.  It was definitely a bit smaller than the first, and much more cautious.  It only stayed for about 5 minutes, following nearly the same path away as the first bear.

I realized through the bear encounters that the weather had turned breathlessly calm.  The mosquitoes had also amped up their aggression.  But it was too late for all the movement that firing up the Thermacell would require.

Around 8:25 a third bear came it after sounding like an elephant stomping through the grass - bears making this much noise is not very normal.  I guesstimated its size was maybe approaching six feet, but probably still under.  It hung around eating candy and popcorn until right near the end of shooting light.  

The path to get back to the boat landing was a bit of a twist and I didn't want to try to find it in the dark so I just sat quietly in ever darkening stand.  A fourth bear came in much later.  I never did see it - seeing just the black silhouette of a black bear against the black night.  I'm not sure what it was eating, but it was chomping very, very loudly.  Five minutes later I heard the boat come in.  The bear didn't run until Kevin was very close to the area. I carefully and quietly got out and we walked back to the boat.

Mark hadn't seen anything - which I know makes it a long time to sit on the stand.

Back in camp, Curt had shot a small bear - not the monster he was after.  About half the hunters had seen bears.  One of the Texas guys had passed on what looked like a brute.  Of course until one touches it it is Schrodinger's bear - both big and small, bears are so incredibly difficult to judge on the hoof.

I showed my pictures of the bears to a few of the guides.  General consensus was that they were decent but not monsters.  This didn't make me feel very good about not shooting - the previous year's two-bear sightings was fresh in my memory.  The other experienced hunter from Minnesota agreed it wasn't a day one shooter - at least making me feel a bit better.  After eight bear hunts, I still struggle with bear size and trying to reconcile that with what I know is out there, what I'll be content with and what kind of regret I might be setting myself up to live with.  So much of hunting is mental and an exercise in personal psychology.  I sometimes struggle with this since in the absence of any external influence, I'd probably be just fine with an average bear.  But between the cost of coming up here, guides and other others, and this being my eighth hunt - there is an illusion of pressure.  Yet I know the external is only an illusion.

Back in camp we had lasagna with enough garlic to kill Dracula.  This was good, but a bit much when dinner is after I'd prefer to be in bed.  Given the late hour - I think the Caesar salad - which had a really good spicy dressing - would have been enough.

2023 Bear Hunt Day 2 - Back in Camp

After a better night's sleep than the previous, I was up putzing around and tried to pay the most hateful Illinois toll online only to find there is now no way to do this without setting up an account.  How much do I hate Illinois?  Let me count the ways.  Actually - in all fairness - I've found Illinois people, especially south of Chicago, to be friendly and genuine; I feel so bad for them that they are subjects to the contempt of the Illinois government.  The loathsome Illinois toll/tax was offset by hotel room coffee that was surprisingly tolerable.

I couldn't come up with a reason to stay, so I packed up and hit the road around 4:30.  The St. Francis border crossing always seems like I'm somewhere I shouldn't be.  And after bitching about a $2 toll to Illinois, the $7 to cross the bridge at the border seems oddly reasonable.  I guess it is just me.

The border guards seemed bored so early in the morning, but they were also really friendly.  They actually checked the serial numbers on my guns which hasn't happened in a long time.  This also meant unpacking just about everything from the Maverick.  He commented that he liked the TC shotgun as well, "I almost never see a slug gun like that with glass up here."

Once through the border I made my way north and west.  I had the most stunning sunrise which I could only get a few glimpses of in the boggy areas.  The pictures didn't do it justice through the window of the trucklette.

My mileage was absolutely amazing for the first hundred miles.  It did trend down a bit after this, but nearly 40mpg from a Maverick with the 2.0 Turbo is shocking.

I stopped in Kenora to get some more food even though I didn't need it.  While getting out of the vehicle a girl hit me up for spare change.  I was really curious about the story there since she didn't look like someone who should be asking for money.  I had a good wad of change which I gave her (all US coins through).  The world is almost never, ever fair.

I continued on and at a biobreak I thought the Maverick looked really cool with the northy birch trees, etc.  When I took this picture something was scurrying around in the dumpster only a short distance away.  I couldn't help but look, "If this is a bear, I'm running."  But it was just a really noisy squirrel.

As is usually the case I got to camp way too early.  I hung out and just enjoyed practicing doing nothing - not something I'm very good at.  I did take one of the fishing poles off the big boat to cast for a bit, but I dropped another one in the water when I took it out of the rod holder.  I had a great sense of relief when I was able to snag it and bring it back up.

Vance had new hunting areas which are not accessible by boat, so I went along with him to bait them - any chance to see more bear baits.  A few of them were accessed by a very long 4-wheeler trails which was a little rough being a back passenger on the 4-wheeler.  I'm not so sure how this will work while hunting, but we'll see.

A few of the baits were hit hard and some weren't touched.  So it goes.

We stopped in at the rice lake on our way out.  Vance walked through the property giving me the big tour.  The lake (where they also duck hunt) was absolutely gorgeous.

The buildings were an exercise in contemporary archeology.  Most of the equipment is home made so it was really interesting to see it all.  Wild rice is hit or miss and even on a good year it looks like it is a phenomenal amount of work.  The family that owns it is getting older and the future of the entire operation is in question.  I left with a bit of melancholy at what could end up being lost.

Back in camp four people from Kentucky were there (Curt, Jodi, Mark and Tammy - I think...).  The rest of the people filtered in over the rest of the afternoon.  There were a few people from Minnesota, a group of four from Texas.  Names will have to wait until later; maybe I'll know them all by the end of the week.

2023 Bear Hunt Day 1 - Travels with Steinbeck

After a fitful night of sleep, I woke up way too early.  I tried to get back to sleep but once my brain started thinking about work, I had no choice but get up and make a cup of hotel-room coffee to start the day.  Stupid brain...
There was no reason to dither, so I got up and packed up as quietly as I could to hit the road.

Traffic was predictably low at the early hour and it was nice just poking along barely above the speed limit.  Winds all day trended from the north, so my mileage suffered; slowing down did help.

Temperatures were cool and they dropped all day.  There was a bit of rain in northern Wisconsin and into Minnesota, but never enough to really matter.

I listened to Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck almost the whole day.  I had downloaded this book quite some time ago, but with my canine issues the previous year, I just couldn't bring myself to listen to it.  I'm glad I didn't force it then since it ended up being the right book at the right time (mostly).  There were so many parts of the book that Steinbeck lyrically wrote about road trips - and sights and sounds and smells - that I could relate to so well.  There were also many quotes I tried to save, but I'm sure I lost a few.

The overall theme of the book is that one can't know America (or any country) by external means.  And looking internally will be affected by the what that is looked at and the external conditions and forces at that time.  I find this so true; some of the best meals of my life have been with SO while on Motorcycle trips - but were so good mostly because of the entirety of the day.  And as much as I've been to the same areas many times, they have never been the same experience.

Yellowstone is no more representative of America than is Disneyland.

Steinbeck also talks about how much the Redwoods, his former home area, had changed.  Having just taken a trip near my former stomping grounds, this is something I live frequently.  I loved that he didn't come to any conclusions or right/wrong about this.  But this builds on the theme of knowing a place and how it is experienced is affected by time.

[On Redwood Trees] Can it be that we do not love to be reminded that we are very young and callow in a world that was old when we came into it? And could there be a strong resistance to the certainty that a living world will continue its stately way when we no longer inhabit it?

Not all of the book was positive however.

Early in the book he talks about hunters in the most negative terms possible which was disappointing.  This ends up being hypocritical when late in the book he considers shooting a coyote but decides not to - suggesting only that he is too old to do this.  I guess since I'm headed out on a hunting trip, this whole bit about how terrible hunters are seemed hopelessly myopic.

I was excited when he started to talk about the Midwest since I think there are many areas which, while maybe not gems, are unsung.  But instead he goes on and on about mobile homes.  Granted this was a fairly new thing in the early 1960s and Steinbeck does talk about them quite positively, but it was disappointing that that was so much of what he wrote about.  Later he does talk about the hoards of them springing up in his beloved California as well, so I guess it isn't so bad.  He also talks about the genuine friendliness of the Midwest - which is something I truly believe having traveled around the country so much.

The book ends on a total downer when he spends about 15% of the text dwelling on racism in the South.  Granted his experience in 1962 was radically different than what I've experienced, but it was sad so much was devoted to this when - even then - the South was more than this.  Racism was also something he specifically looked for.  One would hope that if Steinbeck were traveling around with a poodle now, there would still be plenty of flaws to be discussed, but spending so much to end on the negative would take more effort.  Syntax is everything in writing.  I'll also argue a poodle was not the right choice in 1962, and would not be the right choice today.

Even with the negatives, the book made the drive go, if not always quickly, at least pleasantly.  There were hardly any slowdowns until ... Duluth.  Oh Duluth - what a mess you are for at least the third year in a row.  I'm convinced trying to follow the detour signs for US53 in Duluth is impossible.  At one point, there were 2 detour signs pointing in opposite directions.  As I have previously done, I ended up using a mix of GPS and dead reckoning to get where I want to go.  I did have an epiphany when I realized the reason Duluth drivers go sooooo sssslllllooooowwwwww - they must have learned that one wrong turn in a construction area could mean being stuck in an infinite loop that it is impossible to get out of - so every decision must be made with great deliberation.

Once through Duluth the drive got more northy.  I continued putzing along since I knew I was on target to get to the hotel way too early.  Trees were starting to change already giving me hope that the previous year's lack of bear activity might not be repeated?  Maybe that is a hopeful leap.

Once into International Falls I found my hotel - the same place I stayed in 2014.  I can't say the place has improved in the last decade, but it was good enough.  Since I was able to park right outside my door, I brought almost everything in - which looked ridiculous for one night in a hotel.  It is a bit hard to believe so much junk can fit in a Maverick.  So hunting trips go.

2023 Bear Hunt Day -0.5 - On the Road

I like summer.  There is always too much to do.  Summer means bicycle rides and cicadas and crickets and shorts and humidity and motorcycles and Queen Anne's lace.

I also hate summer.  The doldrums of work-eat-sleep-repeat.  There is always too much to do.  It doesn't get dark until long after I want to be asleep.  The heat and humidity.

David Foster Wallace may have said it best, "There happen to be whole large parts of adult American life that nobody talks about..."  Or maybe it was Hunter Thompson, "That maddening delusion that a man can lead a decent life without selling himself out as a Judas goat."

We're starting to turn; hints of those first oddly cool mornings that remind us the northern half of the earth is starting to tilt into its own shadow.  Sunset has pulled back to a more reasonable hour.  Sunrise waits to give me a few more minutes of blessed quiet on weekend mornings.  The time between the Perseids and Orinids is unquestionably magical.  That is ... until this past week which ended up being the hottest week of the year.  Possibly the hottest week of several years if the local news is to be believed.  This makes thinking about things like bear hunting and deer hunting (not that far away) much harder to think about.

But a vacation day allowed the lawn to be mowed - hoping that a wallop of rain on Thursday doesn't make it grow too too much.

And Friday finally came.  It was a blessedly slow day.  I'm not sure where my boss was most of the day but I finally ran into him about 20 minutes before I wanted to leave.  "I'll catch up with you later," he says.

"There is no later, I'm out of here by 1:00."

We caught up for a few minutes and after organizing things in the trucklette I was on the road.

I headed out and got around Indianapolis before rush hour.  That city is perpetually under massive construction.  I'm convinced it will never end.  Traffic thinned considerably as I motored along listening to podcasts.  Has RadioLab gone downhill?

There was one moderate construction slowdown around Bloomington and I was in Mendota - probably at the same hotel I stayed at in 2019.  It was still brutally hot, making unpacking a bit painful.  Temperatures were forecast to come down.  The Maverick was (hopefully) safely parked next to its big cousin.  

The day ended with a noodle bowl, Oreos The Most Stuf and gratitude that I can do this yet again.

2023 Combat Run Days 1&2 - Brits and Old Friends

This isn't smart.  I've only had 1 weekend home.  I've got another big adventure just around the corner.  The lawn is long enough I'm surprised one of the farmers around home haven't asked to bale it yet.  But sometimes life is more interesting if I choose to do the less-smart decision.  Besides, this is a good chance to see a bunch of cool people and cool stuff.

Why Combat run?  A few hundred miles north just to turn around and go home the next day is definitely a combat run...

North: 298.0 Miles

My target ETA was to get to Mark's at 10:00.  This meant leaving home around 4:00.  Thankfully I'm an early riser.  Temperatures were cold enough I decided not to wear my mesh jacket; this ended up being the right decision.  I was out the door shortly after 4:00 riding my Triumph through deer infested roads once again.  This time it was made worse by darkness and heavy fog.  I proceeded carefully.

Between the temperatures and the dampness it was cold.  I was just on the edge of shivering through much of the day.  Even once it started to warm up, I never really did feel warm.

Daylight did finally start to emerge as I continued north.  I stopped at my favorite bathroom, but found out its doors must be locked at night.  I had to make due.

Once well into Michigan the weather turned almost perfect with bluebird skies, low winds and pleasant temperatures.  I made it to Mark's at 10:01.  We only talked for a short bit before jumping in his MGB and heading out to the park.  Mark was most gracious and made a sandwich for me to take to the park.  Good people.  It felt exceedingly odd to be sitting in the passenger seat of an MGB; I do not remember the last time this happened.  His car was having clutch problems so it was an adventure in driving.  Some things never change.  We met Donna at a gas station and off we caravanned to the park.

Once at the park we were instantly met by former coworkers.  It was a reunion of sorts with lots of brief catching ups.  These were the more superficial kind that happen when we see people for the first time in many years and in a public setting, "How ya doing?"  "You still working for ???"  "How old is your kid?"  It was fun hearing what everyone was doing.  Chris was there with his two kids; I really enjoyed catching up with him and seeing his two kids - even if they didn't seem too thrilled to be there.

One former customer of the shop remembered I had built the engine in his MGA, "So is it still running?"  "Oh yeah!  Runs great.  And you built that in 19 ... 19 ... 19993?"  Some days I feel older than others.

Brian and Jim didn't recognize me and Jim didn't remember my name.  So it goes.  It is unquestionably true that I was at a more impressionable age when I was working with them than they were.  And I'm sure I look like nothing like the "kid" they remember.

The meet was a lot of the same people and the same cars, but also a few oddities that kept it interesting.  My favorite had to be an MGTB that was running and driving, but with a patina that screamed old school.  20-something year old me would have been more enamored with the MGB V8s and maybe I still was - just not in the same way.

After a couple hours I was pretty much done.  There were a little less than 100 cars there, so a fraction of what it was 30 years ago.  I was just thrilled I could be there.

Back at Mark's, Susan was up so we talked for quite a bit.  We both had dog sagas last year - it is amazing how much those little guys end up dominating our lives.  Marty knew I was a dog people.  

Mark and I went out to take a bike ride after being reprimanded by his neighbor for walking 10 feet across private property.  So it goes.  I do truly love being able to ride these rail-to-bike paths, but it isn't worth driving to ride them near home.  I'll continue to suffer on my hills.

Dinner was mostly from their garden and was phenomenal.  The evening ended with garden blueberries and ice cream.  Fat-me was trying to make a comeback.

___________________________

South: 302.7

I slept well, but woke up a lot.  I was worried that my questionable hydration would bring on a migraine and make the trip home excruciating, but thankfully that didn't happen.  Eventually I couldn't stand it and got up; Mark happened to be getting up at the same time.  I had no reason to leave in the dark, so we sat in his gazebo by the fire and solved all the world's problems.  The tree frogs were grunting, crickets making their racket, other insects buzzing.  It was, quite frankly, an amazing morning.  

Soon enough it started to get light.  I finished packing and left shortly before sunrise.  A deer in the woods right by the driveway had me veer to the right and I ended up in the soft stuff, almost dumping the triumph.  Almost...

Once on the road it was a motorcyclist's dream morning.  Cool, dry conditions.  Gorgeous sunrise.  No one on the road.  This just continued the magic of the morning.

I easily settled into the drive.  Once near Fort Wayne, I decided to take the Ohio route home instead of Indiana to avoid the two ugly construction zones.  This was probably the right decision, but I may have evolved into a too-strong go-home mode.  There were many cars which demanded to be passed.  

Soon enough I was near home.  Thankfully the heat and humidity waited until I was almost home.

It has definitely been one of those week-long weekends.  I loved the time on the road - thinking time.  I love catching up with old friends.  And I treasure that I still have some old friends to catch up with.

We're just two lost souls

Swimming in a fish bowl

Year after year

Running over the same old ground

What have we found?

The same old fears

Wish you were here

2023 Family 350 Day 5 - Home Again

VRBO House to Home:  517.3 Miles

(oddly exactly 1 mile difference than the northbound trip - which is about the same as the extra distance traveled to get gas at one stop on the way up).

I woke up at my usual too-early hour.  I tried to get back to sleep, but it was hopeless.  I thought about making coffee and putzing around, but decided I was already in go-home mode.  I packed up and cleaned up and got ready to leave.

The garage our VRBO host was kind enough to let me use had a light - or at least a light bulb in the ceiling, but I couldn't figure out how to turn it on.  The garage door opener light was inoperable.  So all my packing was done by braille.  This made me a bit nervous that I would leave something behind.

Almost convinced I had everything, I was on the bike making my way through deer-infested roads by 4:00AM.

Temperatures were in the lower 50s which was too cool for my mesh jacket.  I was wearing my rain liner which helped, but it also made everything feel clammy.  Between that, the dark, intermittent fog and not knowing the area very well, the first few miles were uncomfortable.  But I was the only vehicle on the road so I was able to take my time.

Once on the larger roads I settled in much quicker than I had for the ride north.  There was one heinous construction zone in Alanson, but I found a quick way around that and was on my way for the easy routing for the rest of the day.

Because it was dark I missed the best scenery of the moosey, boggy North.  But the pay-off (in addition to getting home earlier) was a beautiful sunrise as I motored on.

I spent a lot of time thinking about siblings and how great it was to see them for a few days.  I suppose we are all getting older, but I still end up feeling like a little kid around them and my mom.  Maybe that is true for everyone?

Traffic hadn't picked up by Lansing yet so it was easy to get around it.  Then a straight shot south.

Once off the interstate in Indiana the Amish were exceedingly busy.  I had never seen so many buggies out buggying around.  No harm though - just slow down and pass on by.  Sometimes rear-facing kids even wave at me.

As I got closer to home, I went past the land I hunt deer on, then onto the roads I bicycle on, then onto my dog-walking roads.  Soon enough, I was home with enough time to get some things done.  It had felt like Sunday all day, so it was good to know I had a day to unwind before returning to ... that other thing.

2023 Family 350 Day 4 - Fish and Fish

Once we all got going my sisters and I headed down towards Petoskey and went to Spring Lake Park.  The plan was to take my nephew fishing, but first we headed out on a moderate hike.  Traffic can be bonkers around Petoskey, but it was early.  The area around the state park and the smaller (county? township?) park was relatively quiet.  The path we were on was paved and there was a mix of walkers and bicycles, but nowhere near the mayhem of Mackinac Island.  It was all very pleasant.  Various small lakes and ponds kept things interesting.

Back at Spring Lake, my brother and I helped my nephew catch several bluegills.  It was a great location for him to do so since there were a lot of fish and it was really easy to fish right off the dock.  He was able to bring in around 7 small bluegills and sunfish.  There were always fish biting, but many were too small to use even the smaller hooks we were using.  We used a mix of casting a short ways and fishing right off the dock.  The fish out a bit more did seem to be a bit bigger but not significantly so.  Our VRBO hosts suggestion was perfect for what we were looking for.  My nephew seemed to have a lot of fun and did much better than his previous fishing.

We had a bit more time so we went up to the Ogden Fish Hatchery.  We weren't able to hit the actual tour, but we were able to see what I assume to be almost the same things.  A short walk from where we parked was the "Big Fish Pond."  I wasn't sure if it was a pond with big fish or a big pond with fish, but it appeared to be both.  Many species of trout were swimming around and there were lots of good size fish.  Throwing in the available fish food caused a feeding frenzy.

A short walk further brought us to the stream viewing area followed by the visitor center.  I was a bit confused by the train car at first, but it had some exhibits about the market fishing from the early days of European influence in Northern Michigan.

A walk back brought us to the car.  But after all the walking and hiking over the previous days, my legs were feeling it.  The fish hatchery was well worth the short diversion.

Back at home we got Mom and went out to the Legs Inn for dinner.  We went early to avoid the rush which was probably the right thing to do since it was already quite busy.  The food was good as was the atmosphere.  On my best days I'm somewhat neutral on restaurants, so it was a little unusual for me.  But the food was good.

After dinner we went out behind the restaurant where there was a gorgeous view of Lake Michigan.  The weather was almost perfect.  Oddly, there was a bit of an off-smell which hinted at sewage which was a little off-putting?

Back at our rental house the key got stuck in the door.  Thankfully - if stupidly - we had left another door open.  I did find the situation more aggravating than it really should have been.  Our host did come and fix in quickly which gave me a chance to thank him for the excellent suggestion on the kid-fishing.  But perhaps this was also a sign that it was time to head home.

2023 Family 350 Day 3 - Bugs Blueberries and Worms

After morning coffee I headed out with my sisters to the Wilderness State Park.  My phone GPS routed us to the south end of the park, which wasn't the original plan, but we went with it.  

We parked at the trail head and headed north on one of the trails.  It was a narrow trail but with a little bit of everything.  Lots of elevation changes, quiet wooded areas and much greenery - including tons of ferns.

In a few cases, we found company.  These guys have much work to do since the bugs were quite bad.

There was also quite the crop of wild blueberries growing.  I expected to see bears, but didn't see any evidence of large mammals, even deer.

We eventually made our way to the Sturgeon Bay Trail and walked it.  We didn't get much in the way of views of the lake, but it was still pretty.  We briefly interrupted a couple in one of the cabins, until making our way down to the bay.  By this point the wind was blowing and the shallow bay was on the wavy side.

Since we started at the south end, it wasn't realistic to do a loop and the hiking ended up being out and back.  It was long enough that it didn't really seem like it was it was an out-n-back hike.

As we made it past one of the swampy ponds a great blue heron flew very close - almost like it was showing off.

When we left, we were the only car at the trail head.  Once we returned there were several other cars, but we had seen almost no one on the trail with the exception of right near the cabins.

We headed to O'Neal Lake since it looked like a good option to allow my nephew to fish.  It definitely appeared to be a good lake as I saw several bluegills swimming right near the dam.  Unfortunately, the road to get to O'Neal Lake was probably not best for a Prius.  It wasn't terrible, but I suspect my brother would not have liked it.

The lake itself was both deserted and gorgeous.

We drove south a little farther for gas and to ask for other options for nephew fishing.  We got some leads, but nothing really stuck out as a good option except the fish hatchery.  That would have been a good option, but the catch-and-release only happens on certain days.

After a bit more driving, we headed back to the house where I was able to corner our Host who gave some additional advice on where to fish.  This led to worm hunting which was far more difficult than it should have been.  But Big Sis and I were able to find at least a starting group of worms.

2023 Family 350 Day 2 - Those Poor Horses

I was up early drinking coffee enjoying the quiet of the morning.  The plan was to go to Mackinac Island so I read a bit about the history.  Much like the rest of the US the world, its history is one which starts with military conquest in the form of both French and English forts - the great lakes being an important water system to control.  The name, originally Michilimackinac, must have been a mouthful so it was shortened to Mackinac - still a mouthful.  I'd prefer it just be called The Place of the Great Turtle.  So The Island of the Great Turtle.

Mackinac Island is synonymous with two things - fudge and the absence of cars.  The whole fudge thing started in the 1920s, and there are many stories about its origins on the island.  Suffice to say, weight gain is not prominent in any of the stories.  The lack of cars goes back to July of 1898 when villagers petitioned the city council to prohibit these new reckless horseless carriages since they scared the horses (must be weenie horses?).  It stuck and continues to this day.

Big Sis and I headed out relatively early to take the ferry to the Island.  After parking and getting our tickets, we had some time to kill since the ferry didn't go out for another hour.  We walked along Mackinac City coastline.  The Big Mac bridge dominates the skyline as an impressive and very pretty bridge.  The spots in the photograph are bugs, which are neither impressive or pretty.

I've driven across the bridge several times, but I had the chance to get a totally new perspective by going under it.  Frankly, it was one of the coolest things I've seen in recent memory.

Soon enough the ferry came and we boated across the water.  Approaching the island it looks like any other coastal area with tourist tendencies with the imposing Grand Hotel.  Getting off the ferry, the main street was quaint enough, if a bit busy.  It was early ... it got worse.

We walked around a bit before heading out to walk the entire perimeter of the island.  We walked counterclockwise, thus setting in motion only one future based on that direction.  Walking was a lot of fun.  Early on there were not that many people on bicycles and we talked many of the world problems.  Views of the water were stunning in places.

We hoofed up the stairs to see the Arch which was neat enough (I guess), but this exact same picture is probably taken hundreds of times every day.  So it goes.  Compared to Utah, it is a bit anticlimactic, but the same picture phenomenon exists there as well.  I was glad that we were early so we could see it without hordes of people.

The entire perimeter is 8.2 miles.  Both of us walk a lot so it wasn't strenuous at all.  Traffic picked up and made the last couple miles not quite as pleasant.  Mackinac Island may be car free, but the bicycles piloted by inexperienced riders made it feel nearly as deadly.

There was one dude who is my hero for the day - pedaling along he was carrying both his kid and his kid's bike on his back.  These are the heroes we need more of in this world.

There must be a route where people can "drive" their own horse carts since there were dazed looking people in smaller carts with the saddest looking horses trudging along a shorter section of the perimeter road.  The "drivers" all must have been given the same instructions, although I strongly suspect the well-trained horses are actually in charge with the people playing a more ceremonial role.

Back in the main downtown area, it was an ugly reptile zoo filled with people, horses, people, carts, people, bikes, people, fudge, people, but no cars.  We had met up with Brother and family along the walk (they were on bikes), but we ended up doing our own separate things.

Sis and I walked up to Fort Mackinac, but decided not to pay the tax to get in.  This was the right decision since later we could see it was filled with a similar subset of kids and people.  We continued on to Fort Holmes which was nearly deserted by comparison.  The view from the top and highest point on the island was gorgeous.  

We had walked well over 11 miles at this time and were ready to be done.  I did buy some obligatory fudge, but wasn't sure if it was sweet enough - they should sell it with a glass of maple syrup (yes, I am being quite sarcastic).  Every time I saw these tragically horrid horse carts, I couldn't help but think they looked like Fellini in the movie A Boy and His Dog.  And while I realize they are draft animals, it seems a rather sad existence.

Back on the ferry we headed back across the water and to the (relative) quiet of our rented 350 acres.  

Little Sis was there by that time, and it was good to see her as well.

I spent quite a bit of time trying to put some perspective on Mackinac Island.  It is much like any other touristy place, but the lack of cars seems to be an additional draw.  It may bring a bit of quaintness compared to other places, but with all the people and bikes, that quaintness gets erased quickly.  It isn't a bad place and I was glad I went.  The mostly undeveloped areas are treasures.  It wasn't a place I feel some irresistible draw to ever go back to.

2023 Family 350 Day 1 - The House Next To Evil Dead House

My fishing trip a couple weeks ago not withstanding, I'm due for a break - longer than a day.  The fuse to aggravation is a bit shorter than it normally is while my sense of humor insists on going in a less humorous direction.  Working from home helps; at least there, I can step back and pause before doing the wrong thing.

The weather hasn't helped - with the dog days of summer heat (so hot the dogs go mad) and some brutal thunderstorms.  It's not the heat and it's not the humidity - it's all the people bitchin' about the heat and humidity - Wayne R (RIP).

"When are you gone?" asks my boss.

"Tuesday through Friday ... next week."

"Are you around home?"

"Getting together with my family in Northern Michigan."

"And how are you getting there?" 

"?"

"Can you call in Tuesday to a meeting if needed?"

"I'll be on my motorcycle.  It's a long drive."

I do feel a bit bad that I'm getting an award at work and won't be there to be recognized.  I thought about trying to reschedule, but the complications quickly begin to multiply.  

The gods are fallen and all safety gone. And there is one sure thing about the fall of gods: they do not fall a little; they crash and shatter or sink deeply into green muck. It is a tedious job to build them up again; they never quite shine. - John Steinbeck

Monday ended with a typical level of angst about all that can go wrong at work, but things were in a relatively good place.

Tuesday morning did eventually arrive.  I walked outside well before dawn.  The air was cool and still; I love the magical early morning moments.  Frogs were contentedly gurping in the ponds to the north.  An owl was hooting off to the northeast.  Part of me didn't want to leave.

Home to VRBO House: 518.3 Miles

I left and drove through the roads I frequently walk the dogs on, then on to my bicycle roads, then past the land I hunt on and onwards north.

I had a hard time settling in to the ride.  The last time I did anything like a motorcycle road trip was the previous year in May.  I definitely felt out of practice.

I let my mind wander wherever it wanted to go.  Surprisingly (and happily) it rarely sunk to work.  When it did, I let it linger before moving on to other things.

Temperatures were cool - I was wearing my mesh jacket and wished I had my "real" touring jacket.  But I made do.  Traffic wasn't too bad and the construction zones were easy to get around.

I made my way around Fort Wayne and onto the interstate.  Brainless...

Making my way into Michigan and around Lansing, I headed north on US127.  I expected US127 to go to two lanes quickly, but it stayed four-lane divided the entire way with speed limits of 75MPH.  I happily putzed along.

As the afternoon progressed, the area started to get very Northy-looking with birch trees and boggy areas.  It reminded me a lot of the area around Kenora, Ontario.  In places, the roads were almost as bad.

It became evident once I entered the touristy area as the number of billboards increased.  These things have their place and can (rarely) be helpful, but the shear number was utterly vulgar.

I was the first person to arrive at the house.  I wore ear plugs all day, but my head was still buzzing.  The house looked good enough if a bit weathered outside.  The house sits on 350 acres and for the price I wasn't expecting anything too amazing; comfortable will work.

My older sister and Mom showed up a few minutes later, followed by our host.  We talked for a few minutes before exploring the house.

There were lots of rooms but the house showed its age with wrinkly floors and bathrooms that were definitely an afterthought.  The smell was a bit odd, but not in a totally disagreeable way - perhaps just a lingering question mark.  Overall - a win for sure though.

After unpacking we claimed bedrooms.  I took the room with the air conditioner - not because it was hot, but I wanted the white noise.

Big Sis and I took a short walk (maybe it qualifies as a hike?).  The property was gorgeous with deer everywhere.  At one point we exited some heavy woods into a big pretty valley.

A broken windmill sat near a hilltop with a shed - this reminded me of the beginning of the Bruce Campbell movie Evil Dead.

We got turned around a bit before heading back to the house.  The invasive wild Mullein was a bit much in places.  It looked almost listless - like it was biding its time before eliminating humanity.  It still seems far less objectionable than bush honeysuckle.

Back at the house, Brother and Family showed up a bit later.  Everyone was in good spirits as we talked - my nephew was a hoot, sharing his frog game that he had invented.  My brother even had cards printed up, making it look like a "real" game.

Pizza and salad dinner ended the day followed by everyone catching up a bit.