Wandering East

Out wandering around again...

Today we headed east on 98 to the Destin Florida area.  Including Navarre Beach, Santa Rosa Coastal Park, Fort Walton, and Mary Esther.  Just so you know ... Mary Esther is really a small coastal town somewhere between Pensacola and Destin.

We decided to take a scenic route and spun off on 399 to a slim slit of an island some 15 miles long that paralled 98.  After taking the long arching bridge to the island we were in the beach goer's hotspot (when it's in season).  However not too many bikinis out in this 50 degrees day.  The place reminded us of San Padre Island Texas, only bigger, and I suspect more party places.  Continuing east the civilization melted away to a pristine national park that straddled each side for the road for about seven miles.  At times the Caribbean was a hundred or so yards on either side of us.  No place to be in a hurricane.  The sand was powder white not unlike the snow you unlucky folks in the north are now experieincing.

Towards the end of the island we came across more civilization. At least we think they were civilized.  By the looks at their houses we're not really sure.

Further down the road we found a bevy of houses that definitely had a more Bermuda feel to them.  Bold and bright.

We exited the island over another long arching bridge returning to 98 and continued on to the Destin area.

Lots of shopping spots in the area including two great book stores; my favorites.  "Barnes and Noble" and "Books a Million".  Couldn't help myself and left a little retirment cash here before leaving.

We had a little shrimp lunch at a place overlooking the Destin harbor named appropriately, Harbor Docks.
Under re-construction, it was in a little rough condition but the food was good. Though for lunch, a little expensive.  Anyway we headed home at sundown, enjoying another day of sightseeing and appreciating each other's company.

Day tripping and still livin' the dream.

Phil

Looking Back

In my previous entry I said we were in the beautiful Hard Rock Casino today.  Here's what the place looked like shortly after hurricane Katrina visited.  The casino is in the foreground, completely collasped.

Photo from Google Earth/Street View archives.

By the look of the place we saw today ... Phoenix apparently can rise from the ashes.

Phil

Day tripping

$3.99 lobsters, $7.00 buffet lunch ... What's not to like. 

We re-learned another valuable lesson today.  You get what you pay for.  Kind-hearted me offered to take Sharon to yet another casino in the area.  A scant 1 1/2 hour drive and there we were; Las Vegas South or as the locals call it ... Biloxi Mississippi.  We were last here in early 2008 and even today the aftermath of hurricane Katrina is still present.  Not a lot has changed except the roads are better and more casinos are sprouting up. It's not the most visually inviting town to visit but the docks with their fishing boats and the blue Caribbean are always a draw for me.

We decide to stop at the Isle Casino first, have a little lunch, gamble a bit then move to one of the other 5 or 6 casinos.  Clean and well kept but nearly vacant of players.  Okay it's Tuesday afternoon and probably not the best time or time of year for that matter but it was really quite.  And small.  From the outside it looked quite large but once inside the gaming floor was very compact.  Tight might be a better description ... much like the payout on their slots as we later found out.

We located the buffet and for a mere pittance we had a reasonable lunch.  Not great, but adequate.  And lobsters (small) were really $3.99.  Kind of chewy however.
We then spent about a half hour playing the slots.  Mostly had our pick of the machines as you could count the number of players on two hands.  This casino did disspell my notion that only the Indians had our number as these piranahs down here fed on my money as well as the Indians do up north. 

We jumped ship and headed for the Hard Rock Casino.  Whoa!  This is one nice place.  Very much like its Las Vegas brother.  A great deal of memoribilia on the walls from the legends of rock and roll.  Fun to look at.  Starbucks, several small fast food kiosks, a large buffet area and for those discriminating eaters ...a Ruth Chris Steakhouse.  I've dined at four of these steak emporiums at various places around the country and believe me they are all fantastic.  Not cheap, not inexpensive, not a bargain but you enjoy their legendary prime steak in a fine dining atmosphere.  Since this one is in a casino, you probably don't even need to dress up.  There were considerably more players here so the flight to a quality casino was apparent.  Anyway a very nice place and we will return (probably to eat a little steak).  And maybe get back the little money I lost.

So another day trip is behind us, the good times continue as we are still livin't the dream.

Phil

Jeremiah

Remember the 3 Dog Night tune "Jeremiah was a Bullfrog" ... well I found old Jeremiah today hunkered down under a walkway waiting for tomorrows warmer weather.  You'll notice the toe of my 14ww shoe in the image so you can see old Jeremiah was a 'biggun', as they say down here.  I reached down and touched him but his metabolism was so low he didn't budge, or jump, or do anything.  So I left him alone is his dream state or whatever frogs do when it's cold, and meandered on.

Earlier today we went to Doc's along the Intercoastal road for lunch.  We've been by the place several times but the parking lot was always full.  It was after the normal lunch crowd so we found a spot to park and went in.  Not a coat and tie place for sure and actually a pretty old diner that really needed fixing up.  However after our lunch was served it was apparent that folks didn't come here for the decoration.  We ordered the catfish lunch special and it was fantastic.  For less than 8 bucks we got delicious fried catfish, fries, coleslaw, and the staple of every meal served in this part of the world ... hushpuppies.  Not normally a fan of these little onion and cornmeal (?) bombs, these were really pretty good.  In addition they brought us a piece of chocolate cake... surprise, surprise.  A very friendly staff and we'd probably return... not something we've said with most of the other places we've eaten at so far.  And the draft beer was so cold we could hardly drink it ... but did manage.

Things weren't jumpin' today but were still livin' the dream.

Phil

Hoops

Still getting used to our new surroundings. 

We stopped by a small, out-of-the-way market this afternoon and noticed while browsing around, several pieces of cheese wrapped up and ready for sale atop the deli counter.  It looked pretty inviting.  Wrapped in a red wax similar to a Gouda, the cheese inside was a very bright yellow.  I asked the girl behind the counter what was this "Hoop" cheese, as the label indicated?  I think I caught her a little off guard as the look on her face told me she thought I was pretty dumb.  She was nice enough though to call the meat man over to deal with me.  A slight man dressed as if he were working in a gas station rather than a market,  said "I've been eating this cheese all my life and as a kid we used to grab a chunk of "Hoop",  a bottle of pop and my fishing rod and I'd be off fishin' all day. Great stuff!"  I pushed the question once again as to what was "Hoop" cheese and he said "I dunno what it is but ... well ... I guess cuz we buy it in hoop"  He said 'set it out for a while and let it get warmed up before you eat it... it'll be better that way'.  I'm guessing the cheese comes in a large ring like many cheeses do but I had never heard it described that way.  Anyway he later told me that he sells over 30 lbs a week of the stuff so it must be popular.

I got my 'Hoop" home and grabbed a little bubbly and waited for the delicate yellow goodness to warm up.  Missing the fishing pole,  I cut right to the chase and sampled a slice.  He was right ... nothing like a good ole chunk of "Hoop" to make yer day.  Mild like Longhong and goes well with a fine, though not rare, 2009 Diet Coke.

I've been to a lot of places that sold cheese so I'll add one more variety to my 'most favorite' list.

A little cheesy but still livin' the dream.

Phil

OMG

I turned on the 'tube' a few minutes ago, expecting to hear the latest Tiger Wood gossip but ... was met by an urgent weather bulletin.
WINTER STORM WARNING it said on the crawler creeping along the bottom of the screen.  Thinking that my satellite was somehow receiving a Michigan weather station, I quickly double checked the channel only to discover it was really one from Mobile Alabama.  I turned up the volume to hear the weatherman tell folks that 'if they had never seen snow before, plan on driving about 60 miles north from the coast for this rare event Friday evening'.  This is a big deal down here.  Every station on the hour warning of the coming storm!
 
Expecting upwards to 1 inch  of the white stuff in isolated areas, the local road commission is probably out trying to find a salt truck while the local folks are trying to find tire chains at the local Sears store.  I poke a little good natured fun at the locals but I wonder how us Michiganders would react to one of their all too frequent hurricanes?

But ... one of the reasons we left Michigan some 1100 miles away ... was to avoid hearing these weather bulletins ...  but we just can't seem to escape them.

So here we sit.  The hot water heat system is running, it now gets dark before 5:00pm (Central time here), and it's too darn cold to be outside. 

Shivering but still livin' the dream,

Phil

Old haunts and high water

Headed over to Pensacola today to visit a photo equipment dealer there.  Great guys and very knowledgable.  One a retired Army photographer so we had a little in common.   Sharon and I continue to explore our surroundings and since Pensacola is only about 30 miles away,  we thought we'd return after a two year hiatus.  After jawboning in the camera shop for an hour we decided to have lunch at a spot we really liked the last time we were in this old military town.  McQuire's Irish Pub http://www.mcguiresirishpub.com/
has been a staple here since the late 70's specializing in prime steak.  We were just there for a sandwich and salad but the thought of a bone-in ribeye was pretty tempting.  Few steak houses only serve prime grade meat so believe me, this is one of those 'must eat at' places.

We were introduced to this place on our last visit by our friends from Grand Blanc (Linda and John) who winter near here.  If you look back in my blog's older posts (2-18-2008) you'll see some pictures and a little detail on what's plastered all over their ceiling.  Anyway a great lunch with each of us bringing home enough extra for another meal.  By-the-way ... the corn beef and pistrami on rye was to die for.

Now all you folks back in Michigan are probably anticipating a little inclement weather soon ... and just to make you feel better ... so are we.   Apparently the last several days of 75 degree blue sky weather is changing to 'head for the high ground' weather.  Sometime late afternoon tomorrow, we're looking at a weather front moving through that will dump between 4 and 6 INCHES of rain here.  I guess we'll see how waterproof the coach is.  We'll probably have to tie down the barbecue or it may head out to sea.  Anyway we'll keep a close ear to the weatherman and keep our swim fins handy.  However I will need to dash out in the morning for some fresh limes and tonic.  Survivial provisions you know.

Still livin' the dream (no matter how soggy)

Phil

Bella Terra Rv Resort

Just in case you wanted to know what the place we are staying at looks like ...

here it is at sunset this evening.

Maybe a few more images later as the mood strikes me.

Livin' the dream

Phil

Indians, Cotton and Shrimp

I think I now know something about the Native American Indians I didn't fully understand before.  It seems that for years I thought their ways of communicating with smoke signals was pretty crude but ...  I was so wrong.   I found out the hard way that the tribes in Michigan, where we normally gamble, managed to get word to the ones down here (Wind Creek Casino in Atmore AL) that we are indeed fools so take every advantage of them that you can.  This relatively new casino was nice but not many were playing this afternoon.  Maybe spending on Black Friday items ... which was probably better anyway.  We only stayed about two hours and I lost what I had planned to but Sharon did win a little.  For the hours drive, for me was not worth the trip, but Sharon enjoyed it.

Leaving the casino I noticed a field of fluffy white puffs of something swaying in the breeze across the road.  A closer look was called for so I pulled off the road to take a closer look.  My first live cotton bushes/plants.  I'd seen pictures before but in all my travels had never seen them up close.  Up close they weren't quite so fluffy as I had expected but so very white and lots of them.  I cannot imagine ever picking these by hand but they did and I cannot think of a more back breaking job.  They're low to the ground requiring the picker to be bent over all day long.  A real pain.

 Moving on ...

So what to choose?  Will it be the Zydecco Penne (Crawfish Tails, Andouille Sausage,Jumbo Gulf Shrimp, Cajun Vegetables, and Roasted Garlic in a cream sauce), or a Seafood Platter (Butterflied Shirmp, Deep Sea Scallops, Extra Select Oysters,Filet of Flounder, and Crab Cakes) or All you can eat shrimp,flounder,tilapia,clams, or chicken and maybe top it off with French bread baked in a sweet cinnamon vanilla raisin custard topped with a Whiskey sauce? 

We found Captain's Galley on County Road 10 west of Foley.  Not anywhere near the main drag but tucked away on on Bon Secur River sort of on the outskirts of town.  We pulled in lot and parked in front of their shrimp boat.  Not fancy by any means but more like a mom and pop operation in your home town.  The Auburn/Alabama game was in the final minutes and most of the patrons were glued to the several screens up around the dinning room as we  made our way to a seat.  We ordered a couple of beers and some onion rings and both decided after reviewing the large menu on the all-you-could-eat shrimp. Our rationale was that we skipped lunch so why not pile on dinner.

In short order our meal was served.  A very light batter covered about 16 shrimp.  How can I describe fresh?  Okay ... how about NOT like most of the shrimp you get up north. Delicately flavored with a batter that was just barely there.  Right out of the frier to our plates in seconds.  Figuring that Sharon couldn't eat all of hers I held off wolfing all mine down; avoiding any redicule later on if I had ordered more.  Whoops ... fooled again.  She put her batch down like a baby Robin with a beak full of worms. So the waitress winked and I winked back and before long another hot batch appeared.  Slathered up will a little cocktail sauce they too soon disappeared but there was absolutely no room for the whiskey drizzled French Bread pudding.  Pretty fine dining for less than $30 and jeans and sweat pants are appropriate.

So Captain's Gallery is officially the first resturant, at least on this trip, that we can finally recommend to others. We're sure there will be more.

Still livin' the dream.

Phil

A day of Thanksgiving

Sharon and I have many things in this life to be thankful for.  But our greatest assets are our wonderful family and our fantastic friends, both old and new.  Without them we would have little.  So on this Thanksgiving day we thank all of you  for your love, friendship, and support as we continue to live our dream.

Phil and Sharon 

Nuts !

Today was another wander-around day.  'Oh the joys of retirement' they say.  We sorta of wanted to visit a mall near Mobile so we head west towards the little town of Fairhope AL.  Seeing the back yard of America suits us just fine.  Anyway after snooping around Fairhope, which is filled with many neat shops, we headed north along the coast of Mobile Bay.  Not long along this new direction, we stumbled across the B&B Pecan Company.  Now if you have never been to a nut farm (excluding medical ones), make a point to stop in and see what's going on.

Immaculate rows of mature pecan trees dot the surrounding land.  The lawn underneath these large sprawling trees are trimmed close and as clean as my bank account after Christmas.  It appears, by the look of the trees, the season was near its end as there was little of anything left in them.  As the ripe nut falls to the ground, mechanical sweepers harvest the nuts and move them along for further processing.  Cracking, cleaning, sorting and packaging follow.

We found the retail office and walked into pecan nirvana.  Raw pecans, salted pecans, pecan pies, pecan oil, pecan cookbooks, chocolate covered pecans, pecans in the shell, pecan crackers, pecans in tins, pecans in bags, pick your own pecans ... and, as it turns out ... over 40 varieties of pecans.  OMG ... we were in nut overload.

From an adjoining room I could hear some machinery running so I asked the counter guys if I could see what was going on and maybe take some pictures.  He agreed and led me into the special processing room.  Lined up along one wall were four nut cracking machines.  Note this is not a state-of-the-art processing area.  It's pretty crude and very labor intensive.  Apparently they use this just for small special batches so the equipment is old and not designed for high volume.  A young man working in the room takes a large bag of recently harvested nuts and dumps them into a hopper atop the cracking machine.  As each individual nut passes around a rotating do-dad (my best description), a little ram smashed the nut hull with just enough force to just crack the shell .. but not damage the nut meat.  These cracked nuts are then tossed into a large sifter where he finishes opening each nuts manually and sorts out any bad ones.   Now here's a job that would literally drive me nuts.

I returned to the retail office and continued my 'nutty' discussion with the counter guy.  I interrogated him about the pecan nut business as if he was just featured on America's Most Wanted tv show.  How many pounds do you get off a tree each season? (1000lbs), what percent are good? (80), why are there so many varities? (different uses [eating, cooking, oil] and some are grown resist certain diseases) and on and on.

Great folks there at B & B Pecan Company.  So stop in and pay them a visit ... you'll go nuts.
You can visit (and order) online too!  http://www.pecangifts.com/  Christmas orders being taken now.

As I write this, I broke into our 1lb bag of fresh, unsalted pecans.  I could bore you with my musings of our trip to the shopping malls we visited later in the day but it's hard to type with one hand in the bag.

Still livin' this 'nutty dream.

Phil

Not bad

I just got around to figuring my fuel mileage for the 1100+ mile trip down here.  For those who don't own a motor home, this number may sound outrageous.  But considering the weight of this diesel driven, 40ft behemouth and the 5100lb TrailBlazer I tow behind it, 9.01mpg is pretty darn good.  Usually driving between 60mph and 65mph, I think we're doing a lot better than most big coaches.  Our average cost of overnight parking was around $23/night. So all things considered, not all that expensive for travelling in style .  Besides ... we don't have to sleep in beds that a thousand others have slept in, stand in the airports for hours, and we have our very own bathroom.

Still livin' the dream.

Phil

Eatin' out

It's gotta start sometime so here's our first resturant review at our new winter home.

We'd seen this place advertised on the roads into the area on our last trip in 2008, but never got around to stopping.  Lambert's Cafe is famous for their 'home cookin' and brag about their practice of tossing hot rolls around the eatery.  That in itself seemed to make it worthy of a visit so we decided to stop in for lunch.

Lots of folksy signs and pictures adorned the walls.  Interesting things to look at, to say the least.  We were led to a table and within a minute or so somebody came around with a large tray of hot bread rolls followed by a server with a tray with sorghum, molassis, and apple butter.  "Take whatever you want" he said.

Next came a girl with a large tub of deep fried okra.  I've never been a fan of this stuff but after trying it, it wasn't bad.  Now keep in mind we had not even hardly had time to look at the menu, let alone order and already we had two courses.  This is part of Lambert's Cafe's 'hook' as it turns out.  The servers continously circulate through the resturant passing out 5 or 6 different 'sides'.  Take em' or leave them ... just keep in mind they are blended into the cost of your meal.  Speaking of costs ... the menu did not have a lunch menu but only one for dinner and one for kids.  Most entrees were $11.99 and up.  Not necessary a place for an inexpensive lunch.

We each ordered the fried chicken.  In about 15 minutes it arrived, hot and lots of it.  Now there is not much you can do with fried chicken and theirs was not anything above the norm.  It was flavored well and tasty but maybe a little too greasy.  Occasionally a hot roll would go sailing around the room as some customer would request another and the server would toss it across the to them.  He kept throwing them until the patron caught one.  Needless to say there were a few on the floor.  Good thing they didn't serve their coffee that way.  I guess if I had one major complaint it was serving coffee in plastic mugs.  Good coffee ... but plastic mugs?  I had also asked the waitress if I ordered fries could I get them well-done.  Her reply was sort of 'you'll get them the way we make them'.  So don't plan on asking for anything special.

I'd say it's a place to at least say you've been there once.  As with all resturant reviews, it's subjective.  Apparently this is a well liked place in the area as they've been able to withstand the ecominic turn down and all the patrons we dined with seem to be having a good time of it. So give it a try ... see what you think.

Livin' the dream,

Phil

Arrived ... at last

We arrived at our destination ... Bella Terra RV Resort, Foley Alabama. Safe and sound. What a beautiful place. Our site is right on the water with a large fountain not far away. Everything is well manicured and maintained. There are quite a few rigs aready here so we will surely meet a lot of new people. Pictures will be added in upcoming blogs.

Really livin' the dream now.

Phil

Final leg

Moving along the I-65 corridor we had about 450 miles to cover before making our destination of Gulf Shores Alabama. Since my tolerance for driving this beast is around 250 miles a day, we needed to find a place spend the night somewhere between here and there. We hit the internet and found a park near Cornersville Tennessee. Strangely called Texas T Campground, it was a perfect stop- over. Pull-thru, FHU, WiFi, cable TV, clean well kept and only about $20/night. So pass the word ... if you need an easily accessed park just off I-65 in Tennessee, this is the place.

Kentucky, Tennessee and northern Alabama offer up some beautiful scenery. Rolling hills covered with pine and hardwoods as far as the eye could see. Highways carved through limestone deposits added extra visual interest. The only problem I had with driving through this environmental eye candy was Nashville. A great city in its own right but as I-65 winds its way through the town it magnifies the ugliness of driving through big cities. Five lanes, and very poorly kept lanes as well, in both directions with everyone in some sort of a helter-skelter mood. I know I'm beginning to sound like an old fart but with over 35 tons of coach and truck underway and stretching out some 60 feet, I really dislike big city driving. Sweaty palms and white knuckles kept us between the white lane markers but those whizzing by me on both sides tests my normally good nature.

Anyway ... we moved along the interstate to Montgomery AL. We found a park, again within a 1/4 mile of the highway so it worked fine for us. The Woods RV Park and Campground appears to be rather new and all sites have FHU, cable, WiFi, and all are pull thru. We unhooked the truck and after getting settled in, headed out for a bite to eat. We had a couple of recommendations from the camp host but those didn't pan out too well as it was Sunday evening and both were closed. We settled for a little fast food chicken and called it an evening. After dinner I cranked up the internet and discovered that there were three casinos here in Montgomery. Mean as I am, I mentioned this to Sharon and in the same breath said is was too late to go anywhere. Guess who's in the dog house now.

So on this Monday morning, we've had a nice breakfast and I need to hook up the truck and finish the final leg of our trip to Gulf Shores. The sun is shining, it's expected to be about 75 degrees today and believe me ... we're still livin' the dream.

Phil

The End of the Rainbow

This little piece is dedicated to Corky, Don, Alex, Ron, Charlie, and Mike.


For I’m taking that trip to Mecca … like swallows to Capistrano and like lemmings to the sea … I have arrived at the site of all that is good and wonderful. That place where testosterone rules, your voice automatically drops an octave, and your knees weaken at mere sight of a building full of these sensuous beauties of the blacktop.
The place … the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green Kentucky.



This unique building is located adjacent to I 65 in southwestern Kentucky with easy parking, even for my rig and tow car. The impressive walkway is paved with personalized bricks and plaques from Corvette clubs and Corvette lovers from all over the nation. Walking inside, we were greeted by a very pleasant young women who had a pleasant surprise for us. As a veteran we were granted free admission. Normally seniors will get tapped $6.00 each while lesser aged folks will be hit for $8.00. A small price.

The tour is self-directed so you can gawk at your own pace. Our first stop was the theater where a continuously running history of the Vette’ was playing. This was almost worth the price of admission in itself.

From there the cars were displayed in chronological order with grouping by major eras. Interspersed were detail displays of various components like transmissions, fuel delivery, suspension systems, body materials, and of course, those powerful engines.


As we wandered amongst the royalty of American sports cars, it again began apparent what an impact with car has had on the automotive world. Innovation through engineering and race track tested durability has made this car what it is today. From its humble beginnings in Flint Michigan to St. Louis Missouri to its current manufacturing facility in Bowling Green Kentucky, this refined motorcar is still the crown jewel for GM. Whatever else occurs with the rest of GM’s product line, I’d bet my next bottle of Geritol that this car will always be made.

I have to admit my favorite exhibit was one that had a pair of 1965’s and a bare chassis. My one and only Vette’ was a Glen green 65' coupe with a 300hp 327, a rare automatic transmission, air conditioning, tilt-telescoping wood trimmed steering wheel, tan leather interior, and a rate touring tank. I bought it in 1969 for $2200 and sold it a year later for $2300. I’m still kick myself for that stupid deed.

So make the trip. It’s not only a trip into automotive dreamland ... but it’s just plain fun.

Still headed south and ... still livin’ the dream.

Phil

The Bourbon Trail

So it’s now Friday and we’re a little further south. I’d thought we’d be in Bowling Green Kentucky today drooling over the beauties at the Corvette Museum but we had a small course correction. Seems that Kentucky is the ancestral home of that old favorite ... bourbon whiskey. For a lot of reasons I won’t go into (ok it’s the water from the limestone geology in the region) this unique libation has a following as defined as the grape squeezer in Napa Valley. Jim Beam, Four Roses, Wild Turkey, Maker’s Mark and others are tightly grouped along the locally famous ‘Kentucky Bourbon Trail‘. Within just a few miles you’ll find all the big names in bourbon. So rather than look at neat cars maybe we could enjoy some bourbon neat. With a little web research we concluded that Maker’s Mark had the best factory tour and most importantly it was not located in a ‘dry’ county. Seems one of the more famous distillers is located in a county whereas one cannot sample the product on site. No drinking in a county that makes bourbon … go figure!

Anyway... Maker’s Mark it was. I called to see where I could park my rig but a little inside information from the I 65 rest stop host said the road to get there was better suited for a motorcycle … not a motor coach. So we found a quaint little 31 site park (My Old Kentucky Home State Park in Bardstown KY) and parked the rig. The I 65 rest stop host was right on with his advice. Certainly one of those Corvettes would have been at home on the roads leading to Maker’s Mark, but not a big coach.

Beautiful scenery but twists and turns, ups and downs, and no guard rails keeping you from those stone laden ravines. So we unhooked the toad and made the 16 mile trip. A pleasant drive except for the locals who, after driving these lanes for all their lives, couldn't seem to understand that riding my bumper would not make me drive faster. Already white-knuckled and sweaty palmed, I was not to be intimidated. Besides I had not brought a change in underwear or maybe I would have given them a run for their money.

We turned onto a gentle lane, guarded by a hand fitted limestone wall on one side and a briskly moving stream on the other. After round a bend or two we came upon a a beautifully landscaped facility with many large darkly painted building with distinctive Maker’s Mark red trim.

After parking we headed for the reception area for the guided tour. The old home, turned reception center, already had a number of other folks waiting so we made our self at home. Soon an attractive young blond girl gathered us on the big porch outside and explained what the next hour and a half would entail. I thought to myself 1 ½ hours … whew! That’s a long tour and what did I get myself into?

As the tour began, it was evident that the property was perfectly maintained and our guide Natalie was very well suited for the job. She knew this business of bourbon making from top to bottom. She was one of 22 employees; that’s right only 22 employees run Maker’s Mark. Almost everyone is cross-trained in other jobs within the business so she was very familiar with everything. When asked, with such a small crew, what would they do if several employees got the sick? Her answer?… shut the place down until the people got better. Try that at your workplace.

Explaining all the nuances of the bourbon making process is beyond my capabilities but it appears that beyond the ingredients and the general equipment used this is a very personal business. It’s personal because it involves people tasting and smelling the product throughout the process to determine if its fit’s the distillers unique standard. It’s definitely not an empirical process but more of a ’seat-of-the-pants’ ( or nose ) process honed and defined over decades. They know it’s right … when it’s right. Not something written down but something they somehow know.
As we were led through the property we were all waiting for two things. The first was where did they put on the distinctive red wax seal on every bottle and where do we get to sample it.

After seeing the sour mash vats the fermentation vats and all the other processes, we were taken to the bottling section.

Two bottling stations filled the empties at a pace of about 1 bottle every 5 seconds. They are fed down a line where caps and labels are installed. They then arrive at the dipping station where 4 workers (2 on each side of the conveyor line) alternately grab a bottle off the line, turn it over and tip it into the 400 degree hot red wax.

Giving the bottle a quick turn as they lift it out, they give a unique look. Some say that each ‘dipper’ has a unique style and one educated in such things can tell which employee dipped a particular bottle. Pretty neat.
Near our last stop was the storage barn where barrel racks some three stories high hold the precious concoction. Holding about 32 gallons, the barrels start at the top of the building and slowing migrate down as they age. A process that can take 3 to 5 years. They also turn the barrels (by hand) ever so often to make sure the contents are well mixed.
After looking over the hundreds of barrels in just one of many of these huge storage barns we were led into an ultra classy tasting room. The final treat.

We had an initial taste of sour mash (I’d say moonshine) followed by the bourbon just to show us the difference. They had about 60 samples set out for the 15 of us so if you desired, you could have more. I took advantage of this deal.

The real final treat was that if you purchased a bottle, you could hand dip it in the famous red wax yourself and autograph the bottle. We picked out a one litre bottle, put on safety glasses and gloves and they showed us how to dip it. So someone special is going to receive this personalized Maker’s Mark bottle. I hope they enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed this excellent (free) tour.

Still livin’ (and today drinkin’) the dream.

Phil

On the road again

Leaving the RV Museum we headed for the Elkhart Campground located about 4 miles away. A camp recommended by ‘Big Rigs Best Bet Campground Directory'; a book we use regularly when traveling. We called ahead to make sure they were even open this time of year. As luck would have it they were so they had great WiFi, FHU and lots of sites available so it was our best bet. The sprawling 26 acre park was operated by a charming Indian family who were hard at work laying electrical service to two very large A/C units for their new banquet hall. The park was about to close for the season but they still had plenty to do.

Good to see park owners who believed that rv’ing still had a future and was willing to invest their money and time to make their park better. My friend Bill with his rig and Sharon and I in ours were shown our sites. Since we were only looking for a quick overnight stay, we were located in the newer part of the park. It’s still as little spartan, lacking a paved pad but it was level and dry and easy to get in and out. I could certainly recommend this park for anyone visiting the Elkhart area.

Moving on a few more miles south the next day to a nice medium size town of Columbus Indiana.

What’s a trip with us without a restaurant review? Not to disappoint, join us for our trip to a little Chinese place Sharon located on the net in the town of Columbus Indiana, our next stop. We located a park (which will go unnamed) south of town near the highway. Not the easiest place to maneuver my rig around in but adequate. My guess it’s used a lot by temporary workers to the area as there certainly a fair amount of new construction underway.

But back to the restaurant…..

After a somewhat circuitous trip to this out of the way mall we found the storefront and went inside. We discovered a very well decorated and equally clean and inviting eatery that sat maybe 100 diners. It was after 8:00pm but there were still maybe 25 customers present. One of my habits (probably not a polite one at that) is to sort of wander around those already eating as our hostess led us to our table. My clever thinking is that seeing and smelling what others are eating will help me figure out what I may want. It rarely works but I keep sniffing and wandering anyway. It’s always interesting to see the looks people give if I linger too long at their table.

The name of the place is Mark Pi‘s China Gate at the Fair Oaks Mall. And this is as good a Chinese restaurant as I have been to in many years of dining out. And to think that it’s in a mall in Columbus Indiana. The appetizer Bill got for us was a potpourri of egg rolls, barbecued pork ribs, crab Rangoon, scallop rumaki,skewered beef and shrimp toast. With a small cast iron caldron placed table center to sear our various appetizers the presentation was both elegant and functional. We each ordered something different and made additional requests to either add or subtract something from the dish (spices or meat) to make it special for our taste. The orders were filled quickly and exactly as we had ordered and … prepared to perfection. As if we hadn’t had enough to eat … we got two, count em’ two … fortune cookies each. So if you’re within 50 miles of this place you must stop and pay them a visit and after dining, you will be livin’ the dream too.

Phil

Making headway

The great thing about retirement is that plans are not written in stone. We'd planned to make our next stop in Indianapolis but something came up. We gained a travelling companion. My old friend Bill said he'd signed up for a few days vacation and wondered if he could tag along our route for a while. Maybe lasting until Bowling Green Kentucky before turning back home. Great idea we thought but he mentioned he wanted to visit the RV Hall of Fame and Museum in Elkhart first. Not too far out of our way I figured so why not. So we headed out at the crack of noon and meandered south on I69. Once into Indiana I needed to head west on the the I 80 toll road and get off at exit 96.

As I approached the toll booths general confusion overtook me and could not quickly determined which pay lane I needed to be in. It must be a part of the aging process as lady luck was not on my side as I picked the wrong lane.
I was in the lane that truckers use with their automated toll readers. They barely slow down when passing through but I had come to a dead stop trying to figure out what to do next. Not a soul in the toll booth ... only a small metal tower with a speaker phone and a green 'help' button.

I jabbed at the button about the same time as the first 18 wheeler pulled in behind me and began laying on his air horns. An unintelligible voice came over the speaker apparently asking what help might I need. After asking her several times to repeat herself I finally thought she wanted my credit card number. Not knowing exactly where my wallet was, Sharon began searching around the coach. Still the horns continued in the background. Then a small blond lady appeared at the side of the coach saying that I could pay cash. I stopped talking to the women on the intercom and handed the lady a $20 bill. She handed it back saying she needed exact change. The horns behind us continued. We switched gears from wallet searching to finding exact change somewhere in the coach. Purses, pants pockets, and finally... Sharon found our bag of quarters we use for the laundromats. Grabbing a handful, I shoved them towards the attendant ... as the horns blared on. Somehow I had given her what she had asked for ... $2.25.
We had really owed them close to $10 but apparently they were so happy to get something out of us and out of the way of the increasing line of trucks, they raised the gate and let us go. Whew! We hurried along hoping that none of the angry mob of road warriors would catchup with us.


We quickly found the RV museum and Bill was waiting for our arrival. A beautiful building located along the toll road with plenty of rv parking (would you expect anything less?). We ventured inside and was met by two volunteers. Now these folks have lived and breathed rv'ing for a great long time and the love of the work they do in making this museum a great stop is fantastic. Not at all bashful about talking about what they love and do is both refreshing and sets an example for others to follow.


Sharon took the nice shot of a portion of the museum. Pretty good I'd say.

As we wandered throughout the large building I couldn't help but see how little I knew of the history of rv'ing. And the level of engineering that had occurred decades ago... wow..... what marvels.


Suddenly stricken by that 'howdtheydothat' disease, Bill inspects the mechanicals of an old front wheel drive Cortez manufactured by the Clark Equipment Company of Battle Creek. Predating the famous GMC Motorcoach, this little beauty was a slick little rig for its day.


The woodworking and the metal work were in some cases, works of art. Sure today's rigs are luxurious with many fine features ... but some of these old beauties are just so neat their uniqueness make them extra special.

If I understood the tour guide, this Road Chief was the predecessor to the famous Air Stream line of trailers. The boat- tailed gleaming beauty was as shiny as your grandmother's teapot. Though it looks painted in this photo, it is not; what you see is the reflections off some of the other nearby units. Besides the unique shape, the entrance to this rig is through the door located in the front, behind the hitch. This location obviously didn't catch on but the aircraft inspired shape did. It was one of my favorites.

So if you ever get around northern Indiana, stop by the museum and take a look. Even if you're not into rv'ing, it's still a neat nostalgia trip.

We're leaving for parts south whenever we fall out of bed in the morning. Not much of a plan but it's all we've got so far. We now needed to find a place to spend the night.

Still livin' the dream.

Phil

And here we go ...

We're off and running ... the new journey has finally begun... but not without a little drama.

Planning to leave Tuesday around noon, we had to wait for a FedEx shipment that was promised that day. Little did we know we'd be the last delivery on the guys 500 mile route. He'd been on the road so long he had a 3 day beard. Anyway we got underway at sundownbut and about 30 miles down the road I had one of those feelings that only those who own a big old coach could know. Something wasn't right. I found the next rest stop and did a quick look-around and found the air line to the toad's braking system had disconnected ... meaning the toad brakes couldn't help me stop. Not a huge deal but something that needed fixing. A little scraping with my Swiss Army knife and presto...it was fixed. Do you suppose I'm psychic? So on we went into the night. I hate driving the coach at night for some reason ... maybe it's because I can't see as well but whatever it is I'll take daylight driving anytime.

We motored along through Lansing on towards our first stop ... Battle Creek. We planned to visit friends and relatives and thought we'd just park the rig at the new Fire Keepers casino. Easy to find off I94, we'd figured they'd have a big parking lot that was safe and level. About 15 minutes before arriving I started the generator just to exercise it a bit. It roared to life and all is good... I thought. Then a couple of miles down the road I noticed something new. My transmission temperature gage was spastic, bouncing wildly from side to side. No correlation between the generator and gage but just something more to worry about.

Arriving at the casino I mistakenly passed the two entrances I should have gone into but did manage to turn into the employees parking lot. I pulled to the rear only to drive down a dead end lane ... which meant I needed to unhook the toad and back out. I started the process grumbling to myself when the casino security drove up asking if I needed any help. After registering my dismay about the size of the RV parking sign (the one I missed) I said said yes that he could help direct me so as I wouldn't back over an embankment. He was more than helpful and led me to the proper parking area. He cautioned me not to use my levelers as it would wreck the asphalt and directed me to a dirt field if I needed to. He also noted that the casino wasn't too excited about rv'ers but apparently tolerated us. They apparently don't like over-nighters. I don't think that was an official answer but the way the parking is set up I could agree with him. Tight turns and narrow entrance ways and few, if any, pull-thrus. While chatting with him the generator unexpectedly stopped. It looked as if I had plenty of fuel (1/3 tank) but just in case the gage was wrong, I backed the rig out of my fresh new parking spot and headed for a nearby truck stop. Topping out with only 130 gallons I knew that the generator could not have been starved for fuel because there were still 70 gallons on board. I cranked and crank on the generator for a half a dozen times but no luck. Figuring it was a fuel shut-off solenoid problem, I gave up and Sharon and I headed for the casino ... planning to win enough money to buy a new rig in the morning. Well that pipe dream didn't happen ... but at least we had the chance to get with our friends George and Paula for an hour or so as they came out to the casino to see us.

About an hour later, and maybe $30 in the hole, we said our goodbyes to our dear friends and those hungry one-armed bandits and headed back to a cold coach. Without an electrical hookup or a working generator it was going to be a cold night. With a sub 30 degree evening ahead it was going to be a little nippy. Saving our batteries to run the refrigerator was the only choice (gotta keep the beer cold and the steaks frozen ya know) so we got ready for bed. It was just an after-thought but I decided to try the generator again and without hesitation it fired to life. It gave no reason for scaring me but just purred along producing all the power I would need. So the steaks, and beer and occupants are all now doing well. Life is good.

And this is just the first day... 100 miles from home. 1000 to go.

Still livin' the dream ...

Phil

When I'm sixty-four

"Will you still need me? "Will you still feed me? "When I'm sixty-four"
ends the first refrain from that 1967 Beatles song by Lennon and McCartney.

As it turns out ... those words still ring true.

My family still needs me. And I need them.
They took me out for a great evening. Good food and good drink.
And they helped me celebrate my sixty-fourth birthday. I couldn't be happier.

But most of all ... having them all together and having a great time.

Still livin' the dream at 64

Phil

Observations

Sometimes you're just in awe of your fellow road warriors.

While my little cluttered mind was working through all the things I needed to do before heading south, I came upon a driver on the interstate who had adorned the hood of his more-than slightly used Dodge with about one hundred 3-D plastic army action figures.

Now I'm all for expressing ones self but this guy really had it together. His green platoons were strategically place around the various rust spots and bare paint areas with great precision. This portable battlefield was to ponder over wherever he travelled. Right out the front windshield. Oh what a great idea , I thought.

As he passed me my mind cleared of the clutter and confusion. Here, whizzing by me was something that made me smile and think of something other than my own issues.

So, whoever you are ... wherever you are young general of the road, thanks. A smile and a good laugh is great medicine.

Still livin' the dream,

Phil

Small world

The following is of little consequence but was interesting to me.

This evening, while attending a Lions Club event, I sat at a table with two brothers and one said he had recently retired from the Air Force with over 30 years service. The other brother had served 4 years in the Marine Corp and I noted that I had served 2 years in the Army. I guess it wasn't so strange that we represented 3 of the 4 services but what I found interesting was that we all had served on the island of Okinawa off the southern coast of Japan at one time during our respective careers. As our tours of duty were spaced some 10 or more years apart, it was interesting to learn of the things we had each seen and the changes we had each experienced.

Old warriors hashing over the good times. It was a good day.

Still livin' the dream,

Phil

Shutting the lights off

It was such a glorious day... sort of. White cotton-like clouds formed a perfect backdrop for the fall colors here in the park. The crisp fall temperatures were in place as the remaining few of us hustled around getting our rigs packed for its next destination.

Don and Julie were first to leave this morning. Preparation was a little different for them as they were leaving their coach here for the winter and heading west for the winter.

Rod and Hollie followed in their classic Bluebird coach. Its distinctive sound reminds me of a Harley on steroids. Ya gotta love those 2 cycle diesels. We had an enjoyable dinner together last night at a packed (surprise) Clementines. I don't know where all those people came from on the off season but we had to wait for 30 minutes to get a table. I can certainly recommend the bloody Mary's (try the hot ones). They will be meandering across the country destined for Yuma.

Then Scott, Marilyn, and Katherine packed up and left ... they too were leaving their 5th wheel here so we know they'll be back in the Spring.

Next Alex and Barb headed out. With the Chicago area their destination, they'll have a short and hopefully safe journey.

Jim and Chris had an even shorter trip as they headed off for Schoolcraft area. Not that leaving was simple, as they had a little door lock problem but that was solved with a little elbow grease and help from Jerry.

Ron and Tammy (and Rufus) were next. Their new sedan packed to the gills with all things precious and useful ... all destined to end up at their new digs in Florida. And a special thanks to Tammy ... the pumpkin ice cream you left us was fantastic.

So all the good-byes have been said ... most of the rigs are gone, the sun has set and here we sit. The only souls in the entire park. Not even sure if Hal and Mary are still around. We still have a little packing to do in the morning but we too will be heading on to new vistas before long. It's time to move on. And ... we'll shut the lights off.

We sincerely hope that all our 'family' here at Cousins have a great winter season ... wherever they are.

And speaking of family ... I think we all would like to thank Hal and Mary Cousins again for providing us all a great place to spend the summer. We all appreciate a clean, well run park whose owners take special pride in making sure their guests are well taken care of.

Stay tuned as another road trip will soon be upon us.


Still livin' the dream.


Phil

The Big Cook-Off

As we're now full swing into "fallter" (my new term for that time between fall and winter), the leaves are turning amber bock brown, there is a crispness in the air and a definite need to warm your innards with some good old comfort food. Now I'm not talking pb&j sandwiches, or mac & cheese but man-type comfort food .... food that is served hot, warms your lips and on the way down, warms you from inside out. You guessed it ... CHILI . That eclectic concoction of wondrously delicious ingredients that is thought to be a purely Texan creation but consumed across the land.

With recipes numbering in the hundreds, chili has grown into one of America's staples for the table. Usually made with some combination of beef, tomatoes, beans, onions, and of course chili peppers; many other edible additives can be tossed in to 'make it special'.

Though purest (the old saying goes "if you know beans about chili you know chili ain't got no beans") would reject the use of beans in this sumptuous brew, many cooks have advanced to add these little 'noise makers'. Be they hot ... mild ... white ... black ... Navy ... beans are a great filler that add new flavor and color to the mix.
























So 'fallter' is upon us here in southwestern Michigan and the remaining few us here at Cousins RV park decided to have a chili cook-off contest. Hosts Hal and Mary organized the affair and there were 6 contestants entered in this 1st Annual Chili Cook-off. As contest time grew near, the normally loquacious cooks were as tight-lipped as a CIA spy. With only a fleeting mention of a secret ingredient now and again, (did I hear oatmeal or chicken or cumin or noodles or even peanut butter?) ... the tension built as we approached the day of judgement.

With anticipation peaked, we all headed with pot and crock-pot in hand and a dish to pass to the clubhouse. Hal and & Mary had everything laid out with gold medals and trophies. A really nice touch on their part.

The steaming crucibles of love and joy were anonymously labeled and small tasting cups and spoons were placed in front for all to taste what the cooks had created. About 20 votes were cast and we anxiously waited the results. I might say that after trying each one of them, anyone one of them would be welcome at my dinner table. So the voters had their work cut out for them.
























The the tasting was done ... the counting was over ... there was finally a declared winner. No hanging chads or dangling participles either. Our 2009 Chile Cook-Off Queen was none other than my wife Sharon. Used to only winning on an occasional scratch-off lottery ticket, she managed to beat the professionals here in the park. I'm so proud.

The 2009 Cousins Chili Champions

Celebrations followed starting off with Mary's homemade 'apple tini's'. A wickedly sweet yet powerful brew that quickly vanished after a round or two of toasts to all the champions.

Being with good friends and neighbors makes any occasion worthwhile. This final gathering at Cousins for the 2009 camping season was however a little bittersweet. As each of us head our separate ways for the winter, we'll all miss each other but will have fond memories of all the neat things we did this past summer.

As for the Chili Queen and I ... we will be heading south soon. Meandering toward the Gulf coast once again to escape the winter and find another undiscovered shrimp bar.

Stick around and follow our travels. Leave a comment now and again so we know what you're thinking.

On the road again soon and still livin' the dream.

Phil

Mystery solved!

Several weeks ago; sometime during our normal 4:00 soiree with the neighbors, it was revealed that Jerry and Della's beautiful Blue Bird coach had somehow been damaged. Normally spotless and without blemish, this regal chariot suffered, what appeared to be a sharp, paint penetrating ding along its passenger side flank. Was it a stone chip? Was it an errant Frisbee? Was it a bullet? What evil has set upon this luxurious beast of burden?

Close inspection uncovered little of what or who perpetrated this crime. None-the-less Jerry remained deeply distraught and sought relief with a tall, friendly Dewars now and again to help the pain.

Now desperate and seeking a fix, Jerry soon made an appointment , not at the local Earl Shieb's little shop of horrors but returning it to its original home at Holland Motors. Promised a quick turn-around paint repair he and Della closed out their stay here in South Haven and headed off to get their coach fixed.

But the mystery remained ... until now! But what really did cause that dent?
Haunted by this unsolved crime the little known, and mostly ignored, CSI squad from South Haven (better known at CSISH) finally cracked the case. Agents Rod and Phil (not their real names) poured over the crime scene early today and through a variety of highly scientific techniques, have discovered what the reason for this heinous act.

It seems that as the tail of comet Archodolis had just passed through earth's orbit, small astroidial like particles were caught in our gravity field and were subsequently sucked into our atmosphere. Falling like a pair of pants with broken suspenders, one of these little projectiles from Hades homed in on Jerry's coach and struck it broadside. Call it fate ... call it punishment ... call it a sign from high above ... whatever the reason ... it happened. Mystery solved! It's the story CSISH is telling and we're sticking to it. We now hope that Jerry and Della can finally get some rest before heading off to their next destination.

Still livin' the dream in South Haven but getting ready to head south to dream up some more stuff.

Phil

Huff and Puff

As promised, let me tell about all the excitement we've had this past week here in South Haven. With steady 40mph winds and regular gusts to 60mph, Lake Michigan was as angry as several of the old timers here had ever seen it.

Churning and boiling like a pot of jambalaya, the normally placid lake was angry as my wife when I interrupt her Wii game. Trying every few seconds to knock the smithereens out of the old lighthouse, Mother Nature drove the lake unmercifully. I figure collectively, the folks here in South Haven must have pissed off the old girl (Mother Nature not Sharon) someway and she needed to show the town who's boss.

Hugh waves rushed up the channel each like a Pacific tsunami, some over 4 feet above the blue safety rail along the channel. Just to give you some idea how high that is ... the normal channel water level is about 5 foot below the walkway that runs alongside the channel ... the rail is about 4 foot high so add another 4 foot or so at the peak of the waves and you have waves in the channel in excess of 13ft. It sure kept the local dinghy jockeys dockside.

Looking across to the North Shore beach, the end-loaders were busy trying to scoop up the blown sand that was piling up all along North Shore Drive. Steadily they worked to keep the road open but it was the home openers I felt a little sympathy for. Driveways were filled and I can only image the mess each owner had to clean. Great place to live if you don't mind a little sand in your shorts.

I quess it was just another day at the beach for the local gulls. With Pallisades nuclear power plant in the background, the little scavengers just hunkered down and looked for whatever tasty morsels of garbage were blown ashore.

So in our sheltered retirement life a little excitement broke out. No harm ... no foul. Except for the mess it left in my yard.

On another subject ...

Now and again we're asked what we do all day. It's sort of like they want want me to admit out loud that we don't do a thing all day... you know, maybe lay in bed till 10 ... get dressed at noon ... maybe take a short nap ... barely get up in time for happy hour at 4 ... stagger home and grill a dog or two for dinner... watch TV for a few hours ... surf the web for a couple of hours ... then turn in for the night. Well okay ... you caught us! So maybe we do do these things occasionally but, so what! To the victory goes the spoils ... right? After winning the work battle with over 40 years each, years of toil, some of our spoils are a little goofing off. No excuses ... and as the more we think of it, the more we wish we could have started sooner.

Now we've not done this all by ourselves. With the help of the LaForests, Tafts, VanderWalls, Isaacsons, Holts, Martins, Schrems, Hattos, Schlatters, Jajes, Evans, and the Murphys our summer has been filled with steady stream of friends and family checking in and verifying that we have indeed been goofing off. Thanks again gang ... it would have been boring without you. However you all better get your bags packed as we getting ready to hit the road again.

So gas up the Nash, call TWA for a reservation, and don't forget those $9.95 rooms at the Red Roof Inn and join us at our next stop.

Still livin' the dream,

Phil

Seasoned men ...Seasoned ships

This past weekend was planned as a quick trip north to gather with old fishing friends for sort of a reunion. Several of us had missed the past few trips and our host George thought it might be nice if we could all make this trip. Most of us had met twice a year at the old Slagle Creek cabin for somewhere around 40 years. Spending comfortable campfire time talking of all things trivial and important. jabbing at each other with puns and jokes ... occasional good natured teasing, a bit of drink and food ... and now and again, a little fishing. Several of us were not staying at the cabin but all agreed to meet there Saturday afternoon for cocktails and catching up. It was good to see everyone and reminisce about old times. My days of roughing it at the cabin may be over but getting together with old friends is still pretty special.

So my way of roughing when up north is living with the Indians at the local casino hotel. With a sharp eye I stay vigilant and quickly recognize openings in their defenses. Unlike General Custer, I dart from buffet to slot machine to roulette table ... escaping capture but sacrificing my loot to the Ottawa warriors.

Leaving with hardly my scalp, I head south ... anticipating a tranquil and leisurely drive back to South Haven ... but wait! As I cross over the bridge in downtown Manistee I look to my left and see a large ore freighter poised in Manistee Lake ready to make the trip through town to the open water of Lake Michigan. Now if you didn't live around here and you looked at this 600ft ship you'd conclude that this behemoth was sort of a ship in the bottle as there would be no way something this size could ever get to that inland lake through this little waterway that meandered through downtown Manistee. I quickly turned around and headed to mid-town to get a vantage point whereas I could take a few pictures of this ark of ore as it squeezed through.




Now driving this little 'boat' through this mile long channel might seem pretty easy and maybe it is but ... the waterway isn't straight. It requires a rather tight right turn just after the stern passes beneath the first bridge (see raised bridge in the background). If the turn isn't precise the ship can run aground on the right or smash into the left shore. Of course that's after crushing a dozen pleasure boats already docked there.
























So if you think this waterway is not as small as I describe it and maybe this is all a little photo trickery... take a look at the guy fishing in the lower left corner of the image. Now here's a guy who can really complain about somebody stealing his favorite fishing hole.

As the boat got closer ... he correctly decided to retreat up the bank ... just in case.

Once the boat made the first turn he had to get lined up with the next bridge about 800ft away. She was already up tight against the pleasure boats but managed to use his bow thrusters and rudder to avoid pulverizing them and realign to center stream. Fighting a stiff wind and river current, this can't be easy.



Keeping the boat captain honest, the little minnow-like kayaks paddle along behind ... maybe pretending to be tub boats in waiting just in case the old girl drifts off course.

Built in 1929, the Maumee was the first self-unloading ore carrier on the Great Lakes. This technology revolutionized the shipping industry allowing ships to disgorge their cargo at ports that didn't have their own unloading equipment. Though I didn't know it at the time, an important piece of shipping history was passing before me... and I'm glad I did a little Googling later to uncover this part of the story.

As the old girl edged towards the big lake, I notice quite a number of folks had joined me river-side. Can't blame them as this is a sight that non-locals don't often see. One gent was taking pictures near me and asked if I followed this history of the great lakes boats. "I didn't" I said and he said he did ... noting that this may be the very last voyage for the old carrier. Having been on the sick and disabled list years past, apparently she's headed for the scrap heap after this trip. It's was only drawing about 20ft of water so I assumed it was empty. Water marks much higher up the hull indicated it usually carried a lot more weight. But those days are behind her now.

As she eased her way along the condo lined waterway, the crew was at the rail. These scruffy sea dogs were watching us watch them. I'm not sure who was enjoying the experience more.

Occasionally waving at the on-lookers, their young faces were weathered and well tanned. These were men of the sea.

With a slight course correction within 1/4 mile of the big lake, the majesty of this old boat could be finally seen in her 600ft entirety when the river widen. Rusty and worn. Survivor of of many a Great Lake storm. Her bow rode high in the water, maybe even a bit of pride showing as she knew she had a beat the odds and lasted for some 80 years doing the unglamourous job of hauling stuff most of us wouldn't recognize if a shovel full was placed at our feet.

I had the chance to witness a little of the Great Lakes shipping history today. Kind of a big deal for me, I think. In a age of 15 second sound bites, Twittering, and Facebook entries, this slow but steady old girl reminded me that once we had to do things methodically and over a period of time. This old ship's tasks were not easy, nor comfortable or without peril ... and yet she prospered and survived.

Easing past the Coast Guard station hidden behind her bow, the Maumee heads for open water and the trip through Lake Michigan and Lake Huron then on to Lake Erie.

Probably her last trip to Manistee.

The rest of the trip back to South Haven was not so eventfull but all that changed with the start of the new week. Stay tuned for supercharged Monday.....

It was a very good weekend. Old friends and old ships. A lot in common.

Still living the dream.

Phil

It ain't over... is it?

Say it isn't so. The fat lady hasn't sung has she? Where did all the flowers go? Please tell me it ain't so. Is it really over?
You know...Summer... what you waited for after that long, cold winter... what you hope will never end when you're comfortably ensconced in that lounge chair in the shade... gently sipping on that cool drink and reading your 401 statement from three years ago.


Oh but yes... it's almost over. The cool nights, the faint hint of orange in the tree tops, the 'Closing Soon' sign at the local Dairy Queen ... all speak of what's soon to pass and more ominously... what's soon to come.

As I watched a full moon chase a bright Jupiter across the evening sky the night bats darted amongst the pines seeking out other winged morsels, I glanced at my watch to only discover that it was only a little after 9:00pm and the sun had set and night was upon us. So it all must be true. The coals from the outdoor grill have lost their heat, the flowers of summer are fading fast. Can frozen nose hairs and hot toddies be close at hand?

We think ones life can best be measured not by what material things you've acquired... but by the friends and family that are blended into your day by day journey through time. We remember the many great places we've seen and the many fantastic moments we've experienced not by where we were... but by who we were with. So to all the many friends and family who have made this summer a special one to us ... thank you all.

Still livin' the dream and now trying to figure out where to escape a Michigan cold winter.