Saturday September 19, 2009:
171.3 miles. Left Baraboo 10:12 am. Gas: 1.49.9/ gal. Total: 37.78
Squishy penny. Pictures. Post card.
Thoughts: I was pretty grumpy. I don’t know why. Perhaps because I was awakened at 3:30 am on my phone (scaring the crap out of me…Is it my son in a horrible accident?) … and again by someone pounding on my window at 4:30 am. Drunken diatribes delivered just before my departure was not a great way to start.
I had so many reservations at first, I kept thinking I would just skip the whole thing. I mean, really?? Why does it matter? It was just a waste of time and money. And who cares?? The one thing nearly everyone could NOT understand was the fact I was traveling alone… sans solo… alto nada… So, really who cares?
But, as I was traveling along (at hypersonic speeds by the way, as I was…of course.. running late) the beautiful greenery and farm fields of Wisconsin were whizzing by, I couldn’t help but feel better. Little by little, my problems subsided and my worries (founded and un-so) diminished into the bright blue skyline.
I’ve figured out that my GPS is mentally retarded. (I know, I know…not PC…okay.. let’s jus say my GPS is insane!!).. I had a clue of this a month ago, as I took a trip up north to Wausau, where I followed it’s so-called “route guidance” to 110 miles out of the way. Again today, exactly the same. I kept scratching my head…why would it require 4 and ½ hours to reach Manitowoc? Well, the stupid thing would have you reach the port city via Oshkosh and AROUND lake Winnebago. Huh?
Like I said, crazy. Just more evidence that though technology is nice, it is never the whole answer to anyone’s problems!
I arrived at the Car Ferry port at 1:15 pm. I was so concerned about getting on time, I missed the turn in twice. Still, no problem. They led my car to the on ramp, where they took my car into the cavern of the boat. I took out my faithful Lands End shoulder bag with all my necessities; Library book, water bottle, wallet, camera and (very important) hooded sweatshirt.
I remembered the last time I took the car ferry with my son some 7 years ago, the warm sunny day gave way to windy and very chilly conditions on deck. And that was in August. I was certainly right about the sweatshirt. Though the day was clear and sunny, the waves were tall and the wind was raw.
It was a sweet ride, and I was surprised the boat was not nearly as crowded as I remember. (both a good and bad thing)… The front top deck, is populated by chairs and lounger chairs. I was shocked there were plenty for all, as I made my first home on the deck in the midday sun. I noticed there were more “elderly” people (you mean, like me?) than young. But, the guy with the Homburg Hat, pipe and brown corduroy suit was in a group with like-minded 60-somethings on what was no doubt a group adventure (Funny note, as I was picking up my car, I noticed this same man was driving….what else?? A 1996 silver Chevy HHR. I look into my future?).
Looking out about half way, you cannot see land on either side. No fishing or sailing boats either. Pretty close, I imagine to what it must feel like on the ocean. The wind whipped and the sun was bright… the constant motion of the boat was like rocking an old man to sleep. It was a short nap. However, perhaps I should not have been facing the sun… as I awoke with a definite burn to my face! Good lord, the last thing anyone needs to see is me…the chubby lobster!!!
On a temporal note: I really felt that this is the place I belong. I’ve said it so many times before… I was born in the wrong place and in the wrong time. I looked out on the waves, and I just felt like I was home. How can you explain it? A life somehow short-circuited? I was drowned in the blues and rock and roll and guitars and awash in “groupies” and alcohol… but I should have been a shipman.. first mate… a scubby.. not a townie. A mid-tech or a watchman… instead of a computer geek. A sailor… not a landlubber!
I know, it’s romanticizing it all… like a real-life movie of Titanic.. People that make their living from the sea make a hard and short life. Still, there was no doubt about the call the waves of Lake Michigan sounded to my soul. I wonder, if the sirens call be even stronger once I reach the ocean?
In just over four hours, the sweet ride on the water was over. I reached the motel here in Ludington feeling exhausted. It was almost like I was at the wheel of the boat the entire time. Odd. But my face is sun and wind burnt, my Baraboo worries are long behind me, my soul salved and my future seems again bright.
Tomorrow: Eastward… into the armpit of the America.. not far where they USED to make T-birds and bumper of steel and chrome. Now, it’s rusted and falling apart.. A testament to people that have never learned to change with the times. Buggy whips for all, I say!
Still, like any great rock and roll song, there’s still heat under the hood of that Chevy… and just like Bob Seger could tell you much better than I.. rock and roll never forgets! Eastward ho!
Yours’: The accidental tourist.
171.3 miles. Left Baraboo 10:12 am. Gas: 1.49.9/ gal. Total: 37.78
Squishy penny. Pictures. Post card.
Thoughts: I was pretty grumpy. I don’t know why. Perhaps because I was awakened at 3:30 am on my phone (scaring the crap out of me…Is it my son in a horrible accident?) … and again by someone pounding on my window at 4:30 am. Drunken diatribes delivered just before my departure was not a great way to start.
I had so many reservations at first, I kept thinking I would just skip the whole thing. I mean, really?? Why does it matter? It was just a waste of time and money. And who cares?? The one thing nearly everyone could NOT understand was the fact I was traveling alone… sans solo… alto nada… So, really who cares?
But, as I was traveling along (at hypersonic speeds by the way, as I was…of course.. running late) the beautiful greenery and farm fields of Wisconsin were whizzing by, I couldn’t help but feel better. Little by little, my problems subsided and my worries (founded and un-so) diminished into the bright blue skyline.
I’ve figured out that my GPS is mentally retarded. (I know, I know…not PC…okay.. let’s jus say my GPS is insane!!).. I had a clue of this a month ago, as I took a trip up north to Wausau, where I followed it’s so-called “route guidance” to 110 miles out of the way. Again today, exactly the same. I kept scratching my head…why would it require 4 and ½ hours to reach Manitowoc? Well, the stupid thing would have you reach the port city via Oshkosh and AROUND lake Winnebago. Huh?
Like I said, crazy. Just more evidence that though technology is nice, it is never the whole answer to anyone’s problems!
I arrived at the Car Ferry port at 1:15 pm. I was so concerned about getting on time, I missed the turn in twice. Still, no problem. They led my car to the on ramp, where they took my car into the cavern of the boat. I took out my faithful Lands End shoulder bag with all my necessities; Library book, water bottle, wallet, camera and (very important) hooded sweatshirt.
I remembered the last time I took the car ferry with my son some 7 years ago, the warm sunny day gave way to windy and very chilly conditions on deck. And that was in August. I was certainly right about the sweatshirt. Though the day was clear and sunny, the waves were tall and the wind was raw.
It was a sweet ride, and I was surprised the boat was not nearly as crowded as I remember. (both a good and bad thing)… The front top deck, is populated by chairs and lounger chairs. I was shocked there were plenty for all, as I made my first home on the deck in the midday sun. I noticed there were more “elderly” people (you mean, like me?) than young. But, the guy with the Homburg Hat, pipe and brown corduroy suit was in a group with like-minded 60-somethings on what was no doubt a group adventure (Funny note, as I was picking up my car, I noticed this same man was driving….what else?? A 1996 silver Chevy HHR. I look into my future?).
Looking out about half way, you cannot see land on either side. No fishing or sailing boats either. Pretty close, I imagine to what it must feel like on the ocean. The wind whipped and the sun was bright… the constant motion of the boat was like rocking an old man to sleep. It was a short nap. However, perhaps I should not have been facing the sun… as I awoke with a definite burn to my face! Good lord, the last thing anyone needs to see is me…the chubby lobster!!!
On a temporal note: I really felt that this is the place I belong. I’ve said it so many times before… I was born in the wrong place and in the wrong time. I looked out on the waves, and I just felt like I was home. How can you explain it? A life somehow short-circuited? I was drowned in the blues and rock and roll and guitars and awash in “groupies” and alcohol… but I should have been a shipman.. first mate… a scubby.. not a townie. A mid-tech or a watchman… instead of a computer geek. A sailor… not a landlubber!
I know, it’s romanticizing it all… like a real-life movie of Titanic.. People that make their living from the sea make a hard and short life. Still, there was no doubt about the call the waves of Lake Michigan sounded to my soul. I wonder, if the sirens call be even stronger once I reach the ocean?
In just over four hours, the sweet ride on the water was over. I reached the motel here in Ludington feeling exhausted. It was almost like I was at the wheel of the boat the entire time. Odd. But my face is sun and wind burnt, my Baraboo worries are long behind me, my soul salved and my future seems again bright.
Tomorrow: Eastward… into the armpit of the America.. not far where they USED to make T-birds and bumper of steel and chrome. Now, it’s rusted and falling apart.. A testament to people that have never learned to change with the times. Buggy whips for all, I say!
Still, like any great rock and roll song, there’s still heat under the hood of that Chevy… and just like Bob Seger could tell you much better than I.. rock and roll never forgets! Eastward ho!
Yours’: The accidental tourist.
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