Adventure 489: Good Bye Eden/Homeward Bound

65 years of service and counting

For our last night at Little Eden Camp, we were reminded that since we humans still carry the burden of original sin, we should not get too comfortable in paradise. To wit, last night blasted us with the heat of hades. We slept little as we tossed, turned, and sizzled like hotdogs on a state fair rotisserie. The weather lived up to everything I find distasteful: hot, (Did I say hot?), humid (Did I say sticky?), and wet (Can you feel the trickle of sweat rivers emanating from somewhere?) Nonetheless, buoyed by the pleasurable memories Camp offered us most of the week, we hit the road a little ahead of schedule, and made it to the Ludington Ferry dock just before boarding began at 7:45 A.M. Vehicle owners are not allowed to drive their own vehicles aboard the SS Badger, the venerable historically significant ferry launched in 1953. She remains the only coal fired ferry still in service. Nervously, we watched a very capable young man back Fric and Frac into the bowels of the ferry. She suffered no dings loading or unloading, and for that I'm grateful. If I were more paranoid, I would have taken pictures before she was loaded. Fortunately, that precaution was unnecessary. Though an impressive craft, crossing Lake Michigan on the SS Badger proved anticlimactic due to the pea soup fog that lasted the entire trip. Instead, we were treated to the unnerving blast of the ship's fog horn, an ear shattering blast that occurred every four or five minutes. Still, nervous as cats in a bathtub, Judy and I toured the ship. Once we had our bearings, we settled on a table in the stern cafe. We shared one plate of breakfast buffet, and I came from waaaaaaaay, waaaaay back to nip the Cager at the buzzer. I left her a peg away from victory and gloated like a Republican celebrating a Supreme Court decision. Unfazed, and ever classy, she took her second place trophy with the aplomb of a well mannered debutante. We spent most of the crossing in the comfortable seats in the movie lounge where we caught up on the sleep Little Eden's weather snatched from us the night before. Once Fric and Frac were returned to us, we made our dash into the silo filled farm lands of Eastern Wisconsin. At one point as we drove through Fox Lake, WI, we came upon a longstanding drive in that still has car hops. Ours was a very sweet local girl named Grace. She brought us our chocolate milk shake with a smile, graciously answered my Chamber of Commerce questions, and bid us a good day. She turned out to be the vehicle of real grace. Our delay stopping at the drive cost us a little over a half hour. That matters because as we neared our stopping point just West of Lacrosse, a big, wind banging, lightning bolt throwing, torrential rain pouring heat storm faced us head on. If we hadn't stopped in Fox Lake, we would have been committed to another hour driving through the pounding rain, the electric bolts, and the plus sixty mile per hour wind. Instead, we were able to make a different decision, and now we're comfortably ensconced in room 221 at the Country Inn and Suites in Sparta, WI. So, we're happy once again that life is good, especially today.

The SS Badger  as she lay when we arrived.

 We were loaded first, which meant this driver had to back Fric and Frac across the parking lot and then to the farthest point back into the bowels of the 416 foot ship.

 The fog lifted near Manitowoc, so we took out selfie of the day on the stern.

 Salient details of the SS Badger

Unfortunately, no panoramic view of Lake Michigan happened today.

The fog left the decks glossed with slippery wetness.

 Fric and Frac disembarking safely.

 I'm a sucker for old times drive ins.

 Grace, a cheerful and efficient representative of Mullin's Drive-In

 My camera didn't quite capture the blackness nor the scary quilting patterns of the clouds.

 Rain no wiping action could clear and wind at plus sixty.

 Thankfully, here in America the Great, a room for rent was available with no voice.

 Tonight's campsite.

Adventure 488: Little Eden Camp/Post G

Love is a pure heart.

The week, filled as it was with the richness and warmth of family love, passed slowly. It was as if we perchance a dream, a dream so sweet and lovely it couldn't be hurried. In fact, it had to be replayed, slo-mo,  so we could savor every minute. But alas, as the bard lamented, "Parting is such sweet sorrow." And yet we're all bursting with the rapturous love that all fresh lovers feel. Every pore in our body has sopped up the events of the week.  We tingle like Japanese bath guests in an electric hot pool. We giggle like school girls sharing a special secret. We imagine infinity and trust immortality like boys floating home made boats down a creek. A new world awaits. A better world, but none better than the one where we exist with our loved ones. In this new world,  we replace old memories with new, old experiences with fresh, and we bathe ourselves in the hope that we'll never wake. Sadly, as  adults who've seen a thing or two, we're aware that dreams are ephemeral.  So reality speaks to us in the manner of Robert Frost, and we know that since  way leads onto way, It's possible that we will never come back. And yet, like children, we let out a sigh, a puff of hope that says, "Well, maybe..."  Because coming here has made all the difference. It started out, laughingly, as a FOMO Tour. But the fear of missing out, even in its wildest iteration cannot begin to capture the joy that togetherness provides. We may not travel this way again (Time will tell), but our time here this week with these people will forever be etched in our memories. That my friends, is a path well taken and it perfectly explains why life is good, especially today.

Cabin "Lebanon".

 The kids left first. Traveling mercies led them home safely.

 Not a dry eye in the yard, as we waved good bye.

 We took in a hike at the Lake Bluff Bird Sanctuary. Above are the posted rules.

 The place, owned by the Audubon Society, perfectly captured the peace of this past week.

 The barbecue pit enjoys a nice view of Lake Michigan.

 This is one of many verdant trails cut into the tall grasses of the property. Over a hundred different species of trees dot the property. We stopped at several to read the informational signs.

 The place produced so much calm, that not even the gazillion bugs affected us.

 Every living thing is allowed to grow freely.

 The place produced such magical powers, I was able to walk on water for a bit.

Even the predators are welcome.

We ended our visit with a Friday Night Fish Fry at a pub in Bear Lake.

Our waitress, Nicole, who was as supremely incompetent as she was delightful, helped make our last night out enjoyable.

The night was made better because old friends of the Friesen's and Franz's joined us. They've become new friends of ours now. Such was the spirit of this past week at Little Eden Camp, a place so warm it lives up to its claim as a small piece of paradise.

Adventure 477: Little Eden Camp/Post F

Selfies with my Bunny: Definitely a good habit

We awoke to a beautiful day at Little Eden Camp. We did our usual things.  The sisters solved puzzles. The guys went fishing. Scott and Kate went running. We ate, we laughed, we enjoyed our time together. I rode thirty-five miles and spent much of that time thinking. I mostly thought  about what Kate's husband, Scott, said yesterday, which was, "I think a person's taste in music solidifies by age thirty." I don't agree. My musical tastes have evolved steadily over the years. But I also thought, "What about my world-view? Has it become hardened? Is my mind open? Closed? Narrow? Broad? And more to the point, on what do I base my beliefs? So as I rode, I pondered my world, and this is what I know.

I'm a creature of habit, and some of my habits are good. One of my best is daily prayer; you know...Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep... I say the same three prayers every morning and every night: First, I pray for a grateful spirit; Second, I pray for a pure heart; and third, I pray for a guiding light. Note: How could I not be grateful? By accident of birth, a strong measure of work, a little luck, and a large dose of grace, I find myself basking in the luxurious lap of white privilege. I'm fortunate to live in a country where I'm free to worship as I deem fit, express my opinion without  fear of repression, and earn life's comforts from the fruit of my own labor. I can't ask anymore, and it's certainly a long way from my beginnings. I would have been the bastard child of a teenage mother if not for the norms of her religion and the mores of our culture. As it was, her forced marriage was doomed from the beginning, and so, again by fated circumstance, I was thrown headlong into an upbringing where my survival depended on an uneducated, single mother who, even though she worked tirelessly, had at times, to stand in line for government cheese and powdered milk. She hated it. I'm sure it damaged her pride. As for my current lot in life, I believe it mostly to be the result of unearned grace. My Bunny chided me the other day, "Didn't your mother teach you any better than that?' It caused me to ask myself, What did my mother teach me? My mother, a caustic, paranoid woman had a heart like a fist, so she didn't teach me compassion, nor did she teach me genteel manners. She taught me to be cautious; she filled me with fear; she  made me feel less than. It's taken me a lifetime to erase some of the things my mother taught me. But she also taught me the value of work, the righteousness of honesty, the importance of integrity, and that the path to self worth came through accomplishment. She may have had a hard heart, but it was pure. It's largely because of her that I became driven to get "better". In these times when our leaders are crude, rude, vulgar, self-righteous, narcissistic, supercilious, demeaning, cruel, and unjust, I ask myself, How pure is my own heart? How many times in developing my own world view have I succumbed to the behaviors I've just listed. The answer is too many, and every time I find myself reeking from the stench of my own hypocrisy, I pray for the strength to be a better man. And it's that hope that guides me. I'm sometimes confused by the gifts I've been given. I know the Lord is testing me, otherwise he wouldn't have handed me free will or given me the ability to think. And so I ask myself, Where is my guiding light?  In the final analysis, what is my true North? To that I must answer: God's will. If it weren't for my firm faith that I as a mere man cannot possibly understand the sublime nuance of God's mind, I'd lose all hope in these troubled times.  So, even in the midst of a disheartening world where justice is hard to find, truth is hard to discern, and motives are often hardened by greed, I can still say that life is good, especially today.

 As usual, our morning began with fresh Semel.

 This is Erin, best human of the day. She's unusually aware, and gave me excellent directions for back road travel. I used her knowledge twice.

 The official Pastie taste off. Although tasty, the Lehto pastie took second place to the home made version we bought from our neighbors at OB Fuller County Campground in Bark River, MI.

 Study break for Miss Karen. Caffeine is an absolute necessity for enduring Educational Psychology. 

Miss Karen explaining the sleeping arrangement for two people sharing an old fashioned double bed who are used to a king, That may explain the need for coffee during the study break.

Miss Jane's rocker bench.

 I'm sure she enjoyed this view from her bench many times.

 Little Eden Camp consists of somewhere near thirty cabins. Some are well maintained vintage models. Others are more modern.

 All cabins have names above the door. But only the "Shuffle-Inn" has the rules of camp posted.

 The Shuffle-Inn" has matching windows, both with with pretty flower boxes.

 The Shady Nook has been occupied for many years by "Barbie", so named because of the Barbie Dolls zip tied to her car.

Finally, as always, the beauty of sisterly love glows.

Adventure 476: Little Eden Camp/Post E

Life's not just good, it's sweet.

A hard rain began about midnight and lasted well into the night. By morning a steady, but soft drizzle steamed more than pitter-pattered the trailer. I took the opportunity to stay under my warm covers, although my eyes did pop open on schedule at 6:30. Judy got up with the birds as usual, but even she came back to bed for another snuggle. We didn't roll out until nearly nine. By eleven the rain clouds had left behind a steamy haze and by the time we returned from another day of memory making, the sun was high in the sky, kids were swimming, old folks were sunning, moms were momming, and the camp vibrated with activity. Today's tradition involved a trip to Beulah to Northern Michigan's famous Cherry Hut. In business since 1922; the college kids working the place for the summer still looked sharp, the girls in red and white pinstripes, and the boys in cherry red pants and pure white shirts. After a piece of cherry pie ala mode, a side of fries, a chocolate sundae, and my cherry ade float, we made for the second part of tradition Wednesday, which was a trip to the Betsie Lighthouse to pick up rocks. Aunt Karen spreads them in her garden, paints a few for gifts, and has for twenty-four years taken as many as she could carry back home to Kansas. I don't know what future archeologists will surmise when they unearth the treasure on Thackery Street. For dinner, we had reservations at the finest dining establishment in Onekama, The Glenwood whose claim is Distinctive Dining. We were not disappointed. To top the day off, conditions finally favored us for a sunset cruise on Lake Michigan. We watched the sun set, and as an added bonus, we watched the full moon rise on the way in. In between,we giggled like school children, relived some bygone days, prayed together, ate together (Often), and otherwise enjoyed ourselves in such a way as to say, "Life is good, especially today.

 The happy campers dressed for dinner.

 The sisters showing off their "wobbles".

 For Janie.

 And for these two.

 A fine group of distinctive diners.

 Miss Kate, a happy Little Eden camper, circa 2002.

 Miss Kim, herself a happy camper, circa 2002.

 A Northern Michigan institution.

 To paraphrase Garrison Keillor, "We're all cherry heads now."

 Who cares that we just ate lunch; bring on the PIEs, FRIES, AND FUDGE!

 The beach at this point loses some rocks every year. They just get in a car and drive to Kansas.

Point Betsie is still quite stunning.

Sunset.

  Moonrise. And like Jimmy Valvano said, "To live a full day you must think, laugh, and cry." We lived another full day, and we're thankful for it.