Flight of 5

Another long drive day, but eased by our finally seeing some serious terrain!  Mountains, we’ve missed you.

We headed north out of Spearfish on some semi-back roads to approach Devil’s Tower from the north.  This was Davista’s first real mountain driving.  I say it was hers, not mine, because driving it isn’t difficult, but you can hear and see that she’s straining.  We had finally gotten around to weighing her officially at a truck stop back in South Dakota (we’d done it in Maryland without her being fully loaded just to get a sense of how much more weight we’d be able to carry and where to load it), and were relieved to see that we were legal, at least in Winnebago/Ford’s eyes.  But just.  Essentially I don’t think there’s a way to do this type of endeavor in this kind of rig without pushing your max weight pretty much constantly.  It’s far more airplane-like than car-like to be continually considering your weight, weight distribution, and upcoming demands on the equipment, and then adjusting your water and fuel tank levels, etc in order to compensate.  Really, other than the weight shifting/shedding, the only recourse if we get into a really tough stretch is to pull over, disconnect the TOAD, and have Tacco drive it behind us while we manage the steep grades.

All that to say that she did fine, but I found that several stretches had her shifting all the way down to 2^nd gear and gutting it out at 4000-4500 RPM and 40 miles per hour, with the pedal floored.  I’m trying to decide whether I’m glad or foolish that I don’t have a transmission temperature gauge.

Devil’s Tower though.  Visually, it always impresses, even if it’s just a hunk of rock.  We hung out at the area below the base and had lunch & checked out the gift store, then drove into the park to check out the actual rocks from up at the actual base, but were told immediately at the gate that there was no more room for RVs, so if we’d like to go up we’d have to park in the trailer area below and hike up.  *sigh*  So I guess we’re those people.  We decided not so much on the hiking despite Woodsprite’s insistence that she wanted to go up there.  We knew that her enthusiasm would last for about 1/10^th of the hike and there wasn’t a ton of reward to be had up at the top, so we made it a photo op instead.

I got a kick out of Tacco asking me whether there had been UFO sightings there, as there were all sorts of “alien” tchotchkes in the store for sale.  I explained energetically that it was all about Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but immediately noted in her expression that that movie hadn’t made nearly the impression on her as it had on me, which led further to a realization that the four years that separate us is enough to create a generation gap of sorts.  i.e. I’m “the old guy” who vividly remembers Richard Dreyfuss carving the Devil’s Tower shape into his mashed potatoes, while she was pretty much just a young kid doing young kid things. *sigh again*

The remainder of the drive took us to Sheridan, WY, right at the base of the Bighorn mountains and just south of the border with Montana.  And here we hit our first truly substandard overnight situation.  At a KOA, no less, where we generally pay more than we do at the other campgrounds.  In fairness, it wasn’t really the KOA’s fault, but it sits right at the edge of a busy road upon which there’s all night construction, which is both noisy and dusty.  It’s wide open, not a tree to be found, and with dirt roads and sharp rocks, so not a good place for the kids to ride their bikes either, which has turned out to be the first thing they want to do when we stop, every time.  I like that.  At any rate, we shared the campground with only about a dozen other campers, spread way around the dusty site.  No matter though, it was only a one night stop, with a push on to Bozeman (hopefully) in the morning, and a short drive to Grand Targhee for the real fun the following day.  We did sleep well.

When deploying with the Navy back in the day, just weeks before heading home there were command-wide discussions about how to reenter life. Although I didn’t have a spouse to return to yet, I very specifically remember the advice given by the chaplain briefing us: Don’t go back into your household and assume your old role in your family.   Just as you have been changed by your deployment, so have your loved ones. Your family has been managing just fine without you and you will need to work together to reestablish your family dynamics.

Brilliant advice.

Although we are on a deployment of a very different sort and we’re just at the start, Flight’s days away from us number 9 of our first 15 underway, and the initial few we were all together were thick with the haze of our departure. Having just shown that I can handle this deployment thing all by myself (even repositioning this massive land craft) has placed us both in a changed mindset in a very short amount of time, and we have had an unusually tricky time trying to catch up with the change. I use “unusually tricky” because Flight and I have both become fairly adept at recognizing any uneasy space between us and pointing out to the other, “Hey, I feel like we’re not on the same page here. Can we talk about _____________?” In the wake of our six-day separation and Davista’s successful relocation, we might as well have still been in different time zones and neither of us said a word.

Compounding that lack of communication was a touch of senior officeritis. Maybe? I’m not sure just what that means, but it seems like a good description. Let me back up a little bit…

Entering into marriage a little later in life, Flight and I had each developed our own (mostly) competent way of doing things. Both of our “ways” to tackle most things will usually work well enough, but we each have technique items we prefer. In Naval Aviation, there are checklist items that are mandatory to accomplish according to standard operating procedures (SOP), yet “technique items” are just that, preferences on how to best accomplish non-mandatory tasks.   To cut down on confusion when training junior aviators there is always a distinction made between the two. Some senior aviators forget the distinction and technique items are adopted as SOP (I actually blame my genetic stock for such an inclination and not my aviation roots). Regardless of the task at hand, Flight is usually gracious enough to remind me when I confuse the two by simply asking “Is that a technique item?”

Only one more aviation reference in this post, I promise, as it is entirely germane to the current communication soup sandwich Flight and I have been savoring. In multi-piloted aircraft, whenever control of the aircraft shifts from one pilot to the other, there is a three-way change of control. The pilot assuming control of the aircraft says, “I have the controls.” The pilot relinquishing control says, “You have the controls.” And the pilot who now has the controls says again, “I have the controls.” Although it may sound as though we’re part of the Department of Redundancy Department, clarifying who’s flying the plane at such changeovers removes any ambiguity of piloting responsibility and has saved many lives. As I observed when we departed Brimley SP, establishing and following checklists (so as to not drive away from a campsite still plugged in) is critical. At least as important is revisiting who’s in charge of what prior to executing said checklist to keep us running smartly on the road (so neither of us assumes the other completed a checklist item like disconnecting us from the campsite’s electrical supply without actually having done so).

You might think that with all this common sense training during our collective time in aviation and 15+ years of marriage, we’d have this working-together-as-a-crew thing wired by now. For the most part, yes, but, apparently, not always so. Instead of discussing this new development, namely that I was also a newly minted Davista Mission Commander and we were each wrestling with what that meant, we oddly defaulted to the responsibilities we held prior to Flight’s six-day absence and both resented the implications. In fact, we never even discussed any alternatives to this established (?) SOP. Shame on us, we absolutely should know better.

So, as gracious as Flight’s post is about our trek across the Dakotas, he neglected to mention his frustration with doing the whole drive himself. Our lack of communication came to a head after this brutally long day of driving. Flight had offered another dawn patrol departure to book through Minnesota and South Dakota to get us to Spearfish, SD, where I have a friend from recruiting days. Operating under the assumption (Navy life lesson #2: Never Assume) that Flight has always preferred to drive whatever vehicle we’ve been in regardless of the distance (he is a pilot, one who has often touted, “what do I do for a living?” when previously questioned on planning such long (car only) drives), I figured he was happy to assume the controls out of Minneapolis and I gladly took up the right seat thinking, “Great – I can get some writing done.”

As the miles ticked by, Flight was getting more and more frustrated. Because I had already proven I was adept at driving Davista (had I?), he was waiting for me to offer to spell him for a period. Which I didn’t. In the 20+ years I have known Flight, if he has needed help with driving, he has always asked. He hadn’t, so I was happy to keep writing, trying to capture what we’d been up to in his absence, yet his growing resentment was compounding my own. For six days, he was off having grown up alone time and had ample time to write post after post, while I was pioneering this deployment thing in the wilds of the UP.   So, on the one hand, I felt as though I earned some quiet time to write. On the other, I did manage a homeport change without him, how come he hasn’t asked me to drive? Does he not trust me (I, ahem, haven’t always been the best at driving top heavy vehicles…)?

Not a word exchanged.

Adding to the frustration was our individual understanding of the plan of the day (POD). To break up the day, we had planned a couple of educational stops. The first was in DeSmet, SD, at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead. The girls practiced doing laundry the pioneer way (maybe they’ll assist with ours now?) and decided they would prefer a cabin to a sod house (and not just because that’s where the kittens were sleeping). Keeper enjoyed the riding adventure as much as the girls did and we all marveled at the pioneer “Packing List” (200 pounds of bacon?!). They also had a medicinal garden I coveted. I could have spent the rest of the day there. And Flight was itching to get back on the road.

Our next stop we missed by 15 minutes (maybe because I was stuck in the Ingalls Homestead gardens?). We hoped to see the Minuteman Missile National Historic Site, but arrived just after they closed.   Probably just as well. Although we didn’t get to see the Delta 1 Launch Control Center, just driving to the site spurred a “Deterrence vs. Disarmament” discussion with Keeper, which led to listening to Dan Carlin’s Hardcore History Podcast, “Destroyer of Worlds.” Highly recommended, if you have 6 hours of activity to accompany a podcast.

It was not until after we got to Spearfish, dined and visited with my dear friend before saying farewell, and then put the monkeys to bed, that we were able to discuss the day’s unfolding. Both then and in writing this post, I have come up with the following lessons learned (I’m sure Flight will add his own): 1) come up with and discuss a POD to appropriately manage expectations for everybody involved, including the kids; 2) clearly delineate who’s in charge of what for said POD and revisit turnover procedures, if necessary; 3) communicate often while executing POD to smooth the way forward; and 4) pop a bottle of wine and debrief regularly.  Shouldn’t be too tricky, right?

While teaching at the Naval Academy, I really enjoyed discussing peer leadership with midshipmen, as that’s perhaps the most challenging aspect of being a junior officer. As easy as it might be to just avoid doing so while at USNA, I would recommend that they dig in and do the hard work to develop that skill set now as it will serve them well for the rest of their lives. I would always cite being married to another Commander as a great example of using peer leadership in every day life. Flight and I have each become pretty decent at recognizing situations where the other’s expertise exceeds our own and we (mostly sometimes) defer to the other’s savvy.  We are still figuring out this Davista deployment thing and, while some of our respective “ways” are seamless transitions from non-mobile living, much of it is well outside our individual and collective bailiwicks. As you may imagine, it can occasionally be tricky having two senior officers in a marriage and this deployment is helping us to refine our operations – I look forward to seeing where it takes us.

 

 

There was quite a bit of talk about which Dakota was going to get our attention and gas money.

On the North Dakota side:

• Neither of us had ever set foot in the state
• Google Maps assured us it was the shortest path, by about an hour at least
• Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Didn’t know it was there?  Neither did we
• I’ve heard so much about the oil boom there and what it’s done to/for the state – wanted to see it first hand
• Looking ahead, I wanted to approach Grand Targhee from the North, rather than from the Jackson Hole side, both for potential traffic reasons and for brutal mountain pass reasons. We’d yet done much uphill travel and weren’t sure how our rig was going to fare.

On the South Dakota side:

• Everyone we asked the question to said “SOUTH DAKOTA, NO DOUBT!” Pretty much at least.  North Dakota did get some love, but for the most part it was more “if you do decide to go that way, at least do this…”
• The Black Hills are nice, though we’d been to Mt. Rushmore on our way out to Annapolis from WA and found that immediate area a bit too touristy
• Tacco wanted to see De Smet, where there’s a bunch of Laura Ingalls Wilder stuff (and Firebolt is in the process of reading Little House in the Big Woods)
• An old friend of Tacco’s lives in Spearfish, on the west side of the state, near Sturgis.

I’ll skip to the end of what took up far too much time and mental energy and tell you that we opted to take the southern route, but then cross back over into Montana so as to take the northern route around Yellowstone and into Grand Targhee.  An extra couple hours, but who’s counting?  Other than us I mean.  We’re counting.

Anyway, we set off from the west side of Minneapolis and found ourselves in what I’d long pictured the rural Midwest to look like.  Here’s our route:

Lots of small farming towns, and mostly arrow-straight roads.  I found that I thoroughly enjoyed that sort of driving, with one exception, and that’s that these particular roads, likely from the yearly repairs after the freeze/thaw cycle, have creases in them about every hundred feet or so.  They’re the type of thing you wouldn’t even notice in a normal car, but we’re so not normal.  I’ve alluded to our (lack of?) suspension before, but every tiny irregularity in the road makes its presence felt, so my experience of Minnesota and the eastern half of South Dakota was overlaid by a constant “ka-KLUNK [pause] ka-KLUNK [pause] ka-KLUNK” ad infinitum.  I’d say it put a damper on things but it was sort of the opposite of that, with the same effect.  If you know what I mean.

Still a nice drive though, with a steady (but not heavy) rain.  After a few hours, we pulled into De Smet and found the LIW homestead, which is actually a 50-or-so acre plot fashioned into a living museum of sorts, up a dirt road, our first in Davista.

Despite the rain, it was an excellent stop.  I earned Tacco’s scorn by running up along side the horses the kids were riding (one on actual horseback, two in a small rickshaw-type setup being pulled by a horse) to get a better vantage point for a picture.  Freaked the horses right out, which I’m now told is a completely predictable response.  Both she and the guide gave me a resigned “ignorant city folk” look.  Though hers was a bit more pointed.  She has some horse experience from childhood in the Midwest, and is savvier about such things in general.

Learned quite a bit about prairie living back in that time and some more about some of the Homestead Acts.  Still hard to fathom the government just giving away large tracts of land at a time when there really wasn’t much opportunity to own land, and in fact in Europe it was all owned by aristocracy.  No wonder so many folks crossed the pond.

The rest of the drive was kind of a grind, as this turned out to be our longest driving day so far – about 10 hours.  Certainly no record, but we’re doing our best to keep drives to 6 hours or less and do stops along the way.  We did cross the Missouri River half-way through South Dakota and noticed how different the landscape looked almost immediately.  My friend the night before had explained to us that SD is really two states, with the East of the Missouri side being farming country and the West of the Missouri side being all about ranching.  I made an effort to toss a little education into the mix by talking about rivers, watersheds, the Continental Divide, etc to the kiddos, but didn’t get much response.  In fairness, I only became really fascinated with geography in my 30s (other than an odd phase at 2-3 years old when I was all about a puzzle map of the US and decided to learn not only all the states, but their capitals too, which turned out to be quite the party trick), so I shouldn’t expect too much from them.  One of our goals is to have them be able to identify all the states, major cities, rivers, regions, and mountain ranges by the end of the year, but baby steps…

We got a peek at the Badlands from the interstate, but didn’t mind missing them too much as we’d spent some time there on our way from Anacortes to Annapolis 4 years earlier.

Finally pulled into Spearfish in the late afternoon/early evening, and found it to be an excellent little town.  It turned out that we missed the Sturgis rally by about a week, so the whole area was probably recovering and there was quite a bit of festival detritus on the way in, but the town is beautiful.  It sits on the edge of the Black Hills, with a cold stream running through town, on which lies both a trout hatchery and a city campground, where we stayed.  Keeper and the girls went straight to the fishing poles to see if they could pull the next day’s breakfast out of the stream, but no luck there.  Didn’t see any fish in the water at all in fact, so we might have missed the high season (or I scared them away, which seems to be a recurring theme with fish).

TC’s good friend from her recruiting days back in Whidbey joined us at the campground with some snacks and IPA, and we had an excellent visit until well into the evening.  Great to see her!

We wound up our time in Spearfish with a hike up the stream and around the hills a bit.  It was the first time this trip we’ve felt and smelled “mountain air” and it was extremely welcome.  I don’t think Spearfish is especially high in elevation, but the drive there from Minnesota was essentially one long, gradual climb.  The air was dry, it was warm in the day and cool at night, and it smelled like pines and fresh stream.  I love all of the above and am looking forward to much, much more of that.

It was an easy flying commute but a tough few hours.  After much back and forth and variations on the theme of “so you’re comfortable with this?” from my end, TC decided it was time to depart Michigan and get her trial by fire qualification via a drive from Michigan to Minneapolis.

In theory this was easy on me as I was able to simply fly to MSP from Boston after my redeye from Oakland.  Much easier than trying to get into Marquette or even Duluth.  In practice, it was nerve-wracking at best, thinking about her doing her first no-kidding long drive with the kiddos and without me.

Quick digression, though… I mentioned Oakland, and this was pretty cool.  I had 24 hours there during my second of two trips while gone from the family back in the UP, and was fortunate enough to have a brunch with my parents, my sister and brother-in-law, and all her kids (one home for the weekend from college even!) at my parents’ house.  This is extremely rare, both managing to do this sort of thing under the auspices of work and getting all of those people together at once.  Noteworthy and unforgettable!

Back to Minneapolis.  I arrived there at about lunchtime while TC and the fam were en route.  I was able to track Keeper’s phone’s location, so every half hour I’d keep my angst in check by bringing up the display of Keeper’s face trucking down Minnesota’s back roads toward Minneapolis.  Progress appeared solid, and I grabbed a Lyft to the park at which we’d planned to camp with the intention to scout campsites and check in prior to their arrival.  We had opted for a park on a lake (you need to work not to be on a lake in Minnesota I think) on the west side of town near a good college friend I’d hoped to visit while in town.

My Lyft driver was a very personable, younger Somali gentleman whom I was able to chat with on the 45 minute drive.  My Navy time never took me to the horn of Africa, and my knowledge of the area is more or less limited to Black Hawk Down and Iman / David Bowie, so I wasn’t the best conversational partner.  I did manage to ask him whether he enjoyed Minnesota (yes, but it’s quite cold in the Winter) and whether he missed Somalia at all (NO!).  Um, duh.

Returning to the family, Tacco killed it.

Managed both the gas station evolution (which requires far more pre-planning than it would appear) and a detour through downtown Minneapolis, the thought of which made me shudder.  They rolled in triumphantly in the late afternoon, and we settled into another thoroughly pleasant campground.  The Midwest seems to do these well.

The following day in Minneapolis was devoted to errands, as we’d yet to have such a day.  Eye exams and new glasses for the kiddos, Trader Joe’s for the rest of us, and a bit of mall time in the interim.  Not the Mall of America mind you, but the one in Wayzata is as thoroughly pleasant as the campground was, as is the rest of the town.  I can see why Brandon and Brenda missed it at times, despite their new Beverly Hills digs.  I’m sensing a recurrent “pleasant” theme in Minnesota.

We spent the evening catching up with one of my college roommates and great friends, and his oldest son at their gorgeous house on (another!) lake in Plymouth.  Fantastic.  As often happens, it ended up being the type of thing that was so brief that it makes me wish for a full-on several day visit instead, but still great to see him.  I’m able to do that sort of fly-by visit quite a bit with my job, but I’m finding that we’re doing even more of it than I’d expected we would with this trip, as we keep remembering about people who are in town and/or others who happen to be either vacationing in our area or currently living somewhere in our path.  It’s turning out to be one of the unexpected benefits of this year.  It would’ve been nice to join them on their boat on Lake Minnetonka the following day, but it was time to head West.

Wed (09 Aug) –

After we dropped Flight off at the airport, we headed into Marquette proper to explore. First, we had brekkie at Donckers, Marquette’s premier candy store (they have a delightful deli above the incredible sweets shop), and I enjoyed the best breakfast sandwich I have ever eaten. Seriously. Instead of being filled with peppermint patties and Doncker’s trademark caramels, which would have been equally scrumptious but maybe after dinner, my sandwich was brimming with hummus, goat cheese, tomato, avocado, ham, and topped with an organic egg – all on house-made focaccia goodness. Words cannot do it justice. The kids went for French toast and hot cakes, but my savory choice was perfect.

I’m not sure how I managed it, but over breakfast I convinced the kids we should check out the Marquette Regional History Museum next.   Unsure how well or for how long the exhibits might capture their attention, I was very pleasantly surprised by how much we all enjoyed the experience. The smaller rotating exhibit was on fly-fishing (something we hope to try on our journey), and I was impressed with the amount of information that was easily communicated in a relatively small space. The girls completed a scavenger hunt as they learned about the local area. The bonus was that the museum was hosting a series of day camp groups, which meant there were a group of play actors discussing the exhibits and we were able to listen in. I spoke with one fellow who was portraying the local blacksmith, whose role was loosely based on his grandfather’s life. My favorite (of course) was the discussion of herbal remedies used in the early 20^th century led by a retired pharmacist.

Hungered by our hours of exploration, we sought out another eating establishment to fill our bellies. As tempted as I was to return to Donckers, we instead chose The Delft Bistro, not due to the Dutch connection but because it boasted a great menu in an intriguing venue. Transformed from a 1914 movie theater, The Delft Bistro continues to show movies while providing delicious fare. The kids were thrilled to be able to watch a movie while enjoying their lunch (not something we usually encourage), and their preoccupation offered me the opportunity to plan out the rest of our afternoon and contemplate the rest of our time in da UP sans Flight.

Happily sated, we walked down W Washington St and found a couple of treasures along the way. As we meandered we found Taiga Games and were suckered in by the largest jigsaw puzzle I have ever seen:

 

Apparently it measures 17’x 6’ when complete. !!! We chose one a little smaller, 1/32 the size to be exact, and a roll-up puzzle mat in which to store it. We also spent considerable time browsing in Book World. Each with a Donckers’ treat, a new book, and a goodie from the museum store, we headed to the Suburu and returned to base, still unidentified mission complete.

Thursday (10 Aug)

In gathering research for the homeschooling aspect of our adventure, a good friend shared that it’s important to build in some down time for every few days of experiential learning to allow the kids to process their experiences. Wise advice, one I followed today. We spent the day reading, relaxing, riding bikes, and enjoying some beachtime.

Friday (11 Aug)

Friday was rainy and made for a perfect laundry day – woo hoo! Although there are some larger RVs that have a small washer and dryer aboard, ours does not. Fortunately. I had read in most places that it’s far better use of limited resources (water and electricity) just to go to a laundromat. Where else can you get five loads of laundry done in the time it takes to do one? Works for me. It offered us the time to knock out our homeschool efforts for the day and gave us another excuse to further explore Marquette.

After lunch at Donckers (couldn’t stay away), we retrieved a lost item from the game store before going to the Upper Peninsula Children’s Museum. Although Keeper was less enthusiastic about this part of our excursion (“Mom, this is for LITTLE KIDS.”), the girls were immediately enthralled. Not unlike its cousin a few blocks away, this museum was incredibly well appointed.   I lost track of how many alcoves there were (and occasionally the girls), each with a different subject to explore and presented in an ingenious way. Curious about digestion? You can pretend to be lunch, scale a climbing wall in the stomach and take a slide down through the intestines.   Interested in where stuff disappears to when you flush the toilet? Take a slide down a toilet into a sewer system where you can learn about the water table. Again, brilliant. While Keeper watched YouTube science videos and the girls ardently explored, I chatted with a lovely Yooper who gave us some good gouge on how to spend our remaining time in da UP.

Bribing the girls to leave with a promise to get frozen yogurt, we headed back to W. Washington St. After a quick stop at Taiga Games (Firebolt had left a toy in the game store, which was just where she’d left it two days before), I made good on my bribe.

Our last stop in town was my favorite. The local Co-Op thrilled my foodie self. Having worked our way through much of our last Trader Joe’s run in Detroit, I purchased both staples and sundries to refill our larder and we headed home after a satisfyingly productive day in Marquette.

Saturday (12 Aug) –

Our excursion of the day involved a two-hour drive out to Kitch-Iti-Kipi or The Big Spring, which is near Manistique.   The girls had a trickier time of it having lost the privilege of using anything with a screen. To entertain us during the drive, I asked Firebolt to read Little House in the Big Woods aloud, in preparation for a possible visit to the Laura Ingalls Wilder Homestead in DeSmet, SD, should we opt to go that route when we zip out to Grand Targhee to view the eclipse.

Although finding the “Mirror of Heaven” (title bestowed by early Native Americans) was not unlike completing a treasure hunt without a map (have I mentioned the sketchy cell-phone coverage in da UP?) and unlabeled landmarks, the long trek was certainly worth it. The underwater springs feed this gorgeous pool over 10,000 gallons of chilly fresh water every minute. !!!

After waiting in line for a stretch (apparently we’re not the only ones who chose to visit the springs on a summer Saturday), during which we were enlightened by a very knowledgeable volunteer guide, we boarded the observation craft. It’s a basic pontoon with a large hole cut out of the center to watch both the vast fish population and the springs as they gush, and it is child powered (= brilliant!) to traverse the pool and return.

We opted not to make our way to the nearby mining ghost town for three reasons: 1) Woodsprite could not be convinced that the vacant town was not occupied by ghosts; 2) “nearby” ended up being 45 minutes in the opposite direction from Van Riper SP; and 3) the day was wearing on and we needed to get back to make dinner before the park hosted Showers and S’mores. The staff at Van Riper had a scavenger hunt (two in one week!) to learn about our solar system and the girls made Sky Wheels to orient themselves to the constellations while they enjoyed their s’mores.

The Perseid Shower put on quite a show and, being tucked away in the wilds of Michigan, there wasn’t a lot of ambient light to compete. Chilled to the bone, we trundled off to bed at 11ish at last.

Sun (13 Aug) –

We had a bit of a lie in this morning owing to our late night. This morning I spoke with Flight about his rejoining the family. He is scheduled to land from his last flight into Boston at 6 a.m. tomorrow after a brutal red eye, yet wouldn’t be able to get to us in Marquette until 11ish tomorrow night – and that’s if he made the flight. Hmmmm…

The better options, namely his flying into Duluth or Minneapolis, would have him arriving mid-afternoon. That sounded much better to me, the only problem is either of those more palatable options would necessitate my growing a set of ovaries and driving our 50’+ circus train there to meet him. I think I need to sit with that, maybe review the checklist a few times and do a feasibility study. And drink some scotch. Sorry, Copper Harbor and Isle Royale National Park, we’ll catch you another time, I have to brood…

So I abandoned my family in the wilds of Michigan.

OK, it wasn’t quite so dramatic as that, but I didn’t enjoy leaving them for that long.  Going forward I’m going to have to balance having fewer commutes to/from Boston with having long stretches of time away from the fam.  We all knew this was the deal going into this adventure, but there’s knowing and there’s knowing.  The reality hadn’t hit yet.

There were some positives though.  First of all, as Tacco already covered, Van Riper SP turned out to be one of the better campgrounds we’ve stayed at, despite its being not especially near anything we wanted to see.  That was a huge relief for me.

I was also able to spend a night in our house back in Annapolis and make sure things were more or less in order, as well as knocking out my semi-annual FAA physical with my normal doctor.  Bonus in that I was able to visit a few cousins who happened to be rolling through town.

My commute went well, too, and that was far from a given.  I flew out of Marquette, which is a small airport with only a few scheduled flights per day  [side note: are we the only two who didn’t know that Marquette University is nowhere near Marquette, Michigan?  It’s in Milwaukee, in case we aren’t].  The two that were my only potential players for a connection to Boston prior to my show time both looked full, so I was crossing fingers for no-show passengers or an available cockpit jumpseat.  Fortunately I got the latter to Chicago and was able to get to Boston relatively easily.

Tacco covered our UP time as well, and did a bang up job of it.  She and the kids were, of course, there for much more time than I, so I don’t have much to add.  I will say that, though it’s gorgeous, if I had to choose between the northern part of the lower peninsula and the UP I’d opt for the former.  Pictured Rocks on Lake Superior is stunning, and that red/pink/purple sand is like nothing I’d ever seen.  The park in general, however, seemed like the type of place better seen from the water than the shore.  Unfortunately we didn’t have time to test that theory.

The latest issue involves my commute back, more specifically where I commute back to.  Tacco hasn’t yet done a full uproot-and-reroot-the-family-via-a-long-drive evolution and is rightfully cautious about doing so.  On the other hand, they’ve been in Van Riper for quite some time, and despite my trip ending early in the morning after a redeye, I couldn’t get back to Marquette until late evening, and am dependent on the same small/full flights that I lucked into on the way out to Boston.  An option would be for them to move west to Duluth, where I could reach them by afternoon.  A better option (but much longer drive for them) would be to meet them in Minneapolis.  Not only would it be a much easier and single-leg commute, but it gives us a head start on our bolt across the prairie to the mountains and our appointment with the eclipse.  But…

I’m skittish about this, for obvious reasons.  I was hoping she would be able to become comfortable with decamping-driving-camp setup while I was present, if for no other reason than to provide moral support and peace of mind.  Probably more for me than for her.  It’s not that it’s difficult, it’s just a lot.  And driving through Minneapolis could present challenges that she didn’t get driving through rural Michigan.  But we shall see.

So, in the last post I originally melded two days together and wanted to get my story straight.  Our first night in da UP, we stayed in Grimley State Park on the shores of Lake Superior.  Before we departed, the kind camp hosts recommended we stay in Baraga State Park, which is also on Lake Superior, when we let them know of our upcoming plans.  They both gushed about the park’s beauty and access to Copper Harbor, which they assured me was not to be missed.  We had been up late the last few nights doing research and found that there were only two campsites in the UP that had room for us for all six days of Flight’s impending absence: Baraga SP and Van Riper SP.  We had only a few critical qualifications: 1) we had to be close enough to Marquette to get Flight to the airport to commute to Boston early in the morning to start his next trip; 2) be centrally located enough so that the kids and I could reasonably explore the area in his absence; and 3) be more than 1.1 miles from a maximum security prison.  Baraga State Park fell out of the running for failing to meet all three of these requirements and we happily made our reservations at Van Riper State Park.

From Brimley SP, we got underway and, because we hadn’t clearly discussed who was running what part of the checklist, we made a few rookie moves when we omitted a couple of important steps (NB: It’s good to have a “Getting Underway” checklist, yet it is far less effective if you fail to reference it while actually getting underway).  The most embarrassing of these was when I pulled Davista out of our spot (Flight was driving the Toad until we found enough straight roadway to hook them up) to much fanfare from our former neighbors.  I waved and wasn’t sure why they were making such a commotion until I caught “…STILL PLUGGED IN!!” through the window.  Not anymore.  Yep, did that.  Strong work, Navy, strong work.

The second oops wasn’t too bad (or maybe my pride was still stinging from the first one)…  We pulled up to dump the tanks and a kind fellow (also dumping unmentionables but in the next lane over) let me know that one of our vents was open.  We have three vents that crank open for increased airflow, and, when open, the portal covering of each extends about a foot above the top of Davista.  These wind catchers should most certainly be closed while moving or they might be ripped off in the wind and leave gaping holes in the roof (that’s bad).  Roger, use the checklist.  That’s why we have one.  Appropriate tanks dumped, fresh water replenished, and vents closed, we sheepishly pulled out to begin our journey to Van Riper SP.

Our first stop was at Oswald’s Bear Ranch, a location that rescues black bears separated from their mothers too young to make it in the wild or those from families who have taken them in as pets only to be overwhelmed when they outgrow their expectations. Like that of most zoo-like experiences, my reaction to this place alternated between awe (where else are you going to be able to feed and pet a bear cub?) and a touch of sadness as I projected my (human) perception of their plight.   Moving on…

We stopped again near Pictured Rocks to give the kids (and me) another look at Lake Superior’s shoreline. We were all surprised and enchanted by the red and very fine sand beaches – I had no idea that lined some of the beaches of Lake Superior. My only visual data point of the Lake Superior’s shores was taken from a puzzle our family had done a couple years ago showing a gorgeous rocky shoreline – I guess the coast line varies widely around the Lake.  Who knew?

We also did a short hike through the wetlands along a boardwalk and learned about the entire circle of life in that region.  For some reason, after reading The Martian with Flight and then seeing the movie, Keeper has glommed onto striking his interpretation of “The Fonz” pose at every opportunity.

During the remainder of our trek to our next port visit, Flight and I started second guessing our decision to go to VRSP.  We tried to come up with some specific criteria for staying, but realized we really didn’t have a better option and would just have to make the most of it.  Flight asked if I’d be okay if there was no cell phone coverage in this remote part of the UP, meaning we’d have zero communication during his 6-day absence.  With more bravado certainly than I felt, “Sure – we won’t be at the park all day every day.  We’ll be out exploring. I’m sure we can make it work. And, besides, I can move us to another campground if need be.”  As if.

At last we made our way to Van Riper, noting the turn off to the airport as we’d be seeing that at zero dark thirty the next morning, and breathed a collective sigh of relief.  Our new spot (number (94-2) if you are taking notes) was probably the best one in the campsite.  We were steps away from the new bathhouse, a short bike ride/hike to four different playgrounds (two of which were on the beach), and 4 bars of LTE – WOO HOO!   Flight, you’re cleared for departure…