"Tic Tac Toe"
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Once you cross the sky-high bridge in Green Bay it's easy sailing. No more bumper-to-bumper 80 MPH car tag.
Now the bugs begin. Huge critters smacking the windshield, florescent green bug guts dripping down the glass. DON'T use your wipers; it just becomes a big fishy smear. Billy and I are meeting the rest of the group at the cabin. We are all to arrive between 10 and midnight. Only three hours to go now.
I had my eyes dilated by the optometrist two days ago and everything is still a bit of a blur. I am thankful for the darkness and for the absence of cars lights flying at me. Billy brought along music, stuff he thought I might like: Extreme: lll Sides to Every Story, Shawn Mullins: Soul's Core, Pat Benatar: Heartbreaker, Temple Of The Dog, Soul Asylum: Grave Dancer's Union, John Mellencamp: Dance Naked, Sixpence None The Richer, Barry White: All-Time Greatest Hits, and Dada: Puzzle. There is no teevee at the log cabin. You live on music and antics sandwiched between boating, fishing, swimming, and digging the beauty of the lake..
Shortly after Green Bay, somewhere in the dark night we find a BP. Billy needs to pee. Men always need to pee a lot on road trips. If you travel with girls you can drive forever just like Thelma & Louise.
Brrrrrrr…it's cold up here. I put on my yellow Fort Collins sweatshirt; Billy dons a beige Lake Michigan Yacht Club jacket. He's cute!
There I am bent down looking at the nutritional labels on the trail mix and I hear, "Hey dude!" It sounds just like my brother. I stand up and Jim and Billy are hugging. What are the chances that we both would stop at the same obscure gas station at the same time?????!!!!! Wow!
On the way out of the parking lot my brother pulls up beside me, I roll down my window and he tosses in a walkie-talkie. "Sis, your on." The remaining two hours consists of mad adlibs between my bro and I. We do rap, poems, nonsense, a patter. He's so inventive, on-the spot. Billy asks how we do that. It's from the beginning of time.
About 11:30 we pull up into the long drive. It is very cold, about 45 degrees. The fireplace has a sign: Flue Closed. We don't know if we can use it or not. Brrrrrrrrrr. Billy lay on top of me, please.
I awoke early, 7. We are the first at the cabin this year and mustiness lingers in the air. I'm feeling sickish. Four sweatshirts aren't enough. The billowing black clouds rumble and the rain begins. This sucks. I brought my camera all plugged with chrome film. I need sunlight to capture pics for the Polaroid Transfers I plan to do. My friend Teach, a man from Maine, is holding my hand through the process via email. His latest assignment is for me to listen to George Harrison play the slide guitar. I wonder if I will be graded at the end of this summer session?
After a call to Gram Claybourne we get the fire going and Yippee! The cabin is warm.
Time for a larder run into Iron Mountain and a stop at the 24/7 honor-system bait shop. Back at he cabin the men head for the lake to go fishing. Me too. OMG! They bought leeches! I want to touch one but I am afraid. I know they are parasitic, bloodsuckers used in medieval bloodletting practices. What if you can't dislodge it? They tell me not to be afraid. I want to touch one. Let it suck my blood. Remember "Alien?" What if it crawls inside of me? After watching one suck their hands, I give up. I can't do it.
I commence with fishing. It's fun but everyone is laughing at me and Jim calls me Curly from the "Three Stooges." Argh. I get benched after three tries. No fair. My dad would say, "You can stay home with your mother." Whenever I asked to go fishing. I made too much noise.
I climbed back up the hill and promptly climbed into bed. Everyone else was up and showering at 10. They had 3 hours on me. Lucky dogs.
When I woke up from my nap and went back down to the lake, the men had stringers full of the most gorgeous fish…sunfish, bass, blue-gills, and some others we didn't know the names of. Fish dinner tomorrow! Please, please, please…NO BONES! If you get a bone stuck in your throat you need to take a piece of bread, ball it up, minus the crust, and eat it without too much chewing. That will dislodge the bone so you don't choke to death.
Sssh. People are asleep downstairs and up in the loft. Billy made a huge fire and we are listening to "Dance Naked." and cuddling on the couch. Nice song. Naughty. Saturday. Who the hell mows a lawn at 6:30 a.m. up in the north woods? Some dumber next door. Yesterday when I was down at the car I saw a pack of old men through the clearing. GO TO BED!!!!!!!
Uncle Teddy arrived right when we were sitting down to a big breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs, English muffins, and fresh fruit. He said he startled a black bear on his walk over. It was the first one he ever saw. The bear was frightened, made a howl and ran like hell.
The sun did peek out now and then throughout the day and the temp would rise about 10 degrees. Surprise! Flies, gigantic hairy flies buzzed our heads, specifically our hair. Now I'm not talking about one or two or even three. I'm saying 40 or 50 per person head. As soon as the temp cooled they would disappear. Later on we found out that they are "friendly flies" released by some government agency to eat the gypsy moth larva. Supposedly they are to live for a mere two weeks. Right. What about reproduction! which I would guess would happen around day 11? Man vs. Nature. We never learn that introducing a foreign species never works. It upsets the balance. The giant life cycle wheel…cat eats bird eats worm…thing spins out of control. Let M.N. take care of things. One good example happened a few years ago. I awoke to a brilliant spring morning, looked out my kitchen window and saw about 60 mourning doves on the limbs of the ancient elm tree in my backyard. I adore their sorrowful coo. Ping! Ping! Ping! Sharp-shinned hawks came in and took them out one-by-one. The six or so clever doves escaped the tyranny and spent the summer. The balance had tipped and M.N. sent in the hawk hitsquad. Enough ranting…tra la.
On the way back from the bait place Jim and I were dropped off at Chipmunk Hill. Since I got sick my brother has vowed to make me walk whenever he sees me. Go ahead. Bring it on. We each have a dog and off we go. How many hills are there? Back home I do the track and walk along the sandy shore of the river but this is MUCH more. We ran into two deer, found an exquisite turkey feather (It's now in Jim's hat.) and we took long, downed tree limbs and placed them into a teepee configuration to mark spots where we both found cool rocks (iron stained blue) to pick up later in the Navigator. Jim guessed the walk was 2.3 miles. Later we checked the mileage on the car…5.6. You dog.
Our big fish dinner was a bust. Something..a bear? A muskrat? A northern? A muskie? Had chewed all of the stringer fish in half. (This event inspired a new Devilfish series.) Billy made veggie pilaf and chicken breasts marinated in Chablis and lemon thyme.
Later we played "Malarkey" a card game where you ask a question and make up an answer and everyone has to guess if you are right or just blowing smoke. i.e.: Where does the word berserk come from? My answer: It is a word of German origin. During the Middle Ages in a town named Berserkia the annual rye crop developed a disease known as ergot. When ergot is consumed by people via home-baked bread, they suffer from diarrhea, delirium, and hallucinations. They go berserk. Three people agreed with me. Haha! The REAL answer was that it came from a group of soldiers called Berserks. The bloody destruction they wrecked was termed berserk as in stark raving madmen. The game was so much fun that at one point I had to go out on the deck because my stomach hurt from laughing so much. Guess why 7-Up is called 7-Up? (Answer at bottom.)
Other highlights:
We encountered a deer eating something in the middle of the gravel road. It did not move when we approached. I honked…nothing. I open and slammed the door…nothing. I slowly drove forward and the deer made a move like it was going to charge us. Finally I honked really loud and it bounded off. I know the woods are his home. Still. Janie found a pinecone in the middle of her made-up bed. We made up stories about a spy squirrel that lived in the walls. Janie was not amused.
Saturday night we had our fireworks show. Since we didn't want to litter up the lake (like we did last time) we decided to do them on the road. It was the BEST show. If you have access to the New York Barrage and the mortar with ten different balls, go for it. They are like real fireworks displays. You know I never realized that fireworks sound like war. The 4th is about celebrating FREEDOM and war gives us freedom.
Sunday evening we went over to the range to shoot targets and on the first shot an opossum (who must have been sleeping away doing that tail-hang thing) fell out of the tree, screeched at us and zipped away. Eek!
Uncle Dennis came over and took us to see Uncle Wes' house now that it's finished. It's very contemporary, California designer. Quite beautiful, airy, it seems to float in the clouds and has a great view from every window and deck. Remember that photograph I did of the storm sky when I was up last time? Well I framed it and gave it to them as a thank-you and now it sits right on the marble mantle of their new cottage!
The ride home was an easy 7 hours. Why do sooooo many old men ride Harley's? Put your glasses on so you stay on your side of the yellow line.
Seven ingredients. (Too easy!)
