Ah, the end is the beginning.  If you have followed this Blog from beginning to end, then you know that you must start at the bottom and work your way up.  It can seem like an endless climb, but when you make it to this point then you know that you have completed reading my story of a 25 day trip into the northern midwest to places I have never seen and other places that I have seen often.  I enjoyed the journey and I enjoyed telling it with photos and narratives.  Thanks for reading it.

Introduction
I have decided to post these stories under a separate posting from the rather lengthy posting of my two weeks in Madison, Wisconsin.  Remember my story about Peggy Sue's Cafe from the first ten days of this adventure?  When I was in Madison, I had several random interactions that added to my rich and satisfying two week stay.  It is important that you read what proceeds this post, because I will be making references to items that I have written about earlier.  

It is amazing how these conversations begin:  
 "Will you take a photo of us?"  
"What did you think of the place advertised on your tee shirt?"  "I am going there soon."
"You know, I use to play baseball at this park when I was a kid."   "So did I."
"Hi, may name is Jay Voss, and I used to live in this house when I was growing up."

I hope that you find these encounters as intriguing as I did.

Tom and Stephanie
Following the Art Fair on Capital Square on July 11, Ann, Sally, and I stopped at quaint little boutique coffee and wine shop on Lakeside Street in Madison.  Ann had been here before because the former owners had included the selling of yarn as an incentive to stop and have a cup of coffee or yarn.  It is a small, unassuming building from the outside, but when you enter through the doors, you are greeted with a wine bar settled in the midst of rich, dark wood and furnishings.  The coffee bar with a sandwich menu is in the back where the place where many students chose to hammer away on their laptops and explore the internet.  There is a side door leading on to a pleasant deck that provides a limited tree framed view of Lake Monona.  We chose to purchase a glass of wine and found a comfortable table on the deck.  At some point, I started to take a few photos of Ann and Sally.  The couple sitting next to us offered to take a photo of all three of us.  We said yes, and soon we were engaged in an interesting conversation with our new acquaintances, Tom and Stephanie.  Somehow are conversation drifted toward the philosophical and Tom was telling us about a book he had just finished focusing on the the theories of thinking of Clare Graves who developed an interesting approach to thinking and problem solving in the 1950s.  He was a contemporary of Abraham Maslow who developed a hierarchal theory of human motivation and Lawrence Kohlberg, known for the stages of moral development.  These latter theories, I had studied early on in my preparation for the teaching profession.  As Tom began to talk about Graves' Theory, I began to wonder if he was a professor at the UW.  After all, he had that professorial look; he was enjoying an afternoon with his wife at this comfortable gem of a wine bar, and he was quite articulate.  So I asked Tom, what he did for a living.  I was intrigued  when he said that he and Stephanie owned their own real estate company located not too far from Capital Square and that they had been residents of Madison for some time.  In fact, Stephanie was born and raised in Madison.  This story is already getting too long, but I was inspired to look up Clare Graves and his theory following this serendipitous meeting.  I am not qualified to say anything about the theory, but I found an interesting chart that offered a comparison of this theory with several other theories on why men and women behave the way they do.  I considered adding the chart to the blog, but since I could not begin to explain the comparison, I have chosen to give you the website reference instead.  Website:  http://www.integratedsociopsychology.net/comparison_map.html

As part of the conversation, we also talked about locations in Madison that had meaning for us and Stephanie had much to say about her history and experiences in Madison.  It is hard to quantify the significance of meetings like this and others I have had on the trip, but I find them as unexpected pleasures that enhanced my trip significantly. It all started with a request for a photo.

Haley of Victor Allen's Coffee Shop on Monroe Street
I think it was the second day, I went to Victor Allen's,  my coffee shop of choice on Monroe Street.  There are several on this terrific street in Madison, which has developed its own unique and attractive culture since the years when I use to ride my bike down to get my haircut at Art's Barber Shop or stop at Rennebohm's Drug Store for a cherry coke at the fountain.  

On this day, I approached the barista to order a cup of coffee and a bagel.  Her name is Haley and she wasted little time asking me about Mackinac Island advertised on the front of my tee shirt.  She said she was going to spend some time there in the near future and wondered what it was like.  This was connection number one.  I proceeded to tell her about my visit there and the enjoyable bike ride I took on the island.  I asked her if she was in college?  She said she had just graduated from high school and was going to attend the UW.  A second connection.  I asked her where she went to High School?  She said Edgewood and now there was a third connection.  At some point, she told me she spent the first 9 or 10 years of her life in western CT, a fourth connection.  She has grandparents in Thomaston and Wilton and lived in Waterbury through Grade 4 when her dad took a job in Madison.  I hope I have all those facts right, but she told me was going to be in Connecticut soon to visit her grandparents.  

Haley, perhaps we will meet on the streets of Danbury or you could try out the Starbuck's in New Fairfield.  At any rate, Haley welcomed me with her great smile many of the subsequent mornings that I stopped at Victor Allen's during the rest of my stay in Madison.  Who would have thought that a bright colored tee shirt with logo could start a conversation.  I will probably never see Haley again, but she is now one of the treasured serendipitous stories I encountered on my trip.

Joe and His Dog on a Walk in Wingra Park
On one of those days when I was sitting and observing activities at Wingra Park, my reverie was interrupted by a dog that ran by my comfortable park bench and sort of surprised me.  When I looked in the direction from where the dog came, I saw a man who looked about my age carrying a leash for the dog.  He walked up the knoll where the bench was located.  We exchanged hellos and he started down the the other side of the knoll.  One of us, I cannot remember who, remarked about how nice the park was.  I told him that I was surprised at how many different activities were happening in the park at that very moment. I said that I used to play a lot of baseball in this park when I was a kid.  He told me his name was Joe K. and I recognized the last name.  He had graduated from Edgewood High School in 1959, I in 1961.  We knew many of the same people and  recalled some of the old ball teams like Sweeney's Shamrocks and the Cuba Club that graced the playing fields at this park so many years ago.  We also shared some information about people we knew in common at Edgewood.  I asked if I could take his photo and told him about this blog. Hope he gets a chance to look at.  I wish I had captured a picture of his dog, but I missed the boat there.  This encounter lasted about five minutes, but it was one more case on this trip when I was lifted up by an unexpected meeting with someone just passing by.

Theresa and Brian of Euclid Ave.

This last story may take a bit longer to tell.  It started with my attendance at 8:00 AM Mass at Our Lady Queen of Peace Catholic Church located just a block away from the home where I spent 17 of the first 24 years of my life.  I love returning to this Church of my youth.  I have found that the culture of the Church has developed into a people centered community supporting the kind of openness inspired by the current Pope, Francis.  Its first iteration was constructed in the 1950s and I served many weekdays,  Sundays and holy days on the altar.  In recent years, they renovated the Church by moving the altar from what is today the back of the Church to what is today the front of the church.  My Mom attended this Church all the years that she lived in Westmorland.  She experienced the structural and cultural changes over time and was not reticent about commenting on the changes.  Her funeral was at this Church back in the winter of 2002.  Ironically, she had spent many years singing in the Funeral Choir at the Church.  I have included a photo of the inside of the Church and a photo of Fr. Nolan who said Mass.  It is a contemporary architecture, perhaps ahead of its time in the 50s, but now perhaps fitting the definition of classic contemporary, if such a designation exists.  

So, on this particular, day Mass ended and I walked out to the parking lot.  I decided to drive by my former home just to see if anyone was outside.  In recent visits to Madison, I have always driven by the house a few times, but have never had the courage to go up to the door and introduce myself.  This morning, I saw that the front door was open and because this is the trip where my goal is to initiate conversations with people I have never met, I decided to turn the car around and go back and knock on the door.  As I pulled up, Brian E. was leaving the house on his way to Church.  I walked up to him and introduced myself and said that I had lived in this house for 17 years.  He was very pleasant, but needed to be on his way.  He told me his wife would be happy to talk with me. 

As we were chatting, his wife, Theresa came running out of the house and asked if I was a Voss?  I said yes, and she went on to tell me that they were hoping to meet me or my sister, Lynn, someday.  She told me stories about when they bought the house from my Mom, and how gracious she was to them.  She invited me in and gave me the grand tour and described in great detail what they had remodeled and what they had not changed.  The kitchen was different, but the living, dining, and what my family called, the "Back Room," looked pretty much the same.  She told me that they used the fire place, something we never did in my 17 years of living there.  I was able to see my bedroom and the rest of the upstairs, including my parents' and sister's room.  They had expanded the rather small upstairs bathroom to be a bit larger by borrowing space from my sister's room.  However, the changes still left the majority of the second floor looking as it did when we lived there. 

She showed me the basement where my Dad had done some tiling and painting, a room where our family played a lot of ping pong and where I would sing along with Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison to the 45 records playing on my small record player.  Theresa and Brian had turned the basement into a "Man Cave" dedicated to the Green Bay Packers.  Theresa told me that when they put up the new wall they wrote my Mom's name on the original wall.  She related to me a number of stories that day about my Mom and how much she meant to them when they moved in over 20 years ago.  We took photos in front of the fire place and outside in front of the house.  


It was a thrilling beginning to my last Sunday in Madison.  My sister, Lynn, her husband, Paul, and I joined our cousin Paula for breakfast at the "Egg and I" where I shared the story of this wonderful morning with all of them.  It was a day of family heritage.  Paula has done a lot of work tracing the genealogy of our family, and she gave me some print outs about the Voss and Kunz family that added to the family remembrance of this morning.  I cannot tell you what a thrill all of this was.

Introduction
(Note:  I tried very hard to keep up with my photo sessions and related experiences in Madison, but it was impossible to post everything.  I have decided to post what is ready and indicate as "Works in Progress" other postings soon to come.  Thanks for your patience.)

On the morning of the 11th day of my journey I went to Mass at St. Joseph's Parish in Baraboo where my high school friend, Fr. Jay Poster is currently pastor.  Jay and I went out for a quick breakfast on the main street of Baraboo.  I followed my visit with Jay with a stop at Devil's Lake on my way south to Madison.  In the first portfolio below are a few photos from this latest of my frequent visits to this glacier created Iake.  Once on I got to Madison, I just took the rest of the day to settle in.   My friend, Sally, and I went to Lombardino's that first evening to have a great Italian meal and revisit a place that was a frequent gathering place after high school dances.  Today, it is an upscale Italian Restaurant with different owners, but with much of the Italian artifacts and murals that made it an attractive place over 50 years ago.

I have been to Madison, Wisconsin quite often in the last five years.  Last year's trip is documented in the Travel Section of this Website.  It is not my intention in this section of the trip to develop longer narratives similar to the first ten days of my journey.  Rather, my goal is to share with a variety of photos organized around experiences or events that have occurred during my current stay in Madison.  Some of the portfolios may represent multi day experiences, for example, items of interest on the several bike rides I have taken during my stay.  In other cases, the portfolio will document a particular place and time, for example the Olbrich Gardens Concert on Tuesday, July 14.  If there are small stories to share that occurred at an event, I will try relate them to you without a rambling cacophony of words.  Madison is the place I grew up in and I love coming back here for visits, particularly at the this time of my life. There may be some repetition of earlier visits, but this visit should stand on its own. 


I choose to stay in the Countryside Apts. during my extended stays in Madison because their short term economical lease arrangements give me a two bedroom apartment for lots of space and the possibility of entertaining guests.   I came here to visit my friends Ann, Sally, Jerry, and Marsha.  Jerry and Marsha were on a trip the first half of my Madison stay, but we were all together on several occasions during the second half of the visit.  I have already mentioned Fr. Jay from my earlier life in Madison.  Add to that, coffee with my high school friend Pat--we are still friends-- where we brought each other up to date on the story of our lives and shared some thoughts about photography.  She does wonderful work with the camera and it was  fun to spend a few moments sharing our common interests.  

There are a few of those serendipitous acquaintances that continued to happen while still in Madison.  There were Tom and Stephanie from the little Wine Bar on Lakeside Ave, or another person from the past, Joe, who I met on a walk in Wingra Park.  And then, there is Haley from Victor Allen's.  There is even a warm encounter with the family that bought my Mom's home on Euclid Ave. twenty years ago.  I will relate a few of these unplanned encounters in the "Serendipity" portfolio below.

I have continued to shoot photos in Madison on a daily basis, so the effort of preparing them for this Blog has not stopped.  Thankfully, I find myself writing less, although you may be beginning to wonder about the veracity of that statement.  Hopefully the photos below with a few captions added here and there will give the flavor of this fourth visit to Madison in the last five years.

Devils Lake near Baraboo, Wisconsin
Wikipedia provides a brief summary of the origin of Devil's Lake:
Devil's Lake was originally a gorge of the Wisconsin River prior to the last ice age. At what is now the southern end of the lake, the river turned from a southerly direction to an easterly direction. During the ice age, a lobe of the glacier passed to the east of the Baraboo Hills and came up the river valley. It deposited materials and then melted, leaving a terminal moraine blocking the river, forming an earthen dam.[2] Another moraine was deposited at the north end of the lake. The river eventually found a new course to the east of the Baraboo Hills, where the glacier had been, leaving a portion of the river gorge between the moraines filled with water. This body of water is Devil's Lake.

References[edit]

1. Jump up ^ Gannett, Henry (1905). The Origin of Certain Place Names in the United States. Govt. Print. Off. p. 105.
2. Jump up ^ A Geologic Tour of the Baraboo Ranges and Devil's Lake Gorge

• Lange, Kenneth I. (1989), Ancient Rocks and Vanished Glaciers: A Natural History of Devil's Lake State Park, Wisconsin; Stevens Point, Wisconsin: Worzalla Publishing Company.

I have spent time here over the years picnicking, swimming, traversing the lake in some sort of person propelled vehicle, or even walking its shoreline hiking paths.  If I am in the vicinity of the State Park when I am in Wisconsin, I will try to stop there.  This particular pleasant, sunny, morning, on my way to Madison, I decided to stop an enjoy the scenery one more time.  Much to my delight, a portion of the park's funding comes from the federal government's park system, so I was able to use my lifetime Senior National Park Pass.  Here are s scenes from that short visit.  It is a lake that provides many recreational opportunities. By the way, I did ride my bike for awhile during my visit.

The Countryside Apts:  Home for Two Weeks in Madison 
Four years ago, I found the Countryside Apts. on line when I searched for short term lease opportunities in Madison.  I have stayed there three times now and enjoyed each rental.  This year, I rented a two bedroom apartment for around $900 for the two weeks.  That beats any motel I could fine, and the space in the rental provided me with a place to work on this Blog, make my own meals, invite others over for meals, and invite my sister and brother-in-law to stay in the second bedroom for a short visit.  The grounds are beautiful, the pool is well maintained and offers an enjoyable place to sit either in the sun or the shade.  There are plants and flowers on the property and the lawn is well groomed.  Atef and Sam are the two gentlemen who keep the grounds looking so good.  I enjoy spending extended time in Madison on an annual basis.  Countryside provides me with an affordable, spacious home away from home.  Bike trails are nearby, downtown Madison is a mere 10 minutes from my door; and if my desire is to travel on to the highways and byways of Wisconsin, the Beltline leading to those destinations is just a minute from my door.

Friday Evening on the Union Terrace: July 10
The University of Wisconsin Union Terrace at the base of Langdon Street is a great place for people of all ages to gather on a Friday afternoon to listen to some music, experience the ambiance of a vibrant college atmosphere, and to hang out with friends and families.  Here are few shots of what a couple of hours at the Union Terrace means to a visitor and UW alumni.

Annual Art Fair on Capital Square: July 11
It is one thing to visit the Capital Square Farmers' Market on a Saturday morning in July, but when it is moved off the square for a Saturday to make room for a two day juried Art Fair, then you know the place will be rocking with observers, artists and craftsmen, buyers, and interested or not so interested bystanders, and those just looking for another downtown social event in Madison on a summer weekend.  The photos taken here represent just a flavor of what the Art Fair was like.  I experimented with some black and white images of interesting faces that I found in the crowd.  The juried fair on the square was for worldwide artists.  The other juried Art Fair just off the square heading toward Monona Terrace and Lake Monona was for Wisconsin artists only.  For this particular "lover" of the arts, it was way too much.  While my friends, Ann and Sally, stopped and chatted with various artists and craftsmen, I tended to stay in the background with my camera, often just looking for a place to sit and relax my aching feet.  However, I did manage to purchase a couple of glass items for Gina and Joe, which they liked when I gave the pieces to them on my return to Connecticut.   After the Art Fair, Ann took us to the little Wine and Coffee shop on Lakeside Ave. where we enjoyed a pleasant glass of wine and a place to rest our feet with the view of Lake Monona in the distance.

Bike Rides in Madison:  Various Dates
I rode my bike six times in or around Madison during my two week stay.  The bike trails in Madison are second to none and I tried to vary my rides.  However, bike trails intersect and sometimes you end up with similar scenes.  I could have taken many more photos on these rides but I decided to document each of my rides with just few photos in favor of a more rigorous workout on the bike.  You will find that Bike Rides1-4 do a pretty good job of showing you the attributes of Madison, WI.  In particular, Bike Ride 4 gives you a good look at the UW campus and Lake Mendota shore trail.

On Monday, July 20, Ann and I went on what for me was my 5th bike ride in the Madison area.  I did not take many photos.  We started at a little village south of Madison and rode for about 7 miles on the Military Ridge Bike Trail to Mt. Horeb where we  stopped and had a cup of coffee in Fink's Cafe and talked about family and life.  It looked like rain and perhaps a thunderstorm when we left the cafe, so we rode hard and fast back to our car.  We felt a few drops, but nothing of great consequence followed.  Ann and I enjoyed a pleasant lunch at a little coffee and sandwich shop in Verona before heading back to Madison.

I had invited my Badgerino friends (Sally, Ann, Jerry, and Marsha) over for a farewell dinner on Tuesday, July 21.  In the morning, I prepared the meat lasagna, which would serve as the main course for the evening get together.  I had made an Italian salad dressing from scratch the night before.  I owe a thanks to Ree Drummand on the Food Network for both recipes.  I decided to go on a final bike ride before making the tossed salad and doing the final preparations for my guests.  I chose to go on another path that I had traveled before, but not this time in Madison.   It is called the Capital City Trail and has some challenging ups and downs that provided me with a great cardiac workout.  My goal was to ride and not take photos, but I did catch a few bike riders while relaxing at the end of my trip at the bike rest stop near Fitchburg, WI.  It was my starting point for my second bike ride documented previously in this section.

I rode my bike a total of 10 times over the 25 days that I was on the road.  I believe that I had only taken two or three bike rides in CT before I left on this trip.  As many of the photos depict, I saw much of Madison on these small excursions and enjoyed the experience very much. 

Concert in Olbrich Park, July 14: Whiskey Farm Band
My friends, affectionately known as the Badgerinos, a name self dubbed by our fivesome on a  trip to Italy in 2013 where we first met, attended a concert in one of the true gifts in the Madison area, the Olbrich Botanical Gardens.  It is a magnificent place to walk, reflect, and enjoy the beauties of nature within the hustle and bustle of surrounding communities.  Here are some photos from that concert.

The Mallards and the Duck Blind: July 17
Brad and Ann Larson treated us to a night at the Duck Blind where the Mallards of the Summer College Baseball League play their games.  We had special tickets in the Duck Blind where the inhabitants mostly eat and drink the refreshments that come with the ticket (all you can eat and drink) while discussing the issues of the day and rarely watching the game.  It was a lot of fun.  We arrived after the first game of a doubleheader (makeup for the rained out game the previous night) started and left just after the seventh inning of the second game.  In between, we ate, drank, watched the people, and I even took a few photos of the game and of Maynard the Mallard mascot as he traversed the 180 foot zip line.  Maynard's photos are a bit grainy; but then, so was he.  We had a grand old time at the ball park, but I left convinced that the Duck Blind was more a social event than a place to watch the local baseball team.

Paddle and Portage, An Annual Event of Physical Exertion in Madison: July 18
My original intent was to go to James Madison Park around 9 AM to catch the beginning of the Portage and Paddle competition, an event I had never witnessed before.  This competition demands a great deal from the participants, but they appear to have great fun, since the intent of most of the participants is only to finish, not to win.  The officials of the event organize the participants in to various starting groups based on perceived competency.  The "Paddle" part begins on Lake Mendota for about a 1.5 miles, then becomes a portage of the boat, regardless of style, up to Capital Square and down to the shores of Lake Monona near Monona Terrace and concludes with another paddle across Lake Monona to Olin Park and the Finish Line.  The photos below attempt to tell the story of the various stages of the Paddle and Portage Competition.  You will note that many of the participants dress up in costumes as part of the facilities.  Group A began the competition with those folks that really new what they were doing and had the best equipment for moving through the water and placing a lighter burden on the shoulders of the portage during the up to Capital Square and down the hill to Lake Monona.  I will add some captions when it is important, but I hope the photos give the true flavor of this fun event in downtown Madison on a warm, sunny day in July, 2015.

Pride and Prejudice at the American Players Theater: July 18
Sally was the instigator of this event on my calendar of special events in Madison.  After enjoying a delicious dinner of grilled steaks and salad at Sally' place, Ann, Sally, and I drove to Spring Green, famous for accommodating Frank Lloyd Wright's spectacular home and grounds known as Taliesin East.  On the crest of hill along the Wisconsin River just outside of Spring Green is the American Players' Theater, an outdoor drama center that is the home of a marvelous repertoire company called, you guessed it, The American Players Acting Company.  Tonight, they performed a captivating performance of Pride and Prejudice, adapted from the novel by Jane Addams that we all know and remember from our high school and college years.  It was a warm Wisconsin evening, but the actors decked out in their period costumes dealt with the heat of the night and the lights and told a great story of finding love between Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.  I was not permitted to take photos during the performance even without the use of a flash.  However, I have provided a few photos of the venue and of the faces that were present that evening in the audience.  I tried sneak a forbidden photo, but alas the theater gods intervened with a blurring effect.

It was another early morning departure for me as I left the Hyatt Regency and beat the traffic out of town  and began my trip down the western shore of the Mississippi River toward Winona, MN.  About half way into the trip, my lack of sleep the previous night and early morning rising caused me to feel sleepy behind the wheel.   After spending some moments drinking water and trying to force my eyes to stay open, I saw a sign for a state park 1 mile ahead.  I pulled into the parking lot and that is where I met Maureen.  She pulled into the parking lot just after me and we were the only two cars.  i asked her if I could get a good view of the river from this point.  She told me that she was going for a hike, but the overlook and state park were down the road and there was a fee for getting into the park.  Before we knew it  we had struck up another one of those random conversations that filled the next 30 minutes of my life with stories about our common use of the camera, another quick summary of my trip and where I was headed, and an invitation to hike down the path just at the side of the parking lot, which she thought might end up at the river, but was not sure.  Well early, on we turned back because the path was quite muddy from the rains.  We talked for a while longer.  I took her photo, told her about putting this little story on the website, and gave her my email and website addresses after searching without success through my various stuff to find my homemade "business cards."  She drove into the park and I drove back to the highway much more awake than when I stopped because of the unplanned encounter with Maureen.  Later in the day, she emailed me several nice photos of what she saw in the park that day.  She had already taken a look at the website and said some complimentary things about it.  I sent her a photo of the bald eagle that I had taken on my Apostle Island cruise and thanked her for our serendipitous meeting.

After reaffirming my goal of engaging with people that I do not know, I moved on to the next objective for the day, which was to visit St. Mary's College where I went to school the first year out of high school.  in those days, it was a men's college run by the Christian Brothers.  Today, it is still a Christian Brothers' Institution, but is coed and has become a university with many new buildings nestled in among the old and familiar ones.  I arrived around 10:00 AM, found the main receptionist, Johanna, told her that I was a former student for one year, and would like to walk around the campus.  She said fine.  I spent the next 45 minutes or so walking the entire campus, taking photos of places remembered and photos of new facilities never enjoyed in my day.  I wanted to take a photo of the famous rock that juts out of one of the scenic bluffs that surround the south side of the campus, but the rock, still an avid destination point for college hikers was hidden behind the greenery on this pleasant summer day.  The rock at St. Mary's is still one of my three favorite places I list when asked on silly surveys, "What are your three favorite places?"  I spent hours sitting on the edge of the rock contemplating how I should spend my life beyond the first nineteen.  It is there where I concluded that I would leave St. Mary's at the end of my first year and enter a diocesan seminary for training to become a priest.  The next year would be spent at Holy Cross Seminary in LaCrosse, WI located on a backwash of the Mississippi River about 30 miles south of Winona.  You might guess that was the next destination on this day's journey and you would be right.

However, there is more to tell about St. Mary's.  I receive numerous invitations from the St. Mary's Alumni Office to donate to the cause.  I have several places for annual donations and St. Mary's is not one of them.  My thought in stopping was to consider leaving a small donation to the School of Education if I felt so inclined at the end of my walk around the campus.  I decided to take a walk through St. Mary's Hall, the original building on the campus.  I thought I had seen enough several times, but I continued to explore the building including a beautiful area where the president's office resides.  It was there that I encountered Megan and engaged her in conversation about the fact that I was a former student and just stopping by to see how the place had changed.  I mentioned my places that had memories for me, and some of the brothers who were my professors in those days, including one of my favorites, Brother Francis, who used to play football with us.  He was the Dean of Students who made my first days away from home less threatening because of his gracious welcoming attitude toward the new freshmen arriving on campus.  He passed away a short time ago.  Megan and I talked for a few more minutes before we were joined by Audrey,  another person from the alumni office who was also a professor.  I rambled on some more about current travels,  how much I enjoyed my single year at St. Mary's some 43 years earlier, and the changes that had taken place on campus, including the impressive Page Performing Arts building.  We talked for almost a half an hour.  I took their photo at the end and told them about the Website, still having no "business card" to give them.  They gave me two great hugs and I was off with another great episode to tell in my quest to  engage complete strangers in conversation.

Just about 30 miles to the south of Winona and across the Mississippi is the town of LaCrosse, Wisconsin where I spent the 1962-63 school year in the diocesan seminary of Holy Cross.  It is no longer a seminary, but rather the location of Catholic Charities for the LaCrosse Diocese and is the home for some other uses for the Catholic church in this fair city. I knew all of this, but I wanted to spend a few moments visiting this place for the first time in 42 years to see what had changed.  Well, the property no longer was fronted by Hwy. 14 as it was in those days.  Instead there were multiple businesses located on the property where I used to play touch football with my seminary colleagues.  There was still the impressive looking building where I lived in separation from most of the daily life going on beyond the seminary confines.  However, there was the bowling alley across the street where we could go bowling and have a few beers on Wednesday afternoons, but I could not find it.    We were not cloistered in anyway, but my year at the seminary was a year long retreat where I could consider whether a priestly vocation was mine or not.  My Dad died several weeks after I began my studies there and that was devastating for me.  However, I spent the rest of the year at the seminary and to this day, do not regret it.  It was a year of reading and reflection.  There was an old dilapidated boat house located in the backwater marshes of the Mississippi just behind the seminary.  I wanted to see  if it was still there.  Believe it or not, the boat house is another of my three most favorite places.

I really had no interest in looking at the inside of the old seminary building, so I started toward the back wash.  I ran into Bishop Callahan, the current Bishop of LaCrosse, crossing the grounds on his way to his home, I presume for lunch.  We had a short conversation about the seminary, Bishop Tracy of days gone by, and the current uses of the building.  It was a short visit, but at time when I am finding serendipity everywhere, it kind of fit into the scheme of this particular day of remembrance.  I walked down a culvert, somewhat overgrown with vegetation and found no boat house.  Just to the right of this still environmentally preserved area was a housing development where a forest of trees once reigned.   I was thankful that there were remnants of the backwater and marsh still present (see photos), but quite disappointed that I could not climb one more time on to the roof the boat house where, just like the rock at St. Mary's, I had done so much of my reflective thinking during the transition from my teens into my twenties.  I am glad I stopped, but time moves on and not always in ways that you like.

The photos below show the seminary building and the backwater of the Mississippi as they are today.  I cannot find the past represented fully in these photos, but there is a hint of what it was like to spend my 19th and 20th year on these grounds.

Back to the car and a quick drive through the heart of LaCrosse to pick up I-94 and my next stop for the night in Baraboo, Wisconsin.  I planned to meet my daughter's friend Tiffany and her husband at the High Rock Cafe in downtown Wisconsin Dells and I did.  We had a delightful dinner.  It was the first time meeting Patrick and it was good to get to know him a bit.  Tiffany and I went on to the Del Ray Bar, with Patrick's permission of course, for a drink and a little more conversation.  We ran into a friend of Tiffany's behind the bar who had worked at Disney World for awhile, so we included Gina's experience at Disney as part of the discussion of what is like to work at the park.  The traditional visit with Tiffany that has become a part of my treks back to Wisconsin came to an end and I returned to the Clarion Inn in Baraboo looking forward to heading toward Madison the next day and settling in for a two week stay.  My journey was about to slow down and I was ready for that change.

I pulled out of the Harbor's Edge Motel about 5:30 AM and easily made my way on to Hwy. 13 W with the intent of taking the scenic route to Duluth, MN on my way to I-35 South to Minneapolis.  It did not register with me that I would be traveling through some very rural areas of northern Wisconsin for about 65 miles.  This became a concern when my gauge on the dashboard told me I had about 72 miles before my tank would hit empty.  When I started out, it never occurred to me that finding a gas station early on Sunday morning would be an issue.  Well forget the time of day, the issue was that there was only one gas station between Bayfield and Superior Wisconsin, which thanks to the helpful directions of a jogger, I found the resolution for my thirsty tank in Port Wing.  It was little town on the west side of the Bayfield peninsula deeply involved in its weekend flea market event.  The very pleasant woman who ran the convenience store was delightful and gave me a whole new cup of coffee when I pressed the wrong button on the machine and ended up with a vanilla latte, which if you know me, I cannot drink.  We had a pleasant chat,  and I thanked her for being so happy and helpful so early on a Sunday morning.  As I was leaving the store, I met her husband Dave and I told him about my petroleum concerns.  He looked at my Connecticut plates and engaged me for the first time that day in a conversation with and unknown person about my travels, where I had been and where I was going.  He invited me to stop for awhile in Port Wing for the flea market opening a little later in the morning.  I declined, told him I had to be on my way, but thanked him for the the invitation and the pleasant conversation.  Little did I know that I would have several other random encounters over the next several days that jogged my recollection that one of the goals of this trip was to initiate or engage in more conversations with people whom I do not know.  It is not a behavior that I easily perform.  Driving down the road, I was thankful for the full tank and the rather pleasant opening to my day with two people I will never see again.

My ice green Ford Escape continued merrily down the road passing Duluth, picking up I-35 with a clear destination for the Twin Cities.  With only a cup of coffee consumed since I left Bayfield, thanks to Dave's wife, I decided that I would stop for a larger breakfast about 100 miles north of Minneapolis.  I took the Willow River exit because the blue sign claimed that there was food nearby.  The arrow pointed me to a right turn and I ended up in the little town of Willow River with a railroad track and several older establishments.  The streets were quiet, and I assumed that I was not going to find a place to stop, eat, and rest for awhile.  So I found a place to turn around and that is when I discovered Peggy Sue's Cafe.  It was open, it was local, and I could tell from the cars in the parking lot, a few people were already enjoying the fruits of Peggy Sue's Sunday morning breakfasts. Peggy Sue happens to be one of my favorite Buddy Holly songs,  I was  hungry, and I saw another opportunity to encounter Americana.  I walked in and saw a number of groups having breakfast.  I sat at the empty counter.  Julie, my waitress asked me the usual question about coffee and she gave me a menu.  

I cannot remember how it all started, but Julie and I became engaged in a conversation about my trip when I asked if there was really a Peggy Sue?  She responded by pointing to the kitchen and saying Peggy Sue was the owner and was in the kitchen slinging the hash.  We continued our conversation for a little longer.  My impatience was beginning to show, because it appeared that very little food was coming out of the kitchen for any customers  in the cafe.  Julie asked me if I was in a hurry and I said not really.  She checked, I presume with Peggy Sue, and told me that my order was almost ready.  In the meantime, a couple had walked in and wanted to sit in  a booth.  There were none available.  They stood next to me to wait for the next booth to open.  My recollection is that I asked them if they were from the area and Carma said yes, they had moved to Willow River some ten years ago for their retirement.  Willow River was clearly a summer vacation spot.  There are two lakes close to Willow River with signs for camping nearby.    Later, when I was leaving, I would see the paved bike path that ran parallel to the railroad tracks in the back of the restaurant.  She and her husband Chuck, a retired pastor, had moved to Willow River from LaCrosse, Wisconsin.  I then had this great conversation, mostly with Carma, because Chuck was a quiet soul.  For the next ten minutes we talked about my trip, why they liked Willow River, and other  random topics.  I asked Chuck if he was doing any filling in for vacationing ministers in the area.  He said that he used to, but not so much anymore.  I wish I could remember all the details of the conversation, but Carma's willingness to talk about herself and listen to my ramblings, caused me to forget about the breakfast that Julie had delivered.  I started to eat slowly as I continued to listen to the story of Carma and Chuck. Their booth opened up, I finished my breakfast, and Julie brought me my bill.  

I asked if I could meet Peggy Sue and take her photo?  You have to know that these are not normal behaviors for me.  Julie went into he kitchen, and soon Peggy Sue appeared.  I told her how much I liked her cafe and the delicious breakfast.  I took her photo with my iPhoto camera.  Julie told me that she was Peggy Sue's older sister and earlier, she had told me that Peggy Sue was born the same year that Buddy Holly released the song.    I thanked them for making my morning so pleasant and then walked pass the booth where Carma and Chuck were sitting.  We exchanged a pleasant goodbye.  I took their photo sitting in the booth.    I asked for permission from all of my photo buddies to put the photos on this site and they were OK with it.  This is where I should have given each person a card with my email and url addresses.  Well the homemade cards that I prepared before I left Connecticut were buried deep in one of the bags sitting in my car. I wrote down the information and left Peggy Sue's Cafe for the one and only time I will ever be there.  What a great, uplifting morning driving from Bayfield to Minneapolis, on a clear warm day of summer.  Engaging strangers in conversation can produce some of the great moments on the trip.  As I drove off, I realized that I had given Carma my email address and not the url.  Later, I called Peggy Sue at her cafe and gave her the information.  We had another little chat where I thanked her for the opportunity to have breakfast topped off with pleasant conversations in her neat little place in Willow River.

Gallery:  Photos of Peggy Sue's Cafe

I drove on from Willow River and arrived at the Hyatt Regency in downtown Minneapolis around noon.  I had  plenty of "stuff," including my bike that had to be brought inside.  The hotel attendant told me not to leave anything of value in my car.  So he and his compatriot brought my luggage to my room with little effort.  Believe it or not, I had worried about unloading all of this stuff in the big city compared to all the smaller places I had stayed on the trip, but not to worry.  My iPhone weather App told me that rain was expected on Monday, so if I was going to try out the bike trails of Minneapolis, it would have to be the afternoon of my arrival.  After getting settled, I took my bike for a nice ride through the city to the West River bike trail along the Mississippi.  I have ridden my bike on the railroad bed trails of Connecticut, Cape Cod, and in Madison, but I was not prepared for the great job the Twin Cities have done in making biking a priority form of transportation throughout the busy city.  My Apple Maps led me on the various turns and down the lined bike lanes on the busy streets to the river.  I took my camera with me in hopes of getting some good shots of the river, but the green vegetation that borders the river made clear photos very difficult to find.  I stopped at an old bridge support because there was a limited view of the river and I thought the lines of the support might add some interest to a photo.  I found and older woman edging her way along the rusted metal frame out over the river.  Either her husband or son--could not tell--was lining her up in his camera sights.  I felt relieved, because I wondered if her intentions for crawling out on this structure were for other reasons.  I stopped and took a couple of photos of her with my own camera and rode on.  One of my goals in coming to Minneapolis was to ride to various places that I remembered from my college years on my bike.  The heavy rain on Monday got in the way of more extensive bike riding, but this hour long Sunday afternoon ride gave me a partial sense of accomplishment in meeting the goal.

Gallery: Photos of the Bike Ride and Some Shots of Minneapolis

I was not sure what to do for dinner.  The easiest solution was to eat in the hotel restaurant, which was well reviewed.  However, I decided to take a walk up Nicollet Mall to check out a Pub that I had seen earlier in the day.  Ihad also seen a Jazz Eatery not far from the Pub.  I settled on the Jazz venue because they had some entertainment.  The cover was on the high side for my taste, but I bit the bullet, put down the cash and went inside.  After enjoying a light meal at the bar, I was given a seat facing the stage from the side.
At some point, Terrance and Holly sat down to my left and we struck up one of those spontaneous conversations for about twenty minutes before the concert began.  We talked about Tanglewood in Massachusetts; and I recommended the Red Lion Inn to them, should they ever travel in that direction.  They were life long residents of the twin cities; but we shared some travel stories, including a bit about my adventure across the northern midwest.  It was one more instance where a simple question can engender a pleasant conversation between people who have never met and will never meet again.  It was a nice introduction to the haunting music we were about to hear.

The theater setting in this venue is quite intimate.  People sit at tables arranged in very close proximity to each other.  My sense was that no matter where you sat, you felt in very close contact with the singer.   His name is Vinicius Cantuaria.  His instrument is the acoustic guitar.  His expertise is Brazilian music. His focus for the evening was to recreate the songs of Antonio Carlos Jobim.  I took a few grainy photos of him with my iPhone that hopefully convey an image of how special the mood was that he created it with his guitar and soft, melodic voice giving great expression to the Portuguese lyrics.  I felt the songs regardless of my inability to understand the language.  He sang non-stop and with very little commentary for well over an hour.  It was delightful.  Just like finding the Peggy Sue Cafe earlier in the day, I felt that my random choices were resulting in some of the best moments on my trip.  Here I was at the Dakota Jazz Club and Restaurant by pure chance, enjoying conversation with two new acquaintances and the music of an exceptional talent.  Who cared if it was supposed to rain tomorrow.

Gallery: Dakota Jazz Club and Restaurant

It rained all morning and into the afternoon on the next day.  I worked on this blog for a good part of the morning.  I went out to find some wine and cheese to bring to Steve and Trish who had invited me to their home for dinner Monday evening.  I, of course, did not take an umbrella and suffered the consequences of shopping for these items in a torrential rainfall.  I checked the radar on my iPhone and saw a window of opportunity to hustle back to the hotel in a lighter rainfall.  Those few minutes arrived, and I made a dash for the hotel.  I was wet when I got there, but it could have been worse.  I went for a swim in the beautiful pool where I was the only one enjoying its soothing effects on my rain soaked body.  

The sun came out later in the afternoon, but with a foggy haze that was due to smoke moving south from forest fires in Canada.  I took a drive past Lake Hiawatha and Lake Nakomis in the car rather than on my bike and took a few photos of these two well placed lakes in the middle of Minneapolis.  I crossed one of the several bridges that span the Mississippi River into St. Paul where Steve and Trish have lived for over 40 years.  Although we have exchanged Christmas cards over the years and met for dinner once when they took a trip to New England, we had seen very little of each other over the years.  Steve and I were close friends from early elementary school all the way through college.  I was the best man at their wedding those many years ago.  Steve is struggling with some health issues now which hamper is getting around with ease, but that did not stop us from having a terrific meal prepared by Trish and sharing stories about our families as well as recalling some great moments from our past.  I left about them around 8:30 after a thoroughly enjoyable evening.  It was tough to see my friend Steve facing his own challenges of growing older, but he has a marvelous sense of rye humor that kept the evening light and quite rewarding for me.
It was a very meaningful way to end my short stay in Minneapolis.  The next day, my trusty Ford Escape would face south, heading toward Madison with a few stops along the way.

From Saint Ignace to Bayfield

I left the Boardwalk Inn and Saint Ignace at 5:30 AM and started one of the longer driving stretches on my driving tour.  It was time I headed for  Bayfield, WI on the northeast side of a peninsula that juts out into Lake Superior, the largest and deepest of the Great Lakes.  The drive was uneventful, except for the fact that I saw only 3 vehicles on the two lane road I was traveling during the first 100 miles of my trip.  Although my travels took me along the northern shores of Lake Michigan and the southern shore of Lake Superior, I did not stop for photo shoots.  I arrived in Bayfield at 12:00 PM EDT, but because I crossed the time line when I crossed into Wisconsin, it was only 11.  There was a young man in charge of the registration desk at the Harbor’s Edge Motel and he informed me that I could not check in until 2 PM.  That left me time to drive around and explore where the golf course was and the Big Top Chautauqa Tent where Gaelic Storm would perform Friday evening.  I found Morty’s Pub on the main drag in Bayfield and enjoyed the first of several whitefish based meals.  In this case, it was a sandwich that tasted quite good with a draft of Spotted Cow, one of my favorite Wisconsin beers brewed in New Glarus way to the south of this very northern fishing and tourist town in Wisconsin. 

As instructed, I returned to the motel at the requested time and found a crusty, but gentle older woman manning the desk.  I had her name once, but it escapes me now.  In addition to her crusty ways, she had a fetching sense of humor that created a fun environment for checking in, if such a disposition Is even possible for this mundane event.  This motel is an older structure that looked well preserved from the outside.  It was directly across the harbor from where the Ferry departs for Madeline island all day and every day in warmer seasons.  My registration buddy gave me two keys for Rm. 4 located around the side of the main building and just up the stairs.  Once more I was faced with dragging my belongings up a flight of stairs, but unlike the Boardwalk Inn, it was just one flight.  My heart rate caught a bit of a break this time.  So I get to my room, put the key in the lock and feel great resistance.  The keys (both of them) refused to turn either way.  At first, I thought I had the keys to the wrong room, but such an easy solution was not the case.  When I returned to my crusty friend, she informed me that this door always causes this particular problem. You just have to work key for a few minutes, and it will eventually connect with the insides of the lock that I had now discovered had a mind of its own.  She then informed me that she leaves the office by 8 PM every night and no one can help me if I cannot get the door lock to cooperate.  Being the nervous and glass half empty guy that I am, I conjured up the vision of me sleeping in the car until the crusty older woman (wish I could recall her name) showed up the next morning.  She assured me that it just takes some time for the key to work.  I said, “why doesn’t the owner fix the lock?  She said something to the effect that such a solution would make sense, but the owners were not available on the busiest weekend of the summer.  I am responsible for the last few words of the previous sentence, not my crusty friend.

OK, end of a long story.  I learned how to work the key most times over the next three days, with only one failure on Saturday morning when the housekeeper used her master key to open the door for me in a matter of two seconds.  The tumblers respond well to the master, but not to the serf keys.  With that knowledge, I did not lock my door for the rest of my stay.  I trusted that all my valuables would be there when I returned to the room, and sure enough they were.  Lesson: Do not raise your blood pressure over keys that fail.  However, someone should fix the damn locks.  I use the plural, because the couple in the room next to me had the same problem.

So you ask, “How did the rest of your stay go?”  Actually, it was most enjoyable with a few glitches here and there.  I had booked an evening cruise viewing the Apostle Islands.  The boat left at 5:30 on a three hour cruise passing by numerous islands of trees and rock that the captain said provided various types of lumber resources and stone materials for a variety of industries, including military uses.  To be honest, from the point of view we had from the cruise ship, if you saw one island from the deck of the boat, you saw them all.  However, many of the islands were camping meccas for those unlike myself who were willing to experience the natural beauty of the islands by staying on them.  The only island with permanent residents is Madeline Island, but more on Madeline later.  After almost two hours of wind, spray, rocks and forests, we did come to Devil’s Island with a working and extremely important light house and carved out structures called sea caves (OK, we are on a lake, but Superior sure looks like a sea) that have been shaped over the centuries by the action of the water and winter ice on this malleable sandstone rock.  There are several photos below that display the unique and interesting shapes of these caves.  Unfortunately, there was one small child who screamed and cried quite loudly after spending three hours on a boat with limited access to the world around him.  I felt sorry for his parents  and for him, but the weight of the boat would sometime shift as the passengers attempted to move to other sections of the boat to escape the loud cries of this little guy.  One wonders what possessed the parents to bring a small child on this venture, but for whatever reasons, they added some sound effects to the melodious voice of the captain as he read directly from a manual while driving the boat (At other times, someone else steered while he read).  There was a second captain who spoke sometimes and steered the boat other times, or joined the two female deck hands who switched places every once in awhile between the colder and open upper deck and the enclosed lower deck.  In any event, despite these little anomalies, I am glad that I went on the cruise between and around the Apostle Islands. It gave me some photo opportunities, but more importantly, I could now say that I had sailed a bit on Lake Superior, the topic of many folk songs and stories of shipwrecks I had heard over the years.

When I returned, I went back to Morty’s for the whitefish basket and two Spotted Cows.  After a long day, I returned to my room where it took me five minutes to get the lock to work, but I was happy.  I was not destined this evening at least to sleep in my car.  I wonder if you can imagine what I was feeling when the lock would not turn for minutes and then all of a sudden without warning would release and my I felt like I had won the lottery.  My room, by the way, was fine.  It was large and comfortable.  No complaints about the room.  And no complaints about the location.

Photos from the Apostle Islands

Madeline Island and the Gaelic Storm

The next morning (Friday), I took a chance and locked the door again as I unhinged by bike and wandered across the street to the Ferry for the 8:45 departure to Madeline Island.  Now, you should know Madeline Island is no Mackinac Island.  It is quiet and peaceful and offered me the opportunity for a solid workout on my bike as I did about a 14 mile journey out to the State Park at the center of the island and then returned to the port by an alternative route.  It was a pleasant ride, quite flat, which permitted me to get my heart rate up to a good steady pace.  When I arrived at the park, largely for campers, I was told by the park attendant that I could ride by bike on the paved areas in the park, but that I was welcomed to hike  any trails that I wished.  There was no charge for entry into the park, so I decided to explore whatever part of the park I could on my bike.   I found the lookout point and took some photos there, including some shots of some young campers exploring some of the small cliffs protecting the shoreline from Lake Superior.  I then went on another paved roadway to the small beach in the camping park.  There was no one there, but I found some driftwood with interesting shapes that I thought might work for black and white photos.

I then headed back to the harbor village of La Pointe and went in search of an ice cream cone.  I could not find one.  I should have asked, but did not.  There may have ice cream on Madeline Island, but my inability to stop and ask someone the ice cream question once again limited my exposure to the island.  I returned to Bayfield around noon time and this time went to the Pier Plaza for the Bayfield version of a Philly Cheesesteak, appropriately called the Wisconsin Cheese steak. It was served with homemade potato chips, which I have come to enjoy the few times that I have had them.

I needed a short nap after these morning and noontime experiences.  I was looking forward to seeing Gaelic Storm at the Big Top Chautauqua Tent.  The afternoon went by slowly and about 45 minutes before I was to meet a the Shuttle pick-up, I stopped and had a Spotted Cow and some onion rings at Gruenke's, the ancient restaurant and lodge in the heart of Bayfield.  I felt guilty about ordering one more fried snack, but I discovered I could limit my fried intake by taking a single bite out of the ring and then securing the internal onion in my teeth and pulling it out for the nice sweet onion taste.  Needless to say, my plate looked like I did not eat any of the rings, but I felt good about self control.  I tried to talk with the bartender a little, but was unsuccessful. It was a very busy place.   When the shuttle arrived there were too many of us and so the driver said he would return for the left overs in a few minutes.  Three of us were left and we struck up  a nice conversation.  I had seen this couple on the boat the night before, but now we had a little time to talk.  They were from England, but worked in the Minneapolis area.  I suppose they will go back to England soon, but they spend a lot of time traveling when not working.  This was their first time in Bayfield too.
Our driver returned and left us off at the Big Top Tent in plenty of time.  My seat was in the middle and except for the big fellow in front of me for the first half of the show,  I could see fairly well.  I took many photos with my Canon Camera and although the photos are silent representations of a moment in time in the concert, I hope you get a sense of the energy Gaelic Storm put into its show.   We saw a group of five: Steve Twigger on guitar; Patrick Murphy, accordion, lead singer, and comic; Ryan Lacy on various drums: Peter Purvis on a mean whistle; and Kiana Weber with a vibrant fiddle, a beautiful face, and a graceful ability to transverse the stage engaging with other members of the group.  She reminded me of the fiddle player in the Celtic Women.  There are some solo shots of the group below with identification captions.   It was a fun evening.  They promote genuine crowd participation and communicate a happy and rollicking form of traditional Irish music and more contemporary rock.  I never had to move from my seat to snap my photos.   If I had moved from my seat, I would have been stopped by friendly but tenacious security guards. Staying in one place did not hinder me from taking shots with the terrific zoom capability of my camera.  In addition, I became a participant in the concert by clapping my hands and moving my musically inspired body with the tunes.  Ah, what a sight.  The show ended about 9:30, we caught the first round of shuttles to take us back to Bayfield.  I was in a very good mood and was rewarded with the best night of sleep I have had had on my trip.

Photos of Madeline Island and the Gaelic Storm

Golf and the 4th of July Fireworks

Somewhere in the middle of the concert, I decided to play golf on the scenic Apostle Islands Golf course the next day.  I went early, got on the course immediately and finished in two and half hours.  No one was in front of me or beind me, the whole way.  I played fairly well for me, but the golf tees (we call them senior tees)  were up closer than what I  am use to.  At any rate, I scored around an 86.  I say around because  it was probably higher.  At any rate, I hit some good shorts and captured a few ideas for how to improve this older guy's game in the future.  

Before I went in search of a place for breakfast I returned to my room and for the first time was unable after what seemed a lifetime of trying to get the key to work.  I asked the lady who cleans he rooms, If she could get me in.  She took out her master key and to my chagrin, easily opened the door.  From that moment on, I did not lock my door for the rest of my stay.

Because I was back in Bayfield by 9:45,  I went to breakfast at the Egg Toss.  My Wisconsin Omelet was to die for and if I was a frequent visitor to Bayfield, I would be there often in the early morning.   I tried to do some shopping, but that is a non-motivating activity for me and ended up buying a single tee shirt.  The rest of the day was a rather lazy one.  I sat for awhile on a park bench looking at the harbor and sucking on another ice cream cone.  I went for a walk on the Brownstone Path that borders the Lake for several miles.  I did not follow it all of the way, but I did capture some shots of waters and flowers along the way.  I walked up the rather steep hill to attend Mass at Holy Family Church.  I always like to go to new churches when I travel.  Nothing in the building wowed me, but you could tell that the regulars were a committed congregation.  How does one know?   They sing the hymns.  I went back for another round of whitefish, this time at the Pier Plaza where I chose a glass of red for a change over a glass of beer.  It was 6 PM with almost four hours to go before the fireworks.  I spent some of the time sitting with Bob from Sheybogan, Wisconsin, on the porch of the Harbor's Edge Motel.  His family has been coming to the Harbor's Edge Motel for many years, renting as many as two or three rooms for a visit.  I was suffering from a lack of family on this holiday, even feeling bit of melancholy during my bench sitting at the park earlier in the day.  However, having a nice conversation with Bob and his wife Rue relieved some of those down feelings.  As it grew darker, I moved around shooting scenes of people waiting for the big bangs.  I even tried to capture a group of kayakers approaching the safety border near the barge from where the missiles were about to be launched.   I will probably include a photo of one or two kayakers, though I anticipate grainy results.  Once the fireworks began on a barge just off the Bayfield Harbor Pier, I tried to shoot some stills, but with little success.  I switched to the movie mode and captured a few minutes of the spectacular displays.  It was impressive, particularly because of another fireworks display on Madeline Island in the background.  Bayfield visitors get a good show and they showed their appreciation.  

I was planning an early start for Minneapolis the next day and I had already put some of my stuff in the car. My time in Bayfield was coming to a close, but I felt good about choosing to spend time in this old fishing, but now tourist town of the far Wisconsin north.  I particularly thank my friend Ann in Madison for her enthusiastic recommendation several months ago.  Little did I know that my talk with Bob and Rue had started the process of addressing one of my goals for the trip: To  engage  people I do not know in conversation.  My Sunday drive to Minneapolis was filled with little serendipitous engaging conversations that I will share in the next section. Can you hardly wait?

Bayfield on the 4th:  Note I may be able to post a maximum of 15 seconds of the fireworks on this page, but I have some work to do before I can add the movie to the post.

The Third Day
Sleeping at the Northland Inn did not go well as indicated by my earlier post.  I left the Inn a little after 5 AM and started north on I75  to pick up scenic highway 23 that would lead me along the western shores of Lake Huron all the way to Saint Ignace in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  With a breakfast stop in Tawas and other exploratory stops and detours along the way, I arrived at the Boardwalk Inn and B&B in Saint Ignace at 11:00 AM.  Fortunately, my room was ready, so I had plenty of time to unpack and prepare for a 12:30 departure to Mackinac Island on the ferry located just down the street.

But first, a "brief" narrative of my trip north on Hwy. 23.  Much of the trip, I was able to see the blue waters of Lake Huron just to the right of me.  Early on in the trip, I caught a few sunrise shots, one over the foggy farm fields and another at a scenic view stop for observing Lake Huron.  I had intended on taking a photo of  my breakfast stop (pancakes, sausage, plenty of coffee, and a closeup view of the lake), but in my haste to get back on the road again, I forgot to take a shot of the quaint little place, called Augies on the Bay (https://goo.gl/maps/Tazd5).  The people in the restaurant were friendly and I finally felt like I was sampling the local fare, unlike the previous day at McDonald's and Applebees.  Traffic was very light going north on 23 and so I often made great time.  After seeing that most of the shoreline of Lake Huron was devoid of high cliffs and dramatic shots, I decided to move on to the Presque Isle region on the northeast side of the lower peninsula of Michigan.  There I found the Grand Lake that stretched for miles south to north near Presque Isle.   When I was a kid, I had heard of people from Wisconsin  vacationing there.  For me, it was similar to the terrain in parts of northern Wisconsin.  Forests  surround numerous lakes, just like Lake Huron.  Just north of Long Lake I found one of those rocky, rutted,  road turn offs for a trek into the woods.  The preference would be for hikers, but I ventured on in my trusty and now dusty Ford Escape.  I am not sure how long I followed the trail, but I never met another car or a hiker.  I also soon discovered that turning around and going back could be a challenge on these narrow rocky and rutted roads.  After about five miles or so, I realized that this adventure was going nowhere.  All I could see were tall trees and the rocky, rutted, road.  I thought of my late wife Terry, who if she had physically been with me would have been demanding we turn and find our way back, but alas it was only her spirit contained in the metal image of an angel attached to my visor on the driver's side that kept whispering for me to turn back.  I did not listen to the whispered advice and just kept going thinking that there would a turn around point just down the road.  When I found one, I debated with my self and perhaps my angel to take this opportunity to turn back, but I thought there might be the blue waters of Lake Huron just around the next turn.  On I went until finally tiring of the rocky, rutted, road, lined with pine trees, and lots of green vegetation.  I did find the next turn around point and proceeded to reverse myself and take the bumpy road back to the entrance.  Well, I suppose all of that took about 20 minutes, but I did experience that sense of the unknown and also took a few photos of wild flowers along the way.

Well that was a longer story than what I intended to tell when I began the last paragraph.  I approached the famous Mackinac Bridge about 10:30 AM and crossed the Straits of Mackinac between Lake Huron and Lake Michigan.   I found my Boardwalk Inn quite quickly on the Main St. of St. Ignace and spent the next several minutes toting my luggage up the stairs to the third floor.  The ever present heart rate monitor on my new Apple Watch began to work over time.  At one point I hit 121 BPM.  The Inn is quite comfortable.  My room is a bit on the small side, but the bed is as good as any I have ever slept in--if only I could sleep on these journeys of mine.  

Because I had arrived early, I decided to spend two days on Mackinac Island.  My goal this first day was to ride the ferry without my bike and just walk around the main areas of the bustling tourist town that features the famous Grand Hotel, many hotels of a lesser, but not unattractive nature.  There are shops of all kind on Main St. and Market St., and, yes, a variety of fudge and ice cream stores, places to eat, and several pubs for having a pint.  I tried a locally brewed "red" with name of Huron in it and it was quite nice and complemented my small order of wings.  I took lots of photos on my walk, which I will share in the Mackinac Island photo portfolio  below. Let the photos of my walk speak for themselves, except where a caption might help to give context.

The Fourth Day

Day two was for bike riding. I left at 9:00 AM and this time we took a ride under the Mackinac Bridge on or way to Mackinac Island.  When we crossed under the bridge, we were on Lake Michigan if only for a few short minutes before turned back toward the island.   It is only an 8 mile trip around the outer perimeter of the island, but I stopped at various places to take photos of Lake Huron and some of the interesting rock formations on the island.  I ended up on my bike for two hours, which was a good workout, but also an opportunity to see the whole island beyond the busy touristy harbor village. .  I hope that tells a better story of my two day visit.   I enjoyed my stay at the Boardwalk Inn and ice cream in both Saint Ignace in Mackinac.  I enjoyed beers in two nice pubs on Mackinac and whitefish in both towns.  I talked to a few people on my travels, particularly  a nice couple in the Pink Pony Bar and Grill on Mackinac.  They have been coming to the island form Port Huron, MI for 27 years.   Most of the time they stay at the Grand Hotel, because as Jerry put it, "It is the best deal in town.  We get both breakfast and a great dinner each day."  It is unlikely that I will ever return to Mackinac Island, but I am thankful for the visit and it is always fun to meet people who enjoy coming to the same place year after year.  Not unlike my love of Cape Cod.

So here it is, after 2 AM on Tuesday Morning, June, 30.  I have had my five hours of sleep, so I decided to sit and write about Monday now with the hopes that when I finish I can go back to sleep for another hour or two.  I am staying in a rather old motel known as the Northland Inn.  Although the structure is old, the Indian or Pakistani couple who run it have obviously sunk some money into it, because the bathroom fixtures are new and the beds are comfortable.  The free Wi-Fi leaves a bit to be desired and the furniture is perhaps as old as the place itself, but I have stayed in less comfortable places.  It comes equipped with a refrigerator and a microwave and a new coffee machine to boot.  The room itself is quite large.  I should not complain for $48.00 per night on booking.com.  Since Kawkawlin, MI was a stopping off point on my way to Mackinaw Island in the northern peninsula, I did not want blow my budget on a high priced place for this one night visit.  I am a little nervous about bugs etc. but except for a few tiny sand fleas that I dragged in from my walk on the beach, I have seen nothing to cause me concern.  Update: I did see a thing with lots of legs (a waterbed perhaps) after I wrote this initial paragraph, but nothing I have not seen in my own house.   I am such and adventurous soul.  BTW, my house does not have a lot bugs.  The owners work hard to groom the grounds at the Northland Inn.   Their serious efforts at landscaping and a small circular garden of colorful flowers show a young family trying to make go of this little business in this little town on my way to Mackinaw Island.

My travels from Niagara Falls to this typical blue collar community on the southwestern shores of Saginaw Bay on Lake Huron are best described as moving forward, almost as straight as an arrow across the flatness of Ontario, Canada west of Niagara, through the frequent construction projects on I 69 and I 75 in central Michigan, and arriving in Kawkawlin at 1 PM in the afternoon.  I picked this place off of booking.com because of its closeness to Bay City, Michigan.  Home for speed boat racing and the “The Bay City Ramblers” of some former musical era.  I experienced about an hour delay at the U.S. Canadian border where it took me forever to pay the toll at the bridge that crosses river between the two countries.  Once on the other side, I moved very quickly through the border check and was on my way.

Arriving at 1 PM gave me the opportunity to stop for a new chicken wrap sandwich at the McDonald’s (how brave of me) just up Hwy 13 near my “Inn” and then proceed to the State Park down Beaver Rd. where I spent the afternoon-over two hours-taking a leisurely bike ride on the rail trail and hiking paths that complement this spot as a key camping facility for traveling families.  As you can guess, I took many photos of the marshy and forestry vegetation in the park and took a couple  of short walks to the beach areas on Saginaw Bay.  I heard lots of frogs along the way, but did not capture any with my trusty Canon Powershot 50SX HD.  However, I did snap a few birds and ducks as well as capturing numerous shots of the marshy and shoreline landscapes that confronted me on my lengthy bike ride.  This was not a workout bike ride, but rather a ride speckled with many stops and starts as I tried to capture the simple beauty of the natural surroundings on this southern section of Lake Huron.  I present the photos below and without much text labeling.  It was an enjoyable afternoon on a sunny, but comfortable day in June in the heartland of Michigan.  The people I talked to here were friendly and helpful with directions for how to navigate the park and the bike trail.  My Fuji bike that has been with me for as long as Gina has been on this earth served me well as I stopped and started for frequent camera shots.

I returned to my little “Inn” for a brief rest before heading out on a tour of Bay City just to the south and east of where I was staying.  There are no photos of Bay City.  It did have a very nice green area on the shores of the Saginaw River and the traffic pattern through town demonstrated some good thinking on the part of the town fathers.  I was looking for a restaurant along the way, perhaps one with some local flavor, but I am ashamed to say, I settled for an Applebee’s on the outskirts of Bay City on my way back to Kawkawlin.  I took another drive down to the park for an early evening look, but did not stop.  However, I did stop for an excellent ice cream cone at the little drive-in caught by my iPhone camera.  It was a cozy place for both local and vacationing families to gather for a treat at day’s end.

There is a danger at writing at 2 in the morning after a five hour sleep.  It causes one to ramble on and on.  I will bring this day’s journal to a close with a few parting thoughts about my early journey.  With bike, camera, golf clubs,  and clothes enough for 10 days before a laundry stop, I travel to first time stops on my way to my first home in Wisconsin.  It is only day two, but already I have felt the freshness of seeing a “modern” Niagara Falls vacation mecca and the home grown simplicity of middle America.  My friend Tiffany emailed me last evening to confirm a dinner gathering with her husband, Patrick, and her next Tuesday in the vicinity of the Wisconsin Dells.  My calendar is filling up for my two week stay in Madison and I am happy about the friends that I will see there.  However, the serendipitous  nature of my 10 day journey to Madison is providing me with simple pleasures, new experiences, and an overflow of photos to share with you.  In just a few hours, I will be on my way up the western shores of Lake Huron.  There are many state parks along the way and I will probably stop at a few. I am hoping for some dramatic views along the shoreline of the largest of the Great Lakes, but I am also anxious to get to Saint Ignace just after crossing the Mackinaw Bridge onto the northern peninsula of Michigan.  I am looking forward to exploring Mackinaw Island, accessible from Saint Ignace by frequent ferries.  I intend on taking my bike to the island for a spin.