Canadian Road Trip - Day #2

I started this story a few weeks ago before all this new grandbaby business started. If you missed the first installment, or it's been so long you can't remember what I wrote, you can read about Day 1 of our excursion by clicking here. 

For the reader's digest version, one fifty-something short mother, her two twenty-something equally short daughters, and a thirty-year-old long-legged engineer friend from church headed north to Ontario, Canada in an aging, used to be nice but still very comfy, green Grand Marquis for a weekend trip to see a good friend get married.  On Day 1, we drove from Ashland, Wisconsin to Thunder Bay Ontario.

Day 2 

When the alarm went off at 6:00 a.m., Kiah remembered that Thunder Bay was in eastern time zone and Sioux Lookout was in central. We slept for another hour. Sweet. 

I'd forgotten my slip and nylons so headed to Wal-Mart. I asked the ditzy young clerk with a pink stud in her tongue where to find slips. 

She said, "What are slips?" 

I told her, "Something you wear underneath a dress so people can't see through it." (Don't young ladies wear slips anymore?)

I almost had a heart attack buying gas in Canada. Ouch! Muy expensive! It's sold by the liter and I don't know how that translates to gallons, but buying half a tank of gas cost at least $25 more than it does in America. 

Christina drove for awhile and our rule is the driver gets to choose what to listen to. Christina really likes an Irish group called Gaelic Storm. They are good musicians but sing a lot of drinking songs and Christina burnt us out on this particular album three years back when she listened to it over and over.

After an hour of Gaelic Storm, Kiah and I rebelled. When Christina and Brendon got out of the car to buy donuts, I changed the album. Kiah thought we should hide Brendon's Zune (kind of like an iPod). She suggested hiding it in their stuff as they probably wouldn't think to look there.  Kiah hid the Zune in Christina's backpack. When they returned, Brendon asked if anything needed to go in the trunk. Kiah handed him Christina's backpack.

Kiah and I giggled like thirteen-year-olds while we waited for them to realize they were Gaelic Stormless. When they finally noticed, we passed this ransom note to the front seat.

They refused to capitulate to our demands so i played the two songs I have on my ipad and then Kiah and I sang enduring classics like, "Oh Where is My Hairbrush?" and "Home on the Range." 

Kiah, who has a nice singing voice, wanted to make it clear that she was just goofing around, and said she was singing as off-key as possible on purpose.  I don't sing well and couldn't lie. I said I was just singing normal. 

After a four hour drive from Thunder Bay, we arrived in Sioux Lookout with an hour to spare. In the absence of Taco Bell we ate at the Canadian fast food chain called "Tim Hortons." (I asked a clerk who Tim Horton was and she didn't know.) We finished getting ready in the restaurant's bathroom, then high-tailed it to the wedding.

It was an outdoor lakeside wedding. Very pretty and sweet and worth driving 408.68 miles for.

They are a neat couple and we're excited for them. It was a God-honoring ceremony and we enjoyed every minute.  Both families heartily approve so it was a truly joyous ocassion. After the bridesmaids walked down the aisle, two junior bridesmaids carried a sign that said, "Uncle Nathan, Here comes your girl." 

They wrote their own vows. Nathan went first and did a nice job. Alisha's vows were eloquent and well thought out. When she finished, Nathan joked, "I'm glad I went first."

On the way back to the car, I rolled my foot and fell on the grass. I hope the only people who saw me fall were my travel companions. One minute, I was there, and the next I wasn't. Thankfully, I wasn't hurt. I didn't know nylons could get grass stained. Very embarrassing. 

We enjoyed the reception. Much food, all good, though we were surprised and disappointed there wasn't gravy. They had an amazing dessert bar instead of wedding cake. I don't use the word "amazing" lightly because the word gets watered down when it's used all the time, but this was truly amazing. About twenty different desserts and they all looked good. That alone made the trip worth it. 

Christina amused herself at the reception by playing with the melting candles at our table. Whoever cleared the table probably wondered why someone had filled five large plastic clear glasses with melted candle wax. That's my girl!

The Canadians we visited with, when they heard where we were from, often said some variation of, "Oh, you're from down south." When you live in the northernmost tip of Wisconsin, you're not used to be referenced to as from down south. 

The bugs were awful. Even with bug spray they still got through. Christina reacted to a bug bite and her left arm swelled and started hurting.

Our family calls Brendon my second son. We feed him and in return, he helps move furniture and reach  things on high shelves. I'm holding dipped Oreo cookie favors that I snitched off places that people didn't sit at to bring home to my four daughters back home who couldn't go. I'm aware the purple jacket doesn't go with the outfit, but cold people cannot be choosy. 

Congratulating Nathan

  

We had a 90 minute drive south to our hotel.  We kept seeing signs like "Moose Crossing, Moose on the Loose, and Moose Danger" but thought it was false advertising because we had yet to see a moose. Kiah and Brendon finally saw one on the ride to the motel.  Since it was just the bare outline before it lumbered in the woods, I didn't think that counted as an official moose sighting. 

We arrived at Driden, Ontario's Best Western Hotel to discover that our small room only had one queen bed. Made our sketchy two bed motel room the night before not seem so bad. Brendon slept on the floor by the door and Christina slept on the floor by the bed and Kiah and I enjoyed a good night's sleep on the bed.

One day in Canada so far - a big, beautiful, watery, northern place. Still hoping to see a moose before we head south to Northern Wisconsin tomorrow.

Expanding My Horizons

My First Trip to Canada

My oldest daughters, Christina, Kiah, and I took a weekend trip the end of June to Canada to watch our adopted college student, Nathan, marry his beautiful sweetheart.  The wedding was ten hours away in Sioux Lookout, Ontario. Christina planned our route and itinerary.

The thought of driving that far with Kiah the speed demon did not appeal, but I wanted to see Nathan's wedding, Canada, and Lake Superior's north shore. 

Our friend, Brendon, came with us. We figured he'd be handy to change flat tires, share driving, and keep weirdos away.  Weirdos shouldn't bother us with a six-foot two man around. (Unless the weirdos were taller than him.) Brendon deserves a special award for traveling that far with three quirky women. 

Since we were cooped up in a 1996 Grand Marquis for three days, we had to learn to accommodate our differences. Such as the three young people enjoy listening to music much of the time. I could drive to Alaska and back without music and be fine. Kiah plays loud music in the morning while she gets ready. Loud music in the morning grates on my nerves.

Brendon and I drive the speed limit. Kiah doesn't. I like to stop and smell every rose along the way. Kiah doesn't stop for anything but gas and food. Christina and I love to hike and stop at state parks and scenic overlooks. Kiah, not so much. Christina and Kiah are coffee drinkers and frequent coffee shops. Brendon and I aren't coffee drinkers and the thought of paying $4 and up for something that tastes like burnt muddy water is unthinkable. Brendon is a morning person. The three of us are night people. 

We left early Friday morning, hoping the 60% percent chance of forecasted severe thunderstorms meant a 40% chance of no thunderstorms.  Severe weather never materialized, but it did rain and I can't say what Minnesota's north shore looks like as it was rainy and overcast most of the day. 

June 21 and we had this kind of weather. 

(People in Florida and Arizona, eat your heart out.)

Kiah protested stopping at Gooseberry State Park. Said hiking in the rain wasn't fun. Said rainy days were for sitting in coffee shops reading books. We ignored her.  Recent rains had swelled the waterfall to impressive proportions. The water was much higher than when we went there three years ago. 

I like this picture because while I love my daughters dearly, I'm not good in emergencies. I'm standing a respectful distance away from the way-over-the-banks rushing river, while Christina, who is good in emergencies is standing right beside Kiah, ready to grab her if something goes wrong.

We all agreed it was too foggy to stop at Split Rock Lighthouse.  Kiah wasn't disappointed we cancelled the other state park stops as well.

Finally we reached Grand Marais, a cute tourist town at the top of Minnesota. Kiah asked how to spell Grand Marais. I saw "Grand Marquis" on our car's dashboard and said, "like Marquis, but substitute "a" for "qu."

Kiah said, "But I don't know how to spell marquis." 

I told her, "like Marais, but substitute "qu" for "a."  Even my ipad was confused and autocorrected Marais to "Maria."

We're copying the mural of Mama Bear and her two cubs.

Years ago, Keith wanted to name our son "Sven or Ole" but I liked "Andrew" better. First time I've seen a restaurant using those names. 

We ate lunch at The Crooked Spoon. I saw this sign and couldn't resist. 

Vacations are about doing and eating things you can't do at home. I'd never eaten rabbit before and thought it had a mild flavor. It was doctored with Mexican seasonings, so I'm not sure how straight rabbit tastes. 

We left the restaurant, only to discover that Brendon had put our table's salt shaker in Christina's pocket. She made him take it back. Something about road tripping makes us revert back to being children. 

Lake Superior is awesome! So is my daughter.

We all enjoyed this stop. I'm not a donut person, but who could resist the world's best donuts? I got a maple long john and Brendon bought a Skizzle, which is a yummy, fried sweet pastry. After he gave us each a bite, we wanted to get our own but resisted since we'd already eaten a donut. If you're ever in Grand Marais, be sure to get a Skizzle. 

This sign is much more welcoming that the grumpy people at the border crossing. 

The unfriendly Canadian guard fired questions at us. "Where are you going. Why? For how long? What are you taking? Do you have more than $10,000?"  We could safely say we didn't.

I was disappointed not to see Taco Bell north of Duluth. If I ever get filthy rich, I'll build Taco Bell franchises every three hours on my most traveled routes.

We found it weird to be in a foreign country that didn't feel much different than our own. When you cross the Mexican border, it's obvious you're in a different country. But Canada is much like America except for them using metric, eating Ketchup potato chips, and pronouncing words like "progress" differently. 

We finally reached Thunder Bay, Ontario, which in my subjective opinion isn't as cool as it's name. To be fair, it was gloomy and overcast. Our hotel looked sketchy but Christina said it was one of the cheaper options. If Brendon hadn't been along, I wouldn't have stayed there. 

We visited Kakabeka Falls which was very pretty. Kiah stayed in the car. She's like her Dad that way. (Inside Dad comment - "You see one waterfall, you've seen them all.")

When Kiah was driving in Thunder Bay, the GPS said to turn left so she put on her blinker. We stopped for a red light and she got distracted looking at nearby shops. When the light turned green, she said, "Why do I have my blinker on?," turned it off, and drove straight ahead.

 We ate dinner at a fun restaurant called, "Gargoyles." Our waiter heard we were headed to Sioux Lookout and said they eat a lot of gravy there. The bride was Mennonite, so the food was bound to be good. Yes, we could live with gravy. 

We're at a cool scenic view that overlooks the city. Only you can't see the city in this picture because it's behind me.

That night we tried to watch Duck Dynasty on my ipad, but a dialog box said we couldn't in that region. Probably a good thing. Hate for Canadians to think that's what all Americans are like. 

We survived one day in the car together without getting on each other's nerves. Happy to be in Canada and looking forward to the big occasion the next day.

Stay tuned.

Squeezing One Last Swimming Day out of Summer

The fact no one else was in the water should have told us we were crazy.

We average two months of decent summer up here on Lake Superior's south shore. 

Observant, seize the day kind of people can squeeze one or two more swimming days out of September if they are willing to drop everything at a moment's notice and run, not walk to make hay while the lake's liquid.

Successful September swims require 75 degrees or better weather with little wind blowing the right direction. None is even better. Wind direction determines whether COLD or Lake Superior "warm" water (cold to anyone but locals) is in the bay.

Sunday afternoon, we grabbed sandwiches, swimsuits, towels, books, and a Golden Retriever and took our chances.

It was nice. Everything you'd want a stolen day to be. 

Amy and Tucker

 

 Wait for it, Tucker

(Could someone please inform my husband that his shirt and
shorts don't go together.He doesn't trust my fashion judgment.)

 Tucker loves to chase sticks but doesn't like to bring them back.

Kiah

Anna

The shake-off

 Reading and beaches goes hand in hand

Lani (13), Anna (18), Kiah (23), and Amy (15)

"Kiah, don't touch me. You're cold."

 A different kind of sand castle

Reluctantly getting ready to leave

Tired, wet dog on my lap for the half-hour drive home

“Play in the sand; splash in the water; get dirty; get wet. 

The beach is the only place my mom doesn’t get mad 

about me doing that stuff. Of course I love the beach!”

--Dixie Dykens (age 5)--

Point to LaPointe Swim

My oldest child Christina, is always looking for new adventures. This summer's challenge was the 2.1 mile Point to LaPointe open water swim on Lake Superior from Bayfield to Madeline Island in Northern Wisconsin.  

The swim was a fundraiser for the Bayfield Recreational Center. Bayfield is a half hour north of our house and almost as far north in Wisconsin and you can go. LaPointe is a fun tourist town across the bay on nearby Madeline Island, which is part of the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore.

When Christina signed up to boldly go where no Vik has gone before, the family rolled their eyes and said "encouraging" things like,
      "Why would anyone want to do that?"
     "Are you sure you can swim that far?"
     "Will there be lifeguards?"

A determined young lady, she is. She planned. She trained. She prepared. 

As the big day approached I pondered how to see the race. Watching her swim would be harder than watching a cross-country meet. I could watch the swimmers take off but couldn't get to the other side to see her finish. Then I had a great idea. Every swimmer has someone kayak near them in case anything goes wrong. A friend from church agreed to be Christina's kayak support. If he took a two-person kayak, I could be the second person. Brilliant, I know.

I asked Brendon if I could ride over with him. He politely asked if I had talked to Christina about this. No, I hadn't, but I didn't see why she'd care - she'd be in the water.

Christina walked in the room about then and got wind of my request. She wasn't so polite. "Mom, you can't do this. Our support teams have to be experienced kayakers. You've never been in a kayak."

I didn't see why that mattered as long as Brendon was experienced. I would be just a passenger, he'd do all the work. :)

The full impact of my request hit me and I knew she was right, but didn't want to admit it. When I stopped to think about it, I probably wouldn't want to be out one mile from shore in a small kayak. Only if the lake was very calm would I even consider it. The odds of me bailing were high. Plus the race started at 7:00 am. Watching people swim that early is not this nightowl's idea of a good time. I withdrew my request, but not because Christina didn't think I could do it.

About this time someone remembered that I had a Ladies breakfast to attend that same morning. Drats. I'd forgotten all about that. Keith and a friend ended up going to watch the race. They saw her take off and took the ferry over to the island (way easier than kayaking) and watched her finish, while my friends and I ate eggs and bacon at the Lake Rock Cafe. 

450 swimmers participated in three divisions:  Male competitive, Female competitive, and community swimmers. Christina was in the last group. The men left first, then the women, and then Christina's group.

See the front kayak hole - that could have been my spot.

Instead Brendon had a young man from his soccer team kayak over with him.

Before long, swimmers and kayaks were spread out all over the two mile route. Christina plugged valiantly away.

(Later, after the race, Brendon's Mom said, "I don't know how much help he'd of been if she struggled. Would he just be marking the spot where she went down?" I'm so glad she hadn't shared that cheerful thought before the race.)

"I think I can, I think I can!"

She finished with a time of 1hour and 55 minutes

Afterwards she kayaked two miles back to Bayfield with Brendon, worked six hours, and rode four hours to Minneapolis for a party. Kids these days.

Here's a one minute video of her finish. 

Bless her determined heart, she was one of the last people in her age group to finish. But we're all amazed that she made it and think that simply attempting and finishing is a wonderful thing. I'm pretty sure I couldn't swim two hundred yards even if it mean winning a year's supply of free Taco Bell Chicken Burritos.

We're proud of Christina and enjoy vicariously participating in her adventures. 

Way to go Sweetie!

Keith's Summer Philosophy

Linking up with Lori today for Think Quotes - It's Friday.

I Should Know Better

The good news is my legs are no longer pasty white. The bad news is pink is painful.

I made a strategic error yesterday. Me, who routinely tells my children to use sunscreen, forgot to take her own advice. 


I view my painful, bright red striped legs, and think, “Angie, you idiot.”

Yesterday Keith and I took our first beach trip of the 2012 summer season. The beach was calling his name and he was eager to answer its call.

He gives me the stink-eye when I stop to chop celery. I’m still trying to lose weight and know that sunbathing is strenuous work and I will probably work up an appetite so wanted to bring food that won’t sabotage my diet.

He can’t understand why it takes females so long to get ready. He grabs his swim trunks and towel and is good to go. He wisely bites his tongue and putters in the garage while I get ready.

Even after losing weight this year, I dread being seen in a swimsuit. My twenty-year-old swimsuit died two years ago and hasn’t been replaced. It’s painful to see my lumpy reflection in the mirror and I hesitate to inflict this seen-better-days body on people who go to the beach to relax, not be scared.

I borrow Erica’s swimsuit. A ten minute search finally locates my black swimshorts in Christina’s laundry basket, wet from yesterday’s canoe trip. Drying the shorts takes another ten minutes.

At last we are on the way. I hesitate to ask, hoping Keith has a few more molecules of patience. “Can we stop at Subway?”

“Seriously?”

“Well, it is lunchtime.”

“Fine.” (Insert irritated, impatient martyr’s voice.)

Erica and I split a footlong Weight-Watcher approved Turkey Breast sandwich on 9-grain Wheat bread. Forty minutes later we’re at the beach. There are closer beaches but Cornucopia is by far Keith’s favorite.

To save time I apply 50 SPF sunscreen in the car. I thoroughly cover the front and sides of my aging body, intending to do the back when I get out of the car. 

Our corner of Lake Superior has not fully recovered from recent storms and flooding. Small choppy waves slap the shore and leave an unattractive two-foot band of floating debris. First-time visitors to Lake Superior might assume the lake is always brown and cloudy and full of debris. They won’t know the lake is normally clear and beautiful.

It’s a little windy. We choose a spot and settle in. I sit in my chair covered with a big beach towel. Keith doesn’t care that it’s cold. He’s determined that no matter what, it’s summer and he’s going in the water.

I can’t get warm. Rather than a swimsuit, I should have worn sweatclothes. I spread my towel and am happy to find that it is much nicer down on the sand out of the wind.

Sadly, I forget to put sunscreen on my back side. So while I’m contentedly enjoying the warm sand, reading Coop by Michael Perry, the sun broils my hinter regions.

Thankfully we don’t stay long. Keith doesn’t want to press his winter-white body’s luck during his first summer beach excursion. We leave relaxed and refreshed after an hour of beach therapy.

Three hours later Keith says that I’m sunburned. I don’t feel sunburned so shrug off his comment. While grocery-shopping, I notice that my legs are sore but I’m on a mission so don’t give it much thought.

Back home, I finally pay attention and am horrified to see a bright pink uneven stripe down the back of my legs. I wonder if it’s a bug bite and maybe a life-threatening infection is running down my leg, until I notice the stripe stops at the swimshort line.

I am dumbfounded to be sunburned. Me, the sensible, cautious, careful one, who always slathers sunscreen on anyone who will let me, has done the unthinkable. I have the world’s wonkiest sunburn. I can’t figure out why I have a pink skunk stripe.

Then I remember putting sunscreen on in the car. Which means the front and sides got covered, but not the back. I must not apply sunscreen evenly because the sides are jagged and uneven. There’s also a few white spots in a sea of pink. The good news is SPF 45 works. The bad news is it only works where it is applied.

The pain increases throughout the evening. I didn’t know ankles could get sunburned. Keith applies lotion and says that it has little particles. I’m still reading Coop and not paying attention until I accidentally touch the lotion which feels suspiciously like face scrub. Keith looks at the bottle again and sees that it’s labeled “Body Cleanser.”

The poor man has no way of knowing how to decipher female lotion and potion lingo. My legs start to burn, only this time from the cleanser. I quickly shower and return for round 2.

He balks when I suggest Bag Balm. Bag Balm is used on cow’s udders but also works great for diaper rashes and dry hands. He generously slathers my hind quarters and I sigh in relief. I can only lie on my front or side but it feels better. Keith complains that I stink.

My back side is very soft today. The sunburn is less painful. I move slowly and wear loose clothing. Hopefully Bag Balm washes out of our sheets.  I will never go to the beach without using sunscreen again.

If you see me moving slowly and notice that parts of my body are pink and I smell like a cow, you’ll know why.

P.S. Keith - When a woman’s in pain, she shouldn't have to worry about her husband having fun at her expense. You’d better sleep lightly if you don’t delete the I-phone picture of my burned Bag-Balmed backside you took last night.

Anna's Turn

I shared last month that Keith had each of the girls write something about our trip to Ontonagon. This is what Anna (age 17) had to say:

Vacation felt wonderful after lifeguarding this summer at camp. Camp was amazing and I’m so glad that I went. It taught me many things, helped me grow in my walk with God, and I feel like it’s really helped me prepare for going away to school this fall.

Camp was also exhausting and I didn't have very much free time. It took a lot of physical, mental, and emotional energy. I wouldn’t trade my summer but after a lot of work, vacation felt priceless. 

I loved being able to stay up late and sleep in. I loved having time to read and to journal. 

I loved all of the lazy beach days and just being able to lay out and soak in the sun. I loved the calm, relaxed feeling of this vacation.

 

But one of the things I loved most of all was that it was just family. No running to people’s houses. No dropping off this person here or that person there. Just us staying at the same place, doing the same things, and enjoying each other.

I love my family and am blessed to have them. I can truly say that my sisters are some of my best friends. Sometimes they can really get on my nerves but who doesn’t get on somebody’s nerves at one point or another. It’s life and we always work through it.

I wouldn’t trade my family for the world and appreciate all the time and effort Mom and Dad have put into us. They’ve done great and I thank God that they’re my parents. And I also thank God for each and everyone of my sisters and for my one and only brother. I am blessed and I will miss my family this fall when I'm away at school. 

Other family members chimed in on this topic. Click on their name to read what they had to say. Erica, Angie, and Keith.