See what you are missing

We have traveled far and wide to see what we have sought, out our back window. Fall has just begun, yet Fall colors are coming to a close. The annual "turning of the leaves", a ritual to which we look forward in the Eastern time zone, began for us in Acadia National Park on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean. There, there were some color changes and the smell of wet leaves. As we headed West, particularly western Maine and the eastern foothills of the White Mountains, the autumn leaves began their color show, initially high on the hill sides and slowly descending to the valley floors. After a night at Hastings campground in the White Mountain National Forest, we regained US Route 2, pulling Rudy along a very good, wide shouldered road.

In northern New Hampshire we jogged between scenic turnouts. Descended into riverside New England towns, past elite boarding schools, and signs to regional snow skiing areas, not yet open. The colors were distinct: reds were brilliantly red, as were the oranges and yellows. All this punctuated by the evergreen green. The trees still had carried their leaves, few on the ground. A full-color Fall.

On one particularly broad vista scenic turnout, we stopped behind a pick-up truck, back cover open, and artfully displayed, all manner of Vermont maple syrup. Jars of whipped syryp. Unique bottle shapes as well as an assortment of maple syrup candies. The man purchasing syrup ahead of us said that the women's prices were the best he had found. We believed him and bought our share, spredding the flat-land mid-Western wealth to the rural hill people of Vermont. We did our duty. By the time we had reached the home-base for Ben & Jerry Ice Cream, the colors were less intense. Past Montpelier, the capital with >8,000 people, continuing westward, up Lake Champlain and further up Upstate New York, really a muddy color, orangish reds and yellows, everything running together. Over the hump and then down along the southeasten shores of Lake Ontario. ("Is there an Off tario?")

We finished up our fall color tour in the western foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, Chagrin Falls Ohio. Some trees are just beginning to turn.

Looking out our back window, it was all here. You should see it for yourself.

Ahoy matie

Our Mississippi Covington Inn B&B was a "towboat", a misnomer of course since these tugs push barges, not tow them. At night, when it is very quiet, the engine sounds of passing tugs are barely perceptable. The engines are buried below the water line, making a muffled, low pitched humming sound. Inspite of their great cargo, their square shape, a 6 or 8 barge ensemble barely makes a wake. No rockin' or rollin' for those tied to shore. The towboat at night is lighted fore and aft with its navigational lights displayed, and a solitary companionway light midships. Our towboat is permanently docked, with city water and sewer, great for showers and flushing toilets. The long dark vertical poles keep the boat in place as the Mississippi River water level rises and falls. The life ring is mostly for show as we are fast lashed to shore on its port side. On the starboard side of course, with the expanse of the River; a life ring may come in handy. Topsides is open, and, because of a raised teak deck, the railings are somewhat low, for the party crowd.

Opening the midship's companionway, through the swinging doors, deposits you into the main salon, nautical in authenticity. This is where breakfast is served at 8:30 AM. Our first meeting was at 7 AM at the Minneapolis Convention Center 20 minutes away. Needless to say, we missed breakfast. The fireplace is real only it is propane fueled; it takes the chill off the moisture ladened Fall evening. Cozy. We met our ordained minister hostess who marries couples officially on board; 36 so far. All the elements for a shipboard romance. We were the only ones on board so we had the pick of accomodations. The lower level, down a companionway, below deck and the water line, where engines once hummed, was not our first choice. On the salon level, just steps from this cozy environment was the 1st mates quarters, smallish, with a queen sized bed taking up most of the space. We passed.

The spiral staircase, not like that of "Tara" of Gone With The Wind fame, is a compact helical contraption, brass rails worn from frequent use, leading to the Master's suite and Pilot house. A jingling bell key fob hung from the door's lock. A quick turn ushered us in. Plenty of room, a fireplace, wooden blinds; with starboard and port egress narrow passageways, to the open party deck. A "Sleep Number" bed provided some brief entertainment. The "head" was small but sufficient as we have become accustomed to such facilities onboard "luxury liners" during our travels. Our seafaring quarters quite in keeping with our maritime theme. We had arrived in the middle of Middle America, as far West of the East Coast, and as far East of the West coast as we can be, again, we are aboard ship. Kathy, for all her protestations about seasickness at the slightest hint of boat motion, has booked us into another water adventure, and of course, it has paid off in a wonderful and memorable experience. Go Kathy!

Another day in the life of Ivan Ivanovich

I drove from East Lansing sunshine into rain yesterday evening as I arrived at the cottage. Big Red managed to make a whopping 28 mpg as I slowed down going into towns traveling at 37 miles per hour, the transmission still in gear 5 and the engine using only 4 cylinders. Pretty amazing. I averaged 23.9 MPG for the entire trip. I'll bet Al Gore would be glad, NOT.

I unloaded Big Red of all the important stuff and started my brand spanking new Made in China 4800 watt electric heater to warm up the cottage, only to find that the emergency shut off switch was defective and kept shutting off the heater after 3 to 5 seconds of heat. Needless to say, I was lucky that the outside and inside temperatures were in the 49 F. range and not 39 F.

This morning I awakened to not see the crashing into the moon of an Aires booster and payload. I am told the crashing was a success. Time will tell.

The internet works well as I was able to do my Pulmonary Function Testing interpretations on line and on time: 300 miles away.

Jumping into Big Red during a particularly heavy downpour, I went to Miller Lake area and the Peninsula TimBr Mart Hardward where I had purchased the heater, and exchanged it, without proof of receipt, just my word. This one puts out 4800 watt of heat. The place is toasty warm now. However, the oil residue on the calrod heating coil sent out fumes and the smoke detector loudly anounced its displeasure.

I drove back from the hardware store in a pouring rain, wind from the North, again, only 2 of the three wind turbines working, just like this Spring and this Summer. Either the folks up here in the Northern Bruce Peninsula Municipality aren't using electricity, or, the resting wind turbine is still malfunctioning. To support the former hypothesis, there are no lights across the way even though this is the Canadian Thanksgiving holiday. I am the only one here on Little Pike Bay. I am doing my best to use all the electricity those turbines can generate. As the wind has die recently, I probably am using the electricity from Bruce Nuclear, a more consitent base of generation. To support the latter hypothesis, several times this last Spring and Summer there was a crane with its arm raised tinkering with the balky windmill. Wind turbine reliability is an issue it seems. If we hitch a ride on the "alternative energy" boat with its unproven and currently evolving (ie, over several decades) technology, we may find ourselves crashed up on the rocks, lights out and in the cold. Enough said.