People Helping People.

In the wake of a senseless act that I am completely sickened and saddened by, I just want to say that I still believe that people are inherently good. It's been more and more evident to me in the past week or so. The right to bear arms is constitutional and I know that. However, the right for civilians to bear automatic weapons, weapons that are only created for killing masses in a short amount of time and not at all for self defense is something I will never understand. I've been feeling a lot lately so I apologize for bringing this blog back to reality if only for a moment. Like I was saying before my tangent, in my experience the good outweighs the bad even when bad looks more like evil. I know I've mentioned this topic before but it bears repeating.

A series of small, thoughtful acts over the past week have had me smiling from ear to ear.

It all started with a stop in Grand Marais, Minnesota. After my long day touring the national lakeshore in the U.P., where we last left off, I decided to explore the quaint town just outside of the lakeshore. There happened to be an ice cream parlor open and I am nothing if not a sucker for a good milkshake. A strawberry and vanilla incredibly delicious milkshake and a lovely conversation about the Pacific Northwest later, Christine asked what I was doing that night. Probably car camping, I told her, it rains more than half the time here. Just like that she offered me a place to stay. I assured her that was not why I was telling her about sleeping in my car and we both laughed. Overwhelmed by her kindness, I gave her a huge hug and happily accepted as she pointed out the pretty pink house where I'd be staying just up the road.

One of my favorite things about this trip has been the flexibility of my schedule. I am excited to be heading back east but I am also trying not to rush there and miss anything I wouldn't otherwise get to see. So, when Christine talked about sights in "the other Michigan" and crossing the Mackinac Bridge in an expressive and exciting tone, it was hard to ignore. I headed out the next morning and got to the bridge just before noon. Pronounced mak-in-aw, it's the longest suspension bridge in the Western Hemisphere and spans 3,800 feet from anchor to anchor. Lake Huron and Superior meet there and it is the third longest suspension bridge in the U.S. connecting the two peninsulas of Michigan. Fun fact, when the winds are too high they actually close it; how crazy is that? I rolled up to the booth and pulled out my twenty, ready for my four dollar toll, when the man in the booth informed me that my fee was already taken care of. Clearly my look of confusion was obvious since he paused and then continued on without me responding. The woman in the car in front of me who I have never met, seen, or so much as realized was even there, had paid for my toll. "She said to have a good day," he told me, smiled, and raised the arm blocking my path to lower Michigan. I tried to make sense as to why but quickly realized that I couldn't. It was simply a random act of kindness that I never got to thank someone for. So, very distant long shot that they'll ever read this, but thank you, whoever you are. I am going to do that for someone every once in a while because I have to tell you all, it would have taken a great tragedy to bring me down after that. It made my day. I love that it's been almost nine months and people still manage to surprise me in the best ways possible.

The lower peninsula of Michigan that day was beautiful, Christine was right. I drove the tunnel of trees along Lake Michigan, the road winding and very narrow, and was swallowed by green leaves while some yellow poked out here and there. I guess they hadn't gotten the autumn memo yet. I came out the other side of the twenty mile or so tunnel to a small blip of a town and adorable at that. Good Hart has two shops, a coffee house, and a general store with built-in post office boasting about their world famous pot pies. I fought the urge to buy one and instead mailed a long overdue letter for the sole purpose of having the "Good Hart" stamp slapped on the front. The general store burnt red building was picturesque with its white trim and striped awnings. Pumpkins filled the flower stands and the shop was draped with a patriotic bunting border along the top. The town sign matched and was, you guessed it, in the shape of a heart. With a name like that, they may as well live up to it.

Continuing down and around the coast of Lake Michigan I passed by Torch Lake with its almost Caribbean looking water, tried a flight of beer in Bellaire at Shorts Brewery, a recommendation from a friend, and continued on to Leland, Michigan. The lakeside town's docks were antique and rustic and modern fishing boats were docked all around it. Small wooden buildings housed shops on the floating docks with old signs saying "cheese" and "antiques". It was like a step back in time to a perfect little fishing town, a town that only exists in books or movies. If it seems like I am cruising through this day it's because I actually was. I knew I wanted to make it to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore for sunset and I knew the sun would be setting around 7:30pm. When you're driving and exploring that's not a whole lot of time and most of the drive was spent sneaking glances at the almost pristine Lake Michigan. On my way there from Leland, I passed a sign declaring the spot that marks the halfway point between the equator and the north pole, a.k.a. the 45th parallel. Kinda cool, I thought.

Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore was one of the most epic sunsets I've seen. Nothing will beat taft point at Yosemite, which I'm sure I've brought up many times, but this is a close second or third. I got there with a little time to spare and did a short hike to find icy blue and turquoise water, the sky clearing up in the distance if only for a moment and my anticipation of the sunset building. I kept driving south, worried I would miss it, and found a turnout overlooking Lake Michigan a little after 7pm, just in time for sunset, and hustled up the dune. The trees to my right were orange, almost red, from the sun and to my left was a brilliantly bright and jaw dropping orange ball of fire bursting from underneath dark clouds. Its rays shot out the bottom and onto the now dark blue lake, its reflection creating its own red carpet of sorts right up to where I was standing. The wind was howling and the dunes in the foreground looked pristine with foot prints curved out across the top. The sand blew endlessly and left me squinting. The top coat of sand left a haze of dust hovering over the dune, smudging its horizon line. I stood there admiring the view and wasn't too worried about setting up camp in the dark, the sunset was just too good to leave behind.

A long drive down and around the peninsula, past Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore where the view from the top of the dunes revealed a tiny Chicago off in the distance, took me right alongside the Windy City and back to Wisconsin. At this point in the month I only had a few days left before my cycle reset and I was out of data. Not a humongous deal, but it sort of is when trying to navigate through a city during rush hour with a time deadline. I have no idea how people did it back in the day with paper maps in congested areas like that. I had been to Chicago before, loved it by the way, and so I knew there was a highway that divided Lake Michigan and the city. I tried to carefully navigate my way through city streets with my Rand McNally road map, successfully managed not to hit anyone and discovered more one way streets in the wrong direction than I would have liked. I love using maps, but city maps are a whole other ballgame.

America's dairyland has a few things going for it. The first of which is the National Mustard Museum. Yes, that is real, and yes, it is one man's personal mustard collection free for anyone to come see and taste. Displaying almost 6,000 types of mustard from all fifty states and more than seventy countries, the collection has been going strong since 1986 when it all began. I had no idea there were that many types of mustard, did you? The second thing Wisconsin got right, is Milwaukee. A while back at Grand Tetons National Park in Wyoming, I met Lori and Ken hiking. We bonded over Ken's love for a bar in Philly and Lori's love for National Parks, both topics I know a lot about, and continued on our separate paths. A few minutes later I heard Lori call down rather calmly from a switchback above me, "Hey Genevieve, there's a bear up here so if you want to come hike with us, that would be ok." Probably not word for word, but you get the gist. I chuckled and hustled up the switchbacks, struggling with my overnight bag clinging to my back. Bear strength is better in numbers, after all. We avoided the bear and ended up talking and exploring for a while. I came to find out that Lori's name is, wait for it, Lori Simon Garfinkle - let's just take a moment and reflect on how amazing that name is. I nerded out and promptly put her in my phone as such. The two were so kind and offered me a place to stay whenever I got to Milwaukee and I couldn't wait to see them again.

Milwaukee is a city that pleasantly surprised me. It's very bike-able and people are out and about all day long. We had gone to synagogue for Yom Kippur the night before and I decided to spend the day out instead of attending more services. Lori leant me Celeste, her light blue comfy cruiser, and I rode the paved biker, hiker, and runner only path that connected me from the burbs to downtown with ease. Beautifully lined with trees and overgrown flowers, walkways and bridges, it rode right into downtown and along the water with offshoots to different neighborhoods. I came out right in front of the art museum which was all white and looked liked a modern interpretation of a ship and a whale's tale flipping out of the back. I'm sure this doesn't make any sense but it will when you see the picture. I kept going out and around the science center to enjoy the view of the city, the art museum, and the kids just outside the science center participating in what looked like a Star Wars event. One amazing thing that I did that day, other than managing to fast the whole day without getting too "hangry", was release a baby sturgeon into Lake Michigan. I came up on Sturgeon Fest, an annual event in its twelfth year, and decided to sponsor a sturgeon. Sturgeons are prehistoric fish that unfortunately have seen their population dwindle drastically in Lake Michigan. Bred by volunteers throughout the year, the festival participants got to release a little over 1,000 of these bottom feeders back into the lake. Clearly geared toward children, the sturgeon general, a spunky little girl with a flowery outfit very proudly declared that her sturgeon was named Drogon. Yes, the dragon from Game of Thrones. I had yet to actually see what a sturgeon looked like at this point so when I finally got to hold Tom Kipper, my sturgeon appropriately named for the holiday, I could see why she named him that. These ancient fish date all the way back to the triassic period and have needle noses, pointed tails, and three strips of spikes running down their back; very dragon-like. But seriously, who lets a six-year-old watch Game of Thrones?! Myself and most of the audience burst out laughing. Riding that high, the rest of my day was spent slowly biking around the different neighborhoods. I started with the marketplace in the historic third ward, a smaller version of Seattle's, then riverwalk with its creative metalwork framing the walkways and tall buildings casting their reflections in the not at all blue water. A few statues stuck out here and there and theaters were already getting busy. I headed up the hill, struggling a bit on Celeste, and came upon Brady street where bars and brunch were the main scene and cute and colorful exteriors with vines were a common sight.

The best part about Milwaukee was getting to experience a new kind of synagogue with Lori, talking and enjoying her company, and getting to express realizations about my trip and myself that I hadn't voiced out loud yet. In true Lori fashion, every new story I told she was more excited about and every new place we went together, whether it was breaking the fast with her friends or relaxing with a beer, she made me feel right at home. I look forward to breaking the fast next year with a pear and Lori over facetime. I've been pretty lucky with the awesome people I've met and I cannot thank her and Ken enough for offering me a place to stay so long ago and then sticking with it. You both made my week of wonderful that much more enjoyable.

On my way out of Wisconsin I made one more stop at Devil's Lake State Park, a place Lori had pitched to me as a gem of Wisconsin. I was in. I needed to hike, it had been a while. With about two hours before it got dark I checked my offline maps, found a hike that seemed to be a good loop and started the climb. I climbed up and over beautiful purple and red boulders with trees tucked away in corners, and walked along the east bluff that towered above a sea of green treetops that stretched as far back as I could see and made me want to dive right into them. The grey and purple boulder field covered the side of the mountain and fall leaves growing between the cracks were illuminated. Devil's Lake, off in the distance, was highlighted by the slowly setting sun. I sat on the edge of the stacked boulders and looked down on the towns and trees below. A hawk soared above me, effortlessly gliding, making his rounds without a care in the world. I had turned my phone off prior to the hike and it was once again just me and nature. I wished for a moment I could be that bird, free from any of the stresses down below or worries that may be stopping me. I took a moment for myself, then got up and proceeded back down to Bertha, suddenly reminded that that luxury is something most people don't have. I caught the end of the sunset on my way out, the orange glow highlighting my drive to the campground where I set up Bertha for another cozy night, already ready for more driving and more adventures.

I just got done with a brief stint in Iowa and two great trips to Kansas City and St. Louis, Missouri. Next time though!

- G.

The Photo:
Milwaukee's skyline.
Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
9/30/17.