Somewhere else

                                                                         Dropping off a table on the road to Arcadia.

You just have to trust.

We got out of town just in time to meet the bad weather up in northern Michigan last week. It was cold, windy and damp. But the scenery was different; the house had been professionally cleaned; and it was just really nice to be somewhere else. We saw no one but grocery clerks, played Scrabble with a real board and wooden pieces, and actually conversed on topics beyond politics for minutes at a time. 

We were going to take the Milwaukee ferry on Sunday morning, but when we arrived at 5 a.m. the ferry had been cancelled because the lake was kicking up 9-foot seas. So we drove up through the UP, the calming, scenic route, and I did get a bike ride in during a one-day break in the weather. It was a lot of climbing, and, if I wasn't such a sissy, the descents would have been chaotically fast. We took the ferry on the way back, and it was harrowing, the boat lurching and slamming from side to side. They should have cancelled that one, too, and I will never ride the Lake Express again.

I feel good on a bike. Normal. With my feet locked in, pushing down is no problem. It's just walking I find difficult. My MD-afflicted ankles are such a mess. In a strange house, I lurch from counter to table to wall, pull myself up stairways with the railing and hold on tight coming down. Getting up from a couch requires a push down with my fists, which makes me feel like a very old man. Wearing boots I can do pretty well, walk for miles, but in tennis shoes or just socks I walk with care, or just sit. Do I need a cane? Boy, I hope not. 

Here's a few pix. 

The scenic overlook

Down the other side

About to topple?

(Ms. V photo)

  

Work barge near the lighthouse

(Ms. V photo)

Tough bird