Well, we took Stephen, Joel, and Steve Cooper up to the Yoop for the weekend for a little nostalgia tour. Traveled ’til the wee hours to get to Marquette…couldn’t find an available campsite in two parks and finally ended up spending the last part of the night at a scenic turnout, hoping that since we’d arrived early in the morning they wouldn’t ticket us for “overnight” camping. Woke up to the sun trying to break through the clouds and Alan walking the beach. Highlights included breakfast at the Coachlight (“like another world”—not a flash from the past but a long, quiet interlude with the Beach Boys and the Beatles on the radio while someone somewhere took about an hour to make a pot of decaf coffee…), hiking up Sugar Loaf in the rain and mist (while I snoozed…can’t skip up even small mountains yet), meandering along Lake Superior at Wetmore Landing (where Steve C. and Joel had the audacity to go swimming in the rain and toe-numbing water), lunching on Jean Kay steak and rutabaga pasties at Presque Isle, walking the pier, finding just the perfect picture collage for Alan’s new (ish) office at the Art of the Rocks festival, perusing Washington St. and looking longingly down the lane where we used to live on Brickyard Road (Terror of terrors: the sand pit where the kids spent endless hours trying to break their legs as youth has become a grassy field and a brand new Lowe’s! The sorrow of it all…). We stopped at Jilbert’s for ice cream sundaes (another grief of heart: the fabulous dairy has been bought out by Dean’s ice cream and now slaps the Jilbert’s sticker on a perceptibly inferior brand of ice cream 😦 ). It took until 10 pm to arrive in the Sault from Marquette via a driving tour of Dafter (all one street of it) and past my childhood home on Dillion Ave. (all one street of it too). The car hop at Clyde’s was competition for the waitress at the Coachlight, but we eventually did get our burger baskets and old-fashioned chocolate malts. (Funny, we used to eat at Clyde’s late at night, but I never got sick from it before! The guys did fine. Must be a touchy stomach still from my surgery.) We stayed overnight at Aune Osborn’s RV park, listening to the cry of gulls and the mournful tooting of the Sugar Island Ferry.
I would have loved to attend our old church, but it was not to be. Alan was by then a little restless to get home, and since he always does the lion’s share of the work, he also gets the lion’s share of the votes. We did try to visit Alan’s Cousin Don, who is dying of cancer, but he wasn’t at the hospital, which made us both very sad. We also had a lovely meander through the Soo Locks’ park, breakfast at the Lockview, where the service was appropriate for the current century and the tea was hot, and then dodged in and out of thunderstorms and blue skies on our way home, stopping only for a rest break and game of miniature golf about Petosky and then for some subs before arriving back to good old GR. In all, a wonderfully fun and refreshing weekend.
How about you?