Showing posts with label Vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vacation. Show all posts

Friday, August 19, 2016

Home is the sailor

Or something like that. Canoeing and riding the Badger ferry count as sailing, right? We did a lot of tacking at first on the canoe--going in a straight line requires a bit of paddling coordination--but after a while Hamlin lake beckoned us out of Lost Lake. A local told us later that the lake, deeded to the state by a lumber baron, is required to be lowered a couple of feet in late fall to make lumbering easier--but frogs and turtles tend to freeze out when the water levels drop so far. (Word to the wise--double check that your hand doesn't run dry of sunscreen when prepping.)

Abend Brothers Collision seemed like a nice pun-ny name. Harrisville and Alpena were pretty quiet (and the glass boat tour of shipwrecks was fun), but Ludington was awash with visitors--luckily we motel-ed 30 minutes away, out past Walhalla (we didn't notice any fighting there).

The weather largely cooperated with us. We found that cots are OK for bad backs, but that the tent is too small for cots in wet weather. (It was dry, but I know from bitter experience that pushing against the tent is a good way to get wet in the rain.) No mosquitoes, either.

You don't want to know how many emails were waiting for me this evening.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

I don't understand beauty

One tree is symmetrical and beautiful, another twisted and ugly, and another twisted and beautiful. Beauty isn't invested in only the symmetric or the useful, it just is. Somehow.

Sometimes I don't appreciate it at first, but then when I look at it right I discover it was there all along. Like math--you don't invent math, you discover it.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Vacations and recreation

Driving through the Upper Peninsula drives home how central recreation is to the place. Without it most of the place would be subsistence hunting/fishing, since the ore and big trees are mostly gone and most of the soil is pretty lousy. Most boats aren't for professional fishing or transport, but for visitors.

So what do people go to do? Fish. Hunt. Travel around in boats. Walk long distances. Live in primitive conditions for a while.

Making a living by hunting or fishing isn't all that easy, as the older Yoopers and the Ojibwe before them could testify. It was hard work, and even with modern tools it takes time and effort (unless you bait the deer). So tens of thousands of us take a vacation from our hard jobs by doing a different hard job.

Not all our recreations are like that: some are "sit and watch" recreations (watching the boats roll in, watching the Brewers lose, watching reality shows or watching an opera), and others are contests (business league softball games and so on). But sometimes we try to relax by doing completely different work--as in the dude ranches.

Not just any kind of work, but either something exotic (cowboy or astronaut) or something that we can point to afterwards and say "I did that". Sweeping floors is not going to attract vacationers, nor the inhuman job of bolting the rear flange on pump after pump after pump.

But there's probably room (and maybe even a thriving market I haven't heard about) for people paying to spend a week in a woodshop or machinist shop with some pros helping them make something. I do kludge carpentry--better since I invested in a second-hand table saw, but nowhere near what I could do with the space and proper tools (and that wouldn't be as good as the pros). But I haven't the budget or space for a good setup. I don't think I'd shell out for a week with good advisers and use of a good rig, but then I'm not that interested in spending big bucks on a good fishing boat either--but somebody's buying them.

The Soo

"I love work. I can sit and watch it all day."

That came to mind while we watched a 1000-foot ship slowly slide into the Poe lock(*). The giant machine needs only a crew of 25 or so, according to the boat watcher and former ship engineer beside me (and the captain's job isn't all that well paid these days). Hard work, and dully unromantic for those who have to do it; but amazing to the rest of us. Watching it is even rather peaceful to those of us who don't have to worry about 2 1/2 foot clearances.
(*)

I heard the obvious joke a half a dozen times