We are back in our usual places, Reader. You wonder what I’ll remember most about our trip through the UP. I think I’ll continue to be struck by how rough it is up there…and how gentle…at the same time. Those Yuppers (that’s what they call themselves) are the nicest people you’ll ever meet. I used to believe that Southerners had the corner on hospitality, but I’ve learned that folks are nice and hospitable all over the world. They are no nicer anywhere than in the UP. Nice and hearty. Very very hearty. Those folks can take it.
And the dirt roads. I love a good dirt road. I cannot drive enough of them. I love the sound it makes under the tires.
And the lakes. Lakes lakes lakes. The colors on the lakes as the sun changes. The sound on the lake when a canoe and its fisher glide by. The sound of the coyotes across the lake at night. And the owl in the tree. And the wild noise a heron makes on a lake at sunrise. And the sight of the full moon reflected on the lake. And the stars the stars the stars.
And how rundown a place will get under enough snow. The UP is not a place for fancy.
I told Deb that if anything ever happens to her, I’ll eventually get in my car and head for the UP. It’s a beautiful place to get lost in. A gentle place that will toughen you back up. And a place where folk don’t ask much about you…they don’t care why you want to use their shower in their little motel…they just think about it and agree to $5.00. And if the water in their little motel is shut off because of a water-main break, they’ll give you the towels from room number 11 and ask you to bring them back from wherever you have to go to get water. Don’t look for me there. But I’ll eventually bring back the towels.
Not Alice 