Travel day

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called ‘Gitche Gumee’

Route 41 runs along the west edge of Superior’s Keweenaw Bay in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. As I drove south on 41 from Houghton to Baraga at around midnight, I went past a break in the trees between the road and the bay where I could look straight down the bay and into the full moon. The moonlight reflected off the water in a short shiny streak that shimmied with the waves. It was gone in less than a second, but made the trip worthwhile.

It’s been a long day and my planned posting on the bore three rows behind me on the flight from Chicago to Minneapolis—the one with the voice that cut through the engine noise, you’ve probably run into him yourself—will have to wait. So, too, my thoughts on how the knit golf shirt has become the unofficial uniform of middle-aged white guys.

One thing I will say is that the world has become a very different place when you can get a wifi connection in a crummy little Best Western in the YouPee. And the place doesn’t even bother to advertise it.