Summer Trip, Day #4 – Finally, Another Good Day

             Friday morning, two weeks ago, we left our Airbnb in Newberry, Michigan, at 7:25 am, eastern time (which is 6:25 in the morning back home). Don’t know why we got up and got moving so early, but we just looked at each other and said, “we might as well leave.” Hubby was still not in too much pain following his fall with multiple injuries two days before.

            Our big plan for the drive home was to stop at Kitch-iti-kipi (more on that later), but we had to drive through Manistique to get there. About half-way through the town, we drove past this old water tower, and I was like, “I gotta stop!” as I nearly slammed on the brakes. (One of many reasons why Hubby usually drives, but I took the wheel since his fall.)            

           The grounds included a period log cabin and museum.            

            But on to the “big show”.       

            Kitch-iti-kipi or the “Big Spring” is in Palms Book State Park. It is Michigan’s largest freshwater spring, 200-feet across and 40-foot deep.          

            Visitors ride an observation raft, powered by a rope pulled by whichever strong rider volunteers to show off their skills, across the pond. The scenery around the pool was beautiful that morning, but the scene under the water was fascinating and impossible to describe.

            Looking through the opening in the middle of our barge.

                            

            Fishes – they tell me they are trout – swimming past where the spring water bubbles up through the sand.

            I’ve been wanting to visit for several years. Hubby had just heard about it from some friends just the week before we went. Definitely worth the side trip there. 

Summer Trip Day #3 – A Mediocre Day

            You may recall that two weeks ago, while on vacation in the UP, Hubby took a tumble and ended up in the ER. I thought we should end our vacation then, but we decided that we could sit around the Airbnb as well as we could sit around at home.

            So, Thursday morning, after I made pancakes for breakfast, Hubby convinced me to take a ride with the dog for a couple hours while he relaxed alone.

            I drove up to Grand Marais, a cute little town along Lake Superior. On a sunny day it would have been an intriguing place to explore, but alas, the clouds, which were in the sky when I left the house, opened up and set down the showers.

Hannah and I still walked around a little bit. Had to get a picture in front of the Pickle Barrell House Museum, which was unfortunately closed that day.

Next we headed over to Sable Falls. Had the weather been better, I might have tried the hike down and back up, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

On the way back to the Airbnb, I ran across this little rest area. Not sure if they plan on fixing up this place or not, but I thought it was cool.

We got back to the house and had something to eat for lunch. Then I convinced Hubby to take a short ride with me. He was feeling pretty good, and I told him we would take it easy. Also, the weather had become more acceptable.

In the tiny tourist town of Germfask is Northland Outfitters and Campground along the Manistique River. A walk past the campsites and cabins takes you to Benny the Beard Fischer, who is a wooden troll created by artist Thomas Dambo in 2023.

Very unique.

We drove back to the house about half an hour later and settled in for the night. Not quite the day I had planned, but it was an okay day anyway.   

Imprisoned

 

I’ve been sharing stories of the Apostle Paul here, and I only have a couple episodes left, so bear with me.

Paul, as well as many of those sharing the faith, was arrested and imprisoned multiple times. It was for the same reason that Jesus was arrested – the Jewish leaders saw him as a threat and the Roman leaders just didn’t want to deal with the disorder they blamed on him.  

So, here we have Paul and his partner Silas in jail in Philippi, in the book of Acts, chapter 16, verses 24-34, from the Good News Translation.

24 Upon receiving this order, the jailer threw them into the inner cell and fastened their feet between heavy blocks of wood.

25 About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them. 26 Suddenly there was a violent earthquake, which shook the prison to its foundations. At once all the doors opened, and the chains fell off all the prisoners. 27 The jailer woke up, and when he saw the prison doors open, he thought that the prisoners had escaped; so he pulled out his sword and was about to kill himself. 28 But Paul shouted at the top of his voice, “Don't harm yourself. We are all here!”

Paul knew that the earthquake was an act of God, and he knew that God had a bigger plan. The jailer didn’t know that. All he knew was that if the prisoners escaped on his watch, he rather kill himself, before his bosses would do it in a much less humane way.

29 The jailer called for a light, rushed in, and fell trembling at the feet of Paul and Silas. 30 Then he led them out and asked, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?”

         31 They answered, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved—you and your family.” 32 Then they preached the word of the Lord to him and to all the others in the house. 33 At that very hour of the night the jailer took them and washed their wounds; and he and all his family were baptized at once. 34 Then he took Paul and Silas up into his house and gave them some food to eat. He and his family were filled with joy, because they now believed in God.

The jailor was so relieved to see Paul and the other inmates still in their cells, that he knew he had witnessed a miracle and was ready to turn his life over to Christ.  

I think we witness acts of God every day. Just because these miracles aren’t as dramatic, doesn’t mean that God’s hand was not there.

(The picture above is at the old Florence County Jail in Florence Wisconsin. Even though it was built in 1889 and does not look very friendly, it was still a much nicer place than the prisons during Biblical times.)

Summer Trip - Day #2 – A Good Day Gone Horribly Wrong

            Wednesday morning, our first full day in the UP, our plan was to visit Tahquamenon Falls State Park, followed by Whitefish Point.

            We arrived at the Upper Falls and walked the paved path to several overlooks. It was quiet and peaceful, with not too many people out and about yet. The falls were beautiful.         

            We pulled into the Lower Falls parking lot about an hour and a half later.    

            We hiked the boardwalk, taking plenty of pictures. 

     

           And then headed across the bridge over the river to the island. There, we followed the dirt path that looped around the island and back to the bridge.

           We got to the far point in the trail, where the optimal photo op was a downed tree near the water's edge. I walked out that far and took a picture, but thought we should do the tourist thing and take a selfie of me, Hubby, and the dog. I picked my way across the rocks back to Hubby, just as the Brady Bunch Family showed up, so we had to wait for them to get all their pictures in.

Then we went out and perched on the log, trying to figure out how to get a selfie that included the unphotogenic dog. A sweet lady saw us and offered to snap some shots.

The last ones before tragedy struck.

            As I was walking back to the trail, holding Hannah's leash, out of the corner of my left eye, I saw Hubby flying across the ground, his arms over his head like he was Superman without a cape. Until he landed with all his weight on his face and chest. He had tripped on a tree root. 

I don't know. For a moment, time stood still. What had I just seen? Was that my husband laid out on the ground? Was he alive? How badly was he hurt? Or was he hurt at all? Surely, he'll bounce right up and be fine, as if my husband has ever bounced up, even on his best days, since I have known him.

By the time I was kneeling at his side, a woman had taken Hannah's leash from me, and two men were kneeling on each side of him, ready to hoist him up. As I watched him start to push himself up with his arms, I saw the blood dripping off his face.

"Stop, don't get up," I commanded. I don't know what the men who were there willing to help thought of this bossy wife. "Let me get your handkerchief out of your pocket. You're bleeding all over."

            Or did I really say those words? I thought I said them, but I don't remember saying anything. I just remember trying to get to all of his pockets in search of that hanky.

            Once I had it stuffed up against his nose, he pushed himself up and turned around to sit on the ground, the two men each holding a shoulder. And there Hubby sat with a face that looked like – well – looked like it had been smooshed into the pebble-strewn ground. His shirt did too, covered in sand and drops of blood.

I asked if anyone had a container of water, and a bottle of water appeared in my hand, along with a purse-size packet of Kleenex. I washed him off as best I could, while he held his hanky against his bleeding nose.

            When he said he wanted to get up, those two guys lifted him to his feet and guided him to a bench, which was right next to us. All these things – those kind people, whoever it was who took care of Hannah, the bench being right there. A person could look back on this and say, "Oh, your vacation was totally ruined", but I said, "Thank You, God, for having everything we needed to take care of him."      

            When he seemed okay, I walked cautiously to the river's edge to wash my bloodied hands and rinse out his handkerchief. Hannah was sitting next to the bench, concern on her gentle face, and the woman handed me back her leash.

Someone asked if we wanted them to get a cart to take him out – it was more than a half-mile walk through the woods to get back to the car. He said he'd be fine. At the time, since faces always bleed so much that it makes it look like things are worse than they are, I thought he was just banged up and nothing was broken or needed stitching.

            The crowd slowly dissolved. When he was ready, we started the slow walk back. I told him to keep his hat down over his face and not to look up, so as not to scare the crowds of people we met as we plodded along.

At one point, I told him I thought we should go to the ER just to get checked out. When he instantly agreed, I thought, "Shoot, he really is hurt worse than I thought." He hadn't told me yet about the pain in his chest. 

So we made it to the parking lot and he washed himself up a little bit more in the restroom, before we headed to the car.

            The half-hour drive to the hospital in Newberry seemed to take much longer than that. But we finally arrived at Helen Newberry Joy Hospital. The staff there were all wonderful, and even though it's a small hospital in a small town, the ER was busy, but our wait wasn't too long.

The ER doc ordered a CT of his neck, head, and chest, and regular X-rays on his left hand – all places that were hurting.

            The doctor finally came in with the verdict – a fracture on each side of his nose, a fracture on that hand, two fractured ribs on one side, and three fractured ribs on the other side. So a total of eight broken bones, which meant insurance would pay for an overnight stay, the doctor said, to which we said, we're sure we can handle this back at the house.

            And off to our Airbnb we drove, stopping at the pharmacy for a prescription of pain pills, which I knew Hubby wouldn't take, antibiotic ointment, and bandages.

            What a nightmare of a day! But, looking back, it could have been so much worse. And the only thing I could do to make it better was to run back to the store after supper for some ice cream for dessert.  

Summer Trip Day 1 - a Good Day

 As you may already know, Hubby and I took a short trip to the eastern UP last week. It was a long-anticipated trip, and we had high hopes that it would be a wonderful and relaxing time. Many of you know how that turned out, but let me start with the first day on the road, as that was a pretty good one.

            It was Hannah’s first big road trip with us, and she was totally onboard with it.

            We took a lot of short potty breaks, but the first big stop we made was at Fayette State Park, just under 220 miles from home.  I’ve been there two or there times before, but any place that has historic buildings is fascinating to me.

            Between 1867 and 1891, Fayette was an industrial community that manufactured charcoal pig iron. It is located on the Big Bay de Noc of Lake Michigan, between Snail Shell Harbor and Sand Bay, about nine miles south west of the tiny town of Garden.

The blast furnaces at Fayette produced a total of 229,288 tons of iron during 24 years of operation, using local hardwood forests for fuel and quarrying limestone from the bluffs to purify the iron ore. When the charcoal iron market began to decline, the Jackson Iron Company closed its Fayette smelting operations in 1891.

Over the years since then, the property had several owners, but in general, the old buildings fell into disrepair.  

In 1959, the state of Michigan acquired the site, restoring many of the buildings and turning it into a state park. The town has been reconstructed into a living museum, showing what life was like in this town in the late 19th century.

Geyser or Bust

Journal of Our Journeys 

Chapter 9 - Yellowstone 

In 1872, Yellowstone National Park became the first ever park of its kind. It was dedicated to the American people to be preserved for the enjoyment of generations to come. At the time, however, since there had never been a national park anywhere before, the government and those put in charge of it didn’t know what to do with it.

No one had allocated any funds for the upkeep and furtherance of the area. Poaching was common in that faraway place. At the time, the Wyoming territory was in what was considered a very remote area of the country, so the public the park was created for had difficulty getting there.

Before long, however, railroads and roads found their way into the park. Though visitors on horseback were the first to explore the park, automobiles began arriving by 1915. It is estimated that starting in that year, tourists drove 1,000 cars through the park a year.

When my family and I traveled to Yellowstone in 1969, many more than a thousand vehicles were in the park. It was and still is the most visited national park. Still, the American population was also much smaller in the late 1960s. There were no hordes of people, just the same hordes of bears that still hang out alongside the roads, blocking traffic and looking for handouts.

Old Faithful was already very popular and easily accessible. A crowd would gather when it was predicted to be due to erupt. The other geysers were just as fascinating, even when they weren’t erupting. Just the thought that, at any moment, they could spew hundreds of gallons of steaming water high into the air was enough for me.

Morning Glory Pool was gorgeous, and it was hard to fathom that hot water bubbling out of the ground could attract such amazingly colored algae and other organisms. Who knew that these microscopic life forms could thrive in the hot water? The blues, greens, and pinks seemed to glow in various other pools under the nearly boiling water.

Some of the other geysers and pools were a short hike from the parking lot. So, at one such place, Mom wasn’t feeling up to the walk and wanted to stay in the truck while Dad took me, Pat, and the cameras – both the regular one and the 8mm movie camera – to wander the boardwalks winding around the hot ponds and steaming pools.

We took our share of pictures and home movies, Pat and me scampering in front of the camera for Dad. Even though we didn’t view any other geysers discharging, we still had fun. When we returned to where Dad had parked the camper along the far edge of the lot, Mom was all excited. She pointed to a small lake not far away.

“A moose came right out of the woods and went through the water,” she exclaimed. “He was just a couple hundred feet away. His antlers were as wide as this camper is long. And you missed it, and I couldn’t even take a picture because you had both the cameras.”

Sure, Mom.

And since we did have the cameras, there was no way to prove it. As I said, the crowds were small, so no witnesses could back up Mom’s story. We believed her but continued to give her a hard time, mainly because we were jealous that all we had seen was hot water.

Shipwreck

I’m still writing about the Apostle Paul here on Sundays. He preached in the cities of Ephesus, Corinth, Philippi, Thessalonica, Athens, Rome, Antioch, Iconium, Lystra, Jerusalem, and Damascus, and more. I’d love to write about the remarkable things that happened in each of these places, but you’ll just have to pull out your Bible and, starting in Acts 13, read about all this yourself.

During many of these visits, the leaders of the local Jewish churches accused Paul of causing trouble and spreading lies. He was run out of a lot of towns and arrested multiple times. At one point when he was in prison, he asked to go to Rome to be tried. As a Roman citizen, he could appear before the Roman emperor to get a fair trial. This meant a long, long ship ride through the Mediterranean Sea. 

Here's the story beginning in Acts 27, with Paul’s travel companion, Luke, narrating (and with me deleting a lot of it as the whole story gets pretty long).

7 We sailed slowly for several days and with great difficulty finally arrived off the town of Cnidus. The wind would not let us go any farther in that direction, so we sailed down the sheltered side of the island of Crete, passing by Cape Salmone. 8 We kept close to the coast and with great difficulty came to a place called Safe Harbors, not far from the town of Lasea.

Paul told them, 10 “Men, I see that our voyage from here on will be dangerous; there will be great damage to the cargo and to the ship, and loss of life as well.”

 But those in charge ignored him.

13 A soft wind from the south began to blow, and the men thought that they could carry out their plan, so they pulled up the anchor and sailed as close as possible along the coast of Crete. 14 But soon a very strong wind—the one called “Northeaster”—blew down from the island. 15 It hit the ship, and since it was impossible to keep the ship headed into the wind, we gave up trying and let it be carried along by the wind.

         18 The violent storm continued, so on the next day they began to throw some of the ship's cargo overboard, 19 and on the following day they threw part of the ship's equipment overboard. 20 For many days we could not see the sun or the stars, and the wind kept on blowing very hard. We finally gave up all hope of being saved.

21 After everyone had gone a long time without food, Paul stood before them and said, “You should have listened to me and not have sailed from Crete; then we would have avoided all this damage and loss. 22 But now I beg you, take courage! Not one of you will lose your life; only the ship will be lost. 23 For last night an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship came to me 24 and said, ‘Don't be afraid, Paul! You must stand before the Emperor. And God in his goodness to you has spared the lives of all those who are sailing with you.’ 25 So take courage, men! For I trust in God that it will be just as I was told. 26 But we will be driven ashore on some island.”

The storm continued for fourteen days.

33 Just before dawn, Paul begged them all to eat some food: “You have been waiting for fourteen days now, and all this time you have not eaten a thing. 34 I beg you, then, eat some food; you need it in order to survive. Not even a hair of your heads will be lost.” 35 After saying this, Paul took some bread, gave thanks to God before them all, broke it, and began to eat. 36 They took courage, and every one of them also ate some food. 37 There was a total of 276 of us on board. 38 After everyone had eaten enough, they lightened the ship by throwing all the wheat into the sea.

39 When day came, the sailors did not recognize the coast, but they noticed a bay with a beach and decided that, if possible, they would run the ship aground there. Then they raised the sail at the front of the ship so that the wind would blow the ship forward, and we headed for shore. 41 But the ship hit a sandbank and went aground; the front part of the ship got stuck and could not move, while the back part was being broken to pieces by the violence of the waves.

42 The soldiers made a plan to kill all the prisoners, in order to keep them from swimming ashore and escaping. 43 But the army officer wanted to save Paul, so he stopped them from doing this. Instead, he ordered everyone who could swim to jump overboard first and swim ashore; 44 the rest were to follow, holding on to the planks or to some broken pieces of the ship. And this was how we all got safely ashore.

I don’t know. It sounds like the plot for a Hollywood block buster. It could have been Jack Dawson clinging to one of those planks, with Rose riding on top of it. Or I hear the haunting tune of Gordon Lightfoot’s “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”, especially when I read about the men on Paul’s ship not eating for fourteen days.

Just like the sinking of the Titanic and the Edmund Fitzgerald, Paul’s ship sank as well. But the crew and all the passengers survived! God had so much more planned for His servant Paul, and to prove that God is God over all, He saved everyone else on that ship as well. 

(Of all the pictures I've taken on so many lakes, I didn't have any with a boat being tossed about. Probably a good thing. The photos above were both taken at Cave Point County Park in Door County in October of 2020. It was a brisk day.)