On the Water

Today's project:  Kayaking.  We rented two kayaks and spent the better part of the day kayaking the Tahquamenon River from our campsite to Whitefish Bay and back.  After a short rest we went the other direction on the river toward the lower falls.  This was our starting point:

And this evening's sunset:

Hiking the Falls

There are several water falls in Upper Michigan, and we spent the day hiking near the largest of them:  the Tahquamenon Falls.  The second largest falls east of the Mississippi, they are 50 feet high and fall into a pool 50 feet deep.  That brown streak you see on the side of the falls isn't man-made pollution; rather, it's tannin, an organic substance found in the trees native to the area.  Back in the day, this tannin was used to give leather its darker color.  There's so much tannin in the Tahquamenon River that Whitefish Bay (where the Tahquamenon ends) also has a golden-brown tint to it.

As we were hiking toward the Upper Falls, we heard them long before we saw them.  We caught our first glimpse here:

But when we were up close and personal, we were even more impressed.

We spent the afternoon on a fairly challenging, four-mile hike down (but not all down-hill) to the Lower Falls, and by that point I was really glad I had decided to invest in new hiking footwear for this trip.  I nicknamed this path the "Tree Root Trail."  In spite of all the roots that at times seemed to leap up from the ground in an attempt to trip us up, this hike was gorgeous and we completed it unscathed.  With partly-cloudy skies and temps in the mid-70s, we couldn't have asked for better hiking weather.

The Lower Falls may have an inferiority complex, but they are gorgeous in their own right.

Best part of the deal?  There's a shuttle that took us from the lower falls back to our car at the upper falls!  That allowed us to get back to our campsite and cook supper before dark.


I know, I know, I know:  lots of sunset pics this trip. I just can't help it.  Watching the sun set over water is something with which I am totally enamored, and the views of the sun over the river are available to us this week while we sit at the picnic table and enjoy a late supper.  They're just too good to pass up!  Tonight's sun honestly was so huge and red as it went down, it looked like Jupiter.  For a moment it seemed like we were on another planet.

Happy Birthday to Me

Today was my birthday.  When your birthday falls in the middle of vacation, it's easy to lose track of exactly what day it is, and therefore forget the occasion.  That's exactly what happened.  I waited all thru breakfast and the first round of fishing, but Baird and Drew didn't mention a thing.  Lunch passed - nada.  By about mid-afternoon when we were fishing in Whitefish Bay, I decided the guys in my life needed a little prompting.  When I mentioned my birthday, they both looked at each other with expressions that said, "OOPS!"

In their defense, Baird and Drew had a plan, they'd just forgotten to execute it.  Once we returned to the campsite, they approached me looking like this:

My guys brought along cards and sparklers, and sang a campfire rendition of Happy Birthday.  It was a fun way to celebrate.  Spending a gorgeous summer day at a campsite is the cherry on top of the summer birthday sundae!

AND THEN!

I was blessed with this gorgeous sunset to end the day

Gone Fishing

On today's agenda:  fishing, both in the Tahquamenon River and in Whitefish Bay.

Settinng Up Camp

We're spending the next several days camping at the River Mouth section of the Tahquamenon River in Upper Michigan.  We found a campsite that sits right on the river, and has a fishing dock just a few steps away.

I think I'm really going to like it here!

A Thoughtful Moment of Remembrance

The dash on tombstones has always fascinated me.  The idea that, at the end, one's life is summed up in a small, straight line cut into a piece of hard stone seems over simplified.  I find when it comes to people I knew, it's easy to stand at the tombstone and stare at the dash, and think about how they lived that dash.  Baird's dad is one of those people whose dash was both exciting and ordinary all at the same time.

Ira Warren Shattuck III was born November 19, 1921, to Ira Warren Jr. and Daisy Evans Shattuck, and he was their only child.  His tombstone doesn't mention it, but he fought in World War II with the Army Air Corp.  He was a tail gunner, and he was involved with seven bombing missions over Germany before his plane was shot down.  The pilot managed to land the plane in Switzerland, and so he escaped the POW camps in Germany.  He somehow snuck out of the Swiss hotel where he was "a guest," and with the help of the underground, he walked across war-torn Europe.  He made it back to the States, where he traveled the country training new recruits who were slated to deploy to Europe.  He had just received his orders to transfer to the Pacific theater when the bombs were dropped on Japan.

After the war he went to college on the GI bill, and that's where he met Francis Bernadine "Bernie" Vinson, who hailed from Kentucky.  They were married on September 6, 1950, and they waited 11 long years for their first son to arrive.  The story goes that when the doctor placed this new baby in Bernie's arms he told her, "Congratulations, you have your miracle baby.  Don't expect to have any more."

Ira Warren Shattuck III went by "Warren," since his dad went by "Ira." When his son was born, Warren didn't want to saddle his son with being the IV, so a compromise was made.  Warren and Bernie decided to each take a name from their respective families, and that's how Baird's name came to be.  According to family lore, Ira was pretty upset that Baird wasn't Ira Warren IV, but he eventually got over it.

Sixteen short months later, Baird's sister was born.  Warren and Bernie wanted to call her Missy but couldn't figure out what the "proper" name was for that, so they named her Amelia Ann Shattuck.  She still goes by Missy to this day, and pretty much never uses her given name.

Warren and Bernie were living in New Jersey when the kids were born.  At that point, Warren was working as a fundraiser.  He would help an organization raise funds for several weeks, then take a few days off before heading out for the next project.  There are several Boys and Girls Clubs out on the East Coast that are there because of the money Warren raised.

While the work was rewarding, Warren realized at one point that his kids were growing up quickly, and he felt like he barely knew them.  He moved the family to Colorado when Baird was 12, and he took a job that didn't require so much travel.  When Baird was ready to start high school the family moved again, this time to Winfield, IL.  Warren took a job in the development department of Elmhurst Hospital, where three of his five grandchildren would eventually be born.  Warren's biggest contribution to the Elmhurst community was coordinating efforts for an overpass to be built for the trains that pass thru the city.  It was important to him that people not have to wait for a train to pass when they were on their way to the hospital.

By the time I met Baird, Bernie had already passed away, and Warren had remarried, retired, and moved Up North to a small spot called Arbor Vitae, WI.  When his dad came down for a visit after Baird and I started dating, Baird invited me to join them for dinner. We went to Stevens Steak House in Elmhurst.  I was charmed by this wonderful Southern gentlemen who clearly loved life.  He was fond of Broadway musicals, supper clubs, and dancing after dinner.  He had a friendly, confident manner about him, and he made friends wherever he went. He and Baird had a great relationship.

In the early winter of 1991, Warren began to struggle with a cough he couldn't quite shake.  He finally went to the doctor, who ordered some tests.  Easter weekend he made a trip down to our neck of the woods to give us the news:  he had lung and liver cancer.  Almost 50 years of smoking was catching up with him.  He bravely underwent a couple of rounds of experimental chemo treatment, and there were some good days mixed with tough ones.  One of those good days was a dinner dance that he and Jonah attended in October.  That night, as they got ready to leave, I remember thinking that he looked healthy again, if not quite strong.  They danced the night away and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

Baird and I spent as many weekends as we possibly could visiting Warren in the fall of 1991.  He told us we should come up as often as we wanted and needed to.  He made it a point to prepare us for his death.  "No regrets," he used to say.

In early November, Warren was admitted to the hospital.  We were planning to spend Thanksgiving weekend with him, even tho we knew he was in the hospital.  By the time we got up to see him, Warren had been transferred to the hospice unit.  He died Thanksgiving Day, just a few days after his 70th birthday.

The only regret I have is that Warren did not live to see four of his five grandchildren.  I know he would have been so proud.

We took some time today to stop by Warren's grave and remember.  We left pictures of our kids - his grandchildren - resting on this tombstone.

It felt good to remember.

The Big Circle

We're officially on vacation!  This year we're making a big, giant circle thru the upper Midwest.  We left Chicago yesterday and spent the night in Minoqua, WI, near where Baird's dad used to live.  Whenever we'd go up to see him, we'd always pass this restaurant with these giant figures in the front, and we'd always say to each other, Someday we should stop in and try that place.  Baird's dad, however, hated the joint and always discouraged us from going.

So this morning, before we headed out of town, we stopped by Paul Bunyan's place for breakfast and ate family style on tin plates.  I couldn't resist the cheesy tourist photo opp before we hopped in the car to continue our journey.

Mr. Fix It

Our dining room ceiling fan broke a couple of weeks ago.  Upon further investigation, it became clear we needed a new one.  Baird spent some time today installing it.

Thanks Baird - I love having my own Mr. Fix It!

Independence Day, 2012

Fireworks finale in Warrenville, IL

23

23:  a prime number for a prime marriage

  23 years flies by when you spend it with someone you truly love