Buffalo, as well as Kalamazoo, was on the yearly loops I took through the country.
Buffalo is where I was born and lived until I left for Guatemala in 1981. I still consider it “home” – or at least one of my homes. I had to move quickly to get there because my niece, Sarah, was graduating from high school! (I also had to vacate my campsite at Markin Glen in Kalamazoo, as they only allow you to stay for two weeks, and my two weeks was up.)
I made camp at Evangola State Park, the closest state park to my brother and sister’s houses and I got ready for the Main Event.
We took seats on the old wooden folding chairs. I remember these chairs from my old church when I was growing up.
I wonder how many backsides have graced this chair. It must be millions – or at least hundreds of thousands.
Sarah getting her diploma.
And shaking hands.
And the tolling of the bell after the graduation.
Sarah, the graduate!
Sarah, the graduate and Katie the flautist.
We went out for dinner afterward to celebrate. How did I get to be so short? How did they get to be so beautiful?
We posed for a family photo, including my sister, Amy, her husband, Steve, and my brother, Craig, who I was “helping” get posed. Fun times!
Speaking of fun times, Sarah figured prominently in the fun. We celebrated her birthday.
I guess she’ll be traveling light!
I predict that she’ll be traveling far!
Speaking of celebrating Sarah, we had a pizza party over at Craig’s house.
Bocce’s Pizza, of course! Hmm..I wonder how much it would cost to get one delivered to me here in Kalamazoo?
Katie, Sarah and Nick played cards.
Bella, the new cat, really enjoyed her catnip!
And finally, one last birthday cake.
Congratulations, Sarah! It won’t be long now until we celebrate Katie’s graduation.
I hitched up and figured, “I don’t need no stinking maps!” Well, sure, I had driven home from Chicago hundreds of times – dozens of times, at least. But, maybe I should have consulted the all-knowing apps in my phone.
The traffic was horrendous!
About the only thing good about stop-and-go traffic is that you can safely take photos along the way.
I’ll admit it, I’d just as soon forgo the photos for a little faster trip. I was up by the Wisconsin state line, but still, I was astounded that it took me more than six hours to get to the Kalamazoo. I usually allowed two and half or three hours to make the trip from Chicago to Kalamazoo.
I pulled into the rest stop once I hit Michigan. How cool to see another Airstream in the parking lot!
I returned annually to Kalamazoo. There were doctor appointments to be attended to and friends to see.
Friends like Leigh. We met in the early ’80s in Guatemala. We’re friends of “long standing” as I like to put it. At this point, it sounds better than “old friends.”
Of course, we generally go out to eat, as you can tell by the restroom sign in the background. Neither one of us are what you would call “culinary divas”.
I do have “fancy food friends,” though. Ruth made her famous cream puffs.
We were celebrating LaRue’s birthday. I think cream puffs make a lovely alternative birthday cake. LaRue prefers watermelon for her birthday cake, although I don’t see her refusing the cream puff.
Ruth, LaRue, Stu, Paul and me. Who’s missing?
Oh, yeah. Cindy!
Diane is another of my “fancy food friends.” She had a little gathering for me.
Jan, the art teacher, Dawn, Kindergarten teacher extraordinaire, and Deb, the fantastic dance teacher, all from my days at Woods Lake.
Here’s a group shot. Diane, Linda, Deb, Jan, me and Dawn.
Who’s missing?
Oh, yeah. Diane! Diane on the right is the only one without a Woods Lake connection. Diane on the left and I went to Africa with her on a Fullbright trip back in 2003. Time sure flies!
I also went to a high school graduation party for Heaven, a former student. All grown up!
I even managed to catch up with some friends from out of town who were just passing through.
I saw Jim and Bill the last time I was in Vegas. Vegas, Baby! Jim is another “friend of long standing” from my days in Guatemala.
It wasn’t all visits with friends, though.
I managed to get a ticket for some sort of historical tour of Kalamazoo. Unfortunately, I got there a little late, so I kind of missed the tour. I did see this sweet Airstream bar in the garden of HopCat.
Kalamazoo is just a wonderful place to be! So wonderful, in fact, that I decided to get serious about settling down.
I drew up a list of what I was looking for in a house,
I visited my bank to get pre-approved for a mortgage, and…
I found a house!
I even measured the driveway to make sure that Flo the Airstream would fit. I still wasn’t sure how to go about selling her. I needn’t have worried.
Airstream Addicts is a group I belong to on Facebook. In fact, I am one of the administrators of the group. I had mentioned that I was starting to get ready to sell my Airstream and I had been in communication with Joyce who was looking for her Airstream. It turns out that she and Jeff were driving to Grand Rapids from Philadelphia to see an Airstream in Grand Rapids.
They camped next to me at Markin Glen in their tent. They went up to Grand Rapids to look at a trailer and when they got back, they also looked at Flo. It was hot-hot-hot that day. And humid. Wouldn’t you know it that Flo’s AC took advantage of that time to go out?
Anyway, they took some time and went over Flo. In the morning, Joyce came over and offered to buy her.
Holy moly! From rolling stock to a homeowner in two days!
I really didn’t expect it to all happen so fast! I still had some things to take care of, so we made arrangements for me to take care of the things I had planned and then to drop it off at her house.
It was rather bittersweet when I left Markin Glen for the last time. It was my first campground and my home-away-from-home every time I’d pass through Kalamazoo.
The nearest campground I could find to Lake Forest was Illinois Beach State Park. As I remember, finding the correct entrance was a challenge. There is a day use area and a conference center, in addition to the campground. Even with the wrong turns and never-ending road construction, I eventually got to the office to check in.
It was kind of an oddly run place, but the worker was most accommodating. She said that she didn’t know if the site I had reserved was vacant, but that I could drive around and see what would work for me. She said that not all sites were created equal, and that some of the sites were narrow and far from level.
I took her advice. Truly, the sites were irregular.
There were lovely tree-shaded spots. They had electricity but no water at the sites.
If you were tent camping, these would have been great spots. I was not tent camping.
I decided that I didn’t want to try to dance Flo back between the trees, so I headed for what looked like a parking lot with electrical hook ups. It wasn’t as picturesque, but it would do.
I came across these Airstreams in another part of the park. I passed by several times, but no one was ever there.
The day after I met up with Mary, I set out to enjoy the lake.
I set off on the trail to the beach.
Ah! There’s Lake Michigan coming into view.
What a beautiful day!
Just the smallest amount of wave action. And all those pretty pebbles!
It’s time for a little “Catch and Release” rock collecting.
I enjoy this little hobby of mine.
Look at the remains of the bird footprints in the sand.
After I made a few arrangements and took my photos, it was time for one more look at the lake.
And I headed up toward what must have been a lovely bathhouse at one time.
I wonder how long it had been closed?
I love it when they have these places to get the sand off without taking a full shower.
Nowadays, it was just closed.
Really closed. It must have been a great facility. It really makes me angry when resources are lost because of a lack of maintenance.
Speaking of maintenance, one piece of advice I give full time RVers is to go through your stuff every six months and get rid of what you don’t need. It looks like I haven’t been taking my own advice. But I had the time, so I went through all my stuff and got rid of a bunch of junk.
There was time for one last sunset. In the morning, I would set out for Kalamazoo.
In choosing my route back to Kalamazoo, I made meeting up with my Facebook friend, Mary, a priority.
I got settled in at Illinois Beach State Park and headed to Lake Forest to rendezvous with her for dinner. I got there a little early and decided to look around. There was a quaint little town square in front of the train station where she would be arriving.
The flagpole looked like more than just a way to display the flag. I walked over to investigate.
It was a World War I memorial with a quote from Woodrow Wilson.
Apparently the good people of Lake Forest were right on top of getting this memorial up. The date is 1917.
After strolling around a bit and looking at all the upscale shops – Williams-Sonoma, J.McLaughlin, and Talbots – the overwhelming scent of money got to me and I headed over to the train station to wait.
I waited more or less patiently.
Finally, the train arrived.
Mary got off the train and we were chatting like long-lost friends. After all, we had known each other for years – albeit on Facebook.
After we finished up our dinner, we finally got around to getting our picture taken. You know what they say, “If there’s no photo, it didn’t happen.” You’ll have to take my word that we did eat dinner.
We headed back over to the train station.
There was a bell on a pedestal. You could actually move the lever and ring it.
According to the inscription, this seems to be a suitable memorial for Edward H. Bennett, Jr.
As if the world largest can of beer wasn’t enough excitement for a fairly rural area, just a few miles east of the campground was Dickeyville, and Dickeyville’s claim to fame is the Dickeyville Grotto.
I always thought that a grotto was a cave. It turns out that the definition is a cave, and it is usually a “small picturesque cave, especial and artificial one in a perk or a garden and it can also be an indoor structure resembling a cave.
I parked Bart at the curb and walked over to examine the grotto. Its construction began in 1925 and it was dedicated in 1930.
Father Matthias Wernerus was the man with the vision to build shrines to religion and patriotism in stone. This portion of his handiwork is a shrine dedicated to the Blessed Virgin.
I borrowed this photo from their website. It was dark inside and hard to make a good photo with my phone.
Father Wernerus used whatever he could get in creating the grottos. Sometimes he used rather standard ceramic tiles.
Other times he used shells, glass, corals and rocks.
I particularly like this ring of geodes. I remember my fruitless geode hunt in Arizona.
Ringing the main structure are niches with altars to various saints.
The back of the shrine is covered with the tree of life. On top of the tree of life is spelled out “fortitude.”
Flanking the tree on the right and left are various positive traits.
When I was visiting, I assumed they were the seven virtues. When I was writing up this post, I realized that there were more than seven listed. I went looking for other lists of virtues, to see if Father Wernerus had used them. I found the twelve virtues promoted by Aristotle, but there were thirteen spelled out on the wall. So, I guess these could be called “Father Wernerus’ good ideas.”
On the other hand, when I looked a little harder on the website, I saw that he represented the Seven Gifts and the 12 Fruits of the Holy Ghost on the outside walls. I guess I didn’t look hard enough.
After examining the Shrine of the Blessed Virgin, I headed down the walkway to see the patriotic shrine.
George Washington was at one end.
Abraham Lincoln was at the other end.
Right in the middle was Christopher Columbus.
There was also a Unity Bell. I assume it was to honor the end of the Civil War.
There were other structures scattered about the grounds.
That looks like a birdhouse. I wonder if they even clear out the old nests?
I headed back toward the church. This was really quite an undertaking. I wondered why Father Wernerus began this labor. According to the website, this is his explanation:
“Many reasons urged me to put up ‘Religion in stone and Patriotism in Stone.’ The main reason why it was done I could not reveal. The last day will tell you more about that. I can only say that Almighty God and his Blessed Mother, in whose honor we worked, blessed us in such a way that ‘we built better than we knew.'”
As I headed back to Bart, I noticed this sign:
I went down to take a look and I actually bought something.
After I stuck the 48th state sticker on my map, I had started to think that my full time traveling life was coming to an end.
Buying this roll of cloth let me know that I was ready to settle down.
Just a few miles up the river was the little town of Potosi, one of Wisconsin’s early mining communities. Although it was named after the silver mining city of Potosi in Bolivia, the mineral that came out of the St. John Mine was lead.
It was located on the mouth of the Grant River, which fed into the Mississippi. Although Grant River was no Mississippi, it was a leading shipping port for lead ore and a supplier for the inland miners. The village was incorporated in 1841, and for a time it was one of the largest communities in the Wisconsin Territory. Its early boom was short-lived. By the late 1840s, the port filled with river silt. The California gold rush drew many of the miners away.
In spite of the population and industry decline, Gabriel Hall built the Potosi Brewery in 1852, and it remained an important industry until it finally emptied its tanks for the final time in 1972.
They re-founded the Potosi Brewing Company in 2008, and today they craft their beer in small batches and without compromise, according to their website. They have a brew pub, and lunch was what I was after.
I decided to have a “Good Old Potosi” while I waited.
A big ol’ cheeseburger, a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a beer – how much more “Wisconsin” can you get?
I was pleased to see this in the hallway. Good planning! You can just about hear the arteries slamming shut.
I like the decor in the restroom.
Beer everywhere you look!
And, that makes sense, as this is also the National Brewery Museum. I would have expected it to be in a more populous area, but no, it’s here is quaint little Potosi.
I can’t tell you about the museum, because I was feeling cheap and didn’t want to pay to see it. It was a reasonable fee, I just wasn’t in the mood for a museum on such a bright, sunny day.
I strolled about and noticed the local Masonic Temple.
I am always amazed by how the Masons are in so many small places.
And they have been going on for so long.
Speaking of “so long,” it was about time to head back to Flo.
Oh, were you wondering how large the can of beer was?
I wonder how many backsides have graced this chair. It must be millions – or at least hundreds of thousands.
