107: carriage house, brown and hard, do you snore?, fishtown, dry hydrant, romantic walk, brain rock, fish bones, waterbike, missed opportunity

August 12, 2025

Leland

When I arrived yesterday I couldn't believe what a wonderful place this Warm Showers location is. I'm staying in "The Carriage House," which is separate from the two main houses, and am extremely happy that Steve and Pat told me about it.

For some reason I didn't take a picture of the downstairs living room, so instead you get a picture of an antique puzzle from the shelf.

Kari was here when I arrived yesterday, but left this morning. She took a rest day yesterday from her solo West Coast to East Coast ride.

Brown, and hard - that's how I think of her... the kind of person in which if, for some reason I lost all my senses and challenged her to an armwrestling contest, I'd end up in the Emergency Department with a dislocated shoulder, in spite of the fact that we're the same age. She rode 200 miles in 24 hours when she was 55, and rode 130 on this trip (although she downplayed it: "I had a tailwind and a smooth road in Montana"). I, too, rode 200 miles when I was 55, but it took me the entire year to do it.

When she met someone along the way who asked her "Your husband let you stay gone that long?" she was able to prevent herself from punching him in the face, inwardly rolling her eyes instead.

Professionally, she teaches parasailing in California, and enjoys it, but has no patience with computers and had trouble using RideWithGPS. She doesn't understand how a person can linger using any electronics for, say, more than about fifteen seconds.

She slept in the large bed upstairs, and I slept in the twin.

Before turning in, she asked: "Do you snore?"

When I responded that I don't, she said that she snores, then quickly added:

"But not like [here she opened her mouth and made a sound as if she had the worst sinus infection in the history of humanity and was coughing up a 12-lb hairball - the kind of hairball in which, if expelled, would eat through concrete, or crawl away].

This morning we said our good-byes, and she pedaled off just as it started sprinkling.

It rained all morning, and was a great day for a rest day.

Leland (pop 352) is regionally famous for its historic fishing village called "Fishtown" with ancient fish shanties, wooden docks, and fishing boats. It’s one of the few surviving examples of a Great Lakes commercial fishing village and tourists arrive in schools like the fish that used to be in these waters.

There was such a contrast between where I was staying at the other end of town, peaceful and quiet, and the historic district where hoards of tourists bumped shoulders like the steel ball in a game of pinball.

There were several places to eat, and the tourists lined up to empty their pockets. This is one of those areas where they don't even post the cost of anything because if you can afford to vacation here, then a $247.00 sandwich doesn't matter. [note: this author has been known to exaggerate a slight bit on occasion]

I wonder how well this dry hydrant would work on putting out my dry humor.

By afternoon the skies had cleared so I walked back over to the sand and surf....

....for a long, romantic walk along the beach, minus the romance.

This rock, sitting alone in the shallow water, was unlike any other stone in the area. There's no perspective, but it's larger than a car tire.

This is what all of the others look like.

The pontoons on this waterbike are inflatable.

Heather texted me today: "You are not going to believe this. Peter said he was reading your blog and you posted a picture of his aunt while you were in DC!!!!"

She then waited an appropriate amount of time, about 3.2 seconds, and when I didn't immediately respond, and in an adequately shocked manner (as in, using all caps with numerous exclamation marks: "OH MY GOD!!! NO WAY!!!), she called me.

"Don't you realize how weird that is?!? Peter took a screenshot of the page and sent it to her. 'Is this you?' It WAS!"

To be honest, I was shocked, but not for the reason she was thinking. The first thing that went through my mind was, "What?!?! Someone I didn't know about is actually reading my blog?? OH MY GOD!!! NO WAY!!!"

It is true: the odds of me photographing a relative who happens to be reading it is extremely random because I would guess that, at most, there are about ten to twelve people who read my blog on a regular basis. Some people drift in and out, I'm sure, but for the most part I think that's fairly accurate.

But my other thought on the subject is that Peter really missed a golden opportunity. When he sent her the picture asking "Is this you?" and she said yes, at that point the best thing to do would've been to wait at least a full two minutes, even if (especially if) she said "Who took that??" then typed:

"I think someone is stalking you."

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Steve Miller/GrampiesWaaah!. You mean there are 8 or 9 OTHER people who read your blog every day besides us? And,, presumably Heather?
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4 months ago

Mark BinghamTo Steve Miller/GrampiesMaaaaaaybe 8 or 9, but not Heather. Her standards are too high. :-)
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4 months ago

Karen PoretThanks from your peanut gallery, Mark..😲
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4 months ago

Bill ShaneyfeltSome of us are erratic, but we follow when not required to be busy elsewhere (like my 4-14 Sep trip to BWCAW) Gonna take days to catch up now! Glad to be part of the tiny crew being so well entertained by your musings.
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4 months ago