Reality Check Tour 2022: Quebec City, Ottawa, Trout Lake, & Milwaukee
Small towns, family-owned/operated motels/restaurants, and fire pits by the lake where strangers meet -and then leave more enriched than when they came. Juxtaposed to expensive, impersonal, posh, and sanitized Interstate fare, which "reality" do I prefer? A rhetorical question.
Somehow, existentially, I have come to think the increasingly commercial de-personalization of our culture is the culprit for much of our collective malady. It is hard for an "individual" to "break through" the wall, and we feel powerless to effect change. As a result, we form opinions based on what attracts us to our passions, without any grounding in education and history. As Kierkegaard said, the public space, and public morality, is an abstraction: ripe for incessant manipulative marketing. The solution, as expressed by Aristotle, is: a happy virtuous life is only achieved by a good upbringing. The responsibility is on parents.
The bar inside the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac, Quebec City, Canada.
The Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac from the courtyard in front of the entrance.
A very expensive hotel in the "Old City". It was very posh, the bar drinks were crafted by expert mixologists and, yet the whole experience of the hotel was impersonal.
A tranquil park in Old City, Quebec City.
Dinner at Bello, eating a great salad and linguini with two French speaking women. The women with the hat did not speak English, and the other women acted as translator.
I traveled from Quebec City to Ottawa (a not very nice big city with heavy traffic) via Montreal. The weird thing was that I had to drive hours south to get to Ottawa. When I think of Canada, I think of it as far north in the hinterlands. It was just a strange perspective to drive south to what I had previously thought of as the North Pole.
From an uneventful Ottawa experience, I traveled to Sudbury, Ontario; a nice modern midsized town with all the amenities. The outdoor lifestyle was its draw. I then had a 4 hour drive to the US boarder at Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan (Upper Peninsula - UP). What was about to transpire became my very favorite part of the tour thus far - it defined the very essence of what I value the most in a tour.
To "plan" or to be directed by "chance". Chance led me to the Historic Birch Lodge on Lake Trout, MI on the UP. I had planned on staying at the White Tail Inn - but when I saw it, in Brevort, MI, there was no way I was staying there (it was rundown, right on main highway). So, I pulled out the cell phone and found the Lodge 23 miles away (I had to backtrack - which I do not like doing). I entered the Lodge area on a dirt road, over railroad tracks, and ended up at this historic spot:
Jim and his wife acquired the large property about 6 years ago, and totally renovated the building. I then met a family (husband, wife, and two teenage girls) who had immigrated from India, The father, I later learned, is a neurologist in Grand Rapids, MI. The older daughter brought a guitar on the trip, and the girls sang on the front porch of the Lodge:
A gathering around the fire pit. A Iran War vet and his wife, with the good doctor and his family.
For dinner, I drove to the Buckhorn restaurant and bar. I met Mike who informed me that the wolf population was on the rise and killing a lot of deer. The presence of deer has been my biggest fear out on the road. My fears subsided a little bit by the news.
The Buckhorn was a blast from the past where locals to gather and enjoy off the smoker pulled pork, ribs, and prime rib. Happy children with parents adding to the joy of the place. I also happened to stop, on the way to Milwaukee, in Gladstone, MI (UP), for breakfast at the Delona Restaurant, where Amber (15 years old) and Sam (16 years old) served me up steak and eggs. The upbeat wholesomeness and confidence made me think of "Happy Days" - a cocoon protected from the harshness of life.
I arrived in Milwaukee to the news of the 4th of July mass shooting in Highland Park, IL. Not only are these shootings a great human tragedy, but also an affront to our continued existence on the planet. A walled-in existence leading to mental illness, attacking the awe of individual worth and goodness. So, when I finally saw my first grandchild, Kennedy, I held her as if the world depended upon it:
In Milwaukee for a few days before the trek west. Watching where where the winds are blowing.
Comments
Post a Comment