Adventure Awaits! – Join Kathi and Ron on Their Northwest Adventure! – Page 4

July 8, 2021August 12, 2021

#4 Trust the Magic . . .

July 2 – Leaving Michigan’s Upper Peninsula is always disappointing, no matter the direction. We traveled the same Highway 2 in Wisconsin, but, well, it was just simply different. Missing were the delightful Waysides we’ve come to love in Michigan. Slowly but surely, the deep green forests dwindled, but one similarity exists in both states: Iron. Iron Mountain, Iron River, Iron County, Ironwood. The rocks are red; the asphalt is red; even the sand is red!

Today, we once again veered from Highway 2 in order to drive the peninsula from Ashland to Superior by way of the lakeshore roads. It was the Apostle Islands we desired to view from shore, but we found no waysides or pull offs or rest areas on the entire east drive past the islands. We did, however, discover a fine spot along a narrow sandy beach on the west side where we lunched in the warm breeze of Lake Superior. I browsed the sandy bottom for the first of my small rock (actually stone) collection and met a couple from a bit further south who had come to enjoy the sun. They were the first couple to whom I gave a copy of my book. I prayed for them as we drove away. The world is full of nice people, and we get to meet some along the way!

At the base of the peninsula, we crossed the state line, entering Duluth, Minnesota. What a beautiful city it is! Again, we traveled the shoreline north, but contrasting the Wisconsin peninsula, observing an abundance of beautiful homes, large and small, of cottages and pull offs to view the big lake from rocky cliffs. I should have liked to have driven for hours and to have stopped at marina cafes and restaurants along the way, but we turned west toward a small campground in Saginaw – Minnesota, that is – not Michigan. Click here to read my post about staying at the Saginaw Campground.

July 3

The morning was already quite warm as we prepared to leave the little Saginaw Campground. While Ron checked connections and adjusted the sway bar, I conversed with two couples, tent camping nearby. Frequent campers, it was nonetheless their first overnight at this campground. They shared the story of their restless night (click here to read the post). These couples were common everyday people, about the ages of Ron and me, and I enjoyed meeting them. These were the second people to whom I gave my book. Again, as we pulled out of this campground, we asked the Lord to use that book for His glory.

It was a beautiful drive across the short stretch from Saginaw, Minnesota to Itasca State Park, south of Bemidji, Minnesota. This state park reminded us of those in northern Michigan – woodsy! Now the day was hot. Very hot! Ron was more than a bit flustered when we discovered our reserved, designated campsite. Evidently a site for tent camping, it had no electric or water hookups, was not large enough for both our trailer and pickup, and in looking at the road and trees, Ron doubted he could actually back the trailer in to this site. This site was located in a stifling low spot without any breeze whatsoever. By this time, it was 90◦ Visions of a hot sleepless night entered my mind. Why did I ever book this site, I wondered. But I had. This is where cell phones come in so handy. A quick call to the Minnesota State Park office and a short drive back to the camping check-in cabin confirmed one available electric and water site for the night. One. And on this busy holiday weekend! Site 73E was on the ridge, overlooking beautiful Lake Itasca! It was not the first time the Lord had graciously “upgraded” us, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. He is an Amazing God.

As soon as we got set up, we started our hike, as this afternoon was our only time to visit the spot we had come to see: the Headwaters of the Mississippi River. The trail was smooth, thank goodness, as it was long.

In time, we reached our destination and I celebrated our accomplishment by wading the headwaters.

I dropped a shoe and a sock in the water but didn’t really mind, as I discovered it to be somewhat refreshing for the nearly 4 mile hike back. We were a bit out of shape to undertake a long trek on a hot day such as this, and I was a overly exhausted when I climbed onto that memory foam topper later, but once sleep came, it was good, and the Minnesota breeze refreshed us that night, calling us to venture yet further west.

Click here to read Post #5 America the Beautiful

July 7, 2021August 12, 2021

#3 My Pink Earplugs

We packed plenty of warm clothes for this trip to the northwest: jeans, sweaters, flannel shirts, fleece lined hoodies. We’d read of warm mornings at the campsite but cool temps in the mountains. Within the week before the trip, we began to observe different weather reports in the areas we planned to visit: a heat wave was taking place in Oregon, Washington, and Montana! My weather app showed 101° in Havre, Montana, a location where we planned on perching at a Walmart parking lot for the night. Knowing we wouldn’t have overnight electricity for even so much as our little fan, Ron said, “Kathi, find us a campsite in Havre.” The Lord quickly supplied. I made a call and encountered a friendly voice on the other end, just as I had so many times previously, in planning the trip. I’ve discovered a multitude of friendly people across this vast northwest we will be traveling! And I’ve discovered overnight availability when I least expected it.

Due to the expected heat wave we would be driving into, I realized that we just might have to turn on that atrocious AC in that little travel trailer of ours. I refer to it as atrocious because although occasionally necessary, as it very well might be on this journey, I don’t like it. I don’t like the door and windows closed, blocking the fresh air and open view. I don’t like the loud noise of the unit right above our heads, in the middle of our cute little home away from home. But, should high temps prevail at night, although atrocious, it might be a relief. Thus the earplugs.

After learning of the heat wave, hoping to block the sound of AC, I purchased pink earplugs, perfect for a woman’s ear, so they say.

We’re into the fifth day of our trip now, and the nights have cooled just enough that we didn’t need the atrocious AC, but the earplugs did come in handy. Let me explain why.

Late Friday, we pulled into a small country campground, just past Duluth on Highway 2. It was clean and tidy and offered full hook ups and internet! This is great, we thought. We had just gotten set up when we heard the rumble. We first assumed there was a busy highway behind us which we hadn’t noticed, but the loonngg whistle soon gave it away. Yes, a train track was just a short distance behind the campground. Ron, hopeful, said, “I don’t think the trains will run at night.”

Ha!

In the morning, nearby campers spoke of trains running through every twenty minutes or so. Whistles blew often, they said. All. Through. The. Night. Ron, exhausted from work and driving many hours, had slept through it all. I did, too. But only because of my pink earplugs!

If you attended Sunday School when you were a kid, you might remember singing a song with the lyric, “Be careful little eyes what you see. . .”

The second stanza is similar:

“Oh, be careful little ears what you hear;

Be careful little ears what you hear;

for the Father up above

is looking down in love,

so be careful little ears what you hear.

It might be a children’s song, but it’s based on teaching from the Bible, so it’s a message for all ages: We must be careful what we hear.

Sometimes we need to wear our pink earplugs.

The Father is “looking down” – not to judge us but to help us. He knows the danger to us if or when we listen to what we should not. He tells us it is a danger that affects our faith.

He’s given us His Word to teach us in order to protect us and in order to bless us. That’s His desire for us. Abundant life. And in that Word, He instructs us of certain things we should not continue to hear. We’re familiar with many of these things: gossip, negativity; however, in my recent studies, I’ve noticed a continual and strong message given throughout the whole Bible – a warning about some things to which, when we listen, we can gradually and easily become desensitized to the dangers. (The enemy, Satan, just loves it when we become desensitized to those things God desires.)

The Lord tells us not to listen to mediums, sorcerers, and fortune tellers, but He doesn’t stop there. He warns us not to listen to what some people teach – some who claim to be prophets – some who claim to be wise – some who claim to have the answers. He tells us that these people speak ideas of vanity (the importance of self), they speak ideas from their own minds, not from the mouth of the Lord. He says that some of these people claim to teach in the His Name, but He makes it clear – their teaching is not from Him. The Lord did not send them.

Sound familiar today? I see it constantly on social media. It is more than subliminal in movies and television shows. Constant little tidbits of teaching that initially might sound spiritually okay but isn’t. It’s hurting us, and God knows it. He says we must plug our ears to it.

He warns us that our family or close friends might be listening to these tidbits of false teaching. But He says we must not listen to it – even if they encourage it. Wow! This is serious business. The train is rumbling.

Jesus tells us to consider carefully what we hear. Tells us it measures our faith. The Apostle Paul teaches that many people who appear to be Christians actually teach false doctrines and endless controversies instead of doing God’s work. He says they’ve wandered away from the truth to meaningless talk. He instructs the Church to deal with them and to command them to change. It’s important to the Church. It’s important to the Lord. The train whistle is blowing.

It’s God to whom we must listen, and we hear Him in His Word. The closer we listen, the more understanding we will be given. In fact, we’ll just keep receiving more understanding, the Word says. It stands to reason that when we’re listening to falsehoods, the more falsehoods will fill our minds, but when we’re listening to the Word, the more truth will fill us.

We are not under law. God does not force us to listen to Him. But we believers recognize His voice. It is the voice of the Shepherd. And we want to hear Him above other voices.

The rumbling is all around us. The warning signals are given. The train whistle is blowing. I need to use my pink earplugs to block it out.

~~~~~

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#1 The North Begins at Clare

My Dad might have said it – or my mom – or my Grandpa – or an aunt or uncle. Someone always said it as we went “up north” to Grandpa’s cabin in L’Anse of the Upper Peninsula: “The North begins at Clare.”

All these years later, each time I travel a lengthy distance in that direction, I look for the beginning of the north. And I always find it.

Today, we leave our home in lower Michigan near the cuff of the mitten, and we head North. Pulling our travel trailer, Ron drives steady but slow enough to take it all in as I search for the North. For hours, we drive past farms – on both the east and the west sides of our highway. Today, an Amish farmer is cultivating his corn field. Big old barns dot the countryside amidst green fields of corn and beans and an occasional golden wheat. Many things remain the same as all those years ago, but several things differ. Instead of driving two-lane US 27, we now drive four-lane US 127 and I-75. The speed limit, once probably 50 mph is now 75 mph! Gone are the small picnic table pull-offs or an occasional small roadside park with a water fountain and pit toilets. In their places are lovely large Rest Areas, spaced 30-40 miles apart, marked on both the map and the wayside signs. Miles and miles of white metal windmills now intersperse the landscape like alien landing signals. This countryside mural continues through the Mt. Pleasant area, but once we reach Clare, the north begins, its seeds and its roots unchanging from those many years ago – even from centuries ago. This is where I find it – again!

“The North” opens the door to a different world – one in which a person can go back in time, at least as far as I want to go. The four-lane eventually angles toward Sault Ste. Marie and on into Canada, but we have turned west onto Highway 2, the road we will travel for 2000 miles, the road that will take us along the edges of Great Lakes Michigan and Superior, across the Northern Great Plains, and into the mountains of the Great Continental Divide. The road that keeps us in the north.

I want to see original old log cabins and worn-sided barns.

I want to see wooden placards along the way, designed and placed by the Conservation Corps and maintained through the years in their original form, welcoming me to the National Forests, to the headwaters of the Mississippi River in Itasca, North Dakota, or to Yellowstone National Park.

I want to unfurl a red-checkered tablecloth across a wooden picnic table or spread an Indian blanket on the grass and eat sandwiches and drink cokes with Ron.

I want to hike the steeps of a shady forest to the cliff of the mountain and look down into a valley covered in wildflowers.

And it’s all possible . . .

. . . because, you see, “the North begins at Clare.”

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Click here to read the next post, #2 Where You Go, I Will Go