Christian Author and Speaker
Ron was hoping to see ranches, but Texas is a BIG state and there weren’t very many ranches this far north, in the panhandle. We did see a few, and I was fascinated with their old windmills.. catching pics of all I could see along the road.
You never know what to expect driving I-40, Route 66 – the Mother Road.
When we left Needles, California on that beautiful morning ( see my last post) of course we entered Arizona immediately. Desert all the way.
Daddy bought a new Kodak 3 mm in 1955, so my family, including my brother and sister, inherited a plethora of photos, most preserved in slide format. Some years ago, I transferred these slides to digital form, saving them on disks for my family. I’m nostalgic, to say the least. I thrive in a mid-century décor shop. Program my TV to record 40’s and 50’s movies on Turner Classic. So when I view those digital photos or browse through my mother’s photo albums, I seem to “go back in time.” And I love it!
When I was a teenager, I had a clock radio much like the one pictured. Mine had a “snooze” button on top, which I used a lot! An analog clock is rarely used today, is it? Instead, nowadays we most often look at the digital clocks on our dashboards, ovens, and especially on our phones. Occasionally, when Ron and I are driving, we cross a time zone line, and one or both of our cell phones doesn’t “catch up!” That is confusing. Well, something similar happened to us during our time camping in the Porkies.
I had looked at photos and articles in the brochures, pamphlets, and travel guides of the park, considering which sites Ron and I might want to see. Much to my distress, one article had a photo of a bat, which I immediately covered up by folding the corner of the paper over it.
Contrary to the report on Ron’s weather app, the sun was shining today, so we drove up the mountain, 1000 feet above Lake Superior to the “Lake of the Clouds.”
The Porcupine Mountains in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, are unbelievably remote. Our campsite is at the Northeast tip of this huge state park;
Ron and I have a passion for waterfalls, so today we made plans to see five waterfalls in surrounding areas outside this huge park. We marked them on our map, set our gps for directions, and headed toward Ironwood on the Wisconsin border. Our goal: five waterfalls.
We saw one.
The dull but busy road we encountered yesterday in the Lower Peninsula (click here to read Post 1) changed to an unusually quiet stretch of lonesome highway as we crossed the large bridge and headed west, chasing the sun in its setting hours. It was like we had traveled some decades back in time.
Today’s highway is paved, flat, barren, and ugly, but adequate and necessary, nonetheless, for our purpose of journey – to pull our little “home away from home,” headed north to our destination, yet 600 miles away. The eyes of my driver, the man I’ve journeyed with nearly 50 years must scan the road, follow the lanes, obeying the signage and lineage. I choose to observe the landscape – instead of the road.