First order of business: if you emailed me today and I did not reply, please email me again (or text or whatever). I was away from email for long enough today that several hundred spam messages filled up my box and I went out to webmail, did a quick scan and then a delete all. I hope I didn’t miss anything. Most people who know me well use text messaging to contact me nowadays but there are some folks I care about who don’t use text messaging for their own personal reasons. That’s cool with me. I just don’t want to miss your messages!
Yikes! I hate hate hate hate to travel on Labor Day weekend. Especially when the destination is in the yooperland and the only way back to troll-land from the yooperland is via the Mackinac Bridge. Why? Because Labor Day is the ONE day out of the year when people are allowed to WALK the bridge. That is a good thing but it totally hoses up traffic, sometimes for hours. No, I have never walked the Mackinac Bridge. Despite my reputation as one of those nuts who walks umpteen bazillion miles a day, I have never walked the bridge. I don’t have a blasted bucket list but if I did, walking the Mackinac Bridge would be on it. (The reason I did travel to the yooperland this Labor Day is because my children could both be there and some of my beloved cuzzints would be next door.)
Today might have been an interesting day to walk the bridge. As Liz and I were driving out the cabin road (me in the Ninja and Liz in whatever she calls her cute little Civic), I heard (or thought I heard) on NPR that there were high winds on the bridge and drivers were supposed to slow down to 20 mph (yes) and put their flashers on. Aaaannnnddd… Stay in the outside lane, the one where there isn’t an open metal grid underneath (if you are not driving (or even if you are, I suppose), you can open your window, look down, and see water far below). It was very very very windy in the Great Gray Green Greasy Limpopo North today and I actually felt a little nervous about that. I also couldn’t figure out how that kind of weather / traffic situation would work out with all of those walkers on the bridge. When we got there, the lucky-shuckial sign said “All clear. Drive carefully.” Okay. I will.
Slowdowns today? Yes. US2 in St. Ignace (where we got gas) was a mess. The bridge was clear until about the last third. We left the bridge on the southbound side just as the last walkers were approaching the finish line. Vanderbilt slowdown. Somewhere north of Grayling but can’t remember where. Standish through Bay City — this was actually posted on the big lucky-shuckial sign near Grayling. I called Lizard at the last possible moment as we were inching along right next to the Standish exit and suggested we bail and take M13. That was a go and we missed a big stretch of RED (via Google Maps) on the I75 SUV Speedway. Zilwaukee Bridge but that’s typical for that area. What else? Flint area had some slowdowns and I hit a couple of small ones after we split, Liz to Daytwa and me to The Planet. I realize this is all gobblety-gook to anyone who isn’t intimately familiar with Great Lake State geography. Actually it’s kind of gobblety-gook to me too. Where did I have to hit my brakes? How many times? I dunno. I just know that I am dun dun dun driving for the day.
But I did have to make one more trip after I got home. My ETA was later than I like to get home after a trip and, as I approached The Planet, I tried to remember if there was ORANGE JUICE in my refrigerator and, if so, HOW MUCH??? The answer turned out to be NOT ENOUGH FOR TOMORROW MORNING. I actually got into the Ninja AGAIN and DROVE over to the Plum Market to buy orange juice and a couple other necessities. I usually walk over there but I was kind of done for the day…
I texted “A2″ to my fam when I got home. I was happy to get Liz’s “Whole Foods Detroit” text as well as some earlier texts indicating that the Lyme Lounge and its occupants were happily ensconced in a campsite at
Trout Soldier Lake. With blueberries and moe-skee-toe bites and, by this time of night a wee bit of bourbon, I’m sure.