Virtual vacation, Day 11: foibles & fumbles

Hitting the road again makes me feel good, even if I’ve enjoyed where I’ve been staying. That Grand Rapids provided a couple of days where I didn’t feel so good only made it a little bit sweeter (even if it wasn’t GR’s fault). We loaded Mr. Lincoln with our spare luggage–one airline carryon works well for two weeks, especially if you pack shoes in a separate duffel–then retrieved 15-20 ice packs the hotel graciously froze for us. Distributed over three ice chests containing a sampling from Beer City U.S.A., these packs would keep things cool for the five days remaining…we hoped.

One week later, we pointed Mr. Lincoln back to Lansing specifically to stop by Lansing Brewing Company. LBC drew me back because of a style of beer I had not known before, amber cream ale. A nuanced difference, surely, since a cream ale mimics a lager and an amber version therefore drinks similarly to any Vienna lager such as Samuel Adams Traditional Lager, Devil’s Backbone Vienna Lager, or many, many others. Subtly different though, being an ale not a lager. Additionally, on Day 4 LBC had offered an English Pale Ale (Wayfaring Stranger) which nailed the style perfectly. I’d brought an empty growler along for just such a discovery! We serendipitously left such that we would arrive just as the brewpub opened at 11:30. At 11:32 we entered, growler in hand, to discover the staff had waited until then to clean the beer lines for all the special beers poured “in the back”. A 30-minute wait. What was there to do but drink a couple of lunchtime pints?

My wife, lovely hand model, displays an LBC Amber Cream Ale. Lansing, MI, July 2023.

Beer lines cleaned and dispensing, we grabbed a case of the amber cream ale, some pilsners, and a growler of the Wayfaring Stranger, then headed toward an Audubon Society bird sanctuary about 45-60 minutes away. The Haehnle Bird Sanctuary undoubtedly has much to recommend it, and I would like to do so except for one thing: when you show up with a pint of beer accumulating in your bladder, a restroom of any sort–heck, a reeking port-a-potty would have been okay–proves a formidable barrier. As a man, I had no issues with finding a sheltered spot behind a tree, but such would not do for my wife, and we left minutes after our arrival.

Our drive to Cleveland proceeded uneventfully, as interstate drives usually do. The highest form of drama occurred when the Google Nav quit talking to me. Negotiating freeway-to-freeway maneuvers in greater Cleveland were made much more difficult needing to read the directions on the phone. Our hotel, one block from Progressive Field, seemed to be situated in a….less than desirable section of town. To be fair, we eventually walked entirely through the downtown area, and I didn’t see much more to recommend any other part of central Cleveland. Perhaps a few tax dollars directed toward repairing the potholes in the sidewalks?

We attempted dinner at a restaurant which looked promising…on the web. It seemed a bit skanky when we got there, and when the waitress obviously didn’t know anything about beer–and the restaurant had little to offer either–we headed to a Southern Tier brewpub a block away. (Yeah, it wasn’t local, but we didn’t care.) We returned to the hotel by way of this historic cemetery.

Erie Street Cemetery, Cleveland, OH. July 2023.

It had been a short day of whimsical weirdness, but not bad overall. Travelers need days where nothing goes quite according to plan, yet the day ends well anyway.

Virtual vacation, Days 6-10

Our first five days of vacationing to Michigan delivered exactly what we’d been seeking: easy, relaxing times in places new to us. Only our drive northward through the state had disappointed. We looked forward to the end of our first week and what would come after. After one of the weirdest “Continental” breakfasts I’ve ever seen in an hotel–boiled ham slices swimming in 4-5 inches of water?–we headed west and south, giving the state a chance to erase the boredom of Day 4’s drive from Lansing to Mackinaw City; but…it was not to be. Cloudy weather dogged us most of the day. Road detours abounded, not refreshing hey-look-at-this-off-the-route sight, but more a geez-what-a-crappy-road type of thing.

Not surprisingly for a Friday, tourists clogged the more popular destinations on Lake Michigan. More surprisingly, we seldom could see Lake Michigan even when the map said we ought to be able to heave a stone into it if we threw it to the west. Worse, I couldn’t find coffee–the breakfast offering had been abysmal, and I desperately needed a cuppa. Dark blue-gray clouds threatened a massive storm which we somehow avoided with an end-run around them. Things started to look up in Traverse City. We turned off the main route, and in quick order found MiddleCoast Brewing just around the block–my inner beer compass continues to function eerily well. We thoroughly enjoyed French-style sandwiches and a pint. The way-too-heavy meal stuck with us all the way to Grand Rapids, a.k.a. Beer City USA.

It’s time we reveal a poorly kept secret: I’m a beerhound. I’ll detail my long history with beer another time. It’s enough today to acknowledge my on again/off again streaks of brewing beer at home over 15 years, the refrigerator purchase ten years ago for the sole purpose of holding more than 12-24 bottles of beer, and that when I packed our car for this trip I put the suitcases in the back seat of Mr. Lincoln because the three ice chests in the rear of the vehicle precluded putting the luggage back there! In discussing the itinerary of the vacation which had to be reoriented twice, I was left with the question, “what do we do after two or three days in Grand Rapids?” It didn’t seem like the one to two days left could be put to good purpose by visiting greater Detroit (sorry, CIMPLE), when it finally hit me about the same time as my wife: just stay in GR. Visit more breweries. See more sights. LRR.

Saturday, Day 7, we drove meanderingly into central GR, aborted the idea of trying to get to Belknap Lookout in Belknap Park when we saw about a thousand Goths all lined up to get into some concert/event there, spent about 30-45 minutes trying to find a place to park, then began an aimless trek from sight to sight. GR has retained many of its old brick buildings to its credit. However, its modern architecture, while striking, jars the eye as one looks past a 19th-century church. Not having recovered from the previous day’s food, (or perhaps from having killed a growler purchased in Mackinaw City), I spent this day in shaky fashion. I took only a few photos, and we stopped a couple of times to “refresh” ourselves: first, at the Brick and Porter then at Grand Rapids Brewing Company. Dinner? Overpriced and gimmicky–I won’t mention the firm’s name.

The ubiquitous, elusive frogs of Calvin Ecosystem Preserve & Native Gardens, Grand Rapids, MI. July 2023.

Our worship Sunday morning occurred at the Calvin Ecosystem Preserve & Native Gardens just up the road a bit from our hotel. Calvin University is a Christian school more than 125 years old, founded as a theological seminary. These frogs were amazingly frustrating. We could hear them everywhere from the moment we walked by the first pond, but we couldn’t see any. We heard them arepeatedly on our walk. Finally, we stopped where the path went over a very small creek, relaxed, spent some time, focused, and there they were! Everywhere. Everywhere! Just in this one small area were at least two dozen. They sounded like a belch crossed with a bullfrog’s deep ba-rumph.

Having fulfilled our quota of tourist-y activities, we repaired to Mitten Brewing Company for a few tastes, then srove to the outskirts of GR to Perrin’s brewery. The latter introduced me to the black ale style, a very nice discovery. We ended at Brass Ring for some of the best versions of English-style ales I’ve enjoyed and traditional English pub fare. Unfortunately, something didn’t agree with me–likely the food–and I spent more than half of Monday in bed. Our truncated day followed in similarly disappointing fashion. Not having learned our lesson on Friday, we drove west on a boring state highway hoping to catch a few sights of Lake Michigan, but all we saw were resort houses and buffer zones of trees. Topping it off, we drove to Holland expressly to visit the New Holland Brewing Company which Google told us was open on Mondays. It is…to people who have business to discuss with the brewery. To the casual beer drinker, however, they are not open, referring them to one of several brewpubs. One was back in Grand Rapids. Of course.

We put a feeble but valiant effort in at the end of the afternoon, visiting Brewery Vivant and stopping by Harmony Brewing only to walk out again due to the weird vibes and poor customer service. You know it’s been a poor day when dinner at the hotel sounds like a good idea. At least the food was decent, and the service was even better.

Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park, Grand Rapids, MI. July 2023.

Our last day in Grand Rapids ended well. Just a few miles up the road from our hotel we visited the Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park. A huge, impressive site: though we spent two to three hours there, we never saw much of the sculpture. We decided to focus on the nature and see the sculpture another day. I’m going to reserve most photos to appear later, but here are a few:

Mute swan, Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park, Grand Rapids, MI. July 2023.

Japanese tea garden, Fredrik Meijer Gardens and Sculpture Park, Grand Rapids, MI. July 2023.

After this lovely start to the day, we took pause before heading out to a large beverage store. Our trips to local establishments had proven disappointing when it came to “collecting specimens”; this trip more than filled our three coolers. Beers from all over Michigan were in the cart, as well as a few from Indiana and Illinois, plus a couple breweries which don’t distribute to North Carolina (or do so minimally)–North Coast Brewing from California and Alaskan from Juneau, AK. A refined dinner at Cooper’s Hawk Winery and Restaurant capped a delightful day.

Virtual vacation, Days 2 & 3

Our virtual vacation continues. Day 1 is here.

I already summarized Day 2 on the evening it occurred. Our newest National Park outdid itself to interest the casual tourists; we’re excited about visiting many more times to those parts of the park we couldn’t get to. Most of the park (and indeed the state of West Virginia) appeal to the outdoorsy person but I’m an indoorsy person. I’ve been such all my life. As a teenager I might reluctantly put down the book I’d been reading most of the day when the neighborhood guys came around recruiting for a pickup game of football. As a college student I spent many hours biking (freshman) and canoeing (senior), but generally, if you just put a book in my hands, a glass of something handy, and I’d be fine. Indeed, one of the best parts about teaching junior high occurred when I’d arrive home around 4 p.m., pour a beer, light up a cigar, and settle into a chair outdoors, book in hand. West Virginia and New River Gorge N. P. offer a lot to the outdoorsy person. For me, it’s attractions are historical sites, nature, minor hiking, and the general scenery of a mountainous area.

As we left the park and stopped to check our directions, I learned a little about about baseball. I’m a moderately obsessed fan, but baseball grew up with our country unlike other sports here and has deep roots in much of Americana. Who knew that in the middle of semi-nowhere the Cincinnati Reds played an exhibition game?

Historical marker in Glen Jean, WV. July 2023.

Day 2 ended in Cincinnati, adding some serendipity to seeing the marker above. (And 50-cents for admission?! “They must think we’re rich!”) Arriving in Cincy, the calendar thwarted our dinner plan: the Jamaican restaurant Island Frydays didn’t open on Mondays. Instead we walked a couple blocks to a combo Indian and Ethiopian restaurant, two cuisines I never would imagine under the same roof. I felt some trepidation at the Ethiopian offerings (as did my wife); we stayed with the curries and attempted to educate the waitress about beers.

Day 3 offered the discovered joys only a road trip can bring. I noticed that US highway 127 paralleled I-75 but 20-some miles to the west of it. Traveling interstates seems to be not much different than surface highways, except for the continual slowing down and stopping demanded by the latter. In actuality they exist worlds apart. By their nature, interstates isolate you from what you travel past. The insulating nature of “limited access” soon numbs the driver from venturing off the concrete until his gas tank or stomach or kidneys demand it. Foliage, buildings, signs, people are all pushed back from the margins of the traveled road. Sights become the background bit players to the star: the interstate itself.

By contrast, traveling on any other highway surprisingly delights. Though it seems to travel the same route through the same countryside, it does so with panache, familiarity that borders on intimacy with its surroundings, and a deference to the towns which lie along its path. Unlike the interstate, the humble highway goes out of its way to connect town after town rather than pass them by and forcing them to grow strip malls and ‘satellite business districts’ along its path to fill the coffers of the local businesses. We had a lovely day to travel. Temperatures were in the mid-80s, the blue skies sported a few scattered clouds, and we were in no hurry to get to our destination (Lansing). It’s rare to find one highway which connects your departure with your destination; we made the most of it, stopping at will but mostly just admiring the fields, the architecture of the houses, the peculiarities each town develops over time, the crops which differed from North Carolina (or Pennsylvania or Washington), and those little things appealing only to us such as how the soundtrack from my digital audio player seemed to curate the sights taken in by our eyes.

We left greater Cincy through the Mt Healthy incorporated limits, provoking a few chuckles. North of Dayton (which we avoided on US-127) we skirted the shore of Grand Lake and encountered Celina, the seat of Mercer County, population about 11,000. Traveling a minor detour in town, I suddenly espied sacred architecture. Instinctively, I turned left. One block off our route stood this church:

Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception Catholic Church, Celina, OH. July 2023.

After minor research I’m still uncertain why this is a cathedral as it seems not to be a diocesan center of worship. No matter–its beauty stands on its own. How or why such a marvelous church came to exist in such a small community will have to wait for another day.

Interior, Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, Celina, OH. July 2023.

We were not alone in our admiration. Another visiting couple (retired also, I surmised) came out of the cathedral and urged us to go inside. I’m not sure we would have done so otherwise. Tuesday? When no one seemed to be around? We were overwhelmed. I said a brief prayer, and thanked the local clergy for leaving the building open so that I could use its bathroom.

Our day continued in the same manner, but became more mundane as we entered Michigan. The weather had turned to overcast, and we worriedly looked northward to blue-black clouds as we skirted Jackson. All the ills of interstates visited us when US-127 became limited access also. (A sad feature which returned to plague us on Day 4.) Driving into Lansing brought mostly aggravation with it. Our hotel there boasted its newness, and we soon discovered we were only a block from Jackson Field, the home of the Lansing Lugnuts, a High-A team (that’s single A ball). Not only that, but on the backside of the amazingly well-developed ballpark for a Single-A club sits Lansing Brewing Company! We had some of the best chicken tenders I’ve had (though I pretty much avoid them because…they’re chicken tenders), and their beer astounded with its high quality. (We bought a case and a half to go!)

This is NOT a typical Single-A ballpark. Lansing’s Lugnuts play to state politicians (state capitol) and the varied professors and students of Michigan State. Not shown: a new apartment complex looking in from the outfield! July 2023.

A month of Sundays

Four Sundays have passed since last I posted, and more than a month since anything of significance graced (?) this blog. Let’s catch up and be witty about it (I hope). In mostly reverse order….

Red oak with tree trimmers. Raleigh, NC. June 2023.

In the photo above a local tree-trimming service prepares to limb the dead branches out of this fine red oak in our front yard. Most of the branches overhang the street or sidewalk and thus pose a safety risk for anything/anyone who happens to be beneath them. I could try to describe where they are in that photo, but only one is distinct. It’s in the upper, left-center of the photo, a dark silhouette against the light green pines behind it. No, not that one. The one snaking down away from it. In all, the two-man crew lopped four main branches and about a half dozen minor ones. The thick end of the branches measured six to eight inches, and I got a nice box of firewood out of it all. This company has given up cutting trees down (losing 30% of their revenue stream in the process), focusing instead on maintaining the health of the ones we still have on this planet. Further, they offer to return your yard to a natural meadow state (for a pretty hefty fee), something we are seriously contemplating. They use organic, natural substances for maintaining shrubs and trees. They help support the native plants and help eradicate or tame the non-natives. I’m pretty stoked about it–if we go the full makeover route, I may give them free advertising by mentioning their name!

Backyard bird feeding station #2. Raleigh, NC. June 2023.

“Month of Sundays” continues: I’m embarrassed to put up such a mundane photo, but I’ve yet to take any good ones. Last Sunday we sat to enjoy this new bird feeding station erected the day before. The squirrel/raccoon baffle works, at least for squirrels anyway, and by including mealworms in the feeder on the right I’ve managed to entice the bluebirds to feed once again. (Haven’t seen them since I quit offering mealworms about nine months ago–long and boring story.) I’m excited to use a Nikon app to link my camera to my phone and take photos of the birds without being anywhere near either them or the camera. It should be good. (It may not work at all, but permit me my optimism.) Installing this pole system proved serendipitous: the same day I planned to install the new pole system, I found the nice, squirrel-proof feeder which normally sits on the pole in the background nearly torn off, likely by something big, like a raccoon, perhaps a possum. Three of four nut-and-bolt fasteners were gone, and it hung sideways by the final remaining one.

Not exactly another Sunday back: the penultimate day of May I spent preparing what I call Deconstructed Nachos. It starts with taking all those fading tortillas which we never can keep up with and turning them into chips. We had several avocados at peak ripeness; they became guacamole. Some heirloom beans (Buckeyes, I think) from Rancho Gordo received the Mexican-flavored cooking I favor, using a recipe from a book I’ve carted around for 45 years. Using the same cookbook, I turned them into a bean dip. Then we just dip the chips instead of piling the ‘stuff’ on top of the chips. Sometimes I’ll make a picadillo, but we skipped it this time, and indeed skipped the melted cheese on top. Goodbye May! You were delicious!

In the past two months there has been baking….

Poppy rolls from the book *From Scratch* by Michael Ruhlman, baked in a cast iron skillet. They held lots of shredded pork and coleslaw and were dressed with Lexington BBQ sauce. May 2023.

Hearth bread from *The Bread Bible* by Rose Levy Beranbaum. May 2023.

There was altogether wa-a-a-ay too much of this…

A fine grain-and-hop concoction in one of the new Teku glasses purchased from Victory Brewing Company in Downingtown, PA. I’m thinking it’s a Belgian-inspired brew from Haw River Farmhouse Ales. May 2023.

…and too little walking and exercising. If there had been more, perhaps I would have encountered more of these while walking….

Deer crossing where the City of Raleigh has built a drainage pipe under the road just north of our house by a couple hundred yards. This allows an unnamed creek to flow to Haresnipe Creek. May 2023.

I’ve now marked the first ten days of my 70th year on this planet. I’d like to think it’s time to get serious, but why start now? Seriously, I need less serious and more lighthearted enjoyment. Apologies for a rambling travelogue through my past two months. We’ll get back to Serious Stuff again. You’ll see.

Brewery Ommegang

When the tree leaves’ colors change, when Americans ready for Thanksgiving holiday and the mad rush of a Christmas season, my thoughts always turn to a few singular brewers. These brewers produce the quality I demand on my holiday table. Brewery Ommegang is one such brewer. Although this photo is from 2012, we first discovered this brewery a few years after it opened in 1997.

Ironically, there’s a fair chance an Ommegang beer will not grace our holiday fest. Two 750ml bottles of Chimay Grande Reserve await, plus a bottle of Unibroue’s La Fin du Monde (which seems an appropriate beer for our times). Then again… (says the thirsty avaricious one)…