I am finding it impossible to go home the sensible way. Two trips back to Seymour ago, I wound up on the Chute Pond Overlook near to breaking a leg but not telling anyone where I had gone. Last trip, I was driving on back roads through the Nicolet-Chequamagon National Forest and getting lost while running out of gas.
Today, I started to head into Iron Mountain to go down Highway 189 and on south saving gas and time but I remembered the road construction. Wouldn't it be better to go south on Highway 73 through Nelma and Alvin to Highway 8, go east to Laona and south from there? I made the turn and kept going.
Nelma and Alvin are in Wisconsin and once I was there, I realized I was on Wisconsin State Highway 55. I knew that would lead me through some interesting places. I decided I didn't need to go to Laona after all, even if I didn't get my usual cappuccino there.
As it turned out, it added almost an hour to my trip because 55 has some of the hilliest and curving roads in northern Wisconsin. No matter. So instead of my usual cappuccino stop in Laona, it was in Crandon where I found Chocolate Covered Strawberry flavor. Yum. How far to Shawano? I asked. About an hour, I was told. If I sped? Better not. Too many curves and deer everywhere. In the end, it took an hour and a half through places like Pickerel, Lily, and Langlade and then the Menominee Reservation. Always there was the forest and occasional glimpses of one of the ten most pristine rivers in the nation, the Wolf.
That is where memories took over. When I was a child, our family used to go on picnics at a waterfall on the Wolf River. Now I can't remember the name of the place but I do remember that we drove there on gravel roads. Often there were trees in the center of the road. Shotgun Eddy was there, too, and I always thought the raft rides were run by somebody by that name. Years later, Gary explained that at that point of the Wolf River, the water shot through on a particular eddy that made for an exciting whitewater raft ride.
On I went past Neopit where I once told stories at a school of Menominee children. Decades ago politicians convinced the tribe to turn their reservation into a county. It was a disaster as Native Americans were tricked into selling plots of land. Finally, they fought back and re-established the reservation. Today, the tribe survives through their own lumber industry ... and of course the casino.
Great blue heron flew over. They always amaze me and as always, I never think of a camera until it is too late.
At Keshena, I stopped to look at the falls. And then I was out of the woods and back in my home territory and soon home.
Tonight I look at the map of Wisconsin and wonder how I should go home next time.
Today, I started to head into Iron Mountain to go down Highway 189 and on south saving gas and time but I remembered the road construction. Wouldn't it be better to go south on Highway 73 through Nelma and Alvin to Highway 8, go east to Laona and south from there? I made the turn and kept going.
Nelma and Alvin are in Wisconsin and once I was there, I realized I was on Wisconsin State Highway 55. I knew that would lead me through some interesting places. I decided I didn't need to go to Laona after all, even if I didn't get my usual cappuccino there.
As it turned out, it added almost an hour to my trip because 55 has some of the hilliest and curving roads in northern Wisconsin. No matter. So instead of my usual cappuccino stop in Laona, it was in Crandon where I found Chocolate Covered Strawberry flavor. Yum. How far to Shawano? I asked. About an hour, I was told. If I sped? Better not. Too many curves and deer everywhere. In the end, it took an hour and a half through places like Pickerel, Lily, and Langlade and then the Menominee Reservation. Always there was the forest and occasional glimpses of one of the ten most pristine rivers in the nation, the Wolf.
That is where memories took over. When I was a child, our family used to go on picnics at a waterfall on the Wolf River. Now I can't remember the name of the place but I do remember that we drove there on gravel roads. Often there were trees in the center of the road. Shotgun Eddy was there, too, and I always thought the raft rides were run by somebody by that name. Years later, Gary explained that at that point of the Wolf River, the water shot through on a particular eddy that made for an exciting whitewater raft ride.
On I went past Neopit where I once told stories at a school of Menominee children. Decades ago politicians convinced the tribe to turn their reservation into a county. It was a disaster as Native Americans were tricked into selling plots of land. Finally, they fought back and re-established the reservation. Today, the tribe survives through their own lumber industry ... and of course the casino.
Great blue heron flew over. They always amaze me and as always, I never think of a camera until it is too late.
At Keshena, I stopped to look at the falls. And then I was out of the woods and back in my home territory and soon home.
Tonight I look at the map of Wisconsin and wonder how I should go home next time.
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