Summer in Amsterdam

We made it to Schiphol in plenty of time to visit one of the airport lounges that we've grown habituated to.
Unfortunately they were booked so we hit Starbucks for an hour before they opened up again. A couple of flat whites and all was in good order. Boarding was a full hour and a half before the scheduled departure. What? Turns out we were on one of the new double decker planes. Boarding and deplaning is compounded with separate loading bays attached to each floor. Other than that the nine hour flight to O'Hare was effortless.

We arrived in Chicago the night before Nancy's birthday. I'd put in some effort to find a hotel that offered a shuttle service with a van big enough to carry both bike boxes and spendy enough that Nance would feel like she was waking up somewhere special. As we turned into the parking lot of the 'Four Points by Sheraton' I realized I'd been hoodwinked. Good reviews and marketing images couldn't hide the fact that I'd picked another hotel that was past prime, at the end of its shelf life, and had seen its expiration date some years before. Bummer. We spent the evening putting our bikes back together in a small airport hotel room and stumbling around in the haze of jetlag.

Next morning we caught a Lyft to our camper, it started right up, and we drive north to the Door Peninsula in eastern Wisconsin. Along the way we passed the towns of Belgium and Brussels. The churches and a few of the homes bore a striking similarity to those found in Flanders. The main difference was that there were actually plenty of parishioners attending in the States. Probably 100 cars in the rural church parking lot.

Next day we woke and took a 30 mile bike ride up the coast of the peninsula. Things are pretty pleasant here and these Wisconsinites are Minnesota friendly. This afternoon a cafe owner spent a good twenty minutes listing the places we shouldn't go to have dinner. Once back at the campground I swung by the Park Store to grab a post ride beer. The lady behind the counter said that beer could only be purchased in sixes or twelves. The customer behind me in the line listened to the conversation and said, 'Here, take one of mine.' Pretty nice.

Spent the last two nights in a camground in Copper Harbor of Michigan's Upper Peninsula recommended by Nancy's brother John. There were lots of mountain bike trails to choose from. We rode north toward the end of the peninsula but were stopped a bit short when the road turned into a muddy bog. Tonight we're ensconced in Copper Falls State Park with plans for a pancake breakfast at the Park concession and another ride in the am.

This part of America is pretty rough. Far northern towns are sparse. Calumet Michigan was particularly harsh. Many of the wooden buildings are rotting and in bad need of paint or a complete teardown. The old stone buildings are visibly crumbling away. It is a ghost town that hasn't yet come to terms with its fate. These towns are similar to those one finds in northern New York on the edges of the Adirondacks or in Maine away from the coast. It's not hard to imagine people feeling pretty left behind in these towns and willing to do anything in the voting booth to retaliate in some way. Voting for a lowlife reality TV show star might be the ticket to relieve both the boredom and bitterness. Their preachers tell them that God works in mysterious ways through sinners as well as saints. I guess they feel part of a winning team even while the populist coach is pushing them to play while injured, selling off their uniforms, and firing their team physician.

This being rural America the churches run the gamut with odd messages and interesting spiritual displays. I think I'll start a collection of photos depicting American Christianity's more mind bending messages. See photos...

Perhaps another bike ride tomorrow will alleviate some of the angst of being back in the USofA.Baca lagi