5/29/2022

Happy Memorial Day Weekend, Blog Readers!

I think this is probably my first weekend here in the Upper Peninsula where I’m not just trying to gather my bearings, survive and adjust to a new life. It is also my last weekend here living in a priest’s apartment behind St. Peter’s Cathedral. This upcoming Friday I am driving back to Omaha to load up a truck with all of my stuff, just to immediately turn around and drive right back up here again, this time to move into my actual apartment. My parents will be coming along on that journey, so I will finally have the opportunity to show my new home to some of my family. Looking for ways to kill time between now and then, I set out on a bunch of adventures for this three-day weekend.

The weekend technically began Friday afternoon, on a perfectly calm, sunny day. It’s ridiculous how clear Lake Superior gets on days like that Friday, the water looking like a sheet of glass showcasing a sandy, other-worldly planet hundreds of feet beneath it. This must be some of the cleanest, purest, freshest water on Earth. And it’s so, so abundant! If I were on one of the Lake’s more abandoned coasts, I might even be okay with the concept of just drinking straight from the Lake, no filter needed.

My work was done for the week, so I spent most of that afternoon just walking around town, enjoying the sights of spring and grabbing the occasional beer from a brewery when I felt like it. Yes, it’s still spring here, and I really like that fact. The pacing of seasons, and the ability to enjoy each season in its own respective time is just such a privilege after living in California for so long. Right now, apple and cherry blossoms, honeysuckle, and endless fields of dandelions and yarrow are reaching their prime and drenching the town in color. It reminds me of the almond orchards in bloom back in California, although that happens as early as February back in the North State. In the distance, ships busied themselves with industry – an event I do not recall ever seeing back in Red Bluff.

I guess I needed time to decompress, as I’m still just trying to come to grasps with things around the office, and it is a bit stressful picking up a new job, in a new town, surrounded by people you don’t really know. Doing that while the news and social media are constantly blaring hate and sad things makes it that much more difficult. I have few friends to talk to about this kind of stuff, so I just talk it through in my head on long walks.

After I finished my walk, I decided to go back to my place to spend the evening binge watching the new Obi Wan and Stranger Things shows. On my way back, I stopped by a local wine shop and grabbed a modest bottle of wine for the evening. From there it was just relaxing in the apartment…until I noticed it! My tummy just…looked…kind of pudgy. Definitely not the fit, chiseled distance runner look that I was used to seeing. My time in the Midwest has made me soft! I resolved that the weekend would be one of running, hiking, and getting back in shape.

Unfortunately, Saturday did not cooperate much. It was cold and rainy, and chores caught up to me. And then there was the awkward moment where, while I was having my morning coffee, one of the retired priests just let himself into my apartment thinking it was his (kind of sad actually…his mind is definitely slipping). Turns out that the keys in this priest apartment complex are universal and can basically let you in anywhere. Not a huge deal (I guess I could think of a lot worse people breaking into my place than a kindly, old priest), but it definitely put me on notice to use those room locks on doors for the rest of the week, just in case.

Anyways, when I wasn’t explaining to an elderly priest that this apartment was mine for now, not his, I was researching the local area and its connections to Jim Harrison, a great American author primarily known for writing Legends of the Fall and for wordsmithing perfect, and I mean absolutely perfect, sentences. Turns out that he lived in the UP for much of his life, and used it as his escape-of-choice from his ‘day job’ in Hollywood. He would regularly stay at the Landmark Inn here in town, so in an effort to sort of channel the spirit of the guy, I decided to brave the rain and go enjoy a sazarec at the Landmark. Sipping cocktails there definitely had a different feel to it knowing that it was the old haunt of one of my favorite authors.

Finally, today came around and the weather was a lot nicer than Saturday. Staying true to my word, I got up to work out at the crack of dawn and went for a 6 mile run along the shores of Lake Superior. I largely had the beach to myself, and it was glorious. The waters and sky were painted with all manners of oranges, reds, purples, and blues, and the shoreline was filled with sand, grasses, and flowers bringing whites, browns, yellows, and greens into the equation. God literally painted that morning run with every color on Earth, and I wish I had had my camera to take a picture of it. I ran hard, and it felt good pushing out the cobwebs from my frame. After my run I made sure to do some situps, to start working on the flabby tummy.

After my run, I grabbed a morning coffee and bagel, and then immediately set out to go on a hike. I went to Sugarloaf Mountain, just outside of town. The views did not disappoint!

At the top of the mountain was a memorial, erected by a local Boy Scout troop approximately a century ago. Their troop leader died in the trenches of World War I, and they decided to erect the memorial to pay their respects to their old, fallen leader. There’s your Memorial Day tie-in! A touching one, at that.

Feeling energized after my run, coffee, and morning hike, I decided to push onwards to the small town of Big Bay. The drive showcased lazy highways and aspen trees all over the place (yes, this area has an insane amount of aspens…sometimes I feel like I’m back in my childhood home of Salt Lake City).

Emphasis on Big Bay being small, though! There is not much in Big Bay, but it oddly has a fair amount of history. First, it is home of the Lumberjack Tavern, the situs of the real life murder behind the 1959 Jimmy Stewart movie, Anatomy of a Murder. They are really into their call-to-fame in there…

Second, Big Bay is home to the Thunder Bay Inn, a small hotel that used to be owned by Henry Ford and used by him as a summer retreat. This place too had a prominent connection with Anatomy of a Murder, being used for many of the bar and hotel scenes in the movie. In fact, they had the movie playing on repeat when I stopped in for lunch. Kind of funny. Also funny was the old Dodge pickup parked out front, not a Ford.

Outside of the businesses obsessed with their 1950’s moment-of-fame, there’s really not much to Big Bay. It’s just a quaint, tiny piece of Americana. Its local church, St. Mary’s, is one of the more than 90 Catholic churches that it is my job to help steward and finance here in the Diocese of Marquette. The area has several lakes and small mountains, but in true, Henry Ford capitalist fashion, most of them are private and inaccessible. I was still able to find one public trail though (the Thomas Rock Scenic Overlook), and was able to snap a photo or two of one of the big lakes, which looked much more like your typical Midwest summer lake-experience and less like the Lake Superior experience.

Finally, I drove back to Marquette and enjoyed a cocktail at a resort near our ski hill. It was bliss after all of the running and hiking. Thereafter, I grabbed a pizza at Vango’s and headed home to write out this monster blog entry.

There’s the weekend so far. Let’s see if I have anything left in me tomorrow. God bless our fallen soldiers, and God bless these United States of America. Signing out from the Upper Peninsula.

-Rob