Our trip to the Upper Peninsula... a review with lots of pictures

This was written on Monday, April 20th as Pearl and I drove south through Michigan. I'm now just getting around to posting it... sorry it's so long, I've included extra pictures to hopefully break it up.

enjoy... Matt

So Pearl and I have been on the road the past couple of days. We started last Thursday and traveled out to P-burg after work. We spent the evening/morning connecting with Pearl’s youngest sis (Grace). Crashing in her dorm room and then ventured out of the city early the next morning.

Our travels then turned us north, through Toledo towards Flint and then on to the mighty Mackinac Bridge. We crossed this massive 4+ mile bridge and finally arrived in one of the world’s best kept secret the “Upper Peninsula” (it’s a creative name, I know). But our movement was not yet done, we had another 5 hours to cross the UP and into it’s northern most tip, the Keweenaw Peninsula.

The Keweenaw greeted us with it’s spectacular beauty… a brilliant moon and star kissed sky reflecting off it’s crystal waters and snow caped beaches.

(this is my favorite nature picture from the whole trip)

After 20 hours of driving we arrived to Pearl’s former home and found warm arms awaiting an embrace and then a welcoming bed calling us to rest.

Our time with Pearl’s family was short but sweet. Friday was spent tromping around the Keweenaw, catching up on stories from the year, hearing the latest news on life and then dreaming a little about the future.

The upper Keweenaw is truly an amazing place, it’s trees feel massive and wise, it’s crisp waters pure and strong, it’s inhabitants tough and weathered yet creative and full of a unique culture and way of life. This place has a mystic draw, like an invitation into a boyhood adventure.

(this is the area's "snow meter", look at how much snow they get! CRAZY!)

Saturday started off at “Victoria’s kitchen.” A hole in the wall café that captured my wife’s taste buds and heart many years ago. After a lingering breakfast our feet strolled the streets of Houghton.

Houghton is a place of hippies. In the sixties when hippies escaped north to Canada, some must have become confused and ended up in here instead, only to fall in love with this place and never leave. The age of Houghton can be seen in the architecture and streets. Buildings with detail that cannot be found today, shops with character that invites you look at the walls as much as the goods, and once again a weird invitation that calls you to linger in it’s coffee shops and pubs.

Sunday was a day of rest. Church, food, rest. Conversations on the coach, movies to be enjoyed, and the art of simply being to be enjoyed.

Leslie (Pearl’s mom) made some killer Chicken Curry, which overcame my self control and tempted me to eat enough for 3 growing men.

This rumbling in my gut reminded me of my need for my daily run. I knew the temperature was not the warm 65 degree’s of Friday so I put on an extra layer. I stepped out not to an evening sunset but to a winter snow storm. Pearl laughed and said welcome to spring in the UP, 60’s one day and snow the next.

My run was amazing, the snow fell quietly around me, my pace felt surprisingly easy and the distance from home quickly grew. Then harsh reality set in when I decided to turn around to head back home. Unknowingly I had been running with my back to the wind, a really really hard wind. The snow was no longer quietly falling around me but now whipping into my face, sticking to my hoodie and melting on every stitch of clothing own my body. My joy run was now a race back to the house, where I arrived very wet, cold, but yet still refreshed and alive, laughing with Pearl about the stupidity of wearing a gray hoodie in a gray snow storm.

That ended Sunday

This morning, yes it’s now Monday, brought packing and good byes, but it also brought 2 inches of snow (they would end the day with 8, yes 8" of snow in mid April!). Our good byes turned into one last trip to Pearl’s favorite coffeehouse, and then the inevitably pulling out and heading home.

Our travels today head us toward Leilani (Pearl’s oldest sister) and her 4 kids in Detroit. It also has taken us through 3 hours of slushy mess, which we gladly followed the snow plow through, and now leaves us winding our way along the Upper Peninsula’s southern coast looking once again for the mighty Mackinac Bridge.

I gave the car a "snow-hawk"

(it's cheesy but it made me laugh, cell phone picture)

(another shot from our cell phone, follow that snow plow baby, follow that plow!)

To be uploaded and expanded as the day allows....

So that day has now turned into about a week and I've finally decided to finish this blog rather then finish my homework, I'm really working my priorities I tell ya!

That day when we crossed the "mighty Mackinac Bridge" we were not greeted by its strength and mighty presence but by the stark reality of how harsh life in the Upper Peninsula can be. The winds coming across the lakes where high enough to warrant a police escort (my first police escort across a bridge!). The authorities feared that if someone drove just fast enough, and the wind hit them just right, they could find themselves in an involuntary free fall into one very very cold lake. I yet again gladly followed someone else’s lead.

We arrived in Detroit later that day to the wonderful welcome of nieces and nephews, which lead to made up games involving warn out basketballs and swing rides and eventually a little "mini photo shoot" were they where instructed to act like movie stars (the best I could get was for them to jump off tables for me… still fun and cute but nothing serious).

I really do love these kids, they make me feel like a valued part of the family and also a walking human jungle gym. I am greeted by a mix of hugs and vicious jumping acts, so I try to give long-rib crushing hugs back as much as I can. We closed out Monday night by wrapping the boys up in their blankets like human burritos and promising that if they went to sleep on time then I'd show them pictures of Auschwitz (yes, one is now in a WWII phase).

Tuesday started with the much intisipated and promised Auschwitz pictures and then the final hugs and goodbyes.

Pearl and I traveled to a near by Starbucks to wrap up and post school work. This then lead to reconnecting with a good friend, who just so happened to be working in Detroit, which lead to a 2.5 hour lunch and much to my frustration a stupid parking ticket because we lost track of the time and meter.

The remaining trip home was smooth sailing. A little rain, a lot of sun, and finally a coonhound who eagerly welcomed us home…

…. and is now exhausted and out cold in our living room chair as I type this.

"F" is the letter of the day

So yesterday was Easter.

A holiday that for me is normally known for a couple of things, all which surprisingly begin with "F" - Faith, family, and food.

Pearl and I tried to do all three.

Faith - a wonderful service at church.

Family - we both live 12+ hours from our families, so a nice long phone was in order

Food - She surprised me with breakfast in bed and I returned the gesture with my rockin' "turkey and cheese melt" (which she still had to help me get just right. Its no lie, I'm not a cook)

But Easter is also known (at least in my family) as a day for pictures. So I had the wonderful joy of photographing my extremely hot and fabulously-funny-friend-fair-fantastic-feminine wife (how's that for the use of "f")

It was extremely hard to narrow down the pictures to few, but here's my favorites.

enjoy...

ps - love ya Pearl!

Burying into hope...

Easter has changed in meaning for me over the years. Each year I feel like I’m grasping it in a new and hopefully more full sense, so may be by the time I’m old and gray I’ll have a simple understanding for this cornerstone event in my faith tradition.

This year’s Easter comes at a strange time. Here’s some back ground.

About three years ago Pearl and I help led a group of about 25 high school students on a trip to the Czech republic where we partnered with a local church in providing an English camp for local students. The trip was a wonderful success. Every American made deep friendships with the Czech’s and tears were shed when it was time to journey back home.

One young man who our entire team seemed to bond with was Pavel. Pavel was an amazing person, loving God and people in a very surprising and sincere way, someone who influenced a room of people just by walking in and was simply a delight to be around.

Pavel was studying here in the States on a football scholarship. About a year ago during a random physical a lump was discovered, further examinations performed and a diagnosis of cancer given.

Last Friday Pavel lost his personal fight with cancer. He was only 22 years old.

Many more tears have been shed.

So this year I celebrate Easter in light of Pavel’s untimely death, the grieving of close friends and the questions of “why” lingering in the air.

But as this tension rest in my soul my faith says there’s more, it says that there was this man who lived, who died, but who we now believe in has changed everything.

This man is Jesus.

My faith says that he came to restore, to make things right, to redeem that which has been broken.

So I must believe that he is now restoring Pavel. That the cancer is gone and that Pavel is experiencing what life was really meant to be.

I must also believe that he is now restoring this world around us. That hearts that have been wounded by the shrapnel of crap in this world can be healed, that marriages that are stress filled and teetering on collapse can be put back, that homes that resemble war zone can find peace, that lives that live in the despair of utter poverty and abandonment can find humanity.

That hope can still be found

That hope can still be restored

That hope can still be experienced and lived

So this weekend as my faith tradition remembers it’s cornerstone figure’s death, burial and resurrection I will also be remembering the hope that came with this resurrection.

I will be looking for signs of his redemption in the world around me

I will be trying to plant seeds of this hope in the lives I encounter

I will be trying to bury this world with hope.

Ps – here’s a slideshow that was made for Pavel.