Hill to Tomahawk, Wisconsin Tuesday, May 25, 2021
It was only a matter of time before I had a post with this title.
After yesterday‘s drama-queen mudfest, I needed a low-key day. It rained on and off all morning, keeping me cooped up in this lovely cabin, editing yesterday’s long post with anemic WiFi. I sleep better in old fashioned beds, this has a headboard and a footboard. Still, the sunrise over Bass Lake was gorgeous enough to get me up and sit on the dock. I ate most of my motel swag from yesterday, and went down to say goodbye to my trail angel, Cathy.
But she wasn’t done with me. Despite my protests, she served me a “second breakfast” of farm fresh eggs and bacon, and we chatted with more of her friends. It was 1:30 before I got out.
I had to backtrack the twelve miles to Spirit Falls, but a tailwind got me there in 45 minutes. Then it was time for my weekly session with my therapist (we discuss life transition and family issues) but the road was so smooth and traffic-free, and the wind noise so minimal with that blessed tailwind, that we could do the whole session while I dialed off another 14 miles. The thing about highpoints is, once you’ve done them, everywhere else is downhill. Before I knew it, I was in the next town, Tomahawk, and pulled over to a Senior Center bench (I qualify, right?) and studied the situation. Should I go another 24 miles?
It was tempting. The wind was at my back, it would shift tomorrow. But there was a severe thunderstorm watch, only 15% chance, but still. At that moment I got phone calls from Anne and Jane, and suddenly it was an hour later, 4:30.
Perhaps I’ve said this before, back in my glory days it would’ve been a no-brainer. But the clouds looked threatening, and I did not want to get caught between towns. I settled on a motel 6 miles down the road, and five minutes after I arrived I saw I’d made the right decision.
To make my choice even sweeter, the motel, a decidedly non-chain unit called the Motel Nokomis, had a couple of Easter eggs. I was the only guest, and the configuration reminded me of the “12 rooms, 12 vacancies” line from the movies. Not to worry, my shower was uneventful. On that ghoulish vein however, these photos were on the walls.
What a hoot! I mentioned earlier this was not only a highpoint tour, it was a rubbernecking-America’s-dark-places tour. As it happens, the Bonnie and Clyde ambush site is five miles from Louisiana’s highpoint, no way am I going to miss it. Missy, the motel proprietor, chose the room at random for me. Or did she?????
I suppose I should mention where I’m headed now. Mt Arvon, the highpoint of Michigan, in the Upper Peninsula, about the same height as Timm’s Hill, but deep in the woods in a tangle of logging roads; my buds have told me it’s tricky to find, even with GPS. I have no intention of a repeat performance of yesterday. It’s about 4 days away, let me post this and study the logistics very carefully.
Distance 33 miles, 1,772 total. Time 3 1/2 hours with stops. Elevation gain 593 feet
The Ends of the Earth 