Chris Loehmer Kincaid's Blog, page 78

September 16 and 17, the trip to Kenya and our arrival

     I’m going to make this post short, but I wanted to let you know that we had a successful trip to Kenya and back. Yeah! First trip where nothing went awry, either just before or while we were in-country. (If you don’t recall the many mishaps on all of my previous trips – well, you’ll just have to try to find them on my blog or ask me someday when we both have enough time.)

 Outside of Loew’s Hotel, where we parked Denise’s car and caught a shuttle to O’Hare.  I’m pretty sure not our plane, but at least the same line.    We flew from Chicago to Frankfurt, Germany, where we had a four-hour layover, which was the perfect amount of time to grab something to eat, get to our gate, and just put our feet up. Here we are flying out of Frankfurt.
 After that eight-hour flight and four-hour layer, it was another eight-hour flight to Nairobi. Does make for a long day and a half, or whatever it is with the additional eight-hour time change to really throw me off.

 On the plane. Sorry, Denise, it’s the best picture I had.  Our home away from home for the next two weeks.
 The view just outside the gate.
 The dining room and living room of our gracious hosts.
 My bedroom . . .
 With an en suite bathroom.
 People always seem to think that where we stay in Africa has none of the modern conveniences of home. Totally not true. This trip we had hot running water and electricity all of the time, and even WiFi for most of our stay. Makes it hard to come home.
 Ok, but this honey really makes it hard to leave.

Iowa, don't knock it til you've tried it

     Ok, here we go. Time to stop messing around and get on with things. This will probably be my last blog post for a while, as I’m leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow for my sixth trip to Kenya. Six trips! That is just crazy. I still get excited about it though, and you know what, I get just as excited about a weekend to Iowa. Yes, even Iowa.
 Though we were staying with Hubby’s brother in Bettendorf, we drove to Davenport on that Saturday back in August.   We visited a Farmer’s Market first and bought too much stuff, of course. Then drove to the German American Heritage Center and Museum.   
 They had some great displays, and I took actually very few pictures of them. Not sure what was up with that. Instead I took pictures of quotes. I didn’t want to forget them. 

 Especially this one. Though it was written in 1893, it says a lot about our culture today. We are Americans because we were at one time the world’s melting pot; we are the combination of all those who came and settled here from other countries. Shouldn’t we still be all that and more?   From there we drove to the River House Bar and Grill in East Moline for lunch.
 And a photo op. 
 Best part next though. Oh, my goodness. 
 Can’t even use my words to describe this place. I just let my inner five-year-old come out.   Speaking of five-year-olds, I had to knock a few out of the way to climb up on some of these bad boys. 
 I think it would be easier to fly a plane. 
 Which reminds me . . .
I gotta get on a plane in 24 hours or so, I best get packing.

Another Road Trip, Believe it or not

     My last several blog entries were about my travels to the east-south central part of Wisconsin. Today’s is heading more towards the west-south central area.
 On the weekend of August 16, Hubby and I headed down to his brother’s in Iowa. Of course, I found the most circuitous route there. What can I say? That’s what you get when you jump in a car with me.
 And you know what you get when I spend too much time on Facebook again? A blog post that has been slapped together. Get to the end of it though to find out why that’s okay this time.
Ship Rock, west of Coloma on Hwy 21. 

Castle Rock Lake from Adams County Castle Rock Park   Roche-A-Cri State Park 

 Petroglyphs at Roche-A-Cri  Awww, the happy couple  Vulture on top of the rock    Should they announce that?   Wayside outside of Reedsburg. Looks like a painting.    Playing with my camera's settings again.   We saw a lot more along the way, or at least I took a lot more pictures. Not sure how many would be of interest. But back to the beginning. I leave for my sixth trip to Africa on Monday, so I'm trying to blog about my various journeys from the summer and then start fresh when I get back home the 2nd of October and share that whole journey with you. Sunday I'll let you know what we saw while we were visiting Iowa that weekend in August. Then you'll have to wait for two and a half weeks to hear from me again. 

Finishing out this road trip

     When I saw today’s date, after I had uploaded all the pictures for this post and knew what I was going to write about, I remembered. I don’t think we should ever forget. Of course, if we don’t forget, but we don’t do anything about it, what is the point?
“Sigh” 
 Anyway, onto the pictures. The weekend of August 9, I traveled down to the Green Lake Conference Center for a writers’ reunion. On the way there, as you already know, I ran across multiple covered bridges.   I didn’t find any covered bridges at the Conference Center, but a few regular bridges.  Along with lots of flowers.
 
















(Playing with my camera's settings.)





 And a little bit of wildlife.


 I’ve stopped at this cabin before – the oldest buildings on the grounds, dating back to the mid-1800s.
 
 I never have managed to stop here when it is open.
 Finally, to round out my trip, a few more bridges. 

  Imagine that. This should have been called the trip of bridges.  

My Last Covered Bridge

     Just a month ago, on August 9, I was driving to the Green Lake Christian Conference Center for a writers’ reunion. I ran across two covered bridges in Waupaca and was continuing down side roads, angling my way to Green Lake, when I spied another sign for a covered bridge. I couldn’t believe it.   Springwater Volunteer Bridge is four miles east of Wild Rose and close to the bump in the road called Saxeville. Crossing the Pine River, the 40-foot long, one-lane bridge is on Covered Bridge Road just off of County Highway A and Portage Road.   
 In 1989, the county condemned the steel and concrete bridge which originally serviced this location. The estimate to replace it came in at $100,000. The town didn’t have close to that kind of money, even with the help of federal funding. 
 One of the board members had been out east and had been smittened by the covered bridges he had seen in Pennsylvania. He came home with the idea to construct one in his township. It took six years of hard work, but the bridge was finally dedicated June 1, 1997. The cost? Just under $50,000. 

 The park adjacent to the bridge couldn’t be more adorable.  














Good job, volunteers of Springwater. 


Now onto my next stop - the Conference Center. I’ll have to tell you about that next time. 

Thankful for Dry Ground

 Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,    for I have put my trust in you.Show me the way I should go,    for to you I entrust my life. Rescue me from my enemies, Lord,    for I hide myself in you. Teach me to do your will,    for you are my God;may your good Spirit    lead me on level ground.Psalm 143:8-10 (New International Version)
 I haven’t shared a Sunday inspirational post for almost a month, as I’ve been so busy writing about all the ground I have traveled over this summer. But I woke up this morning and thought, it’s time.
 Looking at this picture, I’m reminded that sometimes when we haven’t been led to level ground, that at least God sends us a dry boardwalk. When I took this picture, I had just slogged through a muddy swamp which hadn’t been blest by a walkway. Or actually, it was because we have been blessed with abundant rain this summer and the people who built that trail hadn’t planned for that much moisture. I was thankful to meet up with the boardwalk again.
Thank You, Lord, for sending us to dry, level ground in our time of need. Amen.

Red Mill, Little Hope

     If you didn’t see Wednesday’s post, perhaps you should go back and read it. I wrote about several distractions on one Friday in August, and here I am telling you about another one.
 As I was driving out of Waupaca that day, I spied yet another intriguing sign. I wish I could recall just what all these signs say that I get all excited about. It may have been as simple as “Red Mill”, but I can’t remember.
 Just before I got there, however, I had to stop at the Nelson Park, along the Crystal River. A tiny little park, but so picturesque.   I loved the little bridge to the little island. Why I didn’t cross it, I can’t say. 
  Then I looked upstream (I think it was upstream) and things really got good. 
 And then they got better..
 The covered bridge was built in 1970.  
 Certainly not old by any means, but isn’t it still romantic? 

 The chapel was constructed four years later.   
 It is available for weddings. Wouldn’t this be a beautiful setting? 
 The setting all revolves around the Red Mill, however. Built in 1855, the grist mill made grain for the farmers around the towns of Little Hope and Waupaca for over 100 years. Closing in 1959 when it was sold at auction.     

 It is now a quaint gift shop with a wide array of items for sale, including a Christmas room. There is also an ice cream and sandwich shop within the old buildings.
  I should have snuck some pictures of the inside as well. I bought some Christmas presents instead.
  Then it was time to hit the road. I did have a destination to be to by late afternoon, and one more surprise side trip was waiting for me. 
 Just one more picture. This was behind the chapel. 
“Take these broken wings And learn to fly again.” (from “Broken Wings” written by John Ross Lang / Richard James Page / Steve George)

Another Day for Distractions

     Last month, on my way to Green Lake for a writers’ reunion, as usual, I didn’t take the shortest route. I knew I wanted to drive through Waupaca; I’d run across something online which I wanted to see there. Of course, I got distracted first.
 I wanted to turn to the east, but a sign announcing something like “The Grand Army Home” pointed west, so I had to follow it. I drove past the place and had to turn around in the cemetery. Imagine that! Me driving into a cemetery? 
 The Central Wisconsin Veterans Memorial Cemetery in King, the state’s first veterans’ cemetery, opened in June of 1888 with the burial of a Civil War veteran. More than 6,669 veterans and their dependents have been buried in the cemetery since on its 63 acres.  Something about veterans’ cemeteries makes them so much more somber.   They make me feel too reverent to wonder among the white headstones.  Across the highway, though, within the domain of the Wisconsin Veterans Home,   I discovered “The Grand Army Home”.   And so much more, such as memorials,      The Veterans Home Chapel, built in 1890,      And The Commandant’s Residence Home built in 1888. 
 Just past that is Rainbow Lake, one of the lakes on Waupaca’s Chain of Lakes, where the local waterskiing team was practicing the day I was there.   But I couldn’t tarry for too long. I headed back into Waupaca for my initial quest. When I got there, this youngster was blocking my path.   There it is finally..  The Waupaca Covered Bridge, built in 1976, spanning the Waupaca River. 













 Then guess what I found? Well, you'll have to wait until next time.

A Ramble and a Farewell - 2019 Camping Post #9

     I once again feel the need to apologize as I still haven’t finished writing about our camping trip to Michigan’s UP in July. After eight posts already, I don’t have much to add, but I feel like I should at least give you a tidy ending to the trip instead of just moving on.
 Friday morning, our last full day at McLain, I got up early enough to catch a little of the sunrise.   Then, after pancakes for breakfast, we took another drive. Found a new beach for Dino, at Eagle River. But he wasn’t impressed. 
 I can’t say I was super-impressed with the flowers, but enough so that I got a picture. 
 The lighthouse at Eagle Harbor. We took a tour of it a couple years ago, taking turns with one of us staying outside with Dino. We do that a lot, but my baby’s worth it. (What movie was that from?) (Oh, I know, “Independence Day”.)
 The beach at Eagle Harbor. Overturned canoes on the lakeshore are always picturesque. Notice the German Shepherd in the water? 
 Holy Redeemer Church in Eagle Harbor. Should I have shared the closeup of the sign so you could read all about it? Am I getting lazy by not typing it here for you?   Copper Falls Roadside Park. Looks like there should be water here, but there wasn’t. And you would think by the name of the park, that there was a waterfall nearby, but there wasn’t.
 A boat on a quiet Lake Superior. Just being at peace with the world. I might be a little off sometimes, but Lake Superior always brings my head back to where it belongs. 
 Speaking of belonging. What can one say about a family of ducks crossing the road!
 You can say that they were on their way to the Canal Run. I wish I could run, that my feet weren’t shot, I’d start training to run this event next year.   
 And that’s it, folks. Another camping trip in the books, or at least in my laptop and now on the world wide web. I guess it’s appropriate as today is Labor Day, the last official day of the summer vacation season. Have a safe day and a good week.

Laurium Walking Tour Part 3 - 2019 Camping Post #8

     I promise this is the last time (this year!) that I write about Laurium, Michigan. I just have to tell you about a couple parks and then tell you the tragic tale of the city’s “favorite son”.
 Daniell Park is located on the corner of Pewabic and Third Streets. The W. J. Duncan home was built on this site in 1900. In 1937, the house and the three city lots it took up were given to the city by Joshua Daniell, and the house was razed for $150. Concerts began to be held there, and the WPA constructed a concrete bandshell atop a poor rock foundation. The park was used occasionally from the 1940’s through 1970’s and was finally renovated in 1974 by the Village Street Department. An annual summer concert series began in 1985. It doesn’t look like a big enough park for much of a concert, but maybe a cozy concert is better anyway.      The George Gipp Recreation Area is located on the corner of Isle Royale and Second Streets. It holds four ball fields, including the Billy Miller Memorial field, along with a basketball court, a tennis court, sand volleyball court, horseshoe pits, bocheball and children’s playground.   Maybe it was just because it was a dreary day, but it did look like the facilities could use a little sprucing up.   And finally, The Gipp Memorial Monument at 535 Tamarack, built in 1935. I visited this park in 2012 and posted a short blog about it.
 But here’s the rest of the story:  George Gipp was born in Laurium on February 18, 1895, to Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Gipp. He attended the Calumet Public Schools, playing a wide variety of sports, but never high school football. In 1917, Gipp entered Notre Dame to play baseball, but Knute Rockne recruited him for the football team. In his last three seasons playing for the Fighting Irish, Gipp led the team in rushing and passing. He is still Notre Dame's all-time leader in average yards per rush for a season (8.1), career average yards per play of total offense (9.37), and career average yards per game of total offense (128.4).  In the summer of 1920, Gipp’s tonsils became infected, and even though his doctor wanted to remove them, apparently, George never got around to it. In November, he contracted a serious streptococcic infection in his throat, and Coach Rockne kept him out of Notre’s game against Northwestern. When Notre Dame continued to trail in the game, the crowd began to chant "Gipp! Gipp!" Rockne finally relented and put Gipp in. On the very next play, he scored the winning touchdown.
 His sore throat however worsened, and two weeks later Gipp was hospitalized with pneumonia and strep infection. In 1920, antibiotics were not available, and George Gipp’s life began to ebb away.
 Somber Rockne entered Gipp's room and told him he had been selected Notre Dame's first All-American. Gipp answered with, "Sometime, Rock, when the team's up against it, when things are wrong, when the breaks are beating the boys, tell them to go in there with all they've got and win one for the Gipper. I don't know where I'll be then, but I'll know about it and I'll be happy." 
Shortly after, on December 14, 1920, the Gipper passed away at the age of 25.   His story is not only immortalized in the residents and athletes of little Laurium, but in the minds of everyone who has watched the movie, “Knute Rockne: All-American”, with our future president Ronald Reagan in the role as George Gipp.