More detailed account of our Sept. 2025 trip - Part4 (11/3/2025)

So now it was time to turn the front of the vehicle towards the south and southeast. That morning, we headed to the so anticipated Mackinac bridge. This is a 4.9 mile (8 km) long bridge that is 200 feet (61 m) above the water. It has four lanes (two each way) with the center lanes over a metal grid; in other words, when you look down you can see the water. This bridge seems to unnerve enough people that you can rent a professional driver to shuttle you across. Not for us, it actually was a fun easy drive across in our Transit on our way to Traverse City.

Little did we expect that the drive through the northern part of Michigan would be so beautiful. We fell in love with Charlevoix (another French name) and Traverse City. The next day, we stopped over at the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore Park on our way further south. Sleeping Bear Dunes is another place we need to spend more time at during a subsequent visit. It is absolutely all that it is made out to be. That afternoon, after a nice hike through the dunes, we drove south to Weidman via Pontiac. But first lunch and coffee in the parking lot at the park. It is nice to be able to do that in the van. Our Anker Solix (no I am not sponsored by them) has been an invaluable during this trip; we had no problem brewing our own coffee while just sitting in a parking lot.

The KOA in Weidman was at least better than the one we visited on our way up; the owners had really made an effort, but our site selection was somewhat dismal. Our neighbor, a welding inspector from Texas, had been living there for a couple of months. When he returned from work, he sat outside a spoke very loudly over the phone with his brother who had his birthday. We learned more about that family than we wanted to know. We now learned that inexpensive sites come with their own challenges. But then the cheap off-grid $10 and $20 sites are sometimes much better.

We had missed Holland, Michigan, so this Dutchman had to go there. We first stopped in Muskegon at the Hackley and Hume Historic Site and had a nice walk along the harbor. The father of a dear friend of ours grew up in the Hackley and Hume house in the 1930s. The windmill and the New Holland Brewing were on our schedule for that late afternoon and evening. Holland reminded me a little of what I left in the Netherlands. For example the Dutch Reformed Church (de Gereformeerde kerk or Zwarte Kousen Kerk = Black Stockings Church), there were four on one block in the beautiful center of town. Shops in parts of the town were closed on Sundays, another relic from old Europe. The architecture downtown was charming.

The next day we went further south, with the Hocking Hills in Ohio on our radar. We left the interstate highway after a beautiful hike in Hudsonville and headed south to Bowling Green, Ohio. A little piece of highway near Kalamazoo and then we drove relatively narrow farm roads to our motel. While driving, we wondered how many people would enjoy the narrow rural farm roads and observe farm life, like we did. It was absolutely delightful; corn and soybeans were yellowing which cast a wonderful fall vibe to our drive. The next day down to the Hocking Hills we tried to do the same thing but eventually could not avoid the hustle and bustle of the highways around Columbus, Ohio. We did stop for a very brief walk at Stepping Stones Park in Upper Sandusky; another place where after exterminating all the native Americans we memorialize them; at least that was our feelings after visiting the place.

Hocking Hills is a must-visit place. It was crowded, but that is not surprising since it was a nice warm Sunday afternoon. We had a great hike in the canyon. The most expensive space at the KOA in the area gave us a concrete pad where we finally could get rid of some of the sand we had picked up in Michigan. We have an outdoor rug that we put out, and oh boy, did it accumulate a lot of sand during our beach camping nights

This brings us back to the post about September’s trip that I started out with; Douthat State Park. I hope that I did not bore anyone to death with these travelogs. Let me know. I have tried to add a few of my observations and thoughts in this four/five-part series and tried to stay away from a travelog that goes like: we went here to here and then here; although that is unavoidable. I promise, my next posts will probably again be more political, philosophical and educational. Moreover, one of these days I will write about my impressions of America after four extended trips through this amazing country. But I encourage all of you to travel, see your country and learn from the folks who’s lives you touch in your daily lives and during the trips you take.

Fall in Central Ohio

Hiking in the Hockin Hills, OH

The Hackley Hume Historic site

Camping in Weidman, MI

More detailed account of our Sept. 2025 trip - Part 1 (10/9/2025)

Looking over the railing we watched the lighthouse slowly drifting by. Quick a selfie. Soon, the vastness of the open space. Lake Michigan. The boat slowly started swaying and rocking on the waves of the lake. Not badly, but it was perceptible, especially when you watch the horizon. Just a pleasurable experience.

We are standing on the front deck of the Ferry “The Badger.” Built in 1953 as train ferry to shuttle trains between Ludington, Michigan and Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Now it only ferries vehicles across the lake. We are six days into our fall trip. A trip that will eventually take 16 days. It is taking us, somewhat on a whim, on a drive around Lake Michigan, or so we thought. This was partially prompted by the fact that Wisconsin was the only state in the lower 48 (for the non-US residents, these are the US states excluding Hawaii and Alaska) that I had not set foot in, and partially to try something new this year. We had yet to go camping in our van. I miss it. But, we did not want to do another cross-country drive to Los Angeles this year.

The initial plan was to drive up the eastern coast of Lake Michigan and down the west coast. As we all know, all good plans have the option to change; we wanted to stay away from driving in heavy city traffic. All said and done, we decided to drive to Ludington and take the car ferry across to Manitowoc. We would then eventually drive north along the shore of Lake Michigan and cross back over on the Mackinac bridge (a 5-mile long very tall bridge). Both were somewhat anxiety evoking to my wife. Honestly, both were very pleasurable crossings, and absolutely no anxiety was needed (more later).

You are required to travel a few days when you live in Virginia and want to catch the ferry across Lake Michigan. The first two days were spent at the Shenandoah River State Park, where we hiked and visited the Shanandoah National Park. We hiked 2 miles on the Appalachian Trail which gave us some gorgeous vistas of the Shenandoah valley.

After crossing 5 state boundaries (in order: Maryland, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, back to West Virginia and then finally Ohio) we ended up at a camping near Lisbon, Ohio. It was a nice ride, but the camping was so, so. The camping included a good education on how some people live. The manager (or camp host) was a gal who lived with her husband and two kids in a nice large trailer. They had moved to the area from Montana for his job at a nearby refinery. It seemed that the couple just moved from job to job. Follow the money. Then she would pick up some odd jobs here and there, while home schooling the kids. However, this year their oldest had wanted to go to a real (public) school. The next morning a school bus dutifully stopped in front of the camping to pick her up.

We visited friends near Ann Arbor the next night and in the morning, we continued our trip to Ludington. I had screwed up and booked the ferry a day earlier than intended. It meant postponing our planned trip to Holland, Michigan to our return trip. Once in Ludington we visited a microbrewery in town and to the delight of our dogs spent a night in a motel room. In the brewery our dogs provided a rich source of interaction with the folks around us. I do not remember any earth-shaking interactions with folks in Ludington. The beer was decent, but the pizza was strange and fair.

Getting on the ferry and the ferry ride itself was a different story. It was rich with human interactions. Folks with dogs get singled out and their vehicles are boarded last. We had fun walking the dogs before boarding and interacting with fellow dog owners. On board you kept running into the same folks and mid-voyage you were escorted down below to check on the pouches. We really got to know one couple with whom we discussed their vehicle set-up (Ford F-150 pickup with a hybrid package and a camper shell), in particular because we learned that they drove to Alaska in 2024. They also gave us the name of one of their favorite camping spots on the UP (upper peninsula) of Michigan.

The ferry ride was absolutely fun and relaxing. The ferry (the Badger) is an old coal-fired steamship that was built in 1953. Naturally, that fact created a bond between me and the boat, since I was born the same year. The boat served as a railroad ferry, and you can still see the railroad tracks on the boat’s vehicle deck. The ride was 4 hours and the waters on the lake were relatively calm. The boat has two restaurants/snack bars, gift shop, museum and of course the famous Badger Bingo.

The Badger

Breakfast in Manchester, MI

Lighthouse selfie

Boarding the Badger (see the old train tracks?)

The end of a trip (10/2/2025)

A CCC (Civilian Conservation Corp) log-cabin in the woods on a lake, not a bad thing to end a vacation. The cabin was built around the mid-1930s and obviously was restored and upgraded over time. I remember staying in one some 15 years ago; the floors were rough-sawn planks, now they look like (fake) oak flooring; the kitchen is upgraded, as is the bathroom. Now it even has a covered porch and a nice steel and wire baluster. But it is still rustic; you can see the lake through the trees. An occasional vehicle passes by on the road below.

A sixteen-day vacation book-ended by two 2-day stays in cabins at Virginia state parks: Shenandoah River State Park going, and Douthat State Park returning. It is nice to unwind and relax for two days after 14 days on the road. I tried to make it less frantic, for example, we stayed two days in Door County, Wisconsin at a camping (Wagon trail) that was absolutely one of our favorites. Although I tried to keep each day of driving under 200 miles or theoretically under 4 hours of traveling, we never got to our next destination before 4 pm. Too many fun side trips to natural areas to walk the dogs, or interesting lunch stops. There were the McDonalds, Subways, Arby and Wendys stops for lunch as well, not endorsing anyone.

We were off grid in Douthat, and most of our trip we have tried to keep away from the news. Some news was not easy to avoid since we tried to keep our Wordle streak going and had to sneak a peak at the New York times headlines every time we wanted to solve the various puzzles.

But there were times that we had to look. This was the case when Donna said: “Oh shit, Kim mentions on her Facebook page something about a shooting in Michigan.” We had just exited Michigan the day before and were on our way home driving through central Ohio on our way the glorious Hocking Hills when she mentioned that. When it was her turn to drive, I had to look up the event, to find out we had our next mass shooting, now in a Mormon church. It is extremely tragic to lose all this life to senseless gun violence. Moreover, it is unavoidable to ignore events like this, in particular since I am now the president of a church; a very liberal church at that.

It felt good to be away from church, although I am only president since July 1. I enjoy the challenge and managing the church in a neutral, balanced way. However, it is demanding a lot of patients and maturity from me. I like to joke, be cynical, crack dad (or bad) jokes, but now I must behave myself.

Highlights from these 16 days of vacation? Can I really call it a vacation when you are retired and tell folks that every day is Saturday? When I asked a gas station attendant how he was doing, he replied with OK and asked me how my day was. I told him great, especially since I am retired and every day is Saturday. He replied with “I am retarded too.” Anyway, the highlights include our brief walk on the Appalachian Trail; the visit to our friends in Michigan (for whatever reason); the ferry ride across Lake Michigan; all three camp sites in Wisconsin (Wagon Trail, O.J. Fuller and Big Knob); the Sleeping Bear Dunes; the Hocking Hills and now off grid at Douthat State Park.

It has been a fabulous trip; we have seen and learned a lot. I will write more about it in future posts.  Finally also, I now have set foot in all 48 states in the lower 48. Still missing are Hawaii and Alaska. Oh, what a challenge.

Last leg of the trip first; Douthat SP

Yes, we traveled with our dogs

Relaxing on the porch of the CCC cabin at Douthat SP.

Hocking Hill, SP

Made it to Holland, Michigan

A nice night at a campground without mosquitoes

Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore

Seuk Choix Pointe Lighthouse

Camping on the shores of Lake Michigan, sand and mosquitoes 

Ellison Bluff State Natural Area, Wisconsin

On the Badger, the ferry from Ludington (MI) to Manitowoc (WI) a 4 hour ride across Lake Michigan

My eulogy/autobiography (7/4/2025)

I just turned 72 and am sitting here on pins and needles waiting for the word that my first grandson was born. This will be a thing of the past by the time this writing will be made public, either as part of a memoire and/or a blog post. Why now, can we blame turning 72, my grandson, or my daughter or her wife for this introspection? I don’t know; it is probably a combination of a lot of things.

I am in a men’s group, and we assigned ourselves the project of writing our own eulogy. If that wasn’t enough, during a birthday get together a good friend asked me all kinds of biographical questions, and unbeknown to me he taped the whole conversation. He showed me that he was recording it after my birthday dinner at a Mexican restaurant. This made me feel self-conscious, and together with the fact that I now will have someone to carry on the torch (a grandson), it made me want to record a little more of mine and my family’s history. I have done a bit of this already in some of my blog posts, and I may refer to them when appropriate. I expect that I will publish sections of this writing in my blog, again in the hope that those of my direct family that comes after me will read it and find it interesting, useful and informative.

Where to start? But below is a section of the eulogy that I wrote for myself or maybe for those celebrating my life on this blue marble once I kick the proverbial bucket.

“What the heck is Kalemi? Well actually it is a town in the far eastern part of Congo. During colonial times it was the Belgium Congo, and the town was named Albertville after one of Belgium’s monarchs. I (my name) was born in that town on June ??, 195?. We are gathered here to celebrate the premature passing of Jan-Willem or as many of his friends knew him “Jan the man.” As he often told us that when at a doctor’s office no one got up when a name was called, it meant it was his turn to see the doctor. Everybody seemed to have difficulties pronouncing his name, and then when “Jan” got up they seemed even more confused. Is Jan a guy?”

Did it frustrate me that folks had difficulties with my name, my first and last name? Not at all, I found it amusing. In its own way it showcased the lack of cosmopolitan experience that I have observed in this country. Living in Cincinnati in the late 1990s I was always tickled when during our first meeting folks would ask me which high school I had graduated from. Like the majority in the area, they had never spread their wings, and they could obviously not fathom that there was actual life outside Cincinnati. Even more fun was when they told you about the great vacation they had in Indiana, a state maybe less than 20 miles to the west. Here in the Hampton Roads, where I currently live, it is a little less narrow-minded, since there is a large concentration of military and ex-military that have spent time in foreign countries on military installations or at war.

During the clandestinely recorded interview our friend Mason wanted to know how the heck I ended up being born in a small town situated on Lake Tanganyika (or now Lake Tanzania). Well, my father had a job there as director of a furniture company. That raised even more questions, so here we need to pause and start with the story of my father, which then raised the question of how my father and mother met. As you can imagine, the questions never ended.

I'll stop here.  If there is a next post it will be about my father before 1948.

Me as a 10-month-old on Lake Tanganika in the Congo

My dad and I around the same time.

Mother and son

Dolly Sods, WV (4/29/2015)

Today's post brings us out of state, which I think is the second since the start of my blog, now almost two years ago.  Although as I'll show even the post of this visit will somehow bring us back to Yorktown, my current home and the area I write so much about.

I have been on vacation and did some traveling.  Since I call myself the Virginia Nomad, I tend to stay in State, but it is time to write about my trip to Cincinnati last week, or at least of one of my days.  Our trip was partially a walk through memory lane and visiting old friends, but it also included the necessary time enjoying the arts (Pyramid Hill Sculpture Park in Hamilton OH) and spending time in nature (Fernald and Schallenberger Nature Preserves, and the Dolly Sods).  It is the Dolly Sods I want to write a bit about.

Reading on the internet (and who doesn't believe anything that is published there, especially on Wikipedia) we in Yorktown have a connection with this area.  It seems that a German prisoner of war (the Revolutionary War that is) named Johann Dahle (he fought for the British) eventually was allowed to leave the camps and allowed to settle in what was now the Dolly Sods (Dolly is a derivative from Dahle and Sods are a derivative of grassy fields).  It seems Mr. Dahle was taken prisoner after the famous battle in Yorktown during the capitulation of the Brits.  So yes, Yorktown has a connection to this wonderful place.

Dahle was allowed to claim and settle in this because no one wanted it.  History tells me that this was a wild place with impenetrable forests and trees that rivaled the giant sequoias.  I read about reports of trees with a diameter of 12 to 13 feet and more than 80 feet tall.  It seems that there were peat beds that were 6 feet deep.  A friend told me that when he was a biology student at West Virginia University they had field trips to the area and used the peat as trampolines.  The area is still touted as the most southern extent of some Canadian species including the snowshoe hare.

Once the loggers and the railroads found the area nothing was safe.  The area was logged and the peat burned for years, leaving not much else.  These alpine regions are really slow in recovery (if at all).  They have a short growing season, so trees grow slow and the peat accumulates very slowly as well.  Now the peat maybe a foot thick in places, but usually it appeared thinner.  Thank goodness there is now a different ecosystem, one of cranberries, huckleberries, blue berries and alike.  The forest service has planted some hemlocks and firs, but it will take time before they will turn the area back into the majestic forest from the past, if ever.  Sheltered areas have some really neat forests, but they are mere babies compared to what was there before.

I find it regretful that we never got a chance to see even just very minute remnants of what the world would look like without human interference, exploitation or outright destruction.  Yes, truthfully even after complete destruction what remained is also very beautiful, yet stark at times.  I often say that nature is very resilient and that eventually it will develop a new equilibrium.  However, I dare say that in all times this new equilibrium is less than what it was before.  Let's be careful with this earth we live on and protect these unique places.  The Dollie Sods turned into something else that is beautiful and we were lucky this time, but what nature intended is forever lost to us and future generations.  Next time we might not be as lucky.