More detailed account of our Sept. 2025 trip - Part 2 (10/19/2025)

Arrived in Manitowoc, Wisconsin, after a pleasurable four-hour ferry ride. Ah, my last state in the lower 48! Our vehicle was the second one being unloaded from the ferry and off we went, before most of the others vehicles came off. A quick stop at a park along the harbor to allow the dogies to relieve themselves after being cooped up in a swaying van for five hours. The plan was to drive only approximately 100 miles to Ellison Bay where if everything went well, we would stay two nights.

We had to stop in the town of Two Rivers to visit a knitting store. The town had a festival, which we walked through since the knitting store was right in the middle of the festivities. Parking was at a premium, and we parked at a paid lot. We got to talk with the parking “manager.” This was an older lady with young girls around her. The local credit union had asked the high school to manage their lot, since they were open on Saturday mornings and needed to keep rogue parkers away from the lot so they could service customers. The curse of having a downtown bank at festival time. I forgot which high school club the proceeds were for, but I bet it was a good fundraiser. They told me that there will be another festival in two weeks. I guess they need to get their parties in, up there in the cold north, before the world freezes over. This is the Green Bay area also known as the frozen tundra. Interestingly, we were told that in winter, people drive their vehicles as far as one mile far on Lake Michigan to go ice fishing. We bought a dozen cookies from one of the stalls at the festival, and they gave us heartburn.

On the road again. Now our regular quest for ice, to keep our perishables cool. Amazing how all small convenience/gas station stores are staffed (owned or managed?) by what appear to be either folks from Indian, Pakistani, or Middle Eastern decent. Even in the cold environments of northern Wisconsin or Michigan. Somehow, I felt sorry for these folks, for one because of what I assume the winters in these areas would feel like and on the other hand what discomfort must haunt them knowing that ICE and their boss ICE-Barbie (Kristi Noem) might be looking to deport them. (ICE = U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement). As is the case very often, there are not a lot of people that are willing or able to own, manage or staff these types of stores. Later, during our drive home, on a Sunday morning, in Ohio the 25-year-old (Indian looking and sounding) attendant told me (at 10 am) that he was tired. He had to get up at 5 in the morning to open and run the gas station in this God-forsaken little village in central Ohio.

If you look at a map of Wisconsin, there is this thin peninsula sticking in Lake Michigan just east of Green Bay. A large section of this peninsula is in Door County. I had decided to camp at the far tip of the peninsula at the highest rated camping I could find. Our camping, The Wagon Trail, did not disappoint us; it was worth a two-day stay. Getting there from Two Rivers took us through small towns, Algoma used to have a train ferry to the other side (Green Bay to Frankfort?). Baileys Harbor was party central. In that town we saw two weddings, two microbreweries and a winery. We tried the winery and found it mediocre. I have a friend who is a major, award winning vintner in Washington State and he mentioned that a lot of these types of wineries truck in tank wagons of grape juice to make wine from. It definitely tasted like cheap wine, but they charge premium prices.

The Ellison Bay area and the Wagon Trail camping were magnificent. Absolutely worth a two-day visit and maybe more. I would like to return and make it at least a three-day stop-over. The first evening and night we had a few terrific thunderstorms including some small hail, which sounded nice on the van roof. We had some nice nature walks: Sand Bay Park/Beach and Ellison Bay Bluff State Natural Area. A restaurant in Ellison Bay proper: Della Porta, was stylish and the food was delicious. In the next post I will chronicle the next leg of the trip, back into Michigan and homewards.

Walking the dogs after arriving in Manitowoc and looking back at our ferry.

Looking over the Green Bay from Ellison Bay Bluff State Park

A neat trail to Sandy Bay Park

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

Get on those barricades (8/18/2025)

As you may have seen in my previous posts, I have been writing about my life and of my immediate family. However, I am currently hitting somewhat of a wall. I guess that happens when you have been reading, listening and watching too much news and combining that with the responsibility as president for a board that is responsible for running a church. Don’t worry, I am not going religious on you. While Unitarian Universalism is definitively a religion, it should not be confused to proselytizing religions. Our motto is that we except folks from all religious and philosophical walks of life. This includes atheists and humanists. We don’t recruit much, but maybe we should; I think a lot of folks could find a spiritual home with us.

But let’s take a step back. These past few months we have been bombarded by news that the climate is worsening including the horrible floods in Texas where at least 135 people died; floods in Milwaukee, New England, New York City, etc.; a pretty strong earthquake and tsunami warnings; wild fires all over the world; and hurricane Erin that went from a category 1 (75 to 95 miles per hour wind) to a category 5 (more than 157 miles per hour or 252 km per hour) within 18 hours. We learn about a flip-flopping tRump who now supports Rusia again, or worse has given us whiplash from his tariff games. Finally, I cannot escape talks about sexual predators on television or in my own life, and no, I am absolutely not one of them, nor have I ever been abused. I have simply not been able to find any good news these past few months. So, why the hell write about my youth and my family; I should be on the barricades.

The Buddhists tell me to live in the moment and enjoy the shitshow. Stoics tell me that even living in the moment will not do it, since this last word I typed in already in the past. They tell me to concentrate on things that I (think) have control over. Talking about barricades, I have participated in a few demonstrations, but is that control? Maybe I have taken control of some of my frustrations by these actions. It definitively feels good to be among peers, people who think the same. However, it sure does not look like I am changing anyone’s mind.

Looking at the blogs that I wrote over the past 12 or so years, I have been warning you about climate change, political extremeness, war, gun violence, the environment, stormwater, soils, life on or near the water, and I occasionally write about life and bonsai. I am hoping that that the occasional post may affect some of you in a positive way; although I have no illusions that I can change the world this way. I confess, I am not doing a damn thing about it except write about it. Yes, I pick up the dog poop when we walk our animals; I recycle (not the poop); we have not used fertilizers or pesticides in our home in years (except my bonsai); we have little to no lawn to speak of; we drive a hybrid; and we vote. Remember, your vote matters!

What message am I trying to convey in this post, what charge am I giving you? I don’t know, maybe this is just a bitch session, a bitch post. Maybe I am trying to get myself motivated to do more; to write more; to bitch more, in the hope to change maybe one mind a year; to get you all motivated to work harder to change this world for the better, for your children and grandchildren. Our descendants deserve a livable world when we are no longer here. Fuck the fake republican fear of budget deficits, environmental deficits make the world unlivable whether we have a balanced budget or not. Let’s get on those barricades together and change the world.

Stolen from the movie Les Misérables

The Story of my parents (Part 2) (8/4/2025)

Back to 1940. A few days after the Dutch government surrendered my grandparents on my father’s side got a knock at the door. The visitor was someone from the red cross informing my grandmother that one of her son’s had died during the Battle of the Grebbeberg. The visitor handed Wim’s military dog tag to my oma and he left. I have been told that my distraught oma locked herself into a private room and meditated for three days. My oma was a known fortune teller; family lore told us that one of her foremothers was a gypsy fortune teller. I remember that when I was young, during card games with my oma, she would suddenly gasp when she looked at the new hand she had been dealt and say something like “Oh my someone I know will become ill and will be dying soon.” She would refuse to tell you who the person was and that made it even more spine-chilling.

When my oma exited her room after three days, she announced that “Wim wasn’t dead.” Less than a week later Wim walked in the home, very much alive. His partner in the foxhole had been killed and Wim had swapped dog tags with the dead body in the attempt to hide his identity and enable him to join the resistance without implicating the family. The story goes that my grandmother’s hair had turned white during the three days of meditation. She had been a redhead before the episode.

It also seems that my dad worked in France during the early part of WWII. This might have been in 1940 or 41. He never told us much about it, except that he lived or spend time in a brothel in northern France (near Amiens?). While I assume he had a good time with the ladies, he never provided a lot of details of his life there. I found old photographs which showed him on a building site at an airport. On a few pictures you can see him doing some kind of roofing job; he was sitting on top of the roof rafters. I can assume that this was a work camp of sorts. The Germans forced a lot of young adults into forced labor. Jan, my mother’s oldest brother ended up in a labor camp (the concentration camp Bergen-Belsen) and died there two days after being liberated by the Americans.

What happened after that is somewhat of a mystery. I don’t know when exactly it took place, but my dad told me that he tried to escape to either a neutral or an allied country, and he traveled to Finland to try to cross the border into Sweden. I assume he somehow left or escaped the labor camp in France. He probably made it back to the Netherlands and took off for Sweden. I am not sure what his route was, except that he spent some time in Latvia. My research shows that Latvia was officially occupied by the German Army in July 1941 during operation Barbarossa when Hitler tried to invade Russia. Latvia remained under German occupation until October 1944. I also wonder how the heck he was able to do this as a young adult (it must have been in either 1941, 42 or 43, so he was between 19 to 21 year-old) without attracting the attention of the Germans and being (re)captured; however, it seems that he made it to Rovaniemi in Finland and spent the winter there.

The stories that my dad told me of this time include an account of him sitting in a soup kitchen in Latvia across from an elder man with a Jewish star on his jacket. My father told me he was able to sneak one of his id-s in the hope that the guy could use it to stay out of the hands of the Nazis. Stories of Finland include tales of cold, darkness, skiing, drinking and saunas. I learned about one of his buddies who was drunk and went outside to relieve himself. They found him, the next morning, just outside the door dead, frozen solid. Dad told me that they assumed that he tripped and that was it. Dad was never able to cross the Swedish border and somehow made it back to Holland.

Here it gets strange. When I got an interview for a job at a company in Amersfoort, my father insisted on going with me, and he and Donna went to visit the site of Kamp Amersfoort. After my interview they took me there, as well. It seems that my father ended up in that camp after the Finland episode. Amersfoort was a work/transfer camp. I am not sure how long he was back before he was captured. Kamp Amersfoort seemed to house a few Jews, but mostly workcamp evaders waiting for transfer to work camps in Germany. Furthermore, it had some resistance fighters, black marketeers and Russian prisoners of war. It seems that the surviving Russians (Uzbeks) were executed after a few months. Dad talked about having to work in the camp filling sandbags. He told us that he responded to an inquiry by the Germans if there was someone who could operate a train. The train was taking the sandbags to a point from where they were shipped to who knows where. Dad told us that he volunteered but did not know how to drive a train. The train promptly derailed. Did dad sabotage it? He claimed he did, but I am not sure. It could also have been pure incompetence. He told us that he was put in the “Rose Garden”, an enclosure surrounded by barbwire and had to stand in it for 36 hours without water and food.

He became ill with dysentery in the camp and credits his survival on a Russian guard who somehow smuggled in opium which stopped the diarrhea. Amersfoort was mostly a transfer camp. Jews were sent to extermination camps in Germany and the non-Jews to work camps. At times they were the same camps. It is therefore no surprise that my father was put on a transport train to the German concentration camp Buchenwald. It appears that he was not sitting in a cattle car but in a regular passenger car with guards. This might be a separation between the forced labor and the Jews, who I am sure were stuck in cattle carts. Somehow the Dutch resistance jumped the train near Venlo, overwhelmed the guards and my father was thrown out of the slow riding train. He was still very ill and somehow made it to a nunnery or cloister in Belgium, where he was rehabilitated. He told us that he was in a coma for approximately a week. “I saw the light,” he often told me, a near-death experience.

There is another gap in his stories and the next one he told me about was that he joined the Canadian soldiers in the spring of 1945 when they fought their way through the Netherlands, freeing it from the Germans. They were sitting in a barn somewhere in Over-IJssel or the Achterhoek when all the sudden a projectile came flying through one of those typical thatched roofs that many Dutch farmhouses and barns had. It had gotten stuck in the thatch, not exploded and was hanging above their heads. One of the soldiers was brave enough to climb on a chair and decommission the bomb while it was hanging in and from the ceiling. He mentioned that this was one of the scariest episodes in his life. And there you have it, my father’s life till the end of World War II, as I can remember from his stories.

A picture of my mother and her friend Hennie being silly during the war.  The sign says "Safety order, it is forbidden to take pictures or have cameras on you.  The storm troupes from the Netherlands."  These were the German troupes stationed and/or recruited in the Netherlands under Hitler.