Wednesday, June 19 (cont'd)
As we drove along the upper peninsula, we saw this sign, "Scenic Area." Boy am I glad they told us!
Frank, a friend in San Diego who is from this area, told us we must have some pasties. So we have been looking for some authentic ones before we leave Michigan. When we stopped for gas, John asked for a recommendation. The attendant told him to go to Randalls. They also had a conversation about the price of diesel which was $3.85. However, she said, "Yeh but did you see the price of the other diesel?" It was $4.90 for a more refined grade used by the logging truckers in the winter. While they were talking, a "lady" with a six pack of Tall Boys stepped right in front of John to pay. He figured she was in bad need and didn't say anything!
Hey, this bank temperature gauge is registering 77 degrees! This may be a record on our trip. At least it feels like it.
We found Randall's bakery. It was now late in the afternoon, and there were people sitting outside, trying to stay cool. A couple of older ladies were running the bakery. They looked like they had been running it for some time, and that they made all of the baked goods inside. They hears us out as we explained that we would like to try some pasties, but didn't know anything about them. Then one of them said," OW, a mosquito just flew in my ear. I hate when that happens!" A particularly wet spring was the cause, they said, and the bakery was full of them.
They told us the Finnish miners were particularly fond of the pasties. There were a lot of Finns in the area, they confirmed. and they were having a big DO in Houghton on the weekend.
Thee chairs on a side lawn outside the bakery looked inviting, but we trudged back to the truck with our warm pasties in hand and decided they would be dinner.
We are back on Route 2. We have followed it off and on across a lot of the northern country, and think maybe we will be on this road longer than we were on Route 10 in Texas. The whole road is 2,571 miles long. It follows the old Theodore Roosevelt International Highway. It begins in New York and terminates in Everett Washington. We will see it again and again!
All of a sudden we are in Wisconsin! It is state number 23 on the trip. And we changed time zones along the way! We are out of the Eastern Time Zone and into the Central.
Lots of unpronounceable Indian names along here. I read that while the eastern states tried to emulate the British and named everything for English towns, etc., the farther west you go, the more things that were given Indian names.
We are headed up the shoreline of Wisconsin toward an area called Apostle Islands National Lakeshore Preserve. We came to the town of Bayview and found a little smoked fish shop where we purchased whitefish and lake trout. We also bought some smoked fish spread. The woman behind the counter was selling for her son and nephew, who catch the fish and have it smoked. She makes the spread.
We found a little park called Dalrymple, owned by the municipality of Bayview. So much for the Indian name theory! It only had 30 camp sights, and we had a clear view of the lake and the emerging islands. Delightful!
We partook of our smoked fish spread
And some of the smoked fish.
And then we had our pasties and some salad. Delicious!
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