Michigan - Summer 2012

Familial responsibilities, and an innately American need to spend way more money than we actually earn, prompted us to take to the air and, via Atlanta and Chicago, head up to Michigan once again for a visit.

Humans should not be this high off the ground.

Chicago from the air.  We flew into Midway and rented a Nissan Altima with the intention of driving up the west coast of Lake Michigan and up over the U.P. to the Straits of Mackinac. 

Even in the Windy City they have organ donors.

More Chicago.  We did not stop.  Cities like Chicago are intimidating to us hillbillies from toothless bible-thumping inbred backwater cities.  Note I am  in fact linking to a news source from out of town.  This is because there isn't a reputable newspaper here locally for me to quote from, although we do have a hell of an entertainment rag that is a great place to get your concert info, beer specials, and ironically enough, your LGBT hot-date classifieds.  Oh, if only the bible-thumpers could actually read they would have a field day with that one.

But I digress.

Next door to the stadium, as if you didn't get your belly filled there during the game.

We drove north along the lake to Green Bay where we stayed in the Hampton Inn and had dinner at a funky joint across from Lambeau Field called Kroll's.  The place is a Packer fan's dream, loaded with weird green and yellow doodads promoting the hometown team and featuring a menu loaded with weird doodads promoting heart disease and triple bypass surgery.  The food was great though, and the restaurant was a fun slice of Green Bay and something universally viewed by locals as a must do for the thru-traveler.  Try the Fried Cheese Curds and the Butter Burgers, and if you must have a fruit/vegetable or healthy choice option from the menu, might I suggest the Fried Perch Platter.

Lambeau Field.

Across the street from Kroll's, Lambeau looms.  I did point out to our server that I was a Buccaneers fan and that I wasn't interested in buying a t-shirt that was covered with Packer crap.  She obliged me by selling me the 50/50 poly cotton blend T shown above, and by blowing her nose in my Fried Cheese Curds.  

OK not really.

But maybe.

Satan's Altima.

The next day, after a few hours driving up and around the U.P., three things were apparent:  First, the U.P. is boring as dirt to drive through, unless you have a truck full of fishing poles or moose antlers.  Second, the U.P. is boring as dirt to drive through unless you like to carve life size bears from tree stumps and wink seductively at your sister, (it does get COLD after all, and she is probably sorta porky and warm.) And finally, with a range of 666 miles on a full tank of gas, we were in fact driving the Nissan from Hell, and Hell would have been a more entertaining drive than the U.P.

We arrived at the hotel across the Straits of Mackinac and noticed that our hotel was quite the tacky tourist trap.  Even though we were at a Clarion Hotel, one of the containers on the coffee counter had clearly been stolen from a Hampton Inn.  There wasn't even a Hampton Inn in town, so the guilty party would have had to steel the container and relocate it to the Clarion from points out of town.  Hospitality Industry Espionage?