V I N M A N' s V I B e

Squaw Beach, outside of Big Bay, 25 miles north of Marquette. Photo, Vince Kern. Copyright 2008 -- All Rights Reserved.

Just past noon on this Friday in early June, the regulars at the Hungry Hollow Cafe’ next to Cramm’s General Store in Big Bay, Michigan are coming to life as the sun finally appears on an otherwise blustery day. Omelettes are still being served as folks start a bit later up here, and I’ve just polished off a dandy sausage and cheese.

A large local man with grey hair and a nice smile depsite a missing tooth orders a huge salad. In familiar farmer-blue overalls, a blue tee-shirt and suspenders he seems to be here every time I visit.

“It’s nice out,” he tells Chris the server smiling from under an earthy-colored bandanna. Chris agrees and brings me more coffee as I recall the standards for “nice weather” I maintained when I lived in Marquette. Back then, 58 cloudy and near-drizzly days did, indeed, make one feel like walking.

I feel happy for the lumberjack and the weather changes to on and off sunshine faster than my comparisons mattered.

Another local blonde woman sits chatting with Chris at the diner bar about her husband’s work and crazy truck drivers bringing logs through here this week. And behind me, two men I have not seen yet sit chatting about the weekend and reminding each other about attending “Aggie’s birthday party at 2 o’clock Saturday.”

Aggie is our neighbor and dear friend on Squaw Beach who visits from town in the summer. At age 89 tomorrow, her son Pete may agree to let her “retire” from her cabin duties but I wouldn’t bet on it. Peter Tenyke is a local man who covers a lot of territory. He is fire chief, county employee and overall goodwill ambassador for this small town of about 550 located 25 miles north of Marquette. He knows full well Aggie will never stop being busy and only teases her with a life of leisure.

On our section of the beach there’s work to do. My sister Andrea, brother-in-law Jim and I arrived yesterday to buckle down for some cleaning and R&R in between. So far, we’re off to a slow, but good start. But I wish our other sister brother and my lovely wife, Sheila, could be here too.

And so it goes up here, folks will arrive from several states throughout the day but won’t overwhelm the peacefully-removed-spirit of this area. We’ll watch the weather to see how things develop, looking for glorious beach sun or stars at night.

No matter, there’s an uplifting sameness to seeing my smiling well-fed breakfast friend, the lumberjack, write a check for his meal while the chef sits at the bar and chats with regulars. The men behind me have decided on pie and so that’s my que to go.

Otherwise, I will turn a thousand-plus calorie breakfast into a pie-laden napping afternoon instead of working. Hmmmmmm…….

And we call this a working trip up  north…………..

–30–

(C) Photo copyright by Vincent J. Kern -- 2008 -- All rights reserved.

 A hundred feet out in Big Bay of Lake Superior and it’s shallow enough to still stand on the bottom, in water up to my neck. There are no clouds, no boats, no airplanes and no real worries at all.

And especially, no more spoony thoughts of the 2008 Detroit Tigers’ chance to make the playoffs.

Long having attained relaxation here this week, I have finally shed the last visage of stress in my life this morning: caring about the Tigers’ fate this year. Stayed up until midnight to watch extra innings in a game that should have already been won (again) and went to bed to avoid watching (again) a walk-off winning home run in the bottom of the 14th inning after the Tigers had gone ahead.

But enough about that.

Standing in Lake Superior with eye-level, crystal clear fresh water is as good as it gets. There is no other treatment for a body and soul that is as refreshing. None, I challenge you!

The temperature of the water is such that your inner-core cools to a perfect refreshing chill. It’s as if any stress toxins are simply sought out and politely escorted out by the water.

The clarity of vision one has in this water is near perfect. One can look down in the neck-high water and count the number of small hairs on one’s leg (if one were so inclined to do so). Or better yet, swim under the cool drink and open your eyes to spy the sandy bottom in clear sight all around.

On a perfect August beach day, the outside temperature is about 80-something, no humidity, a bit of a breeze, and the sun is extremely direct. A bit of frolicking on the beach is the perfect preparation for a baptismal, cooling dip.

The cleansing chill and ultimate refreshment lasts through the day. Even a bit of your favorite warming beverage cannot dissolve the theraputic, soul-clensing action of Lake Superior.

It’s as good as it gets.

I think I’ll call Jim Leyland and invite him up for a dip – I bet he could use a little better “good as it gets” these days.

– 30 –

(c) Photo by Vincent J. Kern -- 2003 -- Copyright and All Rights reserved

  Crown Royal, with water, on the rocks please.   

Spectacular beach weather has returned. Nothing else to say. Nothing else needs to be said.

–30 –

(c) Photo by Vincent J. Kern — 2003 — Copyright and All Rights reserved

I’m leaving today on a venture to build one of these.

A fire.

But not just an ordinary fire.

I will build a fire of the soul.

A fire that burns away the ordinary toxins that accumulate in my inner-being and block my muse.

And a fire that returns imagination, peace, vision and clarity after quiet visual focus on its magical moving miracle.

The Vibe in my house as we prepare to depart can only be summed up this way: GRAY. Dark clouds move in slowly as if making an attempt to arrive unnoticed. My oldest cat seems to already sense something is amiss in his world. He sits next to me on a box staring, asking for love, which of course he gets.

But this is breakaway day, the day I’ve been waiting for and I must move on.

Off to The Place of solitude, beauty, and the awesome confines of water and sky, unabated on Squaw Beach.

Alone there for the first time since 1995, there will be unique freedoms for us this trip.

And so it begins this morning, now 7:45 o’clock. We’re behind the game, but there is no rush…it just doesn’t matter when we leave or arrive on this Venture.

Yet, it is time to turn my attention to other things, away from writing and on to preparations, packing and departure. Sometime tonight, the first destination — the beach, will have been obtained. Then it’s off to the second, my inner soul.

Fewer miles to traverse to get to my inner-being, but it’s still a deep journey through the universe into my soul that could take days.

–30–

The Countdown Begins…….5 Days

Yellow Dog River Between Marquette and Big Bay, MI

(c) Photo by Vincent J. Kern — 2005 — Copyright and All Rights reserved

It wont be long now, just five days.

Then, it’s of to Squaw Beach near Big Bay, Michigan and an annual summer jaunt to our family place on Lake Superior. Days of sandy beach, ice cold pure and crystal-clear waters of Gitchegume, biking, waking, perhaps some roller blading and certainly some windy days with lots of rest and snoozing.

But unlike usual years, it will be quiet.

No parents (away on a rare summer travel), a sister who cannot make it from New York (very sad news) and not even nieces and friends until late in the week. It will be different, but I am hoping to at least present some good new photos and sound thoughts here during the respite from work and responsibility.

There was a time when things could be planned pretty much precisely regarding these visits. Dad and I would open the cottage just before Memorial Day as we journeyed together alone to rake pine needles and rake leaves. The amount of work we reported was always much more than the reality of the results. But it was a great time for us.

Our visits were always in the third week of August and until Labor Day. This year, we’re going up earlier due to work schedules.

So, tonight, it’s the beginning of the week-long transistion. I thought I had more thoughts on the matter and important things to say but I do not.

The cats are crashing, the electronic music on the cable channel has put me into a mellow trance where the tapping on the keyboard is a bit too much noise.

But I will say this……..I hope I can bring some small amount of joy to my sister who won’t be there next week via some reporting on The Vibe.

She’s one hell of a woman!

– 30 –