Day One of a Ten Day Forecast
August 24, 1996
The morning started and I looked good, my hair was perfect. I was decent in a pair of olive green shorts and grey silk camp shirt, if not a bit disheveled. The end of this "car" day would immediately change any decency to a state of wrinkles.
Clogs slipped onto bare feet was all that was needed to complete the repertoire. The pain of wearing them causes me to think myself a heroine to the cause of vanity.
Our van, a Chevy Astro, is big and white. Translation: Ugly Giant. Fortunately it is well equipped to store the yet, unbought hockey memorabilia we will be bringing home.
My hockey skates are safely tucked under me and I have blank books and a Jane Austen close enough for pure comfort. Dad couldn't understand my passion for bringing my hockey skates. "You know," I claimed "there's no telling when one might need hockey skates." To be stuck without them would be burdensome indeed.
Already I get car sick, I can tell this will be a fun vacation!
In Chicago along Michigan Avenue, streets were blocked and the walkways were packed. The pre democratic convention 'party' was already in full swing. Sails littered the expansive lake.
We had three goals, 1: Cheli's Chili Bar, 2: Hawk Quarters, and 3: The United Center. Finding Hawk Quarters was easy, however after driving several blocks the wrong way we got stuck in a traffic jam. This jam was caused by a legal protest of marching marijuana activists who never left the 60's.
We finally turned around, positive we weren't going to find the United Center or Cheli's restaurant. After going under several layers of roadworks to find a place to park we got to the Hawk store.
Getting our prize possessions back in the car we tooled our way down Madison Avenue, following the directions to Cheil's. Finally as we were leaving the most populated part of downtown everyone gave up, but me. Looking at road maps and trying to find out how to get out of town, I screamed "There it is!"
Dad made a quick two lane u-turn into Cheli's parking lot (there was a police car behind us at this time). Everything was deserted. It kinda made you feel like Wallyworld.
After leaving Chicago and heading towards Detroit we got one of the last rooms available at a motel.
We read some papers and brochures and I took note of an authentic 50's and 60's diner that had been around since 1934! We fell asleep in a room full of centipedes and creaking picture frames.
Day Two
August 25th, 1996
It's Sunday, I woke up to Dad bouncing the bed saying "It's 5:30, time to get up, let's go."
To which he was promptly quieted by angry protests from Mom and I. We got up at 7:30 which was late to Dad and much to early for us. I'm now being rushed to put everything away including the pen I write with, despite Dad's last words as he left the room "take your time." Dad and Jim are out playing track-ball fulfilling their mission to play in every state. They don't have to worry about Indiana in the very near future.
About 10:51 we decided we were hungry. After having driven for about 2 hours it was time to eat, after closer inspection we realized it was actually 9:51. For two hours we'd been driving in Eastern Time. So maybe we'll have breakfast again.
At 11:00 (excuse me, 10:00) we knew we were in hockey country. A sign for a Sports Rock Cafe had a hockey stick and puck on it, instead of baseball and glove. Celebration ensued.
Measley corn, too many trees, and few expanses of painful plains has so far consisted of Michigan, the... What is there slogan anyway? You don't have to go far to find food, gas, or humanity. Quite a difference than driving through Nebraska, where the opposite holds true.
Some of the grasses out my window look invitingly comfortable, I could live here with relative ease. By the end of this day I'll be in the home of my beloved Red Wings.
40 Minutes later we realized we were going East, not West! This vacation we are not going to Colorado! We are going East. The time was not 11:00 it was 12:00! Boy don't we feel stupid, humble pie sure is tasty.
Ann Arbor was our lunch spot before heading to Dearborn. In Dearborn we found a place to stay the night and then headed for the Ford Museum. The heat inside the building and outside was so tremendous I got sick. Heat never agrees with me and prolonged exposure causes me to faint. So we left after I had drank a whole cup of pop in less than five minutes at the cafe in the museum. I went back to the hotel sick to my stomach and light headed.
After I rested we headed to the Joe Louis Arena. To see it, maybe to touch it. This time going to downtown Detroit we got into another traffic jam. A stalled car was the cause. Trying to get to the Arena we turned into the Canadian tunnel and almost crossed the boarder before we even knew where we were going. Joe Louis Arena was labeled in big letters across the front of the metal looking building. A semi-big sign said Joe Louis the Home of the Red Wings. But we couldn't get close to it couldn't touch it. Walls, gates, and streets kept us at a safe distance. There were no stores, no shops, no nothing on a Sunday night. Disappointed and slightly crabby we went searching for nourishment.
Detroit, motor city, Red Wing city, it seems to be a sad city. Buildings broken down, boarded up, and burned. It's not a pretty city, so far anyway.
It always makes me wonder how people live wherever I am, or where I'm visiting. Like Chicago. These cities, they're pretty, they're exciting, they're interesting, but I couldn't live in them, they're not practical, not reality. Dreamlike unreality.
Day Three
August 26th, 1996
It felt so nice to be clean this morning, after showering. Mom and I had breakfast down in the sunroom of the Hotel. It consisted mainly of doughnuts, juice, fruitloops, hot cereal, muffins, and hot tea. The tea was nice, it was only Darjeleeng, I would have preferred a strong English (or Irish) Breakfast or a mint herbal.
It was cool this morning and the wind blew through my hair with a chilling freshness.
We checked out of the hotel and made our way to the Ford Estate. We parked and followed the poor directions to the complaints of Jim and Dad. Oh that estate, I could live in it, all because of the grounds. The grounds themselves were enough to make you fall in love with it. We didn't go inside the house, it would have taken too long and we didn't have the time. Too bad, I would have liked to. The estate was located on the U of M and Dearborn campus.
We left and went to the Fair Lane mall next door. First we looked in all the sporting stores for Red Wings stuff without much luck. T-shirts and jersey's yah, but not much else. I then drug my family into Eddie Bauer to get a backpack, atlas, and seabands to keep me from getting car sick. Yes, they do work, because I'm safely writing without getting the least big carsick. However the white pressure buttons leave nice red bruises on your wrists.
We left after this to go downtown again to look for a Red Wing store. Off the flashing electronic sign we got a number for Wings merchandise 1 800-WINGS-25.
We had to cross the border under a tunnel, for a claustrophobic I did a pretty good job. Where are you from? Where are you going? What are you taking with you? All these asked quickly and we were in Canada.
After a very long car drive we crossed the boarder back into the States and found a hotel in Niagara Falls. We spent half an hour to an hour watching the falls and then went back to the hotel. It was nice, big, splashing, misty, wet, it looked just like all the pictures I've seen. The pool was crowded with splashing little kids and so we had pie at the Denny's in the hotel.
Now that we were thoroughly sick we went back to our room. Mom and I tried the pool an hour later. Still more kids littered the pool's surface. We couldn't even get up the elevators. So we walked up the steps to the third floor, thankful we weren't on the seventh floor. I complained the whole way. Kids weren't supposed to be up and 10:00 at night. Tomorrow we're blowing this place and going to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Oh I wish I were in Colorado, where the land would be deserted and we'd have it all to ourselves. The people there would actually be speaking English! It's not that I'm prejudiced, but It'll be nice to get back home where you're sure people are actually speaking something you can understand. I hate tourists!
Day Four
August 27th, 1996
We woke up to clouds and rain and within the hour it was a monsoon. We packed and got ready as we watched CBC. Their accents are thrilling, but I always did love Canadians.
We packed the car and checked out. I wanted to go to the Danskin outlet across the street, but it didn't open for another half hour, so we headed over to Canada. We stopped at the currency exchange and got some Canadian cash. We also picked up brochures on Toronto. We all fought over the Hockey Hall of Fame brochure.
The rain has stopped, but the skies are still extremely grey. Everyone is quiet in the car, a complete change from yesterday. I speak mainly in the vicinity of Jim. I have my wrist bands on just in case, I can't risk getting sick before the Hall of Fame.
We got into Toronto and were greeted by billboards made out of the grass on the side of the hill. I thought they were much prettier than any colorful, skyhigh, billboard could ever be.
We got into the heart of the city and I anxiously looked for the building front of the Hall of Fame. We drove around in a daze looking for an un-full parking lot.
They made you wind around just to get into the hall. We hate before we got in at a place called Müven-something-or-other (I forget what it was called). It was very good. It was like a pick-your own-outdoor-cafe, only it was indoors. They had some luscious looking blueberry and strawberry tarts all shiny and glistening.
We finally got in and were marched in front of glass cases full of sticks, jerseys, pucks, tickets, cups, and plaques and trophies of all sorts. You could view jerseys and logos of all teams past and present. It was hockey lovers paradise. Goalie masks and skates, old equipment and new. CuJo's most recent mask (the one he wore as a Blues goalies, with the trumpets and musical notes). We tested our skills as goalies and announcers. We watched players suit up for a game. The crowning glory of all were the trophies upstairs. Light shone down from the long windows. Massive woodwork framed the domed structure. The silver of the cups shined giving the whole room a majestic almost holy effect. The Stanley Cup had center stage.
Down below was the store, for all Hall of Fames must have a store. The shop was as crowded as the Hall. There were three registers strategically placed throughout the store.
Glasses, jerseys, cups, hair accessories, umbrellas, pins, key chains, necklaces, baby bibs, flags, jackets, pucks, sticks, toothbrush holders, books, posters, calendars, pens, bumper stickers, pictures, puck holders, hats, wallets, videos, sweaters, t-shirts, baby clothes, toys, and what not.
I could have spent much longer in the shop but Dad was not pleased with the store and so we must leave. All I ended up getting was a Red Wing goalie key chain and a regular hockey player. The Wings player was for myself. The goalie was for Lynne. I had promised to bring back Chris Osgood for Lynne, I figured she'd except the best I could do.
We headed out on the road again to find a place to stay. Mom had a headache so we got going.
We stopped in a town North of Toronto called Barrie. Of all the places I've been this is the sweetest. I love Barrie, it has no tourist junk and the country is soo... homey and beautiful. Barrie has an OHL team called the Colts. I wish to visit this place again.
The night has been the freshest it's been and I hope the farther North I get the sweeter the air will be. The trees, the green crops, and the rich black soil! The grasses go right up next to the little stream.
The Barrie Fair just got over, it would have been nice to go!
Day Five
August 28th, 1996
It's 12:09 and we are beyond Parry Sound at a little picnic ground that is beautiful beyond compare, hidden and by a river. You have to look closely to find gorgeous. There's thick moss that is like a carpet and feels better and cooler on your bare feet than any man-made synthetic fabric. I found a spotted toad in the moss and picked the little thing up, it was no bigger than two of my fingers. I've picked a bright orange flower and pressed it in my book, it's remains are stained on the paper.
My Canada Dry Ginger Ale is sitting greenly on the grey wood of the bench. It's all in French "Soda Gingerembre, Le Champagne des Ginger Ales."
We left Barrie this morning after I got donuts from Tim Hortons. The land just got more beautiful as we headed up Canada.
I told Dad that Parry Sound had a Jr. A hockey team and we knew we'd be stopping. Home of Bobby Orr was the sign that welcomed us. Lakes were everywhere. It was better than Barrie. We drove into Parry and praised everything we saw. The main thing on our mind was "Where's the barn?" Actually the whole trip has consisted of "Where's the barn?"
As we crossed the river I said "that has to be it." On a big building were the words Bobby Orr Sports Complex. If it wasn't a hockey rink than I had misinterpreted Canada. In Toronto the stores that had T.V.'s had the World Cup on, so I know I was right about the rink.
The doors opened in front of me as I walked in behind Jim and Dad, I was in heaven. I could smell the ice, I could smell a rink. I knew I could live in this town.
Bobby Orr's jersey hung in the entry was along with some of his other stuff. Drawing of him and Terry Crisp hung inside. A hockey camp had just been held there with people from as far as Japan, Mexico, and Phoenix. We had just missed Glen Featherstone of the Hartford Whalers, he had practiced there the morning before.
Along main street we stopped in the Shamrock store. There we got hats, pins, and a sweatshirt. Everyone was friendly and had extremely good manners. The whole town had a friendly, easy going atmosphere. Yes... yes, this has all been more than I expected. In fact it has far exceeded all my thoughts. It's wonderful up here. Oh, I could live in Canada.
This morning I witnessed a tradition, people poured into Tim Hortons by the dozens. Buying their donuts and coffee. Canada must love their donuts. There's a donut shop in every city, on every corner.
Sudbury was the next place we stopped. It took us awhile to find the rink. Dad got directions and just didn't go far enough. We found the arena and you could hear voices from below. Sticks knocked around and the general sound of hockey players wafted to us. We asked the ticket clerks, than made our way below amongst the players looking for the office. Which we found after avoiding several big players and sticks.
"Hi we're from Iowa and..."
"Iowa! What are you doing up here?"
We were greeted by a lady who obviously worked in the office.
"Well, we love hockey and we're collecting hockey stuff. Got anything we can buy?"
After this we were treated with less scorn. We were given directions to a sports shop by several people.
You go left at the four stop lights, but you don't go to K-Mart at the next four stop lights, it's by the public library, but below the library, you go right, but than you jog left, you don't go left, you jog left. In the Four Corners Sports Store we were accosted by many Wolves paraphanalia. Sweaters, jeanshirts, jean jackets, polo shirts, foam wolf hats, hockey cards, last years calendars, etc.
We were soon on the road again and finishing our long haul to Sault Ste. Marie.
In the Soo we found a hotel, as luck would have it, it was right next to the Greyhound barn. And of course training camp was just starting and hockey players were pouring into the hotel.
It was obvious we would be going to a scrimmage game.
Jim and I roller bladed, we took a drive, and later that night we went to the pool. In the hot tub we met some of the hockey players. Dad started talking to them right away and by the time I got in he already was telling them about our websites and they had told him where they were from. One was from Toronto, the talkative one was from Hamilton. It was his third year on the team for the talkative one. The one from Hamilton reminded me of Reggie Berg. He told us about his many injuries to the mouth and teeth playing hockey.
We were soon joined by another player. Who while in talking found out we were from Iowa and exclaimed "Iowa!" They wanted to know how far Iowa was. The only answer they got was from me "too far."
The day ended with a phone call to Grandma and my completely forgetting to write in my journal.
Day Six
August 29th, 1996
The day started with getting rid of all traces of chlorine from the night before. All I could think about was getting to the Soo barn to watch the games. The Hamilton guy was playing at 8 and 9:30.
We discussed what we would do today and I, having hoped to stay an extra day, was disgruntled when we decided to move on from the Soo. I was sick and tired of packing bags early and leaving all the time and going, Going, GOING! Perhaps I was most disappointed because I'd met a hockey player the night before and there were games to go to at the rink next door.
I ardently wanted to stay in Sault Ste. Marie. As Grandma had said the night before, I was in heaven. Imagine, you finally get to heaven and then you're asked to leave?
We walked over to the Greyhound Memorial Arena and sat down on the old benches. Yes it was ice, but not as good smelling as in Parry Sound.
I was able to find the talkative player, but none of the others. His name was Joe Seroski. Seroski was good, it took me awhile to see that, but he was deft and handled the puck well with good skating.
These Canadian players could pass faster, better, and with more dexterity. In turn the game was faster. It was fun to watch them set up plays and execute them beautifully. One-timing it in on their knees and maneuvering around each other without losing the puck.
We watched for about an hour and a half before we left to shop the Greyhound stores. We got some more shirts, and Jim got some pins for his pin collection. In the first shop we met a hockey mom. She was proud of her son, who had gotten drafted by the Greyhounds.
After this we left and went to Burger King then crossed the border. In the States we went to the Lake Superior State Campus. The pro shop was outside of the rink under the stairs. It was small and packed with stuff. Jim's pin collection got bigger and we got another jersey and key chain.
A long drive ensued with a stop at a waterfall and at a beach of Lake Superior. At the lake side we stood barefoot on the shore. I got my jeans soaked then sand got encrusted on them after falling in the sand.
Coming into Marquette, flowers bordered everything that had a space. It was a beautiful site of colors.
We stayed downtown at the Ramada Inn on Washington. Close to some downtown shops and not far from Northern Michigan U.
We went to KFC then Shopko and back to the hotel so Jim could go roller blading. I stayed, wrote in my journal, and waited for the World Cup. Which would be so biased it would be pathetic.
The game was Canada vs. Russia. I was ultimately for Russia.
It sure is nice to be back where everything is familiar. Nothing is in French anymore.
I've many times threatened to come up to NMU and live here while going to school. Now it seems like I could live and write here.
The people in Canada are very friendly. So friendly and courteous. They're all kind of like Benton Frazier from Due South.
Canada leads 3-1 and I wish it wasn't so. We heard from several players, among my favorites were Brett Hull, Mike Richter, and Pat LaFontaine.
I fell asleep after being lulled to the sounds of the hockey game. Canada won.
Day Seven
August 30th, 1996
I woke up hungry and crabby, I hadn't slept well. That was enough to make me grumpy, but perhaps I was still upset about leaving. We wouldn't be staying here either. Discontent has been steadily rising in myself. We would be going to NMU campus and then take-off. I just wanted to sit back and take it easy, instead of rushing.
But as usual we packed up and left. We went to the campus bookstore and Jim got a game worn jersey of a player named McCusker, of which none of us knows anything about. But Dad and Jim would buy the jersey.
We went to the arena to the directions of the store clerk. We were told of the Hall of Fame in the arena. Who would have thought a dog show would be in progress! It was more annoying than anything and a degradation to the name of hockey. We were rushed out of rooms and started at unceremoniously. Because you see they had rented that building and they could do what they wanted! We left in disgust and went to the Superior Dome and the practicing rink of Wildcat players.
The ice smelled good, but looked a little frosty, and the dome was incredible. I could imagine sitting and watching a football game. It was impressive and felt nostalgic.
We ate at Subway in Escanaba and headed towards Green Bay.
In Green Bay Dad wandered and finally pulled into a mall. Why we were in that mall none of us knew, but we all walked in.
While Jim and Dad looked in the phonebook for the Gamblers place Mom and I went shopping. Actually, that wouldn't be quite true, we looked in a store until Dad came back and said "Let's go." We did leave, but not before Mom and I got something. We didn't find the barn and we couldn't find the shop. Dad had gotten the directions, not Mom and I, I might add.
So we left Green Bay.
We drove onto Milwaukee where we were going to spend the night. I read the whole way so I have no idea what the country looked like. We passed through to Racine and found a hotel there. Everything seemed dirty, everyone seemed rude, we were back home in the States and no longer in Canada.
We drove all the way to downtown Racine, where the streets were a confusing mess. It was a site to see all the boats docked at the waterside and flowers and grasses planted in tiny spaces. A young man walked down the street talking to himself, kids ran out into the street, and dark characters stood in dark corners. Yep, we were definitely back in the states.
Day 8 of What Will Probably Be the Last Day of
What Was Supposed to Be a Ten Day Forecast.
August 31st, 1996
We got up, wanting very strongly to leave Racine. Two phone calls from "Oops, wrong number!" in the night can do that to a soul. Besides we were tired, grating on each others nerves, and sick of driving. The night before I had gotten into an argument with my father over staying in Sault Ste. Marie longer.
"You never told me you wanted to stay longer! That would of been the place to stay."
"I told you Dad!"
"No you didn't."
"I figured it wasn't worth it."
"Why?"
I had to be strong and tell him.
"Because once your mind's made up that's all there is to it."
"No..." he said.
So we left Racine and headed back to Chicago for a taste of Cheli's Chili. We stopped at an outlet store, but were an hour too early, so we headed on in.
I was still getting over feelings messiness from the night before. When we got into the hotel last night everybody threw everything all over. Clothes laying out, socks all over the floor, and shoes purposely in the middle of the floor to be tripped on. I couldn't stand it! I wanted everyone to follow my example and keep their stuff put away and neat. Can you believe it! Me! Of all people! Now I know this vacation has been too long! No station was playing the World Cup so last night we watched "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure." Like, how excellent! ENTER: Guitar Lick.
We were in the North side of Chicago and I got ready to yell out "Hunk!" whenever I saw a cute guy. Considering my Dad had been yelling out "Babe!" throughout the entire vacation I figured it was only fair. My only problem now, was that I couldn't seem to find any hunks.
We went blading at a park near the lake and watched squirrels carry nuts up trees. People were out playing sand volleyball, boating, and having picnics.
Cheli's was closed, again. This time due to Labor Day weekend. So we went looking for the United Center. Since no one had any ideas I offered one. I knew it was by an interstate. Unfortunately I suggested the wrong interstate and we got ourselves in a nasty area. Mom was so frightened she told us to turn around NOW wherever. Dad said he'd never gotten us in as bad an area as this. It seemed safe enough to me. I had been in worse. I was calm and level headed. Perhaps I was just young and naive.
So we left without Chili or pictures of the United Center. Not sure how to get out of the city, hungry, and very quiet. My pen has finally run out of ink. Which is too bad, it was a favorite pen.
I'm now going to lay down and sulk, because no one's on my side, the vacation hasn't gone my way, and I didn't get to stay in the Soo! Hmpf, the artist in me is deciding to have an attitude.
We got stuck in heavy traffic because of summer construction. Can't get uptight, so I slowly sway to Primitive Radio gods and B.B. King.
Outside of Chicago and still logically in Chicago we ate at Cracker Barrell. That I could truly say was the best meal of my entire vacation. I had pancake with cherries and whip cream, eggs, bacon, sausage, ham and hash browns. I ate almost the whole meal which is unusual for me because I rarely eat very much.
There were gifts for people back home to be bought also.
We cut a path for home and set out because there was nothing left for us to do. Nothing anyway that achieved to hold our interest.
Now I look back to Sault Ste. Marie with regret. Maybe if I told Dad with a little more strength and conviction we would have stayed. Then we could have gone to Macinac Island as previously planned.
In Iowa we stopped at a factory outlet to do some shopping we might not otherwise be able to do. It was crowded, I was hot, my knees hurt, and I was tired from reading. I got a good deal on a present for a friend. Besides the noisy anklet now on my ankle I didn't get much else worth mentioning.
After stopping at Arby's we finished the rest of the trip home. It is 7:24 and I am enduring a radio station from Waterloo that is playing occasional disco and 80's music.
We were finally home and the garage door was broken. Our neighbor who was taking care of our animals had to get people to help open it. The door is so heavy that four people had to lift it and put boards under it to keep it open for our animals to eat. Do we have good neighbors or what!
After we were home and everything unloaded, I went into the back seat of the van to get the very last of my stuff out. I lay down in the back, my head on pillows, an I wished it wasn't over. Being home meant the end of summer, the end of it all. The start of a new year.
So, how was your summer vacation?
Written by Sarah Bendy.