Hello from Cranberry Country

The harvest finished up today, so I finally got off the farm and into town (Tomah), and found a coffee shop that has wireless. It's Sunday and they are closed on Sundays, mind you, but I don't think they'll mind me borrowing some bandwidth. I'll buy a coffee on my way out of town.

I've had a crazy couple weeks on the farm. The cranberry processing plant on the farm pushed through many millions of pounds of berries from the Bosshard Bogs and a handful of other growers in the Wisconsin Cranberry Cooperative. And the work crew has pushed through many millions of gallons of beer at the bar.

This harvest lasts only about a month out of the year, so only a few of the workers are permanent. Everyone else was a transient like me or had some other background of the colorful variety. And that's what life's all about, right? Color.

My job has been in the plant operating the hopper, weighing the crates (around 1300 pounds each), and sending them off to be used for juice or to be dried (Craisins) I'm sore and tired and now have some cash in the bank for the next leg of my journey.

The family is meeting in Baton Rouge, Louisiana where my bro Scott lives for Thanksgiving. We haven't gathered since Matty's graduation from LSU and it'll be great to spend some time with my peoples. The places we've all been this year are mind-boggling and I'm sure it will be a story-fest of epic proportions. And you know I want to get some of that deep fried turkey and crawfish stuffing.

I'm thinking about taking old Highway 61 down south to Baton Rouge. Highway 61 starts in St. Paul and goes through La Crosse, St. Louis, Memphis, and all the way down to New Orleans. It's known as the Blues Highway as it cuts through the Mississippi Delta, the home of the blues. One stop I'm looking forward to is Greenville, MS, where I lived from the ages 8 to 11. The cotton fields, antebellum homes and Indian mounds made a deep impression on me. I haven't been there since I left 20 years ago and the place has taken on a strange, mythological, ghostly hue in my mind. So this should be a great leg. I'll keep you posted.

And pictures will be on the way.

Hey you guys. I'm in

Hey you guys. I'm in Wisconsin helping harvest cranberries near Tomah. Interesting, hardworking cats out here. More to come.

Kenai Peninsula - Homer to Seward

Step into my time machine and travel back with me, won't you? I have to relay the rest of my experience in the Kenai Peninsula. It was only about three weeks ago.

Up in the Chena River Valley, this old guy told me about a lake on the Kenai down an almost unmarked road. He said it was called Tustumena and a great secret place to camp. The road was desolate and very bumpy, but somehow I found it. Or at least the river that fed into it. Turns out you can't drive to Tustumena. I had almost given up. Here's the one old marker the old-timer told me about, a big yellow "T":


This is Johnson Lake nearby:


I gathered that it's kind of a local's secret even though it's a public area. This might be an indication of how the locals feel about the tourist element... a shotgun slug through the info sign:


The locals putting a boat in the water near Tustumena:


I spotted this volcano on the road from Homer. It probably is Mt. Redoubt across the Cook Inlet:




This was my first view of Seward on Resurrection Bay:

Hello from La Crosse, Wisconsin

Christina and I survived Canadian Thanksgiving in Winnipeg, which who knew, involved beer-bongs, limos and gay bars. Then we drove through the border into Minnesota, checked out Lake Superior at Duluth and Two Harbors, then on to Wisconsin.

We pulled in last night to "The Hut", which is my uncle's cabin on the Mississippi. It's a beautiful fall day here on the "West Coast" of Wisconsin. Windy, crisp and sunny. Looking forward to a week of relaxing, seeing family and sleeping in a real bed.

Here's a random pic of me on the Harding Icefield near Seward, Alaska:


Until next time...

The Land of the Lost is in Montana

There are bears in Montana. Here’s a pic I got of one coming over a hill:


I always loved going to the zoo when I was a kid. Well one zoo. The San Diego Zoo. I don’t think I’ve ever been to any other zoo. I’m afraid it will just be a sad, far cry from the San Diego Zoo. My point is, apparently in places outside Southern California, the animals run free. They don’t need a zoo.

Here’s a plesteosaurus about to molest a big horned sheep:


Here’s an eagle caught in a giant web:


Black dinosaurus:


Giant grasshoppers (thank goodness for that fence):


Sometimes when you’re driving for a long time you start to daydream and maybe hallucinate a giant spider coming over the hills, or Zena the Warrior Princess riding a bull buffalo nude across the prarie. Is anybody reading this?

I don't know what's going on here:


I'm in Winnipeg at a Best Western! And there's a water slide into the pool, no kiddin'!