SOMEone should write about Door County!
Wow, there's been a request that I write about my weekend in Door County. Since it's almost "next" weekend already, and since Abby so graciously decided to wake me at 5:15 this morning with, "Hack, hack, hack, hooooooaaark!", I figure now's as good a time as any to do so.
We went as volunteer workers, I guess, to the fourth annual Door County Sea Kayak Symposium, in Rowleys Bay, WI. Jim works for Rutabaga, a great paddle shop, who puts on this event, and it's really a blast.
Wednesday evening we gathered C-Vo and her boat, and another boat from Baga, to schlep up to the DC. At Baga we had a great time talking with Kimbler about everything and nothing while Jim futzed with the bow and stern lines, making them as perfect as possible. Not too long, not too short, as little visual distraction as possible. Then we agreed to meet her at 8:30 Thursday morning.
We were on perfect time on Thursday morning, and hit the road in great spirits. We had our pop-up in tow, and two boats on top of the truck. Truly a recreational assault vehicle. Somewhere in either Appleton or Green Bay, we stopped at our first Tumbleweed restauraunt.
Okay, just slingshot me into a countrified Texan roadhouse. The country music was off the hook in there, uncontrollable and un-ignorable. I tried to imagine working there and listening to that quantity of country, but my mind isn't that imaginative. I really shouldn't hate country, and don't really "hate" it, but it can wear on you when it's all twang, all the time. I did hear, for the first time, some song with the lyrics, "I like my women a little on the trashy side," which turns out to be called "Trashy Women" by the Confederate Railroad. How apropos. We giggled a lot through our meal, which was tasty and not too expensive to boot. They offer 2 for 1 burgers (mine had a peppercorn sauce to beat the band, great on their crispy fries), and $2.99 margaritas (Jim and I split one, boozers). Oh, and then there was the salsa and chips. The "mild" salsa I described as "like ketchup with chunks." I still think that's funny, maybe I'm just odd (oh yeah).
C-Vo and I fell into food comas afterward and slept to about Sturgeon Bay, or no, maybe it was further north, not Sister bay?
But, C-Vo had the hook-up with the "quiet" versus the "tourist" road and we got to Rowleys Bay far quicker than we did last year.
The rain came just maybe an hour after we arrived, and it poured nicely for maybe 15 minutes. There was a double rainbow over the bay there at the Wagon Wheel, a good sign. Well, maybe only a sign for more rain and wind and cold than any of us had bargained for, but hey, it's still Door County, cold, crappy weather or not. Thank God I brought some Icebreaker pieces with me, I'da froze otherwise with my little sleeveless shirts, "oh I'm going to get some sun"--NOT. We got our pop-up set up in record time, and C-Vo's tent set up too, all before I had to meet Megan and find out what I would be doing for the weekend.
I was assigned to Stuga (which means little house), where registration stuff was happening, and before I knew it I was writing up sales for gear the Bagas had brought up. Nose plugs, farmer john suits, hydroskins, hats and Luna bars. No scanning, all writing. And I had my very first opportunity to use one of those ancient manual credit card machines! With the carbon, and the thunk-thunk? What a relic. I confess to getting bored, once the weather got nice, and I think I really only spent most of Friday actually IN Stuga, being helpful.
More often, I was with Jim, who'd hand me a camera and say, "Here, go take pictures." Twist my arm, it's getting fun, and I got to the point where if I didn't have the brick hanging around my neck, I'd miss it. But it also gets boring taking pictures of people in kayaks, near their kayaks, upside down in their kayaks--there's only so many, really. And there was one day, where it was so windy, I remember standing on this little pier, trying desperately to zoom in on some folks way out in the water--and my face was streaming with tears from the wind, like it was January in the MATC parking lot. Hello, it's July, why this wind? The weather seemed to change more than it ever did in Florida, quite the little ocean climate there in DC.
Jim and I also got to drive people (and also noisy children) to and from their various destinations--my favorite Garrett Bay, and Europe Lake, also Sister Bay. The minivans had names like Sargeant Wintergreen and Gray Goose (not gray, but blue), I never found out how they got their names. The rental company had screwed up and didn't have the 15-person vans we had last year, so we got the minivans with the cool seat storage in the floor and the strange side doors that only wanted to work via the remote.
There was free beer and good food every night, I availed myself of both. Socializing when it wasn't too damned cold (Saturday was best for that). And at 9:30 each night, Jim put on a "slideshow" of all the day's pictures, and the day(s) before, for those who hadn't seen them. We hope to make that earlier in future, people are pooped by 9:30, including us.
We made friends with Kelly Blades' wife and adorable children. Their young boy is now, by his declaration, my boyfriend. What a cutie. He's maybe three? I also got to sit with their daughter for a while, while Kelly ran off to do something. We talked about pictures in the Passport to Paddling guide, and I got a hug afterwards. Eee!
I was sad to not have gotten out on the water, or to have dived in like I said I was gonna. Too dang cold on both counts.
Sunday was absolutely beautiful and none of us wanted to leave, but we had to. Before we left, we watched Kelly and Danny et al do Stupid Things With Their Boats--hanging off the back, rolling while another's on the back deck, standing in the cockpit and jumping off. Oh, and the infamous Kelly's Inflation of the Dry Suit, and watching Dan(?) try to paddle Kelly as if he were a boat. Hysterical. I'll find a photo for that one, it's a visual thing.
Ooh, and on our way home, we stopped at a Friend-of-a-Friend's house, to look at and quickly ride his BMW GS. Hot bike, I squealed profusely. I rode passenger in shorts and sandals, what an eejit! But it was great. Don't think we'll purchase that bike, not just now, but it sure is a sweet little monster. It'd be nice to narrow the fleet down by one--sell off two to acquire one that does the things two bikes do.
Best part about the weekend--I said I was gonna practice--HA! I got in a grand total of two hours (SHUFB more like 8) over the course of the weekend. But, Monday, I went in to class and passed me a 110. One down, one to go. I'm psyched.
Rehearsals start tonight for the best performance of my year--Isthmus Vocal Ensemble! August 3! If you can't make it, I get it, don't kill yourself. But it's gonna be awesome all the same!
We went as volunteer workers, I guess, to the fourth annual Door County Sea Kayak Symposium, in Rowleys Bay, WI. Jim works for Rutabaga, a great paddle shop, who puts on this event, and it's really a blast.
Wednesday evening we gathered C-Vo and her boat, and another boat from Baga, to schlep up to the DC. At Baga we had a great time talking with Kimbler about everything and nothing while Jim futzed with the bow and stern lines, making them as perfect as possible. Not too long, not too short, as little visual distraction as possible. Then we agreed to meet her at 8:30 Thursday morning.
We were on perfect time on Thursday morning, and hit the road in great spirits. We had our pop-up in tow, and two boats on top of the truck. Truly a recreational assault vehicle. Somewhere in either Appleton or Green Bay, we stopped at our first Tumbleweed restauraunt.
Okay, just slingshot me into a countrified Texan roadhouse. The country music was off the hook in there, uncontrollable and un-ignorable. I tried to imagine working there and listening to that quantity of country, but my mind isn't that imaginative. I really shouldn't hate country, and don't really "hate" it, but it can wear on you when it's all twang, all the time. I did hear, for the first time, some song with the lyrics, "I like my women a little on the trashy side," which turns out to be called "Trashy Women" by the Confederate Railroad. How apropos. We giggled a lot through our meal, which was tasty and not too expensive to boot. They offer 2 for 1 burgers (mine had a peppercorn sauce to beat the band, great on their crispy fries), and $2.99 margaritas (Jim and I split one, boozers). Oh, and then there was the salsa and chips. The "mild" salsa I described as "like ketchup with chunks." I still think that's funny, maybe I'm just odd (oh yeah).
C-Vo and I fell into food comas afterward and slept to about Sturgeon Bay, or no, maybe it was further north, not Sister bay?
But, C-Vo had the hook-up with the "quiet" versus the "tourist" road and we got to Rowleys Bay far quicker than we did last year.
The rain came just maybe an hour after we arrived, and it poured nicely for maybe 15 minutes. There was a double rainbow over the bay there at the Wagon Wheel, a good sign. Well, maybe only a sign for more rain and wind and cold than any of us had bargained for, but hey, it's still Door County, cold, crappy weather or not. Thank God I brought some Icebreaker pieces with me, I'da froze otherwise with my little sleeveless shirts, "oh I'm going to get some sun"--NOT. We got our pop-up set up in record time, and C-Vo's tent set up too, all before I had to meet Megan and find out what I would be doing for the weekend.
I was assigned to Stuga (which means little house), where registration stuff was happening, and before I knew it I was writing up sales for gear the Bagas had brought up. Nose plugs, farmer john suits, hydroskins, hats and Luna bars. No scanning, all writing. And I had my very first opportunity to use one of those ancient manual credit card machines! With the carbon, and the thunk-thunk? What a relic. I confess to getting bored, once the weather got nice, and I think I really only spent most of Friday actually IN Stuga, being helpful.
More often, I was with Jim, who'd hand me a camera and say, "Here, go take pictures." Twist my arm, it's getting fun, and I got to the point where if I didn't have the brick hanging around my neck, I'd miss it. But it also gets boring taking pictures of people in kayaks, near their kayaks, upside down in their kayaks--there's only so many, really. And there was one day, where it was so windy, I remember standing on this little pier, trying desperately to zoom in on some folks way out in the water--and my face was streaming with tears from the wind, like it was January in the MATC parking lot. Hello, it's July, why this wind? The weather seemed to change more than it ever did in Florida, quite the little ocean climate there in DC.
Jim and I also got to drive people (and also noisy children) to and from their various destinations--my favorite Garrett Bay, and Europe Lake, also Sister Bay. The minivans had names like Sargeant Wintergreen and Gray Goose (not gray, but blue), I never found out how they got their names. The rental company had screwed up and didn't have the 15-person vans we had last year, so we got the minivans with the cool seat storage in the floor and the strange side doors that only wanted to work via the remote.
There was free beer and good food every night, I availed myself of both. Socializing when it wasn't too damned cold (Saturday was best for that). And at 9:30 each night, Jim put on a "slideshow" of all the day's pictures, and the day(s) before, for those who hadn't seen them. We hope to make that earlier in future, people are pooped by 9:30, including us.
We made friends with Kelly Blades' wife and adorable children. Their young boy is now, by his declaration, my boyfriend. What a cutie. He's maybe three? I also got to sit with their daughter for a while, while Kelly ran off to do something. We talked about pictures in the Passport to Paddling guide, and I got a hug afterwards. Eee!
I was sad to not have gotten out on the water, or to have dived in like I said I was gonna. Too dang cold on both counts.
Sunday was absolutely beautiful and none of us wanted to leave, but we had to. Before we left, we watched Kelly and Danny et al do Stupid Things With Their Boats--hanging off the back, rolling while another's on the back deck, standing in the cockpit and jumping off. Oh, and the infamous Kelly's Inflation of the Dry Suit, and watching Dan(?) try to paddle Kelly as if he were a boat. Hysterical. I'll find a photo for that one, it's a visual thing.
Ooh, and on our way home, we stopped at a Friend-of-a-Friend's house, to look at and quickly ride his BMW GS. Hot bike, I squealed profusely. I rode passenger in shorts and sandals, what an eejit! But it was great. Don't think we'll purchase that bike, not just now, but it sure is a sweet little monster. It'd be nice to narrow the fleet down by one--sell off two to acquire one that does the things two bikes do.
Best part about the weekend--I said I was gonna practice--HA! I got in a grand total of two hours (SHUFB more like 8) over the course of the weekend. But, Monday, I went in to class and passed me a 110. One down, one to go. I'm psyched.
Rehearsals start tonight for the best performance of my year--Isthmus Vocal Ensemble! August 3! If you can't make it, I get it, don't kill yourself. But it's gonna be awesome all the same!
Comments
Oh, and what do you keep practicing for--what's a 110?
Call me ign'rnt, but I enjoy reading your blog, and I just wanted to be "in" on the jargon you're using.
Take care!
my husband works for Rutabaga
Practicing, because I'm studying to be a court reporter. Machine stenography. So 110 means 110 words per minute. Goal speed to get out of school is between 180 and 225, depending on the material.
Thrilled you're reading! I'll keep posting.