Take Me Out to the Island
It’s about 7:30 on Tuesday, June 11. Today, Jarret and I woke up on Madeline Island, Wisconsin, and we’re going to fall asleep at the Bison Plains Lodge in Moorhead, Minnesota/Fargo, North Dakota. The drive over here was roughly six and a half hours. We listened to Joni Mitchell’s first studio album, Frank Zappa’s eighteenth studio album, Steely Dan’s something-ith (and best) album, Gaucho, and also half of a Rick James album. Why, you may ask…
The drive over also consisted of stopping to buy Ojibwe-caught and smoked trout as well as a visit to “the most campy, basic antique store” Jarret has ever seen. We did keep the dear old lady in there company for a bit though; we took it that the christian radio station and 20-foot-tall Paul Bunyan statue next door weren’t doing the trick.
If you’re not keyed into the larger picture here, here you go; I’m currently at the beginning of a two-month road trip where I’ll be visiting dear friends and landscapes around the western part of the country — and I’ll be doing research too.
Writing is a ridiculous process. Even though I teach it at the college level, sometimes I don’t even know how to get myself in a place where I can write like I want to be able to — especially hard, academic topics that take pretty much all of my brain power. So, during this trip, I plan on mixing up all of the travel, the visits, the food, and the hikes with writing (and researching). Traveling, seeing new places, being in nature (this term is a can of worms but we’ll use it), and seeing people (whether they be friends in far away places or complete strangers) gives me energy and purpose: ideally, enough to complete this damn thesis and be done with my masters altogether.
I want to tell you about one such recharge that I was able to have yesterday. Like today, we also woke up on Madeline Island. We engaged in “bog time” for nearly two hours, taking in priceless views, identifying vegetation…eating vegetation; it was amazing. Jarret and I conversed: “why would we even care about anything else right now?”
After bog time, we drove back to camp, ate some interesting hummus and cheese sandwiches, and then we departed towards town — cribbage board in hand. On the way, we encountered the Madeline Island Museum. Unexpectedly, we ended up there for nearly an hour and a half, mostly talking to one self-described “old Indian”: a former Tribal Chairman of the Bad River Ojibwe named Mike. Mike shared so much with us: Ojibwe oral history, wisdom on contemporary American Indian issues, and, above all else, his time. We were very grateful.
Of course, after this incredibly meaningful and educational experience, we then went to the souvenir shop so that I could get a magnet for my fridge. Magnets are cheap, easy, they last a long time, they take up NO space, and they mark the place; overall, they are WAY less of a commitment than buying a t-shirt. This is why I don’t buy souvenir t-shirts or clothing or anything other than magnets anymore. *Thank you for reading this.*
ANYWAY…we then walked across the street over to the one and only coffee shop on the island. Shockingly, the coffee was good, and the chocolate chip cookie: DAMN good. The shop is run by two women– who are maybe mother and daughter? They were so kind to us, and we really felt at home in their weird coffee shop/souvenir shop/craft shop/convenience store that totally did not always function as a coffee shop. They treated everyone who walked in like they had been friends forever; we would soon learn that this was the nature of this community.
After charging up at the coffee shop, we headed up the road, 100 yards, to the grocery store. I brought my ridiculous Tony’s Chocolate bar up to the counter and asked the checkout employee if she was from the area. She said she was actually from Pittsburgh. “Shut up. I’m from Pittsburgh too…I went to Mt. Lebanon.”
“Yeah I’m from the East End…actual Pittsburgh.”
Friends. Immediately.
I came back into the shop 20 minutes later to make sure we figured out who we both knew: no one. Shucks. Well, we’re friends now anyway, so she asked us to play in the community softball game later that night. “Hell yeah I’m in.”
I stormed outside to tell the friends: “Y’all, we’re playing softball.”
The goddamn Madeline Island community softball game: Mondays at 6; we had to go. What an unbelievable opportunity to plug into the entire community vibe in just one night. At the time of hearing about the event, it was about 5, so, naturally, we prepared by heading to the local bar.
Two High Lifes later, we walked over, introduced ourselves to the cast of characters: KT, who drives the island ferry; Rick, who had a face that screams “back the blue”; Alex, who is the island EMT and a freelance software-guy/web-designer; Ivan, who did not speak a word until spoken to; Roma: a contractor/home-builder from southern France; of course, Kyra from Pittsburgh and the grocery store–and more. Essentially, it was like the baseball episode of Star Trek.
It was so. fucking. fun. Jarret and I both made highlight grabs in the field, I somehow went one for four with three strikeouts (sorry dad), and we each drank another beer; thanks, KT.
Softball eventually stopped, everyone went home, Kyra drove us back to our campsite. Thank you, Kyra. Thank you, Mike. Thank you, Alex. Thank you, Ivan. Thank you, Roma. Thank you, KT. Thank you, Madeline Island. You and your people are so special to us, and we hope to see you soon.
At the time of publishing this, there’s still a lot more road-trip to be had. I’ll hope to check in again soon with more special stories of connection, recharge, and spontaneity. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading.
