We drove from the Chi, through Indiana, up to Lansing, and crossed into Canada at the Blue Water Bridge. All the way through Indiana, Michigan, and southern Ontario the foliage was tremendous. Because of the up and down temperatures, there were mixtures of green, gold, maroon, and brown. As we headed north the colo(u)rs got more vivid. After an Ontarian wind storm on Tuesday, the colo(u)rs in Ontario were muted and spread across the ground. However, as we headed south, the colors got better again. What a great colo(u)r trip, and we didn't even have to travel to Cheeseheadland for it.
First of all, if you think "Fergie" above is Sarah Ferguson, get off the page right now. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Just leave. . . OK, so you're still here. Fergie in this case is Fergie Jenkins. He pitched for a number of teams, but his best years were with the Cubs. He was also from Ontario. Thus, when L and I passed a sign for the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame, there was really no debate that we would be going there. It is in a town called St Mary's. The town is sort of like Cooperstown in that you drive . . . and drive . . . and drive . . . and start thinking you are lost, and then you are there. It is unlike Cooperstown in that it is not clear where the hell the Hall of Fame is when you get there. In this case, it is at the end of a dead end street in a residential area. It was also closed. Naturally.
So, we decided to look around St Mary's, Ontario (Canada) and see what was what. As we turned on to Queen (???) Street, L noticed that the Hall of Fame administrative offices were there. I parked and walked in. L stayed in the car. I think she was scared that I'd make an ass of myself. In any case, the guy working in the office was a big baseball fan. We talked some ball (another one of these damned people who asks me what happened to America's Team), and I bought a tres swank hat, and two refrigerator magnets. It was a glorious moment.
As I said, going into Canada we crossed at Port Huron over the Blue Water Bridge. Going into Canada is usually pretty easy, with few delays. Just make sure you don't have any guns. The Canadians don't like guns.
Coming back into the United States at Port Erie (Buffalo), Windsor (Detroit), or Sarnia (Port Huron) can be grueling. It takes about a million years, and there is all kinds of pollution spewing all around you. This is true even on the high bridges at Detroit, Port Huron, or Buffalo. It is AWFUL! Anyway, L and I heard about a cool alternative from our good friend M.
Instead of driving to Sarnia and crossing the bridge, we cut south of Sarnia about 30 kilometres (silly Canadians, it is about 18 miles or so) to a small town called Sombra. It was getting late, and we were in this tiny, dark village by the water. As we drove parallel to the river, we looked for signs. Then we saw, "Ferry to US." This was it! We turned into what was sort of a dead end-looking area. As I slowed down to get the lay of the land, a car came roaring up behind us, passed us, and zipped around a corner. I decided to follow him, since there was nowhere BUT the ferry for him to go. I turned the corner, and was immediately on the ferry. They closed up behind us, and we were on our way to the United States. C$5 (silly Canadians, about $3.50) and we were bypassing all the suckers on the bridges! HA! HA! Even better, the trip is only 5 minutes, and there were only five cars on the ferry.
When we got to the United States side, we were the last car off the boat. The Customs officer gave us a real hard stare and asked us if we had anything to declare. We said no, and we were home. Fantastic.
THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT (OR VICE VERSA)
We drove last night all the way down US 69 (he, he, he) to Auburn, Indiana. As an aside, since 69 goes from Port Huron to Indianapolis it has entered the pantheon of expressways that I have driven end to end. US 57 from Chicago to Louisiana is the other. Anyway, we got to Auburn, Indiana and decided to stop for the night. It was like 12:30 and we decided that sleep was in the cards. We stopped and checked into a road side chain hotel. We went to our room, and I immediately noted that some moron had turned the clock radio back an hour. I turned the TV on (as I am wont to do) and noticed that it was only 11:30 there too. In fact, all of the clocks we saw showed it being an hour earlier than eastern time. Auburn is just north of Fort Wayne. It is east if Indianapolis for God's sake. We still have not figured out why their timer is an hour off. Hence our assumption that Auburn is the land that time forgot (or vice versa).
I am interested in any and all explanations of this odd phenomenon.
Fred Berry died this week. He played Rerun on What's Happening? No more reunion shows for them.