The Northern Plains- on the Hi-Line

I've just spent the last four days driving and driving all on Highway 2. I've done Highway One. Why not Highway Two? The open plains, soothing and free feeling. A sea of green punctuated by a grain elevator here and there. A two lane abandoned highway in which, again, I made better time than on the interstate.

                                         

                                  
Highway 2 is called the Hi-Line because it is so high up latitudinally not elevation-wise. It skirts the Canadian border. Many places fly both US and Canada flags. The only difference between northern plains towns and southern is the lack of majestic Victorian courthouses. This area, because of the snow, still has outpost vibes. Many small towns were formerly forts such as  Fort Peck and Fort Belknap. They get vicious winters and if you want to feel what the US was like at the turn of the century in remote areas these plains still haven't lost it's connection to that time.

 The northern plains, just as simple, beautiful and remote as the southern plains. The people here can have deep Canadian accents and lots of Indigenous Americans live here too. They live in horrible prefab homes which they treat appropriately horribly.



There is still a disconnect on the Reservation. A street named Indian St. still exists in Wolf Point. Wolf Point is a tiny town on the Burlington Northern Santa Fe line and on an Indian Reservation; rundown, un-gentrified, and half abandoned as was the southern Missouri towns I explored and of course, I fell in love. 

Nothing really great happened in Wolf Point. There is a marker out of town about how small pox killed the whole tribe of Aboisinne, the little girl's tribe. I don't think it was a bunch of little girls. It was a band associated with the Flathead tribe. The wolves massacred some settlers at some point and the wolves were all killed. There is a creek there. It must have been nice for the wolves until settlers moved in.

                               Abandoned barn on the prairie at Wolf Point

I happened on a great neighborhood bar in Wolf Point, it made my day.  Dad's Bar and Grill is third generation run. The grandson, Marcus, was my bartender and chef who made my excellent dinner.

                                                   Mid-Century Modern bar back inside Dad's
                                     

  The burger was grilled and so good. Why don't people grill burgers? They taste so much better. As usual, with a small town local bar, my drinks were bought. I've had this experience in very few bars, but the majority of them were bars on the plains.  I'm like a butterfly that floats in and they buy me drinks so I will stay to be thoroughly examined. Most folks I meet in these bars have never been to California.

From the Plains to the Rustbelt

A cool bar in Bloomington, Indiana and a great market in Detroit.

I cut from the Plains into southern Indiana to see my aunt Ann. She chain smokes at 87. She walks completely upright, is an artist, and is smart as a whip. Her restaurant choices? Not so good.

When she was young she looked like Grace Kelly. She married my Uncle JC, a lifelong Marine. He was gone a lot.

My Aunt Ann with my cousin Johnny

She felt going to Wee Willies would be better than going into downtown Bloomington (a University town) to experience the best in dining out. I ordered a previously frozen potpie and a side of hush puppies which was the mild highlight.

 My mom lived here from 13 years old on. I don't ever remember coming downtown except once.  It is the typical downtown square with a beautiful Victorian courthouse in the center. In this case, made lovingly with local limestone with hand carved features.We went to see Santa downtown when I was seven. I had a warm, wool coat on and we were waiting in the hot basement of a store. Santa beckoned me up to his lap where I promptly threw up. I don't remember if I got my request in or not.

Majestic courthouse in the downtown Bloomington, Indiana square

I went downtown without my aunt later in the evening and chanced in on the The Irish Lion  an 1882 era pub. A proper pint of Guinness and a time travel of ornate tin ceilings, stained glass and a famous bar back with hand carved lion faces made by Brunswick, the pool table company. There are only three other known examples and one is in Paso Robles somewhere. Besides the historical interest is the bar's appearance in the opening credits of Cheers. Many of you may remember this photo if you were a fan of the show. The bar is relatively unchanged. This photo is circa 1910 when this bar back was put in.

                                 1910 era view of the bar used in Cheers

View from bar today looking relatively in the same direction

                                       




Detroit-
is a factory wasteland. The roads from California to south of Detroit are fine. Not the case in Detroit and vicinity. The Interstate is all chewed up. The industrial funk belies the neat tree strewn bucolic neighborhoods and now the new young artists who have taken over the downtown area, much of it abandoned ,are reviving it in it's own tentative hipster way.

Every Saturday-
Eastern Market in downtown Detroit is three large "sheds"; a behemoth. Flowers, produce and my mecca for great popcorn. There is Detroit Grown which has flavors such as dark chocolate, caramel or dill pickle. But what I'm really here for is Michigan red unpopped popcorn. It pops tender,(no chance of taking out my crown work), crispy, and pops reliably. When it pops, it pops white with a red husk. I bought twenty pounds- everything she had- to bring home. Only open on Saturdays- it is mobbed with vendors and customers.

One of the large 'sheds' with the market's mainstay of flowers

I grew up here and I've come to see a very special person in my life, Irene Szchlachtowicz, aka Oma.
I worked for Oma in 1969-71. I was fourteen. It was my first real job. Miller Brothers Creamery is an icon in my hometown of Mount Clemens. It first began as a dairy that delivered milk in 1920's.  No one grows up in my town without having had a "Blue Moon" ice cream cone, served only in the summer, it is a rite of passage.

First Miller Brothers Dairy delivery wagon 1925

There were 6 shops that served ice cream cones, shakes and banana splits along with groceries. Dipping cones was grueling work in the summer; there would be lines out the door. Oma managed 6 Miller Bros. stores and then bought one and still works every day there. She started in 1955.

With Oma

My mother's day gift

Lamar, Missouri,

Not on GPS and no one has gotten the memo. 


Except the Super 8 Motel. They created Lamar Heights to make the hotel GPS-able. it's a very nice one and conveniently across the street from the graveyard where my family is buried. Chance loves to run around there and mark the graves.

Many of the towns in the Plains have Victorian era courthouses with a downtown square and half the businesses empty. They are the most picturesque 'Meet Me in Saint Louis' town squares, except after George Bailey decided to instead- have a life. 

Wyatt Earp's uncle's family all lived in Lamar. They are all buried there. Wyatt's first law job was in Lamar as a constable. He met and married his first wife here, Urilla Sutherland. She died suddenly of typhoid fever in Lamar while pregnant with Wyatt's first child. Her grave is hidden, out of Milford, Mo. Wyatt is weirdly enough, buried in South San Francisco.

President Truman was also born here. My mom grew up in that house. It was owned by the Earp family when my great, great grandparents lived there. It's a museum now and one of my goals was to bring back a candy dish that lived there with my family.  It was my only actual family inheritance from my mom's side. 

Saying goodbye to my only family heirloom

                                

There are no restaurants, except at the gas station, Tractors. It has been said to be the best BBQ south of Kansas City and has a full bar. Their Margaritas are great but not as good as the chipped Bbq brisket dinner. I ate it like a starving orphan. Then pie.

                                    Tractors -best BBQ in town and gas is $2.05 a gallon

There is not one iota of gentrification in this completely 1800's era  semi-abandoned town as are all the towns, seemingly, on the plains. Besides the grand Victorian courthouse,  a thirty's Deco movie theater, the Plaza, is the crown jewel of the square. It, fortunately, was lovingly restored by the nice family that runs it today. My mom would have seen her first movies there. Our Gang, Fantasia. but Shirley Temple was her idol. She would have watched every Shirley Temple movie in that theater when it was brand new.

The other place my mom hung out as a kid was at the roller rink. It's a great bar now named the Gallows. It still has the beautiful oak floors.   The owner, Boyce is a very hip Missourian with a two beaded, braided mustache about one foot long. He lived in California too. The beads bobble when he talks. He loves hanging at his bar,  performs in his own bands there and drives everyone home in his bus so they don't get DUI's. He doesn't drink much. He's the coolest guy in town. Everyone else farms and eats. You can get good pulled pork sandwiches there.

                                  Boyce admiring my inheritance
.

Lost in Paradox found in Oz

Swirling  through the narrow switchbacks and sinuous curves of Utah and Colorado, finally-- frightening, snowy, icy, Rocky Mountains. The clouds seem to come right at you. 

Luckily it was a beautiful day when I crossed the Rockies at Monarch Pass

Then dropping down, down deep into the straight, vacant plains. It doesn't matter where. You look from where you came and there is nothing but the curvature of the earth between you and those mountains. 

The electricity hangs in the quiet air on the plains.Your heart feels as though it could travel easily through the atmosphere. Psychics might do well here, there is some type of negative charge and sparks seemingly in the periphery of one's vision. The only thing that dissipated it was the unending rain.

                                         Clouds gathering for a storm, Oakley Kansas

I took Hwy 6 out of Nevada. It is freeing because it's easy to drive 100 miles an hour for hours across the state. No one and nothing is out there and the roads are excellent because no one uses them. From there I headed to Moab right off the interstate. Moab is too touristy this time of year except for Desert Bistro restaurant. It is overrun in May with people. The best thing I did was catch Hwy 46 just south and drive east on that road. It was pouring rain and I got turned around at Paradox.  It is remote and small and I had to ask for directions at the post office. I almost ran out of gas and slowed down for several cows in the road. A sure sign of real vacating.

                                               Only cows to direct me at Paradox, Utah

                                                                  Naturita, Utah

     Easy to see the motivation for Oz - the dark clouds swirled around the emerald rays of sunlight.                     Oakley, Kansas

Peeling away the coastal layers

First day of my annual May travels-

Once again I have to do the "yes, I'm getting the shower thing together" con job on my caretaker who was dubious about taking the job sans shower. I got all the shower parts and pretended to try to put it in but just left them in the bathroom on display. He said he would put the shower in but that will be the big reveal whether or not he too will succumb to tub life or will a shower be put in my 1907 home for the first time in 110 years.

First stop- Auburn. Had lunch with my friend Velvet who is from Monterey but just moved here. Her new house is great and right near downtown. We walked to Cherry records. The owner has been selling records for about 30 years and I tried to get him to name his favorite record, but he wouldn't commit. Found a John Mayall record for 9.95. My first vintage find, but this find is for me and not my antiques shop. Velvet gave me a jar of olives she cured from her tree, I gave her some Happy Girl Kitchen jam. Thought she'd like something from her old home.

                                              Not just any record store carries the Cramps

                                  Velvet in Cherry Records

It was hot there and I started peeling off my coastal clothes.

 Drove to Dyer, Nevada where my brother lives. Made it by 7:30. No traffic and you have to remember to NOT use your blinker, because no one is around.

As soon as I turned up the dirt road Chance perked up and began moaning like he does when we approach the beach. He lives free out here in the desert. No picking up dog poop and he runs wild with my brother's dogs. The dog food bin is at his disposal the pond is all his. He stays outdoors all day and collapses inside at night.

My brother's place is an oasis. It sits like Oz up at the base of the White Mountains just east of the Sierras. He has trees and roses and vegetable gardens. He's the one with the big round wooden tub. I'm the only one that uses it. His home is rustic and beautifully built. His stairway is made from one log. His sinks are all wood. It's his man cave. his wife lives next door in a regular house. I love hanging out with him at the boys club. He has projects laid out everywhere. There's a ham radio with all the police communications and locals talking back and forth. This is the least populated county in the lower 48. The nearest grocery store is 75 miles away in Tonapah. It's a massive beauty with the snowcapped mountains and the sloping valley. It never feels lonely here; the locals socialize a great deal. Tomorrow we're going to a garage sale. My brother is excited about it.

A wild horse sauntered across the highway on my drive.

I'm thinking about all the things I forgot and what I forgot to do at the house.

Getting ready to take off on a long trek.

I go places others wouldn't, Southern Missouri, Detroit.

 Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin- I'm super excited about this year.

 Being from the Monterey Peninsula- see- I don't even have to say the state- you all know what I'm taking about, anyway, being from there, I like to be all by myself when I vacate. I use the term literally. My goal is to be the only California plate in town.

First stop, Auburn, California an historic mining town. Going to have lunch with a friend and stop into Cherry records- they have been there since there were only records. The owner knows it all.