Tag Archives: Aglca

North Hero, St. Albans and Mallet’s Bay ~~~~~~~~

The past two weeks have been a mixture of time on Irene and time on land. We have seen a lot of folks and felt a lot of feels. Monday, we were back on Irene and preparing for the next two weeks at the Burlington Harbor Marina. As often as I thought to, I snapped a picture along the way and will leave quite a few here. A peculiar thing about this post. I sat down multiple times to write a draft for this leg of our time on Lake Champlain. On at least five occasions, it has deleted all updates to my first version. It is as if a force of nature was hitting delete and telling me to return to my original message. Here’s the thing- while what I originally drafted makes sense to me, I’m slightly concerned it may be less in align with most readers. Perhaps the universe and my personal guidance is suggesting that it is ok, even if it may seem a bit provocative or out there. So dear reader, ya’ll get what you get when I hit save at the end of this writing session. Writer’s roulette.

Since being back, I have been talking with a few of my friends in Vermont who read the Betheship blog and our conversations circled around to the interconnected ideas of upliftment, frequency, and density whichI have used in my writing as metaphors to describe living life on the water. Spoiler alert: These concepts are not original to me. I borrowed them from Science and Spirit to help describe the time and places I find myself in; between the water, the land, and the sky.

Unless you’re an extraterrestrial, you are navigating the same elements on the same planet on the same timeline(s) as I am. So, it makes perfect sense that aspects of my posts have resonated with some of you. (Though I am also 100% sure that my words are vibing with our extraterrestrial champions too.) If any of what you just read is causing you to roll your eyes or wonder WTF? I encourage you to put your screen down and stop reading this immediately, because science class is resuming in 3, 2, 1~

I have been considering the root of the theories I’ve been connecting my life with. Particularly regarding energy, and how it is transmuted through movement; and the vibration of water and the frequency it holds. Water has always resonated with me. Some of my most favorite childhood memories include going to the beaches on little lakes and ponds in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom, making pot holes in the Passumpsic River, swimming in my friend’s pools, skipping stones, hiking up streams and standing under waterfalls. Guess what? Because I still hold that frequency, I share it with water, I continue to love going to the beach, making pot holes in rivers, swimming in pools, stream hiking, waterfalls, and living on water. You cannot make this up. In fact, I took the lessons from 9th grade Earth Science and 11th grade Physics and married them with what “moves” me. That’s where spirit enters. So here I am. Living a life on the water surrounded by the natural world, learning new things, meeting interesting people, making things, being outside a lot. Same me. Same life. Better vibes. Higher frequency. Not perfect, but definitely turning the dial up towards 11 (with apologies to Spinal Tap.) That is UPliftment.

More from the past two weeks in pictures before we get back to class.

The theory of Density is simply how tightly things are packed together (d=M/V). The mind body molecules can also be denser or lighter because they’re “things” too. Want to be lighter? Breath deeply and exhale well. Eat lighter, less dense food, like fresh fruit. Drink water. Spirit is the ultimate light being. The eternal light for our eternal lives. Find the things that bring you joy and align your life with them. Let the heaviness go. This is physics, not morality. This is quantifiable. Burdens bring density. Alleviate your burdens. The further we bring things down and more tightly pack them together, we increase the density. We can literally release the denser molecules that clog up our consciousness. Find your denser thoughts and limiting beliefs and release them through intent, movement, mediation, prayer, your mind; just acknowledge them, thank them for serving their purpose, and let matter go. End of class dear reader.

Just because.

Back on the lake we call home, the world seems fairly unchanged on the surface. It remains incredibly beautiful, people still run on the bike path, the ferry leaves the port on time, sailboats grace the waterfront, friends and family members stop by to say ”hello”. This place will always have our hearts and we carry it with us wherever we go. We are a new version of the old us. New old us are more peaceful, a little bit quieter and we have learned a few new moves. We have increased our knowingness and experienced freedom that one could only be imagined once the physical attachments were severed and our ”inner laboratories” significantly aired out. We got new dreams and we are following them. We wish the same for you too. As the saying goes, ”Peace, love and sandy feet”.

Tiny water lilies. Pleasure and peace xoxo.


We’re back.

Things we are remembering about Florida:

  • Salt water means salt on the boat
  • Salt on the boat means scrubbing her down after each travel day
  • EST (Most of the Panhandle is CST, but it changes around St. Joe’s River)
  • Fresh Florida oysters
  • Palm Trees
  • Dolphins
  • Big Water
  • Tides
  • Confused seas
  • Crab pots
  • It’s BIG!
Two Georges Marina, Shalimar, Florida

We left Mobile last Sunday- Crossed the Bay into the Gulf ICW. Mobile Bay is a tiny version of the Gulf of Mexico. We expected a pretty easy crossing however; the weather forecast and the weather didn’t agree. Instead, we had 4+ foot waves when we left the Dog River and turned into the Bay. Theres no turning back. The silver lining was that everything subsided gradually and we just eased into a beautiful afternoon and evening. A day with dolphins, eagles, king fishers, pelicans, herons, and a spectacularly beautiful anchorage at Ingram Bayou in Elberta, Alabama.

Welcome to Ingram Bayou.
Sunrise as stunning as sunset.

The rivers into Florida are big and Florida bays are big too. But, the inlets remind you that theres a small ocean off your starboard side and that you are a speck of life out there.

Irene. Destin, Florida. Photo credit to Tom on Long Recess.

Nights two and three were at Two Georges Marina in Shalimar. night four, was an anchorage a couple miles east of Panama City. We had to find a place we could tuck into and out of a strong northeast wind and we did. Anchored at Parker Bayou, a few miles past the center of Panama City. It felt great to drop anchor after and 8.5 hour day. Thanks to the dolphins for entertaining us throughout the day.

Parker Bayou
Florida Panhandle landscape.

We pulled out at sunrise to head to Apalachacola, FL. 60+ miles east into the wind against foul current. S-L-O-W. about halfway time changes from Central to Eastern. Not sure we gained or lost anything.

Godspeed to this guy!
Gulf Intracoastal, somewhere between Destin and Apalachacola.

The Gulf Intracoastal runs all the way from Texas to Carrabelle, Florida. Apalachicola is the last second to last stop along the way. It’s a cool little town with a Main Street, a narrow creek with narrow docks. It gets very shallow from here out and you have to be very cognizant of the tides. (Thank goodness for GPS!)

Sunrise, Apalachicola River. The marshes remind me of the Sweetgrass in Georgia. I hope it’s Sweetgrass.

We crossed the big Apalachicola Bay on Thanksgiving morning, to the last stop of the Gulf Intracoastal and our last stop (literally where the GIW ends) before crossing the Gulf of Mexico, Carrabelle, Florida. We are watching a variety of weather sites to determine when the best and safest window is for us to cross. The Gulf thinks it’s an ocean and believe me, it can get very rough out there. We are staying The Carrabelle Moorings Marina and each afternoon there is a Captain’s meeting to discuss departures and to “team” up. There’s no cell service out there so boats use a specific VHF channel to communicate with one another while crossing. Currently, it looks like Sunday is our best weather window. If that holds, we will anchor out at Dog Island, next to the inlet, and get a dawn start for the 80 miles from here to Steinhatchee.

If you look closely you can see the opening, the inlet, we will take to enter the Gulf of Mexico~~~

Super grateful to be right here, right now. I’m good waiting until Sunday to leave. Traveling from sunup to sundown is exhausting. It is beautiful and exciting (sometimes) as well, but it takes a lot of stamina and focus to navigate and do all the things that need to be done. David says, “Not many people could do this trip”. I believe it because it’s not really “a trip” in the traditional sense. It’s more like a mission where you have to cross a lot of boundaries, learn things you never thought you needed to know, see things you never imagined, face your fears (which you made yourself), raise your frequency, recognize you are a spirit keeping a body alive, and there are extended periods of absolute quiet. It reminds me of a metaphor where water and waves are symbolic of change. Amending my way, but it goes something like this: Imagine that each day is like a tidal wave and you get to encounter all that the wave brings to your shore, and the wave recedes and it takes away things you thought that you needed but never needed, and it keeps crashing like this, day in and day out; it changes what you see. And everything is impartial, sun shines where it shines, waves hit where they hit and reshape the shoreline, and things get swept away. We are in change with all that we witness. Another moment, another miracle. Life is the best teacher you’ll ever have.

This morning’s view from Irene on the dock in Carrabelle.

That’s it for now from Betheship– Alive and well in a buoyant world!

It’s officially time to listen to Christmas music xoxo

Greetings From Mississippi

Along the Tennessee River.

This past Saturday we traveled from Clifton, Tennessee- to Iuka, Mississippi. Iuka is on the border where Mississippi meets Tennessee and Alabama. It was a long and rainy travel day with the Tennessee River current against us the entire way. After about seven hours underway, we finally reached the Pickwick Lock and Dam. The lock raises boats up 55 feet from the river into the Pickwick Dam. With a stroke of lucky timing, we drove right into the waiting lock that already had 15 boats tied up and we took the last bollard before they closed the doors! Amazing~~~ At that point we felt incredibly fortunate to be inside without waiting and subsequently, we welcomed the rain and wind as we held Irene on the wall against the forces of nature and the turbulence of the water filling the lock.

Irene is the last boat on the far back, right side as you look at the lock. This photo came from the lock’s fb page. Who knew locks had fb pages? You can see how massive the chambers are to accommodate barges and ships. You can also see that that there was a bass fishing tournament happening by the bass boats heading into the dam.

Exiting the lock, the Pickwick Dam greeted us with a gusty WNW wind and big waves. Our destination, the Safe Harbor Aqua Marina, was just over five miles from the lock. It felt longer, but once we turned off the dam into a wide creek, actually called “Pickwick Lake”, to head to the marina, the wind was somewhat blocked and the waves subsided. Another bit of luck as the dockage was tight. So tight, I actually asked to have our slip reassigned. They accommodated the request (sometimes you just have to ask for you want). Without complaining, I will say this about the slip we ended up in- We are sharing it with the biggest spiders we’ve ever seen and a large colony of turtles. I am good with one of those.

Neighboring turtle.

We took advantage of a sunny Halloween Sunday to scrub Irene and defrost the freezer. The less glamorous side of life on a boat. On the brighter side, we had dinner with Looping friends that live aboard their boat Sisu, Jim and Kristi. We had met them on our two day trip from Peoria, Beardstown, and Hardin, Illinois and then later, we docked in front of them in Paducah. We caught up and shared stories, made hopeful plans to meet again, most likely in Florida but, who knows? This kind of traveling is truly dictated by the weather and by where you can anchor, dock or tie up for the night. You just have to go with it and greet the moments as they present themselves to you.

Irene’s out there under the cover.

Irene is scheduled to be hauled out today. We’ve spent over a week communicating with the service department about the work and yet, it’s 10:44AM and we have yet to see anyone at the boat. We did walk up to the boat yard at 8AM to greet them and it was obvious that the “system” (sometimes the absence of a system is apparently the system) and the workers (gracious and calm) are a bit submerged by the backlog of boat work and promises made. There were already two folks ahead of us to greet them. I have a sinking feeling that we will be staying in Iuka longer than we anticipated or desired. One of us is taking the news and the probable waiting, a lot better than the other 😉

I recognize that waiting can be difficult. I believe the secret to successful waiting is to change the story we tell ourselves and to acknowledge that our needs will be met, in good time. If any of you dear readers need some practice at developing better waiting skills here are a few ideas. Seriously. 1) When you are in a store and heading to the check-out line, go to the longest one. 2) Practice driving more slowly and welcoming red lights. It’s an opportunity to be present. 3) Always slow down as soon as traffic lights turn to yellow. 4) When you feel yourself getting pissy, heart rate rising, maybe frustration or anger surfacing, practice “recovery breathing”. That is, breath in deeply through your nose and hold it a few seconds, then blow out your mouth. Maybe these things will help to remind you that we are not ruled by our bodies and our blood pressure. We are minds and we are spirit and we are free to choose how we respond to everything. 5) We need to tell ourselves better stories. Reframe folks. Reframe. 6) Maybe sing this little song out loud: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkYL1b7MCEw

“Data” Update: Monday, November 1st, 2021

  • We have been in 18 states
  • We’ve been traveling for 194 days
  • We have traveled approximately 4800 miles
  • We are 450 miles from Mobile, Alabama
  • From here, we will go 10 miles across the dam then turn into the long downhill of the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway to Demopolis, Alabama
  • We can expect a lot of current against us-
  • While I have lost count of the number of locks we have been through, I do know there are 10 locks in the Tennessee-Tom Canal
  • The average drop in the locks will be 30′ but the Jamie Whitten Lock has a whopping 84′ drop!
….and every step. Peace ya’ll. Peace.

Whole New World

Heading southwest on the Illinois River.

It’s a beautiful world out there; far beyond what we can imagine. Being immersed in new places, new people, and first ever experiences, does more than make us appreciate seeing the world anew. It makes us feel old and familiar feelings in new ways. David and I were making a list of the things that are old and new at the same time. Things that are unexpected and familiar too. The things we covered seemed infinite because literally everything raises the feeling that we keep “getting new eyes”.

This conversation began a long time ago but became more earnest when we arrived at Passini’s Henry Harbor Marina. We had been told that the marina wall was an old lock wall and that it was “extremely rough” however; what we found was the most beautiful marina wall in a place that was filled with light and love. From the first text message from our host, Mary Frances Passini (who wears her office on her back), through all our moments there, we continually reflected on how there seemed to be nothing more beautiful than that old lock wall that was waiting for us against a backdrop of the Illinois River, an aging local bridge, 5 dimensional clouds, and warm sunshine. And Mary Francis, she is one of the hardest working women I have ever met. She wears her big heart on her sleeve and lives a life that she and her husband are creating to preserve the past and make the future better for everyone; for their friends in Henry who love the river life, and for Loopers like us who are so appreciative of safe and welcoming harbors.

IRENE on the new old wall in Henry, Illinois.
A lot of life flowing through this place.
Geese are the ultimate alarm clock in Henry.
White Pelicans appreciating a day on the river too.

We rose early from Henry to continue on to Peoria, IL. For us, it was a short travel day, but the conversation of “old and new” things continued. One of David’s favorite topics is “food”. For some context, David loves about 10 things and likes a few more. His favorites are rooted in the meals his mother cooked and served to his family. He likes meat. He likes all the white food: cheese, bread, butter, potatoes, white fish (i.e. haddock, walleye, cod), shrimp and milk. Somehow, few meals quite reach the height of the deliciousness his mom made however; this trip has freed up his taste buds with appreciation for others to make his “old favorites” really well. “New old” favorites include: the shrimp at Rick’s on Jekyll Island, GA, that feed on sweetgrass from the creeks; crab cakes from his sister Kathie’s in Maryland; chicken Marsala from Nicolino’s in Amsterdam, NY; walleye from The Cove in Leland, MI; pizza from Chuckwagon in Ludington, MI; the filet at Joe’s Steakhouse in Chicago; the fries at DuSable Harbor; pork chops at Red Dog Grill at Heritage Harbor; and the pot roast at Jim’s Bistro in Peoria (to name a few). I think it’s pretty cool that after 74 years of life, 29 years of being together, and a whole lot of eating, that David is discovering how amazingly delicious life is, literally.

David’s larger than life sized portion of “outstanding” Pot Roast at Jim’s Bistro in Peoria 😉
IRENE on the dock at the Illinois Valley Yacht Harbor (IVY)

That’s it, friends. No great literary moments here today, only simple reflections on beauty, the natural world, the waterways, some history, a hard working woman, the impact of our mamas, the food of our families, changing, growing and the interconnectedness of it all.

But if you love a great poem, here’s one just for you.

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile, the world goes on.
Meanwhile, the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile, the wild geese, high in the clear blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

-Mary Oliver

Heading West: The Inland Waterways

Exiting the Chicago Lock. Where Lake Michigan ends for us.

Entering the Chicago River. 40 bridges in 5 miles~~~

The US inland waterways represent an entirely different type of environment for us. Unlike the Hudson River in NYC, the Chicago River is tight and densely populated. Turning the corner south west into the Illinois River, the landscape is BIG industrial complexes and barges on both sides, loading and transporting things like mulch, coal, cement, and other elements we couldn’t identify. There are also a few miles of water where the Army Corp of Engineers run an electrically charged field to stop giant carp from reaching the great lakes. They say to watch out for the big fish jumping into your boat, they’re dangerous, but we didn’t see any. Here are a few examples of what we did see:

Waiting for an Amtrak bridge to open.
Barge loading…
An Egret 🤍

Our first day was long and we didn’t see any other cruisers until evening, on the free wall in Joliette, IL. The wall has a bad reputation due to crime however; after 47 miles and three locks, we decided it was preferable to doing 15 more miles and two more locks. The locks are enormous and all commercial vessels have priority which means waiting can be hours long then to refill the chamber for us to enter and be lowered can also take “forever”. In the end, it was a pretty uneventful night with the exception of sirens and trains. 🙏🏽

Lots of police driving by the wall. Not sure if that made us feel safer or not, but David made a friend 😂
Nice boat on a rough wall.
Exiting the massive Lockport, IL, lock.

Day two on the rivers we traveled in a flotilla with the six other boats who had also stayed on the wall. It made things interesting and we had to raft up to go through the locks. Something new for us. It was also an even longer day- Almost ten hours to Ottowa, IL. We waited several hours for the lock in Marceilles due to a huge barge taking hours to load and exit the lock chamber. We dropped anchor and tried to relax LOL.

A couple of beauties in our flotilla waiting alongside us. A 70 foot Marlowe and a 53 foot Selene.
And these two beautiful creatures, Eagle and Hawk.
Tied up in a lock with other Loopers ♾

It was just getting dark when we pulled into our slip at the Heritage Harbor Marina. It felt really nice to float Irene into a beautiful cement tiled dock. It was windy and I was thrilled we were all safe and sound. Also, nice to see a kid waiting to grab a line from David. Im not sure if I have mentioned the fact that I am doing all the steering into/out of locks and all the docking. If there’s a learning curve, I am rounding the bend. Sometimes, like last night, my heart rate noticeably increases and I need to calm myself down but mostly, I’m doing great. Last night I got 💯

Safe and sound.

We have some bad weather moving in and we are staying a day or two. Tonight we are attending a lecture the Harbormaster is giving about traveling from here down to the Mississippi. Kind of excited to learn more about what we can expect ahead. No doubt though, the unknowns far outnumber the known.

Keep the faith ya’ll ❤️‍🔥 The days are getting shorter so we all need to turn up our light and shine on. Shine bright, friends.

This Week on Lake Michigan: WIND~~~

Hello, Tropical Storm.

Looks like we will be staying in Ludington, Michigan for a few more day (or weeks). I’ve never actually seen a forecast like this before. I open the weather app and I’m like, “No way”. So I go to the NOAA site, “No way”….I use the WINDY app….”Can’t be”. Then, I listen to the weather radio and I’m like, “Holy shit”. Just when we had it all planned out to arrive in Chicago by October 1st, the universe and the wind elements conspired with the full Harvest Moon to make us sit tight a while longer. So, here we sit. Here we do all the things, except move the boat.

Oh, and not going to swim either.

This morning I rose around 5:30 to howling wind, pounding rain, and the fairly gentle rocking of the boat on the dock. I did my morning mediation and boiled water for coffee. By the time David rose, all the windows were covered in a thick fog of steam (condensation from the teakettle) and it was a bit otherworldly. He looked around and said- I quote, “I’m going to go lay back down”. Yeah, buddy. You can go lay down for a week. I’m just going to write something in the blog about the wind; though the image of the marine forecast speaks for itself.

Today I am going to walk out to the lighthouse at the end of the breakwater and watch the waves crash. I’m going to take a cab to an actual grocery store and get some delicious ingredients to make a few home cooked meals. (One thing IRENE is blessed with a really nice gas range.) Then I’ll listen to my favorite rainy day playlists while I cook. I am going to think good thoughts and contemplate my North Star. If I have any time left, my Kindle is loaded and so is my Prime Video. Feels like a staycation coming on.

Double this 🧀🧈 🍲
(And, no Kaitie, this will not taste as good with that vegan cheese shit.)

This is my first time trying to embed a playlist from Pandora, where I store music. If you right click on the link, and if it works to get you there, and you like it, you can sing along with me.


And if none of these provoke a joyful noise in you, maybe this little ray of sunshine will-

Isla 🌞

Lake Michigan

What an amazing world we live in. What an amazing place this planet is. How lucky are we that we could imagine this voyage, manifest it, and live this sovereign dream out while discovering places that our imaginations never imagined so well? The timing of this all is no coincidence. Stepping out of the matrix at the exact moment we did, when we were focusing on being away from the every day world, out in nature, experiencing freedom and focusing on improving our health. Out here, not only on Lake Michigan, but all the waters, harbors and places along the way, we are a little closer to God.

Great Manitou Island

So, here we are on day three of the second leg, second “half”, of completing the Great Loop. We spent our first night on our anchor in an unbelievable place, Round Lake, just up a short river opening and one draw bridge from Lake Michigan in Charlevoix, MI. It is literally a round lake that is surrounded by beautiful homes, boat houses and a small but bustling town. We had to drop the anchor in 30 feet of water because the overall depth is between 50 and 150 feet. While it’s less than ideal to anchor in 30 feet of water, it worked out beautifully with a light breeze and a tremendously starry night.

An image from Round Lake.
A “mushroom house” on Round Lake.

Listening to the forecast for the next few days, it was clear things were about to change. We took advantage of a brief window of good marine weather to leave early in the morning and travel as far as we could comfortably travel to the next safe harbor marina in Leland, Michigan. What a profound work of nature it is! Surrounded by Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore and the Manitou Islands, we could not have asked for a more stunning sanctuary to ride out the 30mph winds that having been blowing all day. Over the bow and over the breakwater we can see the white caps. Irene is being pushed hard into the dock and we have been checking lines and adjusting fenders all day. After a heavy morning rain we walked to a local coffee shop (confession, I had hot chocolate) and enjoyed the work of local painters. It was good to get off the boat and feel the solid and unmoving ground under our feet.

Morning rain in Leland Harbor and the most beautiful sailboat, Songtao, in her slip.
Walking in Leland ⛪️
Windy day view from Irene. Van’s Beach, Leland, Ic

David and I have faced a lot of tense moments throughout this journey, I won’t lie, from start to now. Some I have mentioned in this blog and some that we simply went through. We all know what those feelings are like, we recognized them, but those experiences also make us who we are. Our progress depends on us. The last few days have given me hope for our species. I believe if we can raise our collective frequency more and more, even though life is challenging and sometimes, even often uncomfortable, it is up to us to raise ourselves up. I believe fear is a weak frequency and unless you’re being confronted by a tiger or something deadly, let it go. Fear doesn’t serve us and takes the wonder out of being alive because fear likes to hang out in the unknown and if we stop at the fear, we won’t go anywhere! Paul Selig says, fears job is like a virus or cancer, to replicate itself. He says, “prudence, not fear”. David and I wouldn’t be here if we didn’t realize this. We can’t be victims and creators at the same time~~~

Be thoughtful, be careful, be mindful, be brave, be grateful. Our thoughts and our actions make the moment we are in and they determine the future. Bless everything in the eternal now. Bless everything and it blesses you back in ways you haven’t even imagined yet. Broken record blog writer here, but I’m going to say it again, it’s a reflective universe.

Ok readers. I gotta go shout “I am free, I am free, I am free” from the bow of the boat.

The view of the Mackinaw Bridge from the bow (aka the upper room).

Presque Isle, Michigan

Northeast Kingdom of Michigan, Presque Isle Point.

We believe we found one of the most beautiful places on earth. And the form of the world reflected this. It was palpable the moment we were greeted at the dock by a group of dockhands and when we met the sailor on a neighboring boat, literally, love was all around us.

There was abundant peace in Presque Isle. From the Harbor to the back roads and even during a dramatic storm, it was an amazing place. We lingered there for three days! It was soul food. It was our neighbor offering us his truck to drive 60 miles (each way) to Cheboygan to pick up David’s prescriptions. It was the local farmer, Otto, and the wonderful food he raised. It was free bikes and dirt roads. It was cooking a Sunday dinner together. It was reading good books in the sunshine. It was exploring beaches and lighthouses. It was turquoise water and white sand. It was a million stars and the Milky Way.

Biking to the “old” lighthouse. Working on my coordination.

Some sights from Presque Isle

The “Old” Lighthouse.
The “New” Lighthouse.
Inside the Old Lighthouse.
My free wheels.
The marina.

Presque Isle is a place you carry with you. Small but mighty. Peaceful and energetic. A place where one meets strangers who may be angels.

Regardless of the love fest’, we needed to get to Rogers City for a number of things, mainly an oil change, and we headed out On Monday morning (Labor Day) into a northwest wind that built. Not our first choice, but we felt good and the sun was shining. It was a bit rough when we turned up, away from Presque Isle Point. Not a ride for the faint of heart. A 20 mile event.

Four foot seas. We got through it.
Land ahoy!

Wishing you peace, wherever you are.