On Desire

Day 30 2:45 pm.

Day 30

Down at the beach with Jeni and Nancy to open my wind window. Steve came jogging by and they introduced us. He’s working at the steel mill and said that before US Steel bought it and nixed everyone’s pensions, it almost became a worker cooperative. Later he returned with his wife Randy with some sweet arrowheads that he had made! He gave me the pick and I immediately snatched the rainbow obsidian, what a beaut.

I offered him one of my artifacts of the global life support system but Jeni took it instead – the polished concrete from in front of Fritz’s in Douglas.

Steve also gave me an organic PB and J, so that about wraps up his application as producer. Imagine what we could accomplish with Michael AND Steve.

Send off from the secret freak tribe at Ogden Dunes, Steve is taking the picture

Dan the other filmmaker showed up too and Nancy’s sister – we had a crowd! I was off the beach by 10:30 into a very light wind, Calumet looked very far. As usual, the gods kicked in and we were hauling ass by 2:30 roaring past the breakwaters of the point and into the harbor. I had a sketchy idea where I was going, but studying images on the net paid off. The mooring is kinda wavy, but the beach was an easy offload. We’ll probably move north soon.

Loaded up with technology and even less of a plan, (eat something) I biked off into the wilds of south Chicago. I was feeling like a bit of an idiot, where was I going? My iphone was out of power, so no helpful searching. The mural of Jake and Elwood was encouraging, I just needed to stop worrying and flow. Eventually a train station appeared and I waited on the “To Chicago” side. The conductor was very helpful and suggested I get off downtown for a Taste of Chicago. I didn’t really care about the festival, but I’d been downtown before. Why not?

Detraining at Monroe, I rode seemingly at random until I found my burrito place – small, good food, cute waitresses and one table with power to charge the iPhone – hurrah! I searched for hotels, then an inspiration… hostels! Remember hostels? The Hostel International Chicago was just a few blocks away for $30 a night. A bike room, laundry, crappy wireless and oblivious young clods – what more could I ask for? At least waves won’t be bashing my spine at 3:00 am. If I can find a solid home for HW, I’ll haunt Chicago for a few days and catch up on the project, duplicate hard drives and ship them home. Maybe within a week we can be back on schedule… Whoa!

What can I say about a night at Chicago’s Hostels International? Generally it’s fun – bunk beds and common bathrooms, padlocking gear. You’re not supposed to drink in bed, but I am constantly needing to hydrate from days in the sun so I took my water bottle up to the top bunk with me – and my laptop, camera, phone… After I nodded off I heard the my bottle slip between the bunk and wall and fell into my neighbor’s bed below. I had dreams of his bed flooding, of my camera getting wet.

Then some duffus came in, turned on his reading light and left for another two hours. I can sleep through a lot but WTF? Coming entirely awake at 3:00 am, I toyed with a scheme for hauling my water bottle back up by dropping a slip knot over it. I could clearly see it between his bed and the wall thanks to the light of the inconsiderate oaf. Problem solving is so much of my moment to moment experience now that it’s like breathing. Fishing with a slip knot in some random dude’s bed seemed fraught with peril, so I bagged the project and resigned myself to fate. Mr reading light finally returned, read for 5 minutes and turned off the light. Just then my downstairs neighbor headed for the bathroom. I pulled on some pants, jumped down and grabbed my bottle. I took it and my phone down the hall to the empty conference room for some charging and catchup time.

Too late to go back to bed – 5:00 am! 7 hours to get to O’Hare airport to meet an old pal. Around 7:00 I checked out the hearty all GMO breakfast the hostel had provided for the kids of less gullible nations and chatted with Anna from Argentina. She was a latina ringer for Sarah Eichberger-Wheeler.

Day 29

Off the New Buffalo Public Beach at 11:00 am after a quick run for groceries and one last visit to the restrooms. The wind was out of the northeast at maybe 9 knots, good for southwest course. At 12:30 I passed Michigan City, Indiana with it’s 3 mile island style cooling tower. Goodbye Michigan, Hello Indiana.

Looking back at Michigan City

Steel mill east of Ogden Dunes and Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore

The wind was a bit puffy and capricious, but it was generally one long curving tack until 2:30 pm, well near the steel mill at Burns Harbor or Port. That’s when we made a decisive turn towards shore and the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. I performed a rather clumsy landing and yanked the boat up enough to drain the starboard hull.

The first federal employee on the scene (a lifeguard) was less than welcoming – “Get off the beach,” basically. “I doubt the Gary police will let you park on the City’s beach, and Ogden Dunes has a lot of rules, you probably won’t have any luck there either.” This guy probably didn’t have anything waiting for him at home but a Swanson TV dinner and Seinfeld reruns. Life without magic, what a concept. Turning Hello World into the wind so she’d stay put, I started casting the home spell.

First I called the Gary police and asked the dispatcher to have the beach patrol call me back. Then I headed for Ogden Dunes and the masts poking out the dune grass. I started asking folks I met along the way, “I’m looking for a beach to keep my Hobie for the night.” Nancy told me about Jim, a big sailor and pointed out his house. Before i got there I saw a kid sitting on Hello World’s sister. “Hey, this your boat? Are your parents around, I’m looking for a place to park my Hobie for the night, my name’s Dan.”

His name was Zach and his friend Kyle appeared suddenly from under a kayak. Kinda reminded me of a turtle popping his head out of a shell. I told them my deal and then made my way to the next cluster of Hobie 16s and up to the house behind them.

I met Vicki at her front door and she said I was welcome to park my boat there but I might get a ticket. I thanked her and said I might to her up on the offer.

I hustled back to Hello World and called the Gary Police again just to have some options. The dispatcher wasn’t much help so I thought about calling Gary’s mayor. As his website didn’t have a phone number, I decided to go with my Ogden Dunes plan. Just as I was pushing off an actual ranger showed up. He told me the Feds had jurisdiction for the beach all the into Ogden Dunes but that he wouldn’t bust my boat unless there was a complaint. Thanking him and thouroughly confused, I dragged my baby into the waves.

As I pulled up in front of my safe house, I was greeted by Tom, Zach’s dad. Zach had told his dad and mom Jeni about this guy sailing around Lake Michigan. They invited me to stay with them for the night. How about that?

Zach, Kyle and another pal Cody and had just taken the family’s Hobie out for thier first big wind solo. They were hell bent for Chicago and looked like they might be having a little trouble turning around. Tom and I unloaded Hello World and prepared for a rescue run. By the time we were both wetsuited, harnessed and life preserved, they were heading back. Us old guys were able to stand down.

Tom and Jeni

After the three amigos flew up on the beach like total dudes, Tom took Kyle and Zach back out again while Cody watched me scarf Jeni’s cous cous and beans. Her daughter’s a vegetarian too so she gets it.

They took me home to meet the 4 dogs and grab an ecstatic hot shower. Then the old folks sipped tea and watched the lads doing phenomenal dive tricks in the backyard pool. Before enjoying the sleep of the just, i showed Tom and Jeni the ALM trailer online.

Zach and his pals reminded me of the iconic gang in Bradbury’s R is for Rocket. Made me miss my nephews!

Day 28

I woke up bright and fine after a terrific rest. Having surveyed the forest last night, I knew a nitrogen drop off was doable. The rich loamy sand of the forest floor had a dense root mat. I found a deep pocket of forest far from any trail, scrapped off the duff, opened the mat and dug a hole about 6″ deep. I emptied the poopamatic into the hole, replaced the soil, mat and lastly the duff.

Returning to the boat I crawled back into the tent until the sun climbed over the dune and made it feel like the inside of a light bulb. Before packing, repairs.

A cargo bracket had slipped out and had to be reseated. In the process of tightening I broke a buckle and had to replace it from spares. I sat down with the tiller extender in the shade and slowly worked it open. Wading into the waves with it, I coaxed it open and closed until all the sand was flushed out. Now it’s good as new.

I started getting ready and got as far as rigging the mainsail when the uphaul came untied and flew up the mast and out of reach. My options were either to shimmy up a 25 ft slick aluminum mast, drop the mast or tip the boat on it’s side. Option 3 was my choice and I eventually was able to get the needed leverage by hanging both dry bags and the anchor bags from the wire. She came over like a dream and back to upright without a hitch. By the time I was off the beach and into the big curlers it was 1:30 pm.

I has slept just a couple miles from the Cook nuclear plant, and I passed it sailing sw in a west wind. The wind tapered from a stiff blow to a whimper by 4:30, leaving me stranded in front of New Buffalo. A couple in a largish monohull helpfully told me where I was. They eventually gave up on the wind and motored in. I eventually followed powered by paddle and the occasional puff. On the way in I recovered a mighty blue plastic container which Mike and his family claimed for a recycling bin.

Sunset at New Buffalo

Friendly lighthouse at New Buffalo Public Beach

I supped at the Brewster, a stellar Italian restaurant. Before commiting to the Brewster, I confirmed my plan with the locals at the open til midnight boatshop. That’s where I bought my very own Thirsty Mate like the one Tim Cook had loaned me in Grand Haven. I still haven’t tried the sealant Mark and Marilyn gave me.

I’d like to say the evening was pleasant but I’d be lying. It was very blowy back at the boat but I pitched the tent on the tramp anyway and tried to sleep. I was up at 2:00 am and then again at 3:00 am with incredible night sweats, I think I might be getting sick. The waves were getting louder and the wind was giving the tent a fascinating geometry. I stuck my hand out and into the sand, it was wet! Waves were getting closer.

I offloaded the boat in the moonlight and dragged her to higher ground. I wrapped myself in a tarp behind the gear pile and crashed. I eventually added a sleeping bag to this arrangement to keep from freezing and enjoyed 2-3 hours of blissful unconsciousness. Now for a quick grocery run then vamos.

Day 27

I didn’t sleep so well. I thought i’d disguise myself as gear again and just slip between the trampoline and the tarp, but the mosquito bloom and the dead air nixed that. I eventually threw caution to the wind and popped the tent for a few hours of unmolested repose. Camping in Jack Nicholas Park?! You’re under arrest.

Sitting on a log in Jean Klock Park and it’s starting to rain. I’m half in half out of my wetsuit. Tried to launch at 10:30 am but the wind turned into fitful eddies as a big storm approached. The robots were raving about lots of lightning, 60 mph winds, hail… Ho hum. I might slip the top of my suit on now, wind is picking up – uh oh…

As I was prepping for my first launch a pigeon landed on Hello World. I had seen this very same pigeon rescued from the Big Lake the day before by a sweet woman. She had released thr bird in a pile of driftwood near the boat. Now the bird was back, maybe wanting to come with? She hopped to my gear pile and started hunting around. The Panda licorish I tossed over didn’t generate much interest. I chased her a little to see if she could fly, and lo she could. She seemed almost tame tho. I grabbed a handful of oats and tossed them next to her woodpile. I saw her pecking politely at them as i walked away. I think her name is Jean Klock.

On my first launch attempt Carol showed up and waved me back to the beach. “It’s going to storm.” said she. “I gotta go!” replied me. She sat on the beach and watched my slow motion exit sans wind. The robots were saying things like “small boats are advised to seek safe harbor until the storm passes”. After 30 minutes of these warnings and no motion, I started to feel like a sitting duck. Carol’s gone by the time I get back to the beach. A sprinkle, some gusting, a flash or two and the killer storm is finished. My steady sw switches on while i’m rerigging and some nice folks offer suggestions for mooring in Chi, Monroe Harbor.

Off the beach and into the strong wind, 15-20 knots. Jammed tiller prevents getting on the wire. With coaxing it’s slightly unstuck – enough to dance on wave crests, to be a giant striding over liquid mountains. Singing on the wire!

Just south of west and south east, great long tacks of 5 miles out and the 4 miles in. Bike comes loose, scramble and a quick fix in the wild waves. I approach the coast knowing that i’ve not made much southern progress. I have no idea where I am. A grand entry riding the wire right up on a private beach, Pete gets out of his chair to greet me. Pointing to the vintage 16 parked on his beach, I announce, “I am here to deliver a special message – sail that Hobie!” I ask him what town we’re in. “Grand mere, ok, so the state park is right there? Don’t forget that Hobie. Ciao.”

I depart Pete’s domain and ponder several more hours of tacking. It’s already 5:30 pm. Grand Mere here I come!

Beached and ready for night night on Grand Mere

Inside the mosquito free zone

This is a what a sunset looks like near a nuke power plant

Meet Mary on landing and she talks about kids having legal autonomy. A couple wanders by with an enthusiastic water dog and I get to toss the ball for him. He’s trained to circle for dead ducks. I do a quick survey of the forest topside – mosquitos and mushrooms, beauty! Out and back again, time to quit. Pat, Mary and Theresa are my last visitors. Konk 10 pm.

Day 25 and 26

Jean Klock park. Spent yesterday and this morning with Carol deconstructing the very sleezy maneuvers required to tear down exquisite wild dunes and privatize a community commons. Will a poorly designed golf course and an upscale brownfield development really become the new economic engine of Benton Harbor?

The Jean Klock Park Wikipedia article includes an excerpt from John Klock’s dedication in 1917. He and his wife Carrie gave the park to Benton Harbor as a memorial to their deceased daughter, Jean. Emphasis is mine.

“In taking an inventory of life, we all take stock of the circumstances surrounding the happiest moments. The giving of this park to the city of Benton Harbor has been to Mrs. Klock and myself, the happiest moment of our lives. The deed of this park in the courthouse of St. Joseph will live forever. Perhaps some of you do not own a foot of ground, remember then, that this is your park, it belongs to you. Perhaps some of you have no piano or phonograph, the roll of the water murmuring in calm, roaring in storm, is your music, your piano and music box.”

In closing Klock affirmed: “The beach is yours, the drive is yours, the dunes are yours, all yours. It is not so much a gift from my wife and myself, it’s a gift from a little child. See to it, that the park is the children’s.”

Fast forward 90+ years. About 2/3 of the park has been leased to a commercial golf course and land development scheme, Harbor Shores. Prior to this horror show, a chunk of the park was sold to private parties for beachfront homes. Talk about invader species. The legal battles have been long and hard fought. The last gasp of the suicide culture deploying the same failed strategies with predicatable results. In the short term, loss of wilds and the subversion of local democracy.

So where is the future here? How does this illustrate the emergence of sustainable civilizations?

I think the answer is Carol Drake. She’s a tenacious being with a fierce love of the wilds. Decades into the struggle, she still sheds a tear recalling the Jean Klock Park of her youth. She might feel weary and despondent but she won’t rest until the invaders are repelled and the land healed. She’s doesn’t have wealth or advanced degrees, she just loves that park. That’s what gives her the gumption to keep shoving sabots into the flywheels of the death machine. She hasn’t stopped it yet but she’s certainly slowed it down, made it smoke and grind. Like the Klock’s she copes with her broken heart by giving the gift of the earth. Her continued existence is evidence of a miraculous sustaining energy. It’s my theory that the global life support system has been flowing through her. She is the vanguard, we are all getting plugged in.

Her dunes are coming back.

After phone calls and goodbyes, I walked over from Fritz’s to the Schumann’s beach, turned Hello World around and ate breakfast. The wind was blowing about 15-20 mph and there was great waves for body surfing. Two kids who I assumed belonged to the Schumanns were frolicking in the water and eventually George Schumann’s son Brian came down. Barb wandered by and Ted Ring was playing around with his Hobie in the surf, obviously waiting for me to get my act together.

Marty and Roxy stopped by to find out what my deal was, and Roxy asked a great question, “Hello World, does that have something to do with Perl?” My heart went pitter pat – a geek girl!
“Well it’s common to all software languages, because typically the first computer program folks write displays the words ‘hello world’ on the screen.”
We enjoyed a silent moment of insider affinity.

Ted came in and watched me wrap up the pre-flight. He even caught me in an oversight. We yanked HW into the water with the help of Brian and then Ted jumped on his boat and escorted me out. By the time I hit the lake it was 2:00 pm, kinda late.

Passed South Haven at 4:00 and the nuke plant around 6:00. Now it’s nearly 7:00 and the wind is gone. I’m about 2 miles from shore and 10 miles from Benton Harbor. Guess I’ll try for land while the suns up.

Day 24

There’s steady WNW wind this morning, good for heading south. I’ve got a stop I might make along the way to Benton Harbor today. I’m looking to round out the Lake’s bottom before the month ends. What’s in Chicago? I don’t have any hookups there yet, I’m just going to wing it – maybe make a spontaneous landing north or south and introduce myself to some beachfront homeowner or find the municipal marina. Likewise, I don’t have a clear plan for Gary which I’ll be passing before Chi, but I do have a dark fantasy about a clandestine overnight somewhere in the industrial badlands. This could be the most beautiful and/or harrowing leg of the trip.

First Benton Harbor then a night somewhere in the Indiana Dunes, favored by sweet breezes. Alternate outcomes are infinite, I am open.

Yesterday I edited some of the Vince Gallant segment, pulled Hello World further up the beach and then took the Swans up on their gracious offer to share food at Tracy’s. The rye bread? Fuggedaboudit!

Thanks to Dawn and George Schummer and Fred Eagle Royce for providing power and showers, Catherine Bragdon for our interview in the park, the crew of the chain ferry who I didn’t get a chance to film cause it was closed when I went back, the Swan’s, RJ Peterson, The Oval Beach staff including Tom and especially Vicky Morales, Barb the beach glass and rust collector, Kelsey, Bruce, Tom for the sobering reminder that white supremacy skulks in these pretty little towns (some of my best friends are black people, but…), Amos Kennedy the humble negro printer, Tracy and Marcia.

Day 23

Woke to big thunder and flashes. Wind is less than ideal. Planning to hang here at Fred’s for another day and edit. Jet in the AM for Benton Harbor and St Joe.

Day 22

Waking at Schumann’s 7:00 am, gotta move on over to Fred Eagle Royce’s and then get to town for an interview with RJ Peterson, marina magnate, community booster, friend to the late Dennison and self proclaimed conservationist.

RJ asserts the development proposed by McClendon will be a boon and the best bet for low impact development on the dunes, but also opined that whatever happens on the former Dennison property will not make a wit of difference to the Saugatuck / Douglas economy. For RJ, the harbor is what matters. A municipal marina would help bring support for dredging and maintenance. What if bigger boats could get in as in days of old? What if the Kewadin could get out? RJ is gruff, outspoken and perhaps even a bit stubborn, but I suspect he is more open minded than most locals give him credit for. When I asked him if he was on the McClendon payroll, he barked “I wish!” That’s a sort of integrity, IMHO.

Ignoring or dismissing this dynamic curmudgeon would be a huge blunder. Like the shifting dunes and great pounding shoreline, RJ embodies the heritage and majesty of the region. He is practically a force of nature.

Later Alison and David Swan met with me. They described an aesthetic and economic vision for the community that I found far more compelling and realistic than any old school development so far proposed, low impact or high.

RJ and the Swans have two complementary hunks of one great plan. I wonder if they know…

Julie gave me a hard time about getting a map going and today I finally did all the digital magic. There’s also an updated itinerary at You are here.

Local!

Day 20

In Kalamazoo zoo zoo this morning with plans to see the Pekarovic’s goat ranch before jetting back to Saugatuck with Susan. 7:30 am departure turned into 9:30 am because I stayed up editing the Great Lakes Aquatics segment instead of packing. Got an interesting opening I think.

After hugging my new eastern european brothers goodbye, we made it to Wick’s Park gazebo 15 minutes early. Picked up contact info for the Schumann’ enroute, they had offered to shelter Hello World for the duration of our Saug stay.

Interviewed Catherine Bragdon until 1:00 pm and then Susan and I shared a greasy lunch at the Elbo Room.

Back to Oval Park and Saugatuck Dunes Natural Area. Hello World was off her Baolongs but otherwise perfect. Susan crashed on the trampoline as I brought the gear over from the parking lot in 3 trips. Susan split and the boat and me made the move to the Schumanns beach, about 1 mile south. They are generous folks with a lovely home (including wireless) and have offered to put me up too!

Into town for hot beverages at Uncommon Grounds. A quick conversation with Gretchen about the doings back in the hood. Returning to my suite at the Schumann’s for some editing and more lightning posts. Coincidence – our latest benefactors live on Lakeshore Drive which turns into Campbell Rd, as in Mike an Shala Campbell.

A new strategy is needed for the blog. Tho I enjoy writing, trying to craft posts just takes too much time! I’m falling further and further behind. The plan is to try a twitter influenced approach, distillation and supplement with pix when available. Let me know how this works.

Around Lake Michigan, Search for Sustainable Civilizations

Watch the movie excerpt – 13:30 minutes. This is intended to give the basic premise of the project. What artifacts of future sustainable civilizations can be found in Ritch Branstrom’s interview?

The full size and fixed size versions require a fast internet connection. For slower connections, try small.

Feedback about the ALM excerpt is encouraged and appreciated via comments. Please let us know which link you followed above.

Day 15 – 16

Paused in the Pine Motel parking lot on the way back from Wallys, riding the Zilliax Miyata back to Oval beach in the rain. It was a warm rain and I wanted to add a little more to this blog entry. I stopped there for some solid wireless, dripping and pecking at the screen. I should have just checked in. I got back to Oval Beach and following through on my promise to not camp. I pushed Hello World into the surf and anchored for the night… or so I thought. Once out there snug in the tent, the wind came up and started to buffet the boat. Waves smashed the bottom of the trampoline and rolled down my spine. Backwards and forwards, up and down with Hello World creaking and complaining all the while. I eventually bit the bullet and traded my warmish sleeping bag for a wet wetsuit in preparation for an emergency beaching. The worst thing is to do have to hard manual labor after nearly falling asleep. She was secure by the time first light arrived and I got started getting her ready for a few days alone, hauling gear to the parking lot.

Day 16-19

Susan’s smiling face around 10:00 am then 45 minutes back to Kalamazoo (Kzoo, Kazoo) and Garland Gardens (Vince and Susan’s house). Trot the gear up to my garret and start charging. Quick tour of the home farm, 100+ tomato plants. Vince’s mom and Aunt Rose arrive, then Vince himself from packing his classroom, (they’re refinishing the floors at school over the summer). Pizza for dinner, then off to record Vince performing with the Kalamazoo Mandolin and Guitar Orchestra conducted by Miles Kusik and featuring Carlo Aonzo. There’s an after glow at our house where I finally break out the Larrivee and play and sing with members of KMGO. Vince fuels the evening with homebrew beer.

Since constant vigilance and top performance is not currently required, my body demands rest. I yawn and groan constantly.

Wake up on Thursday and organize the blog and posts. I am way behind and intent on catching up. Processing Vixia video with Final Cut Pro takes time, so the computer and hard drives are constantly munching. In the afternoon take the camera to a practice of Great Lake Aquatics (Akitas) the swimming club and racing team that Vince coaches. His coaching is what I’ve come to document. Use the Aquapac underwater bag for the Vixia successfully, tho it continues to be awkward. Kids are a little creeped out by guy in pool with camera. I am caught of guard when Vince introduces me after practice and do a lame job of explaining the project. Home for dinner with Susan and noodling on guitars. Blackout.

Great Lakes Aquatics Summer Solstice swim meet starts on Friday and I’m there to make movies of the Akitas racing against other clubs from around the Michigan and Canada. Catch a ride there and back with Dan from the team, a habitually happy guy. Big storm sweeps through with winds up to 70 mph on Lake Michigan. I fret for Hello World and put a call into Vicki at Oval Park and text to Dave and Allison at Saugatuck Dunes Coastal Alliance. While waiting for the pot of oopama I am making for the fam and visiting swimmers, get creamed at the card game Set by teens. Spend an hour or so interviewing Vince. Video processing is ongoing, begin to run short on hard drive space. Will have to buy additional drives eventually.

Visit the meet again on Saturday for events with Swim for Success kids. Party again at the house with the meet officials and some of the other coaches. Interesting conversation about how pool swimmers have anxiety about open water. Problematic to move pool swimmers to a wild venue (we got lakes) for promotion and expansion of swimming sports around Michigan. Vince and Susan force me to agree to visit the Ondrej, Mattej and Jan Pekarovic at their goat ranch on the way back to Saugatuck Sunday. I disappear to edit Vince’s video and blow off packing.

Watch for a flurry of blog and video posts in the next 24 hours. I’ll be in Kalamazoo with Susan and Vince until Sunday morning then heading back to Saugatuck Dunes Natural Area where Hello World is parked.

Day 15

So much blogging and not enough lime, I mean time. I’m in Wallys in downtown Saugatuck with minimal cell coverage. This place is brimming with hotties dressed for luau, a couple were doing a beer bong as I came in. My ALM 2010 standard issue Hawaiian print shirt is like wearing camo in this place.

I’ve secured a perch with power to feed the iPhone and bribed my server into letting me drink club soda. It’s slightly disconcerting to be blogging out flanked by raging sexy drunks.

A bit of a late start today, off the Rosy Mound beach at 11:30 am after busting a batten pocket, tangling the uphaul cables and getting clobbered by the boom while turning to meet a kayaker. I thought it might be Joan’s husband as she had also mentioned Kayaks. I think the magic Dr Suess hat protected me, my face is tender but so far no bruises.

Before the parade of snafus, Joan Wolfe showed up to enthuse about HER 16 foot Hobie Cat Survivor while the golden hound she was walking dug several joint wrenching trenches in front of Hello World’s launch vector. I told Joan to get Survivor flying and join me in Chicago, then amused myself with a little joint wrenching.

An hour and a half later we beached at Holland’s south pier to meet Blake and Dennis from the Holland Sentinel. The illustrious Mike Campbell of Grand Haven had arranged this press contact. I had invited him to help produce and he’s running with it! Here’s the article.

Dave Swan from the Saugatuck Dunes Coastal Alliance had posted on facebook.com/ondesire offering assistance just hours before. This was a connection from artist Marcia Perry who had made the hookup via Facebook sometime in April I think.

Following Dave’s guidance, we swooped to the beach in Saugatuck just north of a sign that read something like “Private Property Here to Pier”, (south). To raise my elevation for better cellphone reception, I followed a path in the dune grass inland and called Dave. No sooner had we started talking than a guy pulled up in an ATV and started hollering at me (it was sort of windy) that I was on private property.

“I’m just trying to get cell reception.” I hollered back. He looked exasperated. I told Dave to hold on and walked over to the guy.

“Your sign says private property south of the sign, I’m north of it. Where does your property end exactly?” I moved a few feet north. “Here?” I jumped a few more. “How about here, is this ok?”

“50 ft more.”

“Well, why didn’t you put your sign 50 feet further down? You’ve gotta admit your signage needs work if you’re this concerned about trespassing.”

“I guess we can’t have enough no trespassing signs so poeple will respect private property.”

“Just make it clear, I’m not trying to cause trouble.” Suddenly realizing that I might like to interview this guy, I introduced myself and told him about the project. He didn’t want to tell me his name!

“We don’t want to be in any movies, we don’t want to talk to anyone. We just want our private property. We don’t let local people come here either.”

Refusing to tell me his name tore it. “Dude, you’ve got to learn to chill out, this is Michigan,” and spun away, back to the boat.

Welcome to Saugatuck.

Climb the bluff carefully for a thrilling view of the big lake and better cell reception.

Nearby construction along the bluff edge reminds me of my reason for sailing around Lake Michigan. Activating global consciousness to steward and EXPAND the wilds.

Wandering about I discover a whacky development project with faux stone and dune grass (?) Head spinning, I borrow stairs back to the beach.

Maybe I’m being judgmental and forgetting essential principle of project – unexpected artifacts. What do the real estate agent and developer have to offer? Interviews?

Take the bike to town, bad reception and depressing juxtaposition of industry and wetlands at nearby park. Forget iphone maps, just ride into town. Synchronistic stumble on the Secretary of State’s office, I forgot to renew my drivers license before launching. Phone rings… date with developer next morning.

Google ‘ludington organic’ and find the Plaza Cafe, interview Tom and then check out Redolencia.

Chad recommends a half press and a couch with power. Blogging and recharge, Chad impromptu set and interview. Meet Lars and head on home, stashing bike in the meadow at top of bluff.

I can’t help but feel as I kick back with my 1/2 french press and cardamom bun ($4.50!) that we truly are on the cusp of realizing sustainable civilizations. Who’d of thought that in downtown Ludington, Michigan there would be coffee shop ambiance to rival – nay – surpass the Tea Lounge in Brooklyn? Redolencia has straight up coffee so fine I can hardly concentrate to write what with the buzz I got on.  Local musician Chad Rushing has already given me multiple mini tours and he’s not even the owner. This place is clearly an incubator for local culture combined with the super friendly Michigan vibe. There are young people here, lots of them.

I just finished my first interview of 2010 with Tom of the Plaza Cafe. It’s spooky how close his story is to Chris and Tanya of Homegrown in Traverse City – it took him 10 years to shift over from conventional restaurant worker to organic evangelist but now – stand back! The Plaza has just started it’s 4th year and it’s Tom’s first business venture. His kids are slinging wraps with him too. One son is going to chef school and his 14 year old daughter can practically run the whole place solo. I had the cream of asparagus soup (organic milk AND cream) and it’s the only soup they serve that’s not gluton free.

I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Let’s jump back a day for some tedious trip details.

Being cozy in a tent when it’s raining is nearly the most romantic situation imaginable, second only to being cozy in a tent when it’s snowing, whether it’s on high altitude pass in Rockies or an illicit encampment in the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore. More often than not I’m alone when these situations are transpiring, more’s the pity. My next search will be for women who camp!

In spite of ideal atmospheric conditions, it wasn’t all that pleasant waking to wet after a fitful sleep and slightly disturbing dreams.

When pitching the tent it seemed like a good idea to first place a waterproof tarp over the wet horsetail and poplar shoots. The rain pitter pattered prettily against the tent all night, then oozed down to the tarp and pooled in the low spots – like under my foam bed roll. I mused on the art of site selection as I broke camp and packed the soggy gear back to the beach.

Just within the tree shadow, a stand of these stalky blooms signify fairie forest. Identification?

At 12:30 pm we pushed off into curling surf and a bit of whipping drizzle. As NOAA robots were whispering about thunder beings in the churning gray above, Hello World and I offered the ritual of jumper cable deployment.

I was disheartened at the prospect of sailing in chilly wind (mid 50s) with no warming sun. I wondered why I hadn’t just stayed home with a book and a hot bath or slumped in a rocking chair with my feet aimed at the cheery glow of a woodstove. Soon enough we were jumping south-ish in the brisk NE blow and I was competent guy, with no time for wussy old man thoughts.

The 210 course turned out to be more like 240. I was intrigued to find the new Silva compass had a frozen bezel. This had happened to another Silva in 2009, a couple of days before it blew up. Turns out the adhesive velcro I had used to mount it to the tiller was the culprit. I didn’t realize the compass bottom articulated. The old compass exploded because the velcro had formed a seal where there shouldn’t have been one.

We dashed past the break waters of Manistee and on to Big Sable Point in one long, strong tack and then turned south. Dedication paid off, a bit of blue opened to the north. Just before Big Sable, the cloud cover began rotating around us, with the southern clouds heading inland and the northern clouds moving out over the lake. Trippy. I took it as an acknowledgement of our sacred quest.

Ahead of Hello World, clouds move inland ...

... in the wake of Hello World, clouds move out over the Big Lake

Approaching Big Sable Point and Ludington State Park	Sun at last	Big Sable Point lighthouse

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Ludington State Park was a potential landing spot, but reconnaissance proved the beaches too crowded for inconspicuous camping. We kissed beach at the remote southern tip of the park but the “no camping” signs were a deterrent.

Riding the north-ish wind we glided past the festive beachfront of Ludington, across the breakwater and on towards rugged bluffs that suggested difficult beach access for the few houses perched above. The wind had been powering up and we surfed it another couple miles right into a secret pirate cove, complete with sparkling springs and a crumbling fortress. 5:00 pm arrival, 30.5 miles in 4.5 hours on the water.

The crumbling citadel near our pirate cove

Day 5 of ALM 2010. It’s raining just north of Onekema tonight. Back from the beach about a stone’s throw, nestled in low dunes is a cozy wozy tent, glowing merrily with candlelight. Inside I’m munching my third bowl of the fresh and raw vegan version of a happy meal – thick oats, goji berries, raisins, flax seeds, almonds and salt marinated in Bear Lake well water. Oowee!

On June 2 an amiable north wind pushed us from Elberta down to Arcadia. Getting Hello World up on the beach was slightly less of a struggle than Elberta had been and I managed it alone. The plan was to rendezvous with the Bear Lake support team for essential modifications, including trips to Traverse City and Crystal Lake. I slept at the team dorm that night and then got a ride back to my house the next day.

I had left the bike and some other gear behind because of the heavy wind at Point Betsie. Minimizing variables helped get us launched. A couple of days feeling the groove was enough to be ready for the full load.

Ideally all this would have been worked out prior to launch, but there are so many details to manage on this project that I’m spread pretty thin. When funds and labor are tight, everything takes more time. Fortunately I’ve got a gang of Kelly’s to whistle up in a pinch – Steve,. Jonathan, Patrick and Luke.

I frittered away much of day 4 helping Stephen Addy debug Wordbooker, his Facebook plugin for WordPress. This may not seem all that relevant to getting underway, but ALM has a decent following on facebook.com/ondesire. Posts from ondesire.com are fed with RSS and get ‘liked’ or commented on. The problem is that Facebook comments never make it back to the blog and so all this awesome interaction isn’t available to the Facebook free. Wordbooker was supposed to save the day. It has all these glowing reviews and I really wish I could write one too, but after screen captures, advanced diagnostics, SQL exports and even a special update just for me… no dice.

Giving up on Wordbooker, I drove the Odyssey over to Shop and Save. Along with some cheese and apples, i grabbed jumper cables to build a lightning deflecting Faraday cage. With a van full of booty, i jaunted down to Arcadia and Hello World to pick up the cargo plates. Thier sharp comers cpuld easily open flesh and like the bailing pins of old, the stainless steel plates might have intriguing potential for an enterprising martial artist. However, sharp corners and sailboats don’t mix generally, so I ground them off in the driveway of the dorm. I crashed in the edit room there after mandatory episodes of Invader Zim.

Signs Signs... Is it really trespassing if you have permission?

Though I got to Arcadia beach at around 8:30 am, we didn’t push off until 3:00 pm, what with all the tinkering and tweaking. We lolled Iin a fitful wind for an hour plus, then caught decent puffs east and north for about 6 miles of overall southern progress. Finding a wildish landing was almost blown when I saw how disturbed the beach sand was with prints, but they turned out to be deer prints. About a hundred yards down the beach a tiny cottage not yet opened for the summer nestled with an 18 foot Hobie in storage. Good omen.

Just missed the deer party North of Portage Lake

100 yards south, the neighbor cottage waits for summer

...and a Hobie 18

Two outhouses?! My kind of folks!

Got Hello World parked in 50 minutes, set up camp and took a wetsuit swim in the Big Lake. Then into the tent for that whole cozy wozy thing.

Baby flies joined me for the sail to Onekema – so cute!

I don’t want to leave the tent. 7:20 am, sore and wishing to sleep more. The waves take a little breath now – big surges with a rest in between. That’s a change from yesterday – constant roll and crash.

Finally pushed off at 5:00 pm from Point Betsie after a tedious couple of hours of preparation. The first moments in the water were a comedy teetering on tragedy as the boat lept into the big wind and ran me over. I slid under the trampoline and just caught the tiller bar as it rushed over me. Imagine a backpack laden catamaran arriving in Wisconsin all by herself… That’s the reality I might have blogged about this morning.

Instead we fought 2 hours to go 2 miles south – in a south wind. Negotiating a inexorable procession of kinesthetic questions, shining choices between staying upright and catastrophe.

Imagine ground that lifted and sank against your feet, endlessly twisting and folding into itself. If every step required tight concentration and presence, would you, could you walk?

On my first day, 2 hours was all I could handle, so the end of the day was a convenience. I slid into e beach and wrestled with Hello World in the sucking surf, eventually stabilizing her with the help of Kari who appeared all smiles and shivers.

She watched my days end ritual and gave me a bagel from Lychaim Deli, to life! Relief in realizing I wasn’t out there anymore. It was a tough start.

Kevin and Brenda built a beach fire and made me stay up until 1:00 am talking! Cool folks and local too, great to meet them and a wonderful way to bring in Wednesday.

Movie: 10-06-01 ALM 2010 Launch (computer, phone)

The illustrious James Barnes gave Hello World a lift over to Point Betsie and that’s where she camped last night. I wanted to copy a few files from the big archive before heading over. It will likely be a short day on the water as we iron out any remaining bugs before getting too far from our home port. Elberta beach is a likely first stop (4 miles) though we may try for Arcadia (15 miles) if all goes well.