DAY 6 - 7
Chicago, IL to Buchanan, MI
Anyone who knows their geography (or if anyone actually reads this) will realize that Michigan is actually east of Chicago and therefore my grand plan of heading west has gone horribly wrong. But there is some logic to this madness, so bare with me. I wake up several times on Tuesday morning, due to the heat and also to Chris, Jack’s roommate, gathering his luggage and getting ready to head off to Colorado. Jack’s other roommate, Mike, was charged with bringing Chris to O’Hare so they both left before five in the morning. Jack was up at seven and we both left at quarter to eight. I stay in the city for another two hours, drinking coffee, writing and eating a breakfast burrito.
My drive out of Chicago is nothing special; there is some traffic in the immediate vicinity but otherwise the highway moves smoothly. Interstate 94 wraps its way along the southern shore of Lake Michigan through Illinois, Indiana and then shoots up into Michigan. Through Indiana the sky turns grey and starts to rain on the flat, green landscape. Southern Michigan is hillier than I remember it being when I drove with my parents from Detroit to Jackson to see my grandfather several times during my childhood. But the area near the lake rolls and undulates like a Pennsylvania farm and is covered with old barns, corn, cows and soybeans. A barn near US route 12 has completely collapsed in on itself but still remains alongside its twin, this one in perfect condition. We drive past the same two barns a few days later and the one has collapsed even more.
The drive is a little over an hour and a half and when I arrive in Buchanan the clouds have mostly disappeared and it is hot and sunny. My aunt Maureen and her husband Joe live in a beautiful house on four and a half acres that includes a five bedroom home woods, a bog and their own vegetable garden. The house itself is enormous with three full bathrooms, an incredible kitchen, a finished basement with wine cellar, a deck and a sun porch, the latter with an indoor coy pond and hot tub. In their immediate back yard they have over an acre of wetlands. The bog is completely full of wild growth and is filled with a variety of birds, including humming birds, hawks and great blue herons, one of which flies back and forth repeatedly while we are having lunch. There are also deer, coyotes and other smaller cats plus rodents like mice and groundhogs. There is also an assortment of reptiles like snakes and lizards and the usual fish and amphibians as well. At night, when I stand outside looking up at the stars, all I can hear is a deafening call from frogs and crickets and other insects that create a harmony of sounds and vibrations that drown out any other noise. The natural and wild surroundings are very overwhelming but it is great to be so near them in such comfort.
Joe has lunch ready when I arrive and we eat flatbread sandwiches on the deck in the sun. The road by their house is not so busy so the sounds of the bog cover all other man-made noises. After lunch we drive out to a vineyard called the Round Barn to taste some authentic Michigan wine. The area around the lake provides a better climate for certain crops that will not in other places in Michigan like cherries, peaches and grapes. The Round Barn has surprisingly good wine, especially the Chianti and Sauvignon Blanc. They also make vodka from distilled grapes and have their own brewery as well. The seven total samples of wine, vodka and beer have me feeling a little dizzy but we head to a public garden where a designer has place a working model train that runs along a track carved out of logs and runs along bridges crafted out of tree branches. The garden is beautiful but I have to stand in the shade the whole time, afraid that the combination of sun and alcohol will give me heat stroke.
The country roads through Berrien County are winding and hilly and quite pretty. The residential areas have small, modest houses on flat plots of land and most of them are surround by huge fields of golden corn stalks or dark green soy plants. When we return from the garden we have cocktails while Joe makes dinner. The results of his labor is roasted chicken, stuffed zucchini picked that day from his garden, baked potato and salad. We finish two bottles of red wine at dinner and most of the food and hang out and talk while Maureen smokes cigarettes in the dining room.
The next day we get a late start as no one wants to get up before nine thirty and around noon we head for St. Joseph’s which is a small beach town just northwest of Buchanan. The road there follows a massively winding river of the same name and we soon come upon the quintessential beach community of small antique shops and little restaurants. We eat outside in the shade and it is actually cold as the building blocks our exposure to the sun and the breeze from the lake makes it even colder. Afterwards we head for the beach, which is busy and crowded, but we find a thinly populated area and set up camp. The water of the St Joseph’s river, which flows into Lake Michigan, is dark and murky, pulling down soil as it runs past farms that sit on its banks. When it mixes with the clear blue-green fresh water of the lake, the colors stay separate and you can see a trail of silt running southeast with the current. At first we think it is a sandbar in the middle of the water but soon discover it is just the contrasting water sources.
When we get home I hop in the hot tub to ease the pain of a stressful day of lying on the beach. The lake water is freezing and the hot tub, although it is eighty degrees outside, feels great, especially with the jets rumbling. After a dinner of poached haddock and vegetables and lots of wine we watch the movie Elegy with Ben Kingsley and Penelope Cruz. The film is extremely intense and well acted, about a literature professor who falls for one of his students, and the atmosphere borders on tense and suspenseful although it is merely a drama. It is sad and very poetic and I am ultimately left with an uncomfortable, but satisfied, feeling. Afterwards we wander off to bed to try and sleep the alcohol off.
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