Michigan Lakes

Just home from a 10-day stint on two of the most beautiful lakes in all of Michigan: Crystal Lake and the namesake beauty itself, Lake Michigan. Having grown up in Ohio, I certainly enjoyed my summers on Lake Erie, but it wasn't until I traveled north in middle school, to Torch Lake and Lake Michigan near Traverse City, that I really realized how amazing a Midwestern lake could be. The best ones are as blue as the ocean out deep, turquoise and crystal clear as the South Pacific near the shoreline. 

This first shot is of the beach in Frankfort, Michigan, just as the sun was setting on the Fourth of July before a fantastic fireworks display that has easily become one of the best I've ever seen: no cheesy pseudo-patriotic music, no vast distance between crowd and action. The fireworks in Frankfort blast from the pier just a hundred yards from a white sandy beach packed with 5,000 people. And this year, the grand finale upped the ante and simply floored anybody who was paying any kind of attention.

The second shot is of gorgeous Crystal Lake from a coveted vista from my mother-in-law's cottage. The view easily leaves deck splinters in your jaw . . .

The View from Kauai

Just a few shots from a wonderful escape to Kauai, not only for a dear friend's wedding, but also for a rejuvenation of the soul. What a place...

The Napali Coast along the first two miles of the Kalalau Trail. 

Tunnels Beach on the north shore of Kauai.

A spinner dolphin during a cruise up the Napali Coast that included flying fish, green sea turtles, and loads of breaching humpback whales.

The Super Bowl at Silver Falls

Cabin number 6 at Silver Falls State Park

To me, there's always something refreshing, renewing and invigorating about even the smallest getaways that's simply good for the soul. It's especially so when getting outside and experiencing something nice and new.

After a few weeks of too much rain, too much time at home and too much of the same old same old, we booked a small cabin at Silver Falls State Park near Silverton to just get away. We've headed there before to tread the Trail of Ten Waterfalls, but it's been years. Too many, as it turns out.

Despite some sun breaks on Sunday and visions of kicking the soccer ball around with Madeline at Silver Falls, the park itself was essentially buried under at least a foot of snow. The roads were plowed of course, and our cabin was warm and lit, waiting for us, when we pulled up. But the trailheads were snowed under, the viewpoint turnouts buried, and snowballs much more at home than any soccer ball.

But the snow made it festive — and new for Madeline — and just outside our cabin, Silver Creek shushed by under massive Douglas Firs and hemlocks. The cabin was small but charming, with a front porch for cooking, a front living room and a back bedroom with bunk beds and a double bed. Throw in a microwave, a fridge, some speakers for the iPod, a little wine, and the Super Bowl on the radio, and we were set. 

Even though I'm not a huge football fan anymore — once a diehard Browns fan, I swore off the NFL when they moved the Browns out of Cleveland back in '95 or '96— I still appreciate a good game and the spectacle that is the Super Bowl. Mind you, it's not enough to keep me in town; past Super Bowl Sundays have found me climbing Mt. McLouglin or camping on the Oregon Coast. 

But we'd listened to the first half of Sunday's game on the way down to the park, and I checked the score again on the car radio with about four minutes to go. The circumstances of the contest were too much to resist, so we all — including our black lab, Oliver — huddled in the car to catch the last and most tense minutes of the game. When it was over, I had the satisfaction of knowing how the game had gone without any of the letdown and emptiness that almost always accompanies Super Bowl games and the commercials and the halftime shows and on and on. Plus, I was able to step back out into the snow, gaze up into a momentarily star-filled sky, and let the sounds of the great outdoors fill my ears. 

We did manage a few short snowy hikes to Upper North Falls and North Falls on Monday morning. The snow and rain mix didn't exactly thrill Madeline, and I think Oliver was bummed that he wasn't allowed on the trails, but we had gotten out and away, experienced something new, and refreshed ourselves just enough. Until next time . . .

Some late-night visitors outside the cabin. 

An Ohio Wedding

Jeff and Kristen, November 3, 2007.

And so, my very best friend — the guy I've known for nearly 30 years, the guy I met during an apple fight on a fall Ohio day so many years ago, the guy who got the left side while I took the right, the guy who is always right where I think he'll be — has gotten married and found happiness. 'Tis a beautiful thing to see someone so near and dear find someone who makes him shine as he should.

We flew back to Ohio on Halloween, spent two nights in Mansfield with my family and then headed down to Columbus to meet up with my aforementioned friend, Jeff Castle, and his bride-to-be, Kristen. What a beautiful weekend for a wedding. If you're not familiar with the Midwest in autumn, then you've never seen true fall colors. The hillsides of Central Ohio were veritable palettes of orange and yellow as far as the eyes could go; maples and oaks, beech and birches were alight with the brightness that peaks just before the gray of winter settles in.

Not only was it a great weekend for a wedding, but a great one for reunions as well. Almost all my other best friends from home — Scott Redman and his wife, Bernie, Tom Zellner, and Zach Proffitt and his wife, Regina — converged for the celebration, as did some old familar faces, Kevin and Sarah Moore, Jeff's brother Chris, his mom and stepdad, and his cousin, Mike.

The reception at the Smith Brothers warehouse near downtown Columbus.

What more to say? The rehearsal was a festive evening of food, great beers and family exchanges at Barley's and then a few more brews at the Grandview Cafe. The wedding day was gorgeous, the ceremony short but sweet — and thank God the Buckeyes were victorious that weekend or who knows what the mood might have been. (That town's obsession with Ohio State is borderline neurotic.) And that night, the reception at the Smith Brothers Warehouse near Short North, with its downtown skyline backdrop, was as fun as they come. Rock and Roll All Nite.

And just like that, the wedding was over and my best friend was on his way into a new and better life. It's long overdue, and we all wish him only the very best, always.