What better way to celebrate Corey’s birthday than with bikes, trains and family. Despite several cocktails the night before, we managed to make the 7 AM train into the city. We then biked the eerily quiet Loop and then dragged our bikes down a flight of stairs and into the Millennium Station. We got onto the South Shore Line train before its scheduled departure of 8:30 to…..wait over an hour while they sorted some sort of electrical issue. Having local news legend Andy Shaw on our car did make the wait a little better. And I am so grateful for him answering my many, many questions about the news business. But the long wait still sucked.

In Hegewish the train picked up Tim and Linnea (also local legends) before dropping us off in Michigan City. The four of us then traveled the mile or so to Bruce and Audra’s condo. Ray and Laura were waiting which meant that all three sisters plus three brother-in-laws were there to celebrate Corey’s birthday.

We rode on the Calumet Trail toward the Dunes before detouring into the swank coastal enclave of Beverly Shores. We saw several wild turkeys and also a few colorful birds that none of us could identify. And then we had a great lunch at Shoreline Brewery (thanks again Bruce!) before taking the trains home in reverse order from the morning trek. As good as the trail and lunch were, however, I know Corey enjoyed the company more. So to my South-Side Swedish family I say “tack!”

With just a small bit of a plan we took our bikes on the train to Crystal Lake. From there we made our way to the Fox River Trail which eventually led us to Geneva. Then to get home from Geneva we took a train into the city and then another back to Edison Park. In-between Crystal Lake and home we had a yummy breakfast burrito and coffee (Crystal Lake Junction where the friendly owner and son carry a heavy English accent) and a great lunch and beer at Alter Brewing. We also rode through a protest with thumbs up and cheers in Elgin (Resist! Our Democracy is worth saving) and met a few interesting folks along the way. Like the young man who bragged to us about scoring free guacamole by lying about his birthday at Chipotle. I told him I was the CEO of Chipotle and was not amused. He backed away, like seriously worried he was going to be in trouble then nervously laughed when I told him that I was not in fact the CEO of Chipotle. There was also an older volunteer at the Geneva train platform who repeatedly snapped at a delayed teenager who kept trying to steal his spotlight. We also saw Cub fans in Crystal Lake lined up to take the train into the city. Then on our last train of the day there were fans exhausted after a long day at the park. It was actually a theme; on trains headed into the city there was a tangible sense of excitement. And then a much more muted return trip with everyone looking hungover and tired.

After four nights camping in Death Valley and Valley of Fire State Park we spent some time on the Strip. Vegas, or at least the Vegas Strip, is just plain weird. Also loud. And everywhere all at once. Might not be our favorite place but we did enjoy taking in a couple of shows and catching some sun by the pool. I even won a little money playing Blackjack. Vegas Baby!

Slot canyons have always been our favorite kind of slot. Maybe that’s why we loved Valley of Fire State Park which is an enchanting world of red rock, petroglyphs, big horn sheep and stunning vistas. And despite its proximity to Las Vegas, it boasts a night sky only slightly less impressive than the one found in Death Valley. Just $15 for a day pass and another $10 for the campsite. That’s an even better deal than a Vegas buffet.

At night heat pockets ripple the cool air the same way they do in a swimming pool. Our walk-in campsite at Furnace Creek (almost 200 feet below sea level) though cooled off nicely due to the low lying vegetation surrounding our tent. The late March day time temps almost reached a hundred with not one darn cloud in the sky. In summer this place sometimes goes weeks without dropping below a hundred.

You can feel the relief once the sun drops below the snowcapped mountains ringing the valley. Your skin breaths. In the campground people light fires despite the air temp still hovering in the mid-eighties. Birds and other animals begin to stir while the stars begin their show; hundreds of points alights against a milky white blur.

It’s all under attack. Light pollution from L.A. threatens the dark sky. Climate change is wrecking havoc on the park’s infrastructure as one in every five thousand year floods occur almost every year. Roads to popular attractions such as Scotty’s Castle have been closed for years. Even many of the 4×4 only/high clearance roads are inoperable leaving places like Darwin’s Falls accessible only by hiking a wrecked two mile road. Making things worse are the pointless cuts recently made by Trump, Vance and Musk. This cruel triad has slashed the budget for every National Park. At Death Valley it means six rangers lost their jobs for no damn good reason. There now are less campfire talks, less front country services and less resources for search and rescue (this in a park where every summer people die of heat stroke). People will die from their ignorance. Death Valley though will survive. Maybe not as it is. But it will far out last us.

Before sitting next to me the woman wiped everything down with a Clorox wipe. Her seat, the armrest, the folding down tray/ “Private Screening” (so just a tray) and, for good measure, her seatbelt buckle. She then looked me over for a few moments before deciding I wasn’t worth the wipe.

Our day started before 5 AM and included some minor drama related to our Jet Boil. Is it a stove (which is only sort of allowed on a flight) or is it a French Press. Not to get all existential on you, but does function trump form, or is Trump just an asshole? This question stumped the bag check who eventually decided it could fly with me, but only as a carry on. And then later I had to check that bag at the gate.

At the airport we also had an almost edible breakfast that consisted of barely thawed out plant based sandwiches washed down by very small cups of coffee. Also entertaining was  watching an impromptu game show brought upon by the flight being oversold. It was like a reverse auction with the people at the gate every few minutes upping their payout. They needed two volunteers. The first to volunteer settled for a  measly few hundred dollars toward a future flight. It wasn’t until about thirty minutes before boarding that the offers got serious. A lucky winner ended up walking away with a first class ticket for an early evening flight plus a $1500 travel voucher. Well played my man. Well played.

Bit by bit after the flight we begin to feel ourselves. Lunch, coffee, a quick stop at REI and then we checked into our hotel in Parhump and had a quick nap. Afterwards we wandered about  the carnival in town and had an amazing dinner at Mom’s Diner where the chicken fried steak was followed by pie a la mode. Sweetest day we have had in a long time.

Corey and I bolted off the train so fast we almost didn’t get a chance to say good bye. We were four; Corey and I plus two ladies set to see their loved ones in Ann Arbor. We don’t always make friends on the train but sometimes we do and it really makes it, the delays, the lousy food, someone’s iPad playing a cartoon too loud, almost worth it. But then in Battle Creek the train stopped and didn’t start again. Amtrak provided four busses to finish the journey but only one was direct to Detroit. So we said a quick goodbye then trudged off into the cold night not sure of what to expect.

Sometimes Corey and I play a game called “Who Else Would Think This Is Fun?” We played this game while walking a mile through deep snow down Michigan Avenue. Feet never felt so cold. We would have played it on the bus but the game isn’t as much fun to play when you’re not having that great a time either. 

It might not always be the best of times but the only thing I love more than traveling with Corey is Corey herself.

We were walking towards Third Man Records from the Detroit Institute of Arts (must see, one of the great art museums) when we stopped for coffee inside a Wayne State building. Turns out it was their auditorium. And there were dozens of high school kids and parents and adults all milling around. A little coffee, a few questions and we spent the next forty-five minutes watching a small high school production of some bizarre absurdist tale. It was actually a lot of fun. The kind of fun though that you had to be there to understand. And that’s how we roll.

A pleasant stroll along the lake led us to the Lagoon Cafe. A small, one man operation running out of a small field house like building just south of Northwestern, the place is all about location. To the east lie the retreating glaciers, an impressive mess of upturned ice fated to be yet another victim of global warming. Looking north is the University and immediately to the south a frozen lagoon that makes for a perfect skating rink. You could sip your cappuccino inside but with the sun shining and the wind still it’s hard to understand why.

Less than a week after Trump swept all seven of the swing states and I feel …not great. But beginning to feel whole. Also grateful. For friends and family. And America; which I will hold tight no matter what threatens to tear it apart.

So we regrouped a bit in Oak Park with like minded friends. And then headed to George’s Family House (there just are not enough diners in the world like this one) before checking into The Coffee Shop next door where time just kind of stopped. Sometimes the wind outside would pick up and the door would open just a bit before slamming shut. We wanted a Jetsons type future  but instead ended up in a Blade Runner kind of world. It all is a bit hard to digest. Honestly might need something a bit stronger than coffee.