The Pleasant Penninsula: Drummond Island

The last day of our northerly vacation coincided with the first day that my parents were going to be in the UP for their annual getaway, so we decided to crash their party on Drummond Island.



It was Mom's idea to go the the Fossil Ledges on the northeast edge of the island. The ledges are precisely what they sound like -- a coastline of layered stone eaten slowly away by Lake Huron. The result of this slow-motion shattering is a series of rocky terraces stretching out into the water, blurring the border between the island and the lake in a truly entrancing way.



Of course, like most places worth going to, the Fossil Ledges are on what we might call the path less traveled. You have to make your way through Maxton Plains, a nature preserve inhabited by a rare combination of plants and animals. If you don't get eaten by any bears, you can continue north-ish on the dirt road, which gets progressively rockier and narrower.



To add to the fun of our trip, recent rain had flooded several parts of the road so that Dad had to guess how deep the water was and where the rocks were. The good news is that the road is basically limestone, not mud, so (as we were reassured several times) "you won't sink." However, that didn't do much to relieve our concerns about flooding the engine, popping a tire, or eviscerating the car on the large, frequently submerged, rocks.







If you ever attempt this drive, we recommend doing so in a high-riding vehicle like a Jeep or a truck. Our research shows that with some ingenious navigating a Pontiac Vibe can successfully make the trip, but as we all know, not everything that can be done should be.



When we got to the final drive leading to the Fossil Ledges -- a drive which is unmarked and easy to miss unless there happen to be other cars parked near it -- we had to abandon the Vibe and go on foot because the rocks were just too imposing to risk their wrath any longer.



Once we finally got to the ledges, we discovered that it was well worth the perilous journey, and we spent quite a while wandering up and down the mile-long stretch of coast, picking through the rocks to find fossils of shells and coral and all manner of creeping little denizens of the waves.



Even despite a little rain, we spent over an hour strolling this uniquely beautiful little stretch of coast, taking photos and hunting for cool fossils and just enjoying the fresh air and the water.







For the most part, the rough drive makes the Fossil Ledges a fairly secluded spot, but Stride did make one new friend while we were out there and few people we passed on the way all stopped to exchange information and advice about navigating the road, in typical friendly Yooper style.




Times are not good in Michigan right now. The economy is rough and a lot of people are struggling, but this trip has reminded me that we still have a lot of incredible things to be proud of. Here's to you, Pleasant Peninsula!

St. Louis City Museum: Recapture Your Childhood for Just $12

I was a scrawny, decidedly unathletic wisp of a child -- all sharp angles and toothpicky limbs. No matter what sport the other kids were playing, my attempts to join in typically ended quickly and unceremoniously with a nose bleed or an asthma attack. Just watching a game of dodgeball gave me bruises.

Despite my somewhat fragile constitution, I eventually discovered that I was reasonably coordinated and found a blissful sanctuary on the playground: the monkey bars.

Twenty years later, I'm still avoiding dodgeball games, but sadly, my friends and I have outgrown the monkey bars...

Until this weekend.




As part of our move from "dating" to "seriously dating," Stretch took me to St. Louis to "watch him run in the St. Louis Marathon" (read: "meet his parents and tour his hometown"). On my little tour, he took me to St. Louis City Museum, which is basically a ginormous indoor/outdoor jungle gym for grown-ups.

Here are some photos, but you really need to see this place to believe it.







Stretch squeezing through a giant slinky to get from one floor to the next. Being skinny and flexible has never been more convenient.



Slides!! Woo hoo!!!



Outside, the giant slinky madness continues as we hover three stories above the ground with only some twisted re-bar keeping us from a grisly death.











Stretch likes the chains in the castle, though it occurs to me that this might be the most dangerous part of the whole ordeal.



Luckily, neither of us fell down this staircase, and we left City Museum feeling fulling twenty years younger.

Mt. Inasa and the Nagasaki A-Bomb Memorial

We started our first day in Nagasaki by taking the bus up to Mt. Inasa. We were assured, when we shelled out the thousands of dollars for this trip, that the view of Nagasaki from Inasa was one of the most breath-taking in Japan. We will just have to take their word for it.




The kids enjoyed a touristy photo op before we hopped on the cable car.



The photo came out well despite the fact that Ryan is approximately twice the height of this particular attraction's target demographic.



We got a fleeting glimpse of the city as the cable car took us deeper and deeper into the mist. By the time we reached the lookout on the top of the mountain, we were surprised to see that the view from Mt. Inasa looked shockingly like the view of Mt. Aso we had had a few days before.



The most thrilling part of our visit to Mt. Inasa actually came as we were hiking back down from the summit to the cable car and RJ spotted the one thing he really came to Japan to see: a dreaded mukade. Now, what you have to keep in mind is that at this point, I had literally been telling mukade stories to some of these kids for three years, so they were basically prepared for the thing to leap up at them, its jaws slung with bloody slather and eyes lit by the fires of Hades' own eternal damned kingdom.



Fortunately, as you can see from the photo (courtesy of RJ), it was not only a rather small mukade but also a decidedly dead one. Whew! Dodged a bullet there!



On our first full day in Nagasaki, we went to the atomic bomb memorial. Unlike the Hiroshima museum, which is a large building in the middle of a wide open space leveled by the bomb, the Nagasaki A-Bomb Museum is built underground. While it contains many of the same type of photographs, mementos, and exhibits that we saw at the Hiroshima museum, the difference in atmosphere between the two was incredible.



While the Hiroshima museum had been silent and virtually empty, the Nagasaki museum and the surrounding gardens were over-flowing with Japanese students of all ages. Inside the museum, many of them were on scavenger hunts, racing from exhibit to exhibit trying to find the information they needed for their assignments. Outside, older students were there with their Peace Studies classes, stopping museum visitors and having them fill out surveys about their reactions to the museum and their thoughts about the atomic bomb specifically and war in general. They were nervous and giggly about using their English to talk to us, but they were also wonderfully friendly and welcoming and I had a great time talking with them and making them laugh with my rubbish Japanese.





Though the outdoor memorial featured plenty of origami cranes and centered on a beautiful pool just as the Hiroshima memorial had, the atmosphere was lively and refreshing, and Nagasaki Peace Park, which includes statues about peace from artists all over the world, is much more extensive than the memorial park in Hiroshima.





Peace Statue, which is the focal point of Nagasaki Peace Park sits on top of an infinity pool. His right hand points up as a reminder of the bomb, but his left hand is extended as a symbol of peace.



A Japanese student plays with the water at the edge of the infinity pool



Peace Statue reflected in the infinity pool -- While the Hiroshima memorial is centered on the idea of remembering the tragedy of the atomic bombing, the Nagasaki memorial is focused on the notion of healing and of promoting peace around the world.

Fukuoka: Or Getting Rained on in Dazaifu Tenmangu

My kids became convenie food junkies. We got them a fix and then headed up to "see" Fukuoka's famous volcano, Aso-San.



I use the term "see" rather liberally here, as it was so foggy that the view left a bit to be desired. We spent a little while in the museum, but the volcano itself was a bust.



Instead, we headed back to town for an early dinner. Along the way, we spotted this classically creepy Japanese advertisement. I never realized that pigs were that into dental hygiene...



The following day, still in the rainy mist, we visited Dazaifu Tenmangu, an enormous shrine in Fukuoka Prefecture.





Luckily, the rain didn't seem to bother the kids or the tour guide, who was the most entertaining and enthusiastic we had had so far.



According to legend, the Dazaifu shrine is built over the grave of Michizane Sugawara, a 10th century Japanese officer who is revered as the embodiment of the god of literature and calligraphy. During his funeral procession, the ox pulling his coffin is said to have stopped at this spot and refused to go any further, so Michizane was buried right here and the ox became the symbol for this shrine.



As at many of the shrines we visited, preparations for the Matsuri, the summer festival, were in full swing, so colorful decorations like this were lying around waiting to be put up.



Another gorgeous hand-washing basin outside the main shrine



In addition to the ox, the plum blossom, the flower of Fukuoka, is an important sacred symbol at this shrine, so wishes here are written on plum-colored paper.



Nearby the shrine is a small Buddhist temple, where we spotted this beautiful zen rock garden. The large stones in the center mark out the Kanjii 光　which means "light."



To duck out of the rain for a while, we went to the Kyushu National Museum.



In Japanese, this says, "There are dragons this way and that way." Or something like that.



On the walk back to the bus, my kids spotted this excellent little pottery shop and bought more tea cups than they will ever need.