Point L: Manistique

Start drive time: 9:44 AM EST
End drive time: 2:29 PM EST
Pit stops: Gaylord, Naubinway, Gould City
Miles driven today: 244
Total miles driven this trip: 3,282 (anyone care to double-check my math?)
Total number of miles past needing an oil change: 282

OH HEY YOU GUYS, WE MADE IT!!! A lot of people were like "There's no way your janky car is going to make it across the country" and "I can't guarantee the suspension rods aren't going to just shoot right up into the body of your car" and "A broken windshield probably won't shatter on you and kill you, but it is going to get worse and you can also get a ticket" BUT JAMES CARVILLE HAS DEMONSTRATED THAT HE IS A SUPERIOR CAR TO ALL OTHER $500 CARS AND IS STILL KICKIN' IT LIKE A G.

Darn tootin' we will. We, like Limp Bizkit and Method Man, are N 2 Gether Now (and Forever More)

Haters, please follow the signs to the left. Mechanics, please follow me to where CARville is currently taking a breather. Give him all the fluids! He's earned them! Bottle service with the finest motor oil in the land!

North of the 45th Parallel is my JAM. We've got snow. We've got trees. We've got so many lakes that there aren't enough names for them in the English language. Neil Gaiman described winter in the Northwoods as "science fiction cold" but I don't even care, yo, because the skies are blue, the sun is shining, and like the proprietor at the gas station in Naubinway said in a heavy Yooper accent, "If you want 75 degrees, move to Florida. Look outside, everywhere you look it's a Christmas card here." Praise Breesus, you are correct, sir.

OH! Where do I even start? It's the U.P.! I'm so excited! I'm so excited! I think I just piddled!

Yup. I definitely peed myself. And not because it's scary to drive across the Mighty Mac. IT'S BECAUSE WE'RE ON THE GATEWAY TO THE UPPER PENINSULA

For my non-UP readership, this post will not be the final word I have to say about the Upper Peninsula. I don't like to make promises that I can't keep, but since CARville is still functional and I have a whole lot of friends and some adorable nieces and nanny-babies in Marquette, I intend to share more about the glory of the UP, so consider this an introduction to the place that I never stop talking about because it's better than all the other places.

So da first stop yer gon'ta wan'ta make in da UP is gon'ta be down to da Mystery Spot in St. Ignace. Now I've never been'ta da Mystery Spot myself, but I heer it is a magical place dat defies all laws uv science and physics and your car moves and eggs stand on der heads and I don' even KNOW what else der is. Anywho, I had some time'ta kill so I mozied on down to da Mystery Spot only to see dis:

Closed?!?! What a complete crockpot full of elk turds.

Naturally, I was disappointed. (Can we all agree that the attempt to capture local dialect was just not working and you were probably just as embarrassed reading it as I was writing it? Ain't nobody got time for that. Cue the return to Standard American English:) NOW I WILL NEVER KNOW THE MYSTERY! And there are more mysteries! Like, why is it closed? Who put that sign up? What kind of gift shop treasures am I missing out on? THERE COULD BE LIFE-CHANGING SOUVENIRS. 

DON'T WORRY, I FOUND SOMEWHERE ELSE TO SHOP JUST DOWN THE ROAD

Can you guys just check out the blue skies in all these pictures? It is balls cold, there's (there are? I still have only a tenuous grasp on grammar at best) four inches of fresh snow on the ground but the sun is shining, there's no wind, and in the words of Edna, the adventurous protagonist of Antoinette Porter's groundbreaking and challenging A Penguin Story observed, the arctic lands are "blue, blue, blue forever."

OKAY. WHERE WERE WE?

Notes on pasties: About 800 million jokes have been made about how outsiders mispronounce the name of the national dish of Yooperland; or rather, one joke has been made ad nauseum. Occasionally, Yoopers make kitschy postcards with pictures of ladies wearing Stormy Kromers on their heads and pastry-wrapped pockets of meat-and-rutabega wholesomeness on their knockers and that's great and all, but pasties are too hot to put your boobs in. That is not responsible advertising. I still have third-degree burn scarring on my areolas. 

Notes on euchre: In spite of the fact that a large majority of Yoopers are proficient euchre players, it is nearly impossible to collect four players at one time in one location. Some theorists believe that the unique magnetic forces at play in the mineral-rich Upper Peninsula prevent the laws of attraction from allowing too many euchre players to gather before geomagnetic fields trigger a repulsion response. This phenomenon can generally be overcome by tricking a non-euchre player into joining (as new players do not carry the same magnetic charge as veterans), although the social pressure necessary to convert a non-euchre player into a fourth typically requires vast quantities of alcohol, incessant pleas, relentless insistence, and frequently, bribery.

Notes on beards: As per Article 7, Section 42.16a of the Constitution of the State of Michigan of 1963, all men residing in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan are "required, with full force of the state backing the mandate, to wear a beard not less than 1 mm in length and not more than 100 mm in length. Mustaches without beards, goatees, muttonchops, and other unapproved facial hair will be considered violations of the law and offenders will be sent to internment camps ("deer camp") during the period of November 15-30 until they have grown the requisite facial hair and can be rehabilitated into society."

Notes on hunting: The opening day of regular firearm deer hunting season (November 15) is a high holy day in the Upper Peninsula. This is not a joke. We don't have to go to school on November 15 because the teachers aren't going to be there. A new superintendent came to our school district my senior year of high school and did mark November 15 as a holiday and there was mutiny in response. Teachers and students alike banded together to break every. single. window. in Manistique Middle and High School and hung the superintendent in effigy from the flag pole, dressed in hunter orange camouflage. The rebellion lasted two weeks and then everyone chilled out and forgot all about it until the following November.

(Author's note: This concludes regular blogging for now. I've got Christmas crafting to finish, hours of reality TV to watch, maybe some more cover letters to write, friends to see, cookies to eat, moms to get drunk with...I'm going to be pretty busy and CARville's going to be taking a break. And let's be honest, he's the star of the blog. No one gives a crockpot full of elk turds about me blogging about watching 12 hours of Teen Mom while knitting, right?Right. It okay.)