The Baseball Trip / Day 8

Friday, July 12

We are heading home west and south (and sometimes the other way around) on every conceivable road that is not marked with a number. Gravel farm roads kicking up dust and stones blacktop with no lines past farmland and flooded fields old rusted tractors and irrigation metal monsters twisted towering over the crops. Five miles an hour because I'm stuck behind War of the Worlds-looking crop sprayers that sit on tires that seem to rise three stories tall. I am fascinated by these machines. I want one:

And this was a small one.

Creepy Church name: All Tribes Missionary Worship

Random observation from Randy:
This is also the trip of bland sausages. Why would anyone pay for bland sausage?

Weird animal encounters: Giant Buzzard in the road picking apart some species of carcass.
Also: Big old hawk trying to fly off with a large piece of deadness, but can't quite lift off. We creep up slowly to him, but he is determined he will not leave it, even at the risk of becoming roadkill himself. I finally just parked the car in the road, right next to him. He kept trying, and almost achieved liftoff a couple of times. He only left it and flew off when I tried to exit the car to get a picture. He sat up in a tree and screamed at us til we left the area.

Favorite town name: Paw Paw, MI

We finally hit Lake Michigan at New Buffalo, famed resort town. Figured we'd have the traditional last day root beer float and mill around the beach.

 No such luck. You have to pay to see the water in New Buffalo. The only part of the town that wasn't lining the beach with lake houses and gated communities was a small marina that charged ten bucks to park. No way.

Random observation from Randy:
We are the 99 per centers.

After that experience, we rolled up 41 into Chicago, onto the South Shore drive and, finally, Lake Shore Drive.We were hoping to make to Randy's place before the Cub game lets out, but it was looking grim. Three separate detours and a drawbridge opening for a barge put our goal in jeopardy.

 Drawbridge up over the canal.

I did manage to get to Wrigleyville during the eight inning, so I dropped off Randy and made my getaway.

Wrigley Field, across the street from Randy's place.

So here's the sum of it:
2200 miles.
Six states and one Canadian province.
Perfect weather and take shelter conditions.
Three major League ballparks and three minor league fields.
BBQ (almost) every day.
The corn is growing taller and the security is growing tighter.
 I don't know which is tougher: getting back into the country from Canada or getting on the beach in New Buffalo.

Final observation from Randy:
It says,'Do your best and let God do the rest.' Okay, then I'm done.