A note concerning tangents: (III)

Current Location: Frankenmuth (http://www.frankenmuth.org/), MI, pop. approx. 4500
(N43°19.143', W083°44.130', Elev: 647')
Distance Traveled on Leg 3: 262.3 miles
Total Distance Traveled: 1024.9
Expedition Outlook: Incredulous

Our expedition's current point of harbor has left us stuttering and breathless. But I get ahead of myself, we'll get to Frankenmuth soon enough. I have observed that we are no better than our lesser primate cousins if we fail to use the tools that are our greatest hallmark. Despite having access to at least 5 different alarms, we availed ourselves of none of them and the expedition got to a later start than intended. Ultimately this had little impact on our agenda, and I believe that the extra rest did us some good. While I unshackled and prepared Corona, Edison and Hannibal scouted for Batlabian riders. The coast, for the moment, was clear. The same could not be said of the sky, which was overcast. A good day, we felt, considering the current animosity betwixt Edison and the sun. It would seem that my companion's demeanor was too gentle for Apollo's passionate caresses and he awoke with arms, shoulders, and neck an inflamed ruin from their fiery affair. He managed to avoid Helios's advances by demurely covering what he so brazenly flaunted the day before. My Iberian Heat has thus far proven to be a match to Sol's nuclear radiance, as I have only received a challenging stare and begrudgingly respectful nod.

You may wonder about the relevance of the digression, but it was an important consideration for the expedition as we planned on spending the day out of doors. Our first stop, the Schedel Arboretum and Gardens in Elmore. The grounds were well kept, the staff friendly, and the scenery gorgeous in every aspect of the term.  A wide variety of plant life was kept and we spent the better part of two hours exploring and taking in the sights and smells. The gardens were also abundant with statuary as well as teeming with fauna. Of particular note were the Japanese style gardens, the impressive ponds and streams, and the rose garden. The arboretum would prove to be the tamest part of our day.

Upon returning to Corona we consulted both Eloise and our Paper Bound Oracle (for purported guide books they have all of the reliability of a Magic 8 ball when it comes to trying to locate something one swears he saw just the other day somewhere near the entry for "Euclid" [home of the National Cleveland Style Polka Hall of Fame]) and after some deliberation, not to mention repeatedly refusing to furnish Hannibal with a chicken so he could conduct a soothsaying, we decided to pursue our original plan and visit Kelley's Island. Our 8-Ball Oracle noted two ferry ports but failed to mention that the closer port at Port Clinton did not go directly, instead stopping at Put-In Bay (Although some truth has been harmed in the making of these broadcasts, I am not making that location up) where you could then take another ferry. After a brief talk about the possibilities of Put-In Bay and the cave system (of course) that was available for exploration, we stayed the course and jaunted over to Marblehead where after some confusion as to whether or not we could take our car we finally boated over to Kelley's Island (as it turns out the major means of conveyance on the island is golf cart, which we could have rented, although in retrospect it was just as nice to bring Corona along).

While not what we expected, the island turned out to be worthwhile for different reasons. The ferry ride out was delightful. The island itself is the largest of the Lake Erie islands, measuring in at about 3 miles by 5 and is circumscribed by laconic beaches and limestone bluffs. The eastern side of the island seemed to be  more ramshackle than the western half and downtown regions. We believe this to be because of the Zombie Farm hidden in the deep hedges and covering trees. Nothing quite lowers property values like zombies. The northern section is comprised largely of the Kelley's Island State Park and the VFW hall. The park was our main reason for wanting to visit and, somewhat ironically, we never actually set foot inside of it. The 8-Ball Oracle made it out to be a glacially massacred limestone field full of fossils, when in fact it appeared to be mostly footpaths and an old quarry. The main attraction, the glacial grooves (which did contain fossils), were neatly set off by themselves and ringed by a very municipal (in a penitentiary sort of way) chain link fence. Despite our inability to assay them, they were quite spectacular and worth the visit.

We took our lunch at a tavern (I had a delectable fried Erie Lake Perch sandwich) and befriended some of the locals. Cassanova Hannibal has a very different definition of 'befriend' than the rest of the expedition, but I save my commentary about that for later. We asked for advice while we were deliberating our next course, and it would appear that Michigan has very little going for it in the minds of staff of . To quote the chef "You could visit Detroit if you were interested in seeing the decline of civilization." (he is seriously not making this up. -ed.) Despite that ringing endorsement, we needed to press on into the Great Lakes State if we were to reach Huron. After a brief walk around downtown we returned to the mainland, garnered supplies and after significant deliberation chose a destination: Bay City, MI.

I will digress briefly to touch upon member news: At present, Edison glows in the dark. I believe his proclivity for wearing hats is the only thing that has protected his brain meats from boiling. Thus far nothing seems to have moved beyond acceptable margins, but he has begun to exhibit and unhealthy interest in nuclear power plants. If I awake one morning to find the Toxic Avenger has replaced my traveling companion I am uncertain what course I shall take. Fortunately, I do not think we will find Tromaville on any map.

Eloise was on better behavior for the better part of the day, although as evening came and went she decided to see how far she could push after we had been beset by fatigue.

And then there is Hannibal. He has taken to riding around in the Excursion bag, where he ogles, leers, and inappropriately grasps at the female form when he thinks no one is looking. He boasts an impressive polker face, however, and combined with his practiced mien of innocence most folks cannot perceive his true nature. Hannibal is ill equipped to deal with mornings (defined as any time before 3PM) and we were able to placate him by engaging his groggily vulnerable sophomoric nature by setting him loose on the statuary within the Schnedel gardens. As the day wore on and he regained his faculties he set forth on a carousing campaign that ensnared a mother and daughter on the ferry ride out to Kelley's Island as well as the bartender on said island but a few hours later. I refused to let him out of Corona for the return ferry trip. Thus far we have encountered no friction, but I am already preparing for the day where we might need to fend off a jealous lover, angry husband, or jilted paramour.

Returning my focus to the trip: The drive to MI was largely uneventful, despite Eloise's best attempts at sowing confusion and discord during a fuel stop. Due to time constraints we missed out on the visiting Bessie's (Lake Erie's very own loch ness monster) highway side kennel, a smoked meat and cheese emporium, and Unlimited Beef Jerky ("Not a gas station!" proclaimed the angry looking bull on the billboard) En route, upon a whim, Navigator Edison discovered a secret achievement and re-charted our course to the conveniently located Frankenmuth. Frankenmuth is... all I will say for now is that the town has ceased to be a stop over and has become a full fledged destination. Have no fear, you will receive an accounting in tomorrow's log, but the hour grows late, so I will briefly turn the con over to Edison before closing out this evening's transmission:

[Notes from Edison:
The Gardens were awesome. Great area, great staff (hard at work), and basically no other customers. Idyllic. Kelley's Island, also awesome, if you could ignore the rotting smell of old corpses and the shambling in the woods. I recited some lines from the necronomicon (good for what ails ya!) and we were fine.
What the sun-resistant bastard over there fails to mention is that we also passed a number of creepy movement-challenged big people along the way. And i'm not talking about the fatty contingent oozing around on their lawn mowers, but rather the tall and stilted folk with the fixed smiles and misshapen limbs, reaching for you from the side of the road like a dry bougainvillea twists stealthily towards the nearby lake. We saw them really big and merely enormous, humanoid and animorphic, mostly complete and crazily missing hands. They were a constant companion to our travels, a looming presence at our back, causing the shoulderblades to itch constantly, as if we had performed our impressionistic modern dance interpretation of childbirth in a poison ivy patch. They watched us with big, sad, and sometimes wildly gleaming eyes everywhere we went.
I believe they are in league with the Batlabians.
However, I have hope, for did not the oracle speak these words in a fit: "Hit me with your best shot! C'mon and hit me with your best shot... Hit me with your best shot! Fire Awaaaaaaay!"
We would all do well to live up to that sentiment.
For now; Arrive derci, bon voyage.]

I apologize for the lack of photography, dear viewers, but the internet here at the Frankenmuth Motel (not as scary as it sounds) is as elusive and whimsical as the focus of a well traveled hippie, and as a result it is a losing battle to attempt to upload the photos from Jameson to the log. I will seek a more grounded hot spot on the morrow and retroactively update the broadcast for your pleasure and edification. In the meantime, I wish you all well. Thank you, America, and good night. This is the Nickness, signing off;

Thank you for tuning in! On our next episode: Der Boom Boom Haus, Yes We Really Travelled All This Way For That Reason Alone, Si Quaeris Peninsulam Amoenam Circumspice, Indiana: As Cool As The Archaeologist For Which It Was Named?