I've been remiss in my blogging duties over the last six months or so. Many excuses, the most recent being the Coronavirus pandemic. However, I'll use the same catastrophic event as motivation to get back on the blogging horse. I'll take the first step back posting recent events but, as always, I'm traveling a road paved with good intentions to back-fill missing posts that should be part of this ongoing journal. TBD.
"Camp" is the colloquial U.P. name for a summer place on a lake or river. This is usually the time of year that I travel to Chicago, pick up my Dad and drive to the family lake house - aka "Camp"- in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. This year the trip was obviously problematical, and there was a lot of family debate of the wisdom of even attempting it, given I am in a high risk category and Dad is in the highest of high risk categories.
, when our 98 year old WWII vet Dad says he wants to get out of the house and go fishing at Camp, I figure we have to figure out a way to make it happen.
So... I got tested in SF (negative), analyzed COVID-19 per capita infection and death rate trends in SF, Cook, and Marquette Counties, and compiled an arsenal of anti-virus weaponry.
Then, on Memorial Day I ran the air travel gauntlet with a red-eye on a wide body 787 hoping there would be fewer, spread out passengers and United would keep their promise to avoid anyone in center seats and make everyone where masks.
I took all the usual precautions (mask, wipes, sanitizer, strapping my arms to the arm rest so I couldn't touch my face) and landed at O'Hare early morning after the overnight cleaning with fewer people in the airport. My sister Wendy picked me up and dropped off our dog Bowser.
|Bowser is amazed at the low gas prices|
Then into Dad's car and drove 6 hours to Big Shag Lake where I self-quarantined a few days and got tested again (negative).
|Two for Two|
One concern was whether reasonable precautions were being taken by the locals. For the most part, no problem - even Sasquatch was wearing a mask...