Near Duluth

6-22-00
We arrived in the Duluth area in early June. The RV Park we picked is a nice one, Northland Camping, located just south of Superior, Wisconsin. We are about 10 minutes south of Duluth.

The weather here is manic. Last week it got up to 92 degrees and the locals were suffering in the heat. We were fishing and decided it was too hot, so we also quit. About three hours later the temperature started to drop, and ended up dropping 30 degrees in one hour. That night it got down to 32 degrees. It has been getting to around 60 degrees for an afternoon high, with the lows generally in the 40s. It has rained a lot, but after spending the last two winters in Corpus Christi, it is a novelty. Since it is cutting in on our fishing, the novelty is beginning to wear off.

By the time we got to Minnesota, we noticed that people were starting to sound a little different. This was not as noticeable in Michigan last year. Two words that are frequently used are "house" and "out." Not all, but many pronounce house as if it rhymed with moose, and out as if it rhymed with hoot. "I have to go oot of the hoose." I can only imagine what we sound like to these people.

The gasoline prices here are interesting. On the Wisconsin side, unleaded is $1.91 and only $1.75 on the Minnesota side. We were told that Wisconsin, in a well intentioned move to save the mom and pop gas station, enacted legislation to set the minimum markup on a gallon of gasoline to $.07. The legislation also included a percentage of the wholesale cost, say 15%, or whichever is greater, for that minimum markup. This appears to have bitten the mom and pop stations in the butt, as they are all gone, just the bigger chains exist here in Superior. Since they are only used to sell milk and beer, the chains have not spent much to keep them up to date. Picture Andy driving the squad car up to Wally's filling station. Out would pop a dim-witted, slack jawed baritone. The difference here is that they do not pop out and they may not be baritones.

We noticed that the fire hydrants all have colored antennas sticking five or six feet out of the top of them. We realized that, after a five feet of snow, this would be the only way to locate one of these things. Hydrants are likely a natural enemy of the snowplow. Imagine yourself plowing away at 30 MPH, snow flying, and you hit a hydrant. It's time to hang up the phone and pick up your teeth. Speaking of no teeth, this is not the place to talk bad about ice hockey, or those that play the game. Last week, while the walleyes were biting well, all of the locals packed up their gear and left the pier. Turns out they would rather watch the Stanley Cup than catch fish.

I've added a new feature to my journal updates. I usually get some interesting feedback via e-mail. I thought it would be interesting to have a vehicle where other people could read feedback from others. Just fill out the form and hit the send button. IE will require you to click on a button that says that the information is being sent by e-mail. As soon as my busy schedule permits, I will take your feedback and add it to the page in the blue field that follows.

Feedback

From: Bud Ackley Page:
Now you're talkin' bout my relatives. We were up in central Mn near the end of June and actually caught fish in a old small heavily residential lake. We also ate well, two different ways. We ate a fine walleye meal in a nice restaurant on the edge of a big lake, and had top-drawer fishburgers in a county-subsidized dive with no front door and a bathroom you just didn't go into but once. Ahhhh, home.

From: Sandy Howell
Steve and Susie: Glad to hear from you and that you have landed in Wisconsin safely. If the walleye quit biting, you can always head south to Bull Shoals Lake where the walleye are plentiful, the weather is not quite as manic, and your Midwestern twang will fit in nicely. Gas station attendants may not be much different, though, and Branson doesn't do hockey. Anxious to see some photos of your new RV park and surroundings. Take care and keep in touch.

From: John Wilson
In my travels through Minnesota I noticed that everyone sounds the same. It so happened that a pilot in our Kansas Guard unit was a native of Minnesota and thus sounded just like the rest of the Minnesotans. It so happened that most of us knew that pilot, Jimmy Nelson, before we had been to Minnesota. Consequently, whenever our unit was in Minnesota (often since Ft. Ripley is a National Guard post) the locals were referred to as "Nelsons" since their voice couldn't be distinguished from the real Nelson. This always became interesting when "on the air" talking to tower operators. We would call the tower and request clearance to the airport (It didn't make any difference if it had to be Minneapolis International). The tower operator would come back with the clearance and of course sound just like Nelson. The response: "Hey Jimmy is that you?"
The tower operator: "What?"
Us: "Jimmy, whatta you doin' in the tower?"
Tower: "Whatta you talking about" etc, etc.
Its no wonder Army pilots were always considered a little strange.

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