The last of the Monarch Butterflies have gone south, the fern underbrush has turned yellow and gas prices have topped $1.30 a gallon. All are sure signs that it is time for us to start south. We decided to bypass KC on our way south. We will be back in KC next spring. By then Genentech's new anti-Ige (read allergy cure) medicine should be available.

We are heading straight to Memphis where you can find us at Corky's BBQ. After haunting Memphis for a few days, we will be heading to New Orleans. I hope to be back on-line soon after we hit Corpus Christi, which should be around the 7th of October.

The last few days here have not been that exciting. The big attractions are the salmon fishing, the wilderness and a Lighthouse tour. The salmon fishing requires a big boat and to appreciate the wilderness requires an immunity to poison ivy. The lighthouse thing requires a different set of bones than I have in my head.

There is a Lighthouse tour that takes you completely around Lake Michigan. More lighthouses than anywhere else. We have been to several of them, and one of our favorite walks here is on the north jetty that has a lighthouse at the end of it. Frequently they are located on the end of a jetty to mark the mouth of a port. Usually, as is the case here, there is a smaller version on a jetty on the opposite side of the channel to the port. Traditionally they are 1000 feet apart so distances could be judged.

Another favorite location for a Lighthouse is on remote and dangerous points, like at the tip of the Leelanau peninsula, just north of Northport. We visited this place and it was special. You have to go to the end of civilization and turn north. When we got there it was an interesting place. It was a lighthouse and home combined. The place was decorated with round stones left over from the last ice age. We went to the museum-gift shop and watched a video. It was a tour of the lighthouse as told by one of the former operators. This guy was doing an impression of Jack Nicholson in his last scene in "One Flew Over the Coocoo's Nest." This is understandable, in that a 30-year career at this place would take the edge off anyone. As we watched this poor sole drone on, I noticed that we were being eaten alive by the flies. They were about the size of houseflies, but they bit like alligators. This poor operator had raised a family at this location, and in the end was replaced by a timer and an electric light bulb. Watching the tape of this man's life at the lighthouse, plus listening to "The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald," would be one of those Kevorkian combinations that I would not recommend.

Back to the flies. Before being entirely consumed by the pests, we decided to leave. On the way out we noticed that the State Park Campground at the lighthouse was full up. You would have thought that the flies would have been filled up with camper flesh, but there were zillions of them. Susie was wearing a romper and I was wearing slacks and I was being attacked through my socks. Susie was actively engaged in fending off the carnivores. I was reminded of the book of Sniglets by Brad Hall, words that do not appear in the dictionary, but should be there. These are words like "alponium" which is the smell you get when you first open a can of dog food, or "Point Blimfark," which identifies the speed at which stagecoach wheels appear to start running backwards. In this instance I was reminded of "arachnidiot." Brad Hall defined it as the spastic gyrations of the hands and arms resulting in a wiping of the face and affected body parts, after walking into a spider web. You have done it; it is an involuntary reflex. People were everywhere making arachnidiots of themselves in an effort to shoo the flies.

We escaped before we were able to tour the lighthouse itself. This is not a problem, as they are pretty much all alike. Round, tapered on the way up, with a death-defying means of access to the top. Inside the business end of one of these thing is a round Fresnel lens and a light source in the middle. Seen one, seen them all. However, I do recognize that it is probably just me who lacks the ability to appreciate the history and unique architecture of these historic structures. I simply lack that particular bone in my head. I hear that fans of lighthouses flock to take the Tour.

The lighthouse tour is closely associated with the Coast Guard stations that are an important part of the history of the area. Apparently, the Great Lakes are not to be trifled with, especially when the, "...witch of November come stealing."(Click for the lyrics to the wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald)

Have you ever had a tune you could not get out of your head? For weeks I have been humming, "The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald." I am having a little trouble humming in that minor key. Take the tour.

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