What's good for General Motors?

Sault Ste Marie, Michigan

In 1953, under intense questioning from American Senators, Charlie Wilson declared, 'What's good for General Motors is good for the country'. Charlie was the former head of GM and the current Secretary of Defence under Eisenhower. GM stock has always been considered a bellwether. It goes up or down before the rest of the market. Today, GM shares dropped below $10 per share for the first time since 1954.

We're on the Ste Mary River just east of the Soo Locks in Sault Ste Marie (Sue Saint Marie). Sault is an archaic French word from the 17th Century, meaning rapids. The locks move the big iron ore haulers up or down 22 feet between Lake Superior and Lake Huron. You get a sense of the strategic importance of the locks when watching the river traffic. In 1942, there was concern that the locks could be bombed from Norway. A number of radar stations and anti-aircraft facilities were established in Ontario to protect them.

There is a busy ground hog close to where were are parked, and a flock of Canadian geese float by occasionally. We spend an hour at the locks, watching a 763 foot empty ore hauler get lifted up to Lake Superior.

In the downtown, we find a small winery. They are making wine in five gallon jugs. Their wines aren't bad. They go for $10 - $25 a bottle. I estimate that's a 400% to 1,000% mark-up on cost. It might be my next adventure. I always thought you had to grow grapes to have a winery.

Snowshoe Camp

Thessalon, Ontario

On July 4th, we're camped on the north shore of Lake Huron in the Thessalon Municipal RV Park. The municipal tennis court behind city hall is paved with a strange rocky composition, apparently left over from a road project. The balls take on a strange spin when they hit the gravel.

We do some light maintenance, replacing a tail light and several other light bulbs. We're roaming here so we turn off the cell phones and use the laptop air card sparingly.

If you drive north from Thessalon on route 129, about 40 kilometres, you come to Wakomata Lake Road which leads to Camp Snowshoe. The camp, five kilometres down the road on a big isolated lake, rents cabins, boats, ATVs and snowmobiles. It stays open all year for ice fishing and snowmobiling.

The people in this area of Canada seem very friendly. We ask about renting a canoe and the owners tell us that they only rent to guests, so they offer us the use of one of their canoes at no charge.

If you want to get away from things any time of year on a lovely Canadian Lake, I can highly recommend Snowshoe Camp. They're nice people.

Vance's Marina

Spanish, Ontario

The satellite tuner got wet again and shorts out. My database of altitude and azimuth observations has gotten big enough that I can easily find the satellite now without it, by getting the latitude and longitude off one of the GPS devices. Mrs Phred watches the Wimbledon finals.

We rent a boat on Sunday and go fishing for Wall-eye. I troll slowly with a spoon lure. There are no hits, but we enjoy the scenery anyway.

Gene and Marilyn are from Cincinnati. They spend four months a year here. They're both 75 this year. Gene explains that the wall-eye ate all the food in the channel and left Saturday for parts unknown. He says they'll be back in September. Gene gives us six wall-eye fillets. Gene seems quite knowledgeable about wall-eye. He shows me the jigs he likes to use.

It's about 300 miles to Ottawa. Mrs Phred wants to spend two full days there and then arrive in Burlington, Vermont, on Friday to spend the weekend with our old friend Judy, so we'll have to leave this morning to meet her schedule.

Canada's Capital City

Ottawa, Ontario

The City of Ottawa has about 850,000 people. They have a good bus system and park-and-ride parking lots that shuttle you downtown for $3 Canadian. We took the bus and went to see the changing of the guard, Parliament hill, and the market section. We also went to the National Art Museum.

We drove around to view some quaint little Ontario towns: Westport, Merrickville and Perth. We had coffee and pastries in Perth.

My impression of Ontario is that the speed limits are set very low and generally universally disregarded by the population; driving the speed limit results in a succession of people attempting to drive up one's tailpipe. Driving 10% over the speed limit doesn't help much.

A developer in Edmonton has come up with a poker playing program that wins against championship players. It's version 2.0, at least, and learns by watching its opponent's behavior. This is quite an advance in artificial intelligence. It deals with a game of imperfect information, unlike the relatively simple chess playing programs, where everything is known. This development marks the beginning of the end of human poker players, at least the on-line variety. There are many skills that have been obsoleted by developing technology. Once I was a great navigator, but now that's a skill you can't give away. The computers are insufferably superior to humans at navigation.

Mike the Firefighter

Vergennes, Vermont

We're parked on a lovely Vermont Island in the middle of Lake Champlain. Our old friend, Judy, suggests going to the French Heritage Festival in the little town of Vergennes. I look at the activities list and see a fire house breakfast.

The breakfast is French toast, bacon, sausage, coffee and orange juice. They have fresh strawberries, blueberries and maple syrup for the French toast. I look at some of the trophies and fire house mementos, and fire-fighter Mike Collette comes over to talk and explain the history of the town fire department.

Mike has been a volunteer fire-fighter since 1961. Mike tells me that the houses and businesses were originally required to keep two leather buckets and a ladder on hand. All structures were inspected for fire hazards on a monthly basis and $2 fines were levied for failure to correct defects. He found an old fire pump in a corner of the fire house. It was built in 1853. Mike took it home and rebuilt it with new leather gaskets. It will spray water 100 feet with two men on the pump handle. You fill it with water from leather buckets.

It's a beautiful little Vermont town. The town square park is filled with people dressed up as French dandies, soldiers and Algonquin Indians. They also have antique cars, tractors, blacksmiths and tarot card readers. They are weaving animal hair, making lace, and showing how the French lived here 200 to 400 years ago.

I read a book laying in the grass of the park for most of the day and listen to French singers and the first person accounts of old French explorers. They fire off 'matchlock' muskets periodically and produce huge clouds of smoke. I talk to an old French Marine from the revolutionary war. He tells me that he is an ensign and one of 2,200 French Marines who fought on the rebel side in Yorktown. He says that there were more French there than rebels. He asserts that without French financing, I would still be a British citizen.

The town hall of Vergennes doubles as an opera hall. They have a series of French singers and cloggers that perform throughout the day and evening. All the business have posted signs in French on their windows. The signs say things like Bonjour (hello).

I find the library and buy a pile of surplus books. It's an impressive structure with a huge glass dome. They have lectures during the day. One was 'They walked with Champlain'. The second floor is full of antiques and Indian artefacts. The town has a waterfall and is full of lovely old homes. I could live here.

The breaded and pan-fried Wall-eye fillets were delicious. The customs people wanted to know if the heads had been removed when we came back over the border.

First in the Nation

Dixville Notch, New Hampshire

We've been camping for three nights in the White Mountains. It's cool in the mornings and evenings. You can understand why people like to vacation here in the summer. When the leaves change color in the fall it's a spectacular place.

There's a place here called Dixville Notch. During every election the 20 or so registered voters gather at midnight and cast their votes. By a few minutes after midnight the polls close and the results are announced around the nation as election news.

The results are always heavily tilted. This is the most 'red' of all states. You see results like 'Reagan 17...Carter 3'. We drive up to the notch, expecting a quaint little town. We are surprised to find a very posh resort with pools, clay tennis courts and a fabulous golf course. We don't know it yet, but Obama will take Dixville Notch in a landslide in November...

The doorman invites us to go take pictures of the 'ballot room' in the hotel and suggests lunch up on the mountain at the golf club. Many famous people show up here on election day. My own guy, Ralph Nader, has been here. Both Bush I and Bush II visited the room on election day.

We spent a day driving the road up to the top of Mt Washington. The road is eight miles, with an average grade of 12%. You have to use 1st gear all the time both ways. They recorded a wind up there of 231 MPH in 1934. People like to set records on the road. One guy was the first to push a wheelbarrow with 100 pounds of sugar up to the top (he was also the first to walk up backwards). Another was the first to ride a water buffalo to the top...lot's of firsts. I snap a few shots of the old cogwheel coal-powered steam train. We rode it two years ago. When it pulls in, about 60 old men make a dash for the three urinals, so you want to be finished with your business before the train arrives.

Lunch in the golf club is very good. We have a sandwich and leek and potato soup, white wine, and finish by sharing a mixed berry pie with a 'dollop' of vanilla ice cream. This morning we move on to the Coast of Maine.

'I weep for you,' the Walrus said

Acadia National Park, Maine

'A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,

'Is what we chiefly need:

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed--

Now if you're ready, Lobsters dear,

We can begin to feed.'

The island of Mount Desert on the east coast of Maine is 40% National Park and 60% privately owned. The largest town is Bar Harbor, but the island is ringed with small harbor towns.

They have something called lobster pounds here on the Maine coast. These are collections of live lobsters kept in salt water enclosures at a restaurant. When you order a lobster, an unlucky crustacean gets popped into a boiling pot and ends up bright red on your plate a few minutes later. Lobsters are big here in Maine. A few of the little island ports actually specialize in catching them in traps to transfer to pounds.

The island is about 20 or 30 miles in diameter with many long 'sounds' and 'ponds' the size of big lakes. There are many miles of biking and hiking trails.

We're heading south this morning, on the last leg of our journey. One more stop on the Maine coast, and then camping for a while south of Boston. We want to see Cape Cod, Martha's Vineyard, and train in to Boston a couple of times to see the museums. One of the churches we passed today is having a 'Bean Suppah' tonight. They talk that way here.

'I weep for you,' the Walrus said:

'I deeply sympathize.'

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.

'Down East' in Maine

Camden Hills State Park, Maine

This park offers a great view of Camden harbor on the coast from the top of Battle Mountain, a choice of wooded or open camp-sites, water, electricity and very fast WIFI.

We found a very big sporting goods store and finally purchased a bicycle rack for the Toyota. We contemplated a 50 pound canoe and canoe rack, but the idea of driving the Toyota everywhere with a big green canoe lashed to the roof, and paddles and life jackets in the back seat, seemed a little unwieldy. The Toyota already has become burdened with a trunk full of camping supplies, and the back seat is now devoted to the satellite dish and an overflow of books and rain gear.

When you go to the top of Battle Mountain you see coastal islands, small harbors and fjords that stretch forever. We had lunch in Camden, perched on a balcony over a waterfall. It was the perfect spot for a clandestine meeting, plotting coups and foiling listening devices. Camden is full of book stores, restaurants and sailing vessels for the tourists to ride. Mrs Phred took me and the bike to the top of the mountain and I sailed two miles down to our camp-site, riding the brakes just enough to keep from flying off into the woods on the curves. I like riding downhill.

Go to the Post flickr account for larger resolutions of the photos here.

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Phred Firecloud

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