Please learn from our mistakes

(At least we got to see a beautiful sunset!)

August 29 was my sister's birthday! Happy belated birthday lil sis! Since her birthday fell on a Monday, she asked that we take her sailing on Sunday, August 28. Earlier that week, we thought we might have to cancel because of Hurricane Irene, but Miss Irene ended up going North instead and so the sailing was back on.

My sister and her boyfriend and two friends arrived around noon, so that we could get our sailboat out of the slip while the tide was still pretty high (At low tide, our boat sits in the silt on the bottom). We were planning on surprising my sister by sailing to Fort Caroline, an old fort just brimming over with history (My sister loves history)...but about 2 hours in, Ryan informs us that it would probably take us another 2 hours to reach Fort Caroline, putting us there at around 4-5 pm and not home until 8-9 or even 10 pm. (They had a 2.5 hour trip back to Orlando after the trip ended).....so we all decided that it'd probably be safer to turn around, so we'd be able to take our time getting back to the dock.

We turned around and sailed back towards the curve in the channel (Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that we were in a part of the river that is used by commercial freight boat things?) that we had just passed. Since the wind was blowing towards us, we had to turn to the left (tack) once we reached the far right side of the channel. As we turned to the left, to make the most of the wind, the current pulled us right back to where we had started. Awesome. Since we lost our propeller on the gas motor, we were using a trolling motor that ran off of a battery charged from our solar panel. This motor was so quiet and eco-friendly, we were in hippie heaven until we realized that it is good for maneuvering around our dock but not so much for going against strong currents. We tried changing to a bigger jib (sail that goes on the front of the boat, not the main sail) for more power and we were just about to make it around the corner when a GIANT freight boat (I have no idea what they're called, but they're the size of a cruise ship and blast an ear splitting horn at you if you happen to be in their way) came up and made it very clear, via ear splitting horn, that we needed to move and...lose all the ground we had just made.

This all went on for about 2 hours, with spurts of almost crashing into the rocks on the shore, cursing, one of the little cable thingies that keep the mast from crashing down and killing everyone came undone, more cursing and Brandy's famous "Sailing Induced Nervous Breakdown" (ex: I hate this boat!! We are selling it when we get home!!!) before a really nice couple pulled up in their motor boat and offered to tow us out of the current. They ended up towing us for a good hour to make sure we didn't get stuck again and brought us right up to where our dock is. Thank God for nice people!!

The moral of the story is this: test your boat in the safety of the river to learn all about the kinks and terrible things that can happen. Better to learn them in the river than in the ocean...which is what we were planning to do the following weekend. Thanks to this slight hiccup, we decided to postpone our first venture into the ocean, which could have been a real nightmare.

You know, as this entire day was happening I was thinking "I hope my sister and her friends are prepared to be riverpeople now because we may never leave the St. Johns" but I was also thinking this: "I can't wait to blog about this so other new sailors can avoid our mistakes!"....but now I'm starting to think that making mistakes and learning from them is all part of the sailing experience. We can't possibly plan for every bump in the road! So now, my philosophy is this: once you get your sailboat, do not bring people on it that do not have experience sailing OR if they don't have experience, they don't mind when you get stuck in the river for 2 hours, the propeller falls off, etc.

Jacksonville Jaguars

Even if you have ZERO interest in football (or sports in general), you must experience at least one pro football game at Everbank Stadium. It's your duty as a Jacksonville resident! Plus, it's kind of exciting to be a part of a professional sporting event with the pyrotechnics, 9 year olds belting out the National Anthem, and "cheerleaders" who slightly resemble drunk strippers.

If you can score free tickets, even better! That's what happened to Ryan and I this past Friday for the pre-season game against the Atlanta Falcons. The game started at 8, we got there about 7:30-ish, with plenty of time to get a few drinks and snacks before we found our seats (Practically nosebleed section, but they were free, so I'm not complaining!)

Here are a few tips, should you decide to do your Jacksonville duty and attend a game:

1. Parking is $20-$30. Do yourself a favor and take the shuttle! Prices range from $7-$12 and includes free parking and the calm that comes from not having to nearly run over hundreds of people who do not understand traffic laws. They have pick up locations downtown, at the beaches, Southside, Mandarin, and Orange Park. If you are going to fork over the money for parking, go to the one with the bar :) You'll see it when you get there!

2. Beer is $8 for a 20 oz cup, plan accordingly.

3. Make your arteries hate you, get some cheddar/caramel popcorn. I got regular popcorn and the regret stays with me to this very day.

4. Dress comfortably! Chances are that you will be walking quite a bit and those 10 inch heels will probably murder you. Bonus points if you wear teal, black or gold. Super bonus points if you wear Jaguar gear.

5. People watch. Be prepared to be amazed by the variety of people that come out for Jaguar games.

6. Enjoy the show :) Also, try to stay for the entire game. Jacksonville fans seem to be in a hurry to leave. Sure, it can be boring to see your team being beaten or playing like highschool football players but when they pull ahead in the 4th quarter, you're going to be pissed that you missed the only exciting part of the game.

The Joys of Sailboat Ownership

Step right up, ladies and gents! Do you want a peaceful mode of transportation that relies only on the quiet and gentle breeze that blows your hair back as you lounge majestically like a bronzed goddess on the deck of your sailing vessel?...Yeah, so do I.

Instead, I have found that sailing isn't as peaceful as I thought it would be. It's a lot of hard work, but so far, I still want to keep the damn thing. After this weekend, though, it's starting to look more like Stockholm Syndrome than dedication to our new hobby. This wiley boat has wormed its way into our hearts and even an experience like the one I'm about to describe has not yet sent us running for our axes to chop the thing into tiny pieces (although the thought has crossed my mind, many, many times. It's probably a good thing that I don't actually have an ax that I could run for).

This weekend, I had finally convinced a friend of mine that her motion sickness would not be activated by our little darling. This statement proved to make me a liar for two reasons: 1. There was absolutely no wind, so we had to motor the entire way, and 2. The engine was acting up, so it took forever. Even though we weren't on a very bumpy ride, it was a much longer ride than anticipated and so my friend ended up catching a cab back to her hotel instead of the sail back with us to avoid covering us with the partially digested contents of her lunch. (Thanks friend!)

Wouldn't you know it, we had great wind on the way home! Instead of the 2+ hours it took us to get there, it only took 45 minutes to get back. AWESOME. One problem: the giant, black clouds that seemed to be rolling in at an alarming rate. Even though we knew the tide was going to be pretty low, which would result in the water being too shallow for us to make it in our boat slip without getting stuck...we decided to risk it. About 50 feet from our dock, the boat stops moving. The engine is "I think I can-ing" its little heart out but we are not going anywhere. Then, the little engine that couldn't started making an unusual noise. Ryan makes a funny face and says calmly, "That's not good"...I don't know anything about engines, so I'm thinking, okay, maybe some seaweed got in there (We're in the St. John's River, pretty sure we don't have seaweed but whatever) but apparently when Ryan says "Not good" what he reallys means is: THE FRICKIN PROPELLER FELL OFF THE ENGINE INTO THE KNEE DEEP SILT THAT COVERS THE BOTTOM OF THE RIVER.

Side note: When we renamed our boat, we dumped a whole lot of champagne into the water for the renaming ceremony PRECISELY so that these things would not happen. The gods of wind and water have totally ripped us off.

We pull up the engine to see that, yes, we no longer have a propeller, so our engine is now useless. We both kind of laugh these crazy little laughs and nervously look at the lightning and blackness that is now closing in on us. (Maybe a little overdramatic, the storm was actually pretty mild in terms of wind and waves...but I have no idea what happens to the occupants of a sailboat when lightning hits the mast, do you?)

It starts sprinkling and then full on bucketing water at us, so we decide we should probably get in the cabin to stay dry. This would have worked out pretty well if it weren't extremely hot and stuffy in the cabin. I thought taking my chances with the rain would be more comfortable, so I made my way back up to the top. At some point, Ryan joins me and then promptly theorizes that if he jumps in the water, he could pull us to the boat slip. I should have realized that his brain was addled with storm fever, but it seemed like an okay idea at the time. He jumps in and...stands up. The water is currently so shallow that he can stand. In knee deep silt, but still standing. He pulls the boat as hard as he can for a while, which amuses a few of our neighbors who are now out in their yards taking pictures and asking us to "Smile" and calling Ryan a "Hero". I'm not sure "Hero" is the word, but it is pretty entertaining to watch a human trying to pull a very heavy sailboat through the mud.

Eventually, one of our neighbors offers to come get us in his canoe. I jump at the chance to escape the boat until the tide comes back in and we can move the ol' girl, but Ryan thinks it's best to keep pulling the boat (which has not moved since he began). Feeling quite smug and proud of myself for escaping the situation and being the clear intellectual in this situation, I walk to our condo once I reach solid ground. I make it all the way to our front door before I realize that my keys are in the boat. (I have also forgotten my sandals on the boat. Did I mention that I walked barefoot through our condo complex barefoot, drenched, and generally looking like a vagabond?)

I slowly make my way back to the dock, kicking anything that won't hurt my bare feet and muttering the whole way about "that stupid, frickin boat". Ryan is still doing his he-man thing but when he sees me, he gets on the boat, grabs a few beers in a sail bag, and holds the bag in his teeth as he swims on his back to the dock. He looked like a little sea otter but instead of shells on his belly, he had a sack o' beer. I want you to picture that for a moment and tell me that I did not marry well.

We thank our new canoe hero friend and head back to our place for a few hours to relax while the tide comes in. Around 8:30 pm, freshly scrubbed and in dry clothes, we make our way back to the boat. Ryan again leaps into the water in his t-shirt and board shorts, grabs a rope and, like a half-man/half-fish or MerMan, he quickly has our sailboat pulled to the dock. From there it was simply a matter of moving it into its slip and spending many hours cleaning the black silty mud off the ropes, sails and deck (Our canoe neighbor friend pointed out to us that the silt was somewhat similar to, pardon his French, "warm shit").

Still want a sailboat?

Hair Adventure! Going "No 'Poo"

After reading about the "No 'Poo" movement, it took longer than I care to disclose to realize that by poo they mean, shampoo. (I had very unpleasant visions of a no poo movement) Once I realized that it was my brain that was moving slowly and not the bowels of the movement, I thought I'd give it a whirl:

I tried to just rinse my hair instead of using the suggested method for easing into the no 'poo movement...I made it about 4 hours before I rushed out of bed at 11 pm and decided that maybe I should use the suggested method after all because I felt disgusting.

Suggested method for going No 'Poo:
Step 1: Take 1 tbsp baking soda and mix with 1 cup water. Apply to roots and work through the rest of your hair.

Brandy's Note: My hair is waaay past my shoulders, it was nearly impossible to apply to my entire head because my stupid hair kept getting in the way. Also, this is baking soda, not shampoo, so it doesn't exactly lather. It kinda sandpapered its way to my scalp through parts of the hair jungle and it felt like maybe I was tearing my hair? I could just be a wuss.

Step 2: Add 1 tbsp of apple cider vinegar to 1 cup of water and apply to ends of hair to condition.

Brandy's Note: I don't think this conditioned my hair. Maybe I should have doubled this whole thing since my hair is long?

Step 3: Rinse.

Step 4: Rinse hair with water when needed. Cleanse weekly or less.

Brandy's Note: I had a friend's birthday party to go to the next day, so I broke down and shampooed and conditioned before the party so that my hair would be soft and pretty instead of dry and scraggly like a street urchin.


Conclusion: I have straight hair that I rarely blow dry and and it is even more rare for me to use styling products or style my hair in any way. So, for me, this gave my hair a texture somewhat akin to a giant broom that fell in some mud and then walked through a desert. If you use product and style frequently, this might work for you because it makes your hair more pliable. Also, if you have short hair, it might work out pretty well because you could actually get the baking soda to your scalp and the texture would probably look cool.

I will probably try it again because I'm all for weird experiments with home remedies. From what I've read online, if you keep it going your scalp eventually regulates and you rarely need to wash your hair and you save money and your hair isn't so broomy.

Even if you don't want to go no 'poo completely, the baking soda and apple cider vinegar thing is supposedly good for removing any build up or gunk. On a slightly unrelated note: I have also tried the coffee grounds in the hair thing and it did make my hair softer but I'm not sure if it gave me "great highlights for brunettes"....it DID make my husband look at me weird though, so bonus for that!

The Upper Peninsula of Michigan

Whenever I meet someone new in Florida, we can usually chat for a good 15 minutes, sometimes longer, before an accidental "ruff" (instead of roof) or "ya hey? betrays my origin and I'm asked with a suspicious glare: "Where are you from?"

That's when I usually get into the complicated explanation that yes I'm from Michigan but no it's not anywhere near Detroit. There is usually some demonstration with my hands but eventually I will give up and say with a sigh, "It's almost like I'm Canadian". "Ahhh..." they finally say with an understanding nod, "I have seen the movie Fargo."

Even for those who are from the Midwest, to say I'm from the Upper Peninsula or U.P. only draws blank stares and the "Is that by Detroit?" question. Very rarely, I meet someone who hears "Upper Peninsula" and says "Oh! You're a Yooper" and then I awkwardly hold back my initial desire to kiss them and usually just go with "Holy crap, how did you know that???" Then we reminisce about pasties, deer and the tree to people ratio of the Upper Peninsula.

Now that we've cleared all that up, let me tell you about Ryan's second journey to this magical forest land and my journey home...

Pioneer Days

Every year during the week following the 4th of July, hordes of ex-Negaunee residents migrate to Negaunee, MI for Pioneer Days. Pioneer Days is a time when Negaunee can enjoy the spotlight without the distraction of other holidays and can attract visitors from around the world (well, maybe just the country, depends on the year) for fireworks, nights out on the town, a parade and good old fashioned small town fun. It's during the month or so that the UP is not covered in snow and participants all around town can be heard saying how "muggy" it is while slapping at mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds.

We arrived just in time for the annual "Night on the Town" and I was excited because it was the first time I had been back during this event that I was over 21 and able to enjoy the festivities. Before we hit up the bars, we ate our weight in the best homemade pizza I have ever had at our host's mom's house. When we were confident that we could not fit another piece of mushroom/pesto/marinara or prosciutto/arugula/lemon pizza, we made the trek to Iron Street.

For this "Night on the Town" you have to walk down to Iron Street (yes, walk, no drinking and driving!) and choose from bars named "Barr's", "Rookies", "Chappers" or even "The Hard Rock". Barr's Bar was jam packed full of Negaunee-ans, so it was an excellent choice for our first stop. At Barr's Bar, you can buy a round for a sizeable group of people for around $20. That is both a bargain and a recipe for disaster! Luckily, we all managed to be reasonably responsible adults but I have heard more than a few tales of those who haven't! I made a point to introduce Ryan to absolutely everyone I have ever known so that when I tell him a story later on I can say, "Oh you remember so and so, you met them at Pioneer Days!" He will then nod and smile while thinking "You crazy Brandy, I have no idea who you're talking about"...our marriage is beautiful.

From Barr's we walked to a few other bars (they're all on the same street) and ended up at a place where our host abruptly handed us a bottle of Boone's Farm "wine" and told us to "Drink and pass". I can't say that I have ever been offered Boone's Farm outside of a 7-11 or from the inside of a paper bag from a bum on the street, but it makes for a good story and it tasted like kool aid. All in all, this little town was an excellent party host and we had a really good time....man, those Yoopers can drink!

Marquette and Republic

The next day, we went with my sister, her boyfriend and her friend (who is like my other little sister) and my grandmother to visit my grandfather at the Jacobetti Home for Veterans in Marquette, MI. He has Alzheimer's and while I was very nervous that he wouldn't remember me, he seemed to remember both me and my sister and maybe even Ryan from 3 years ago! It was hard to see him looking so fragile and his arthritis has made his body quite stiff and hard to move but I was so happy to see him and I hope that we helped to brighten his day!

After leaving the home, we had lunch at The Vierling, which is right next to Lake Superior and serves the best blueberry beer (according to Ryan) and whitefish (according to me). Whitefish is a Northern specialty that you won't find in Florida. It's a freshwater fish that is caught in Lake Superior and so I had to sample some while we were in town, even though I normally try to stay away from meat. I highly recommend it to anyone visiting and looking for something local. The breadsticks and cheese dip are really good too!

Another tourist tip that I have is to make sure to visit Presque Isle on Lake Superior. It is gorgeous 365 days a year, but if you go when it's cold, like we did in 2008, you may have to enjoy that beauty from the inside of your car :) On this day, it was a little windy but a local assured us that the wind was blowing in the warm top water and that the water was warmer than normal at McCarty's Cove. (Just outside of Presque Isle) I should have remembered that "warmer than normal" still means pretty darn cold when you're talking about Lake Superior whose annual average water temperature is 40 degrees! We dipped our feet in for about 2.5 seconds before jumping out and bravely stating that "it's not too cold, we just don't want to be in the water right now". We'd make terrible Yoopers.

From the cove we made our way to the breakwall which extends to an adorable lighthouse at the end and we then went to The Black Rocks and to various points around the park. Presque Isle is absolutely stunning and you could spend days there, but we wanted to get to my grandma's house in Republic (about 45 minutes-1 hr away) so we didn't spend as much time there as we could have.

Republic, MI (Population just under 1,000) is an even smaller town than Negaunee (Population around 4,400) but what it lacks in population and businesses, it more than makes up for in beautiful rivers and landscape. My two aunts share 3 acres on the Michigamme River and one lives in a house full time and my other aunt and her family use the smaller cabin for a vacation home. Both buildings are right on the water and make an excellent place to go swimming or to launch a kayak or paddle boat. My sister and co were staying at my aunt's cabin and they hosted us for some fire roasted hot dogs (humanely raised Applegate from the health food store!) and marshmallows. We stayed as long as the mosquitoes allowed us to, but eventually made our way into the safety of my grandma's house for the best night's sleep I had enjoyed in days.

In the morning, we were greeted by the songs of crows. Some may argue that it's more like the God awful squawking of crows, but these are the sounds of my childhood! Let me have this. We made a stop at the Republic Historical Museum where my grandma volunteers a lot of her time before heading to "The Restaurant" for breakfast. The museum is a house from the 1800's that has been restored and filled with all sorts of information and is currently set up to educate visitors about the Great Depression era. It was special for me because many of the old photos were of people that my grandma knew personally and even a few that I knew (it was so weird to see my great grandma Helmi as a young 20 something!) My favorite items were a dress made out of a flour sack and the basketball uniform that they wore back then...who wears short shorts? Republic High School basketball players during the Great Depression!>
When we finally walked into "The Restaurant" (actually named The Summer Place, but we all call it The Restaurant because it's really the only one in Republic) we were greeted by my grandma's brother and sister-in-law as well as a few other Republic residents. I have been going with my grandma to the restaurant since I was little, so I already knew I'd be getting french toast and Ryan bravely ordered the cudighi. Cudighi is another Yooper specific item that is essentially a spicy Italian sausage. It has been said that you know a good cudighi if you burp it up several days later. That is disgusting.

Back to Pioneer Days

Breakfast was lovely but it was now time for one of my favorite things: a parade! We made the drive back to Negaunee just in time to see the honorees of the parade: the fireworks crew of the Negaunee fireworks...they take their fireworks pretty seriously. We had a great spot to watch the parade in front of my friend's cousin's house with the rest of her family. Ryan and I resisted the urge to grab the candy being thrown from the floats and instead gave it to the small children seated near us, plus or minus a few Airheads or Frooties (I cannot find those things anywhere but parades! Maybe that is the entire reason I like parades?)

When the last float in the parade had passed, we hopped into a car with our host to her aunt and uncle's cabin on the Dead River where we were again presented with more food than we could ever eat (Yoopers are very hospitable!) and then led to a boat for some wakeboarding. Ryan did pretty well considering he hasn't been that often and I haven't been wakeboarding in at least 5 years, so I shouldn't have been surprised when the rope was yanked out of my hands rather than pulling me up out of the water...I did feel like a 90 lb weakling, but at least I didn't have the threat of a Florida gator ripping my leg off while I waited in the water with a wakeboard strapped to my feet. UP Pros and Cons- Pro: No gators or really anything poisonous and there are loads of friendly people, Con: 97% of the year is freezing. Perfect for gator phobic, gregarious Eskimos, bad for Brandy's who get cold in 70 degree weather with a sweater on. Sigh.

After a full day of The Restaurant, a parade, food, drink, and boating, it was time for the fireworks. The crew of which had just been honored with the entire theme of the Pioneer Days parade! We climbed up a ladder onto a rooftop and watched the whole show from a birds eye view...pretty cool.

The next morning, with our host hours away from waking up, Ryan and I borrowed her car and drove to Irontown Pasties for the most Yooper-centric item of all: the pasty. Pronounced "pass-tee" not "pace-tee", this culinary delight is a blend of straight up lard, potatoes, rutabaga, onion and ground beef. This hearty, football shaped meat pie was a favorite of early Yoopers who spent long hours in the mine and needed something warm to keep them going. If you're lucky, you'll find them at an English pub since they originated in Cornwall, England as early as 1510 but more than likely, you have not ever heard of them and will only be pitied if you bring it up. "What? You've never heard of pasties?? I swear it's a real thing!"
With a pasty in our bellies, we decided to make the hike out to "Swede", a cliff overlooking Teal Lake in Negaunee. People have been going out to Swede for as long as anyone can remember and at times it even has a dock built onto the rocks for swimmers to jump off of into the lake. Since I hadn't been out there in about 10 years, I should have known that I would get us lost but the important thing is that we eventually made it and it totally didn't live up to the stories I had told Ryan. When you're little, everything seems HUGE, so I think I overexaggerated the height of the rocks that you jump from and when we finally got there, I was in a bit of denial. "No, this can't be it...it was super scary and a million feet high"...after I realized that I had been lying to my husband for years, I took my first jump in the freezing but shockingly refreshing water. I only jumped in twice, which just means I'm getting old because I remember jumping in over and over as a smaller person. Poor old lady. If you can avoid getting lost like I did, maybe by asking a local for directions, Swede offers a beautiful hike and view of the lake, even if the jump isn't a million feet down :)

To summarize: the Upper Peninsula of Michigan has more trees than people, many strange and wonderful foods, interesting accents that are confused with everything from Canadian to Irish accents, lovely people, unspoiled wilderness (I think I stole that from National Geographic somehow) and above all, unless you are a gregarious Eskimo: IS BEST VISITED IN JULY OR AUGUST.

Note: One of my very best friends in the whole wide world hosted us while we were in Negaunee but to respect her privacy, I'm not using her name and "very best friend ever" takes too long to type, so I'm calling her our host. Another very best friend ever drove me from Chicago to the UP and back to Chicago, but unless you're interested in our stop at Maria's Mexican Restaurant in Suamico, WI or how I tried to bribe her dog with dog treats so that he'd love me, our drive was mostly uneventful and just a good chance for us to catch up! I also left out a few other things that were meaningful to me, but I didn't think anyone else would really care about!