In the next few months, we will see more US highways and scenic backroads than many Americans do in a lifetime. So it will be, as we attempt to lug all of our belongings to one spot in New Mexico, where we intend to purchase a house. And I don’t want to get into a conversation right now about the ecological irresponsibility involved in criss-crossing North America by car. Believe me, all that Catholic guilt of my upbringing weighs heavily enough on my mind. Some things simply must be done. So here we go.
The first leg of our great migration â€” an unfortunate and unexpected deviation from the original plan â€” began this week as we set out from the Milwaukee area to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula for a funeral. The UP, as it is known, is home to the Yoopers, a friendly bunch up here, with a distinctive localized take on the English language.
This region is also known for its fishing, and so we stopped at a little market in Lena, Wisconsin, along the way and picked up a massive hunk of Great Lakes smoked whitefish for a whopping $3.30. That fish was exquisite with a side of Wisconsin cheese. Yum. Yum. Yum. If ever you find yourself in Lena, do stop at Wagner’s Super Market and visit the perky man behind the meat and fish counter (he sells smoked chub and homemade sausage, too).