When the going gets tough, the tough get going. So, while the girls were out clubbing, Carl and I went to town, baching it, sort of speak. I parked for free on Magazine, with the intension of eating at Karl’s, but all of their upstairs seating had been taken. Instead, we walked the length of Portage’s tourist row and ate at Superior Café. I had one of their varieties of avocado toast, while Carl had their Rueben. He drank a dark beer and I had a cider. It was good.
After lunch, we went around the corner and visited the Soo Historical Society. I was underwhelmed at first. Their display consisted of the usual collection of hand-me-down heirlooms / junk. Then we met Rowan. Thirteen years old and already well over six feet tall, personable, knowledgeable and generally quite pleasant. He was volunteering at the historical society. He showed off some of the displays, but generally we just talked.
I asked if he was named after the member of the comedy team of Rowan & Martin, but that was way before his time and he didn’t know what I was talking about. He said that he was named after the type of tree. At this time his mother stuck her head in, checking out what too strange men were doing for so long with her boy. She said that his father wanted to call him Alder, but she put her foot down and picked Rowan, because of Rowan & Martin. After about an hour, we bade farewell. His mother wished us well with, “Have fun baching it.”
We walked back down tourist row, past Karl’s to the putt-putt golf course. Shot a relatively quick round and we both finished up with a hole-in-one. Meijer’s was next and then back to the cabin, beating the girls back. We did the Cozy Inn. It was slammed, supposedly because of a fishing derby. We ended up with way more whitefish than we needed, so, I see fish tacos in our not too distant future. Anne, Jay and Carl finished their redwoods puzzle last night.