the incentive

One of the things I was looking forward to the most with this trip to Detroit, was not that I could add another state to my list of states that I’ve been to (now at 32, thanks to this trip), but in having the opportunity to visit another lighthouse.  (One of my Midwest Quests is to photograph all the lighthouses on Lake Michigan before I leave.)  I have visited 3 in Illinois and 21 in Wisconsin, and now, officially, 1 in Michigan.

Introducing…St. Joseph’s Lighthouse:



It was really, really windy on Saturday morning, and waves were coming up over the breakwater by at least 3-4 feet, so this was about as close as I could get.  This lighthouse seems to be a 2-point navigational system.  In front of the larger light that you can see in these pictures, there is a smaller light (you can barely see it just behind the larger one in the second picture).  Boats will use the two lights to line themselves up with the  breakwater and the inlet, so that they don’t drift too far from the opening of the waterway.  This river comes in from Lake Michigan and winds itself down to South Bend, Indiana (Notre Dame), over a little east and then back up into Michigan.  In St. Joseph, they seem to have a lively little marina just inland, to which, I imagine, most of the users of this lighthouse are destined.

Unfortunately, the excitement of this opportunity was eclipsed slightly by a little “episode” on my way there.  I had rented a car for this trip (per my Boss, who knows how old and senile Camille is getting these days) and the dashboard was mostly electronic, an area of development that was not available when Camille was born.  Almost as soon as I left the hotel this morning a little yellow light, shaped like an exclamation point, and the words “check tire pressure” flashed up on the dash.  I nearly panicked…What if my tire blows…or slowly goes flat?  I’m in the middle of nowhere and I’m in a rental car…Oh what is this going to cost me?  So I pull over into the first gas station that I see.  It was only as I was stopping that I realized I was in, perhaps, not the best part of town.  Okay, I thought, I’ll just get out really quick and see if the tires are okay and then I’ll go to another station to deal with it.  As I was getting out of the car, a man was coming out of the station and started walking over near me (he eventually walked past me but at the time I thought he was coming over to me) and he called out “hey, you look real good….I like me some big a***….I like me some big women…”, to which I totally freaked out.  What could I say?  “Gee, thanks”?  No! 

Well, now.  It looks like I’ve got some incentive to go swimming now.  Real incentive!