Tri County Motors

In God We Trust ! (summer 2018)

Thu, 20 Dec 2018 11:05:00 GMT

In God we trust. Period! Together, these four words have some awesome power. Singularly, they still pack a mighty punch. Our founding Fathers thought enough about this phrase that it was, and still is minted on all our coins, printed on all our bills. We see it every day. We see it so often that we often don’t really see it or think about it. Go ahead, dig some bills out of your pocket, dredge up a few coins. You don’t have to look very hard. It’s there. “In God we trust” on the front of every coin, on the back of every bill. Look at it, think about it. We often take our freedoms for granted. Our freedom really comes from TRUST. Our trust in God doing every day chores, our trust in God while making decisions of national importance, or at least it should! We have to trust our law makers, our decision makers, our leaders. They, in turn, must trust their advisors. I don’t want to start some nasty debate of keeping religion separate from politics, or what religion I follow, or about religion at all. I have to think that no matter what church you go to, we all believe in the same God! Catholic, Baptist, Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian, Christion Reformed, Jehovah’s Witness and others, all believe in God. Other details of worship and beliefs probably differ, but God is the common denominator. I think our Founding Fathers believed this too, and they knew that this one, single phrase could bind us all together. In God we trust! Our trust in fellow man seems to be available in different degrees. When I put money in the bank, I trust it will be available when I want to withdraw it. To gain our trust, the bank (actually the government) guarantees our deposits up to one quarter million dollars! When I buy meat from the Co-op, I trust it will be fresh and of good quality. I trust the employees and the management of the Co-op. They don’t have any fancy government backed guarantee, but I trust them, and I am certain that if I brought a problem to their attention, they would offer a satisfactory solution. I have dealt with this store for over 50 years and the few times I’ve had an issue, it was resolved quickly. I trust the Co-op store. I have sold a few things on the internet; Facebook and Craigslist. The buyer has to trust me that the product he is buying is actually the way I have described it. I have to trust him that his method of payment is true and just. It takes a lot of trust to do business over the internet. Some internet companies, like E-bay will protect the buyer if the product is not up to standards. This will increase the trust factor for the buyer, he can return the product and demand his money back. This doesn’t always work so well for the seller. I once heard a story where a new chainsaw was sold for $50.00. The buyer fueled it up to try it. It was not as powerful as he had hoped and demanded his money back. Well now the chainsaw became a hazardous shipment because of the fuel in the tank, in the lines, in the carburetor. The return shipping would be more than the saw was worth. The sad truth for the seller was the buyer ended up with a free chainsaw. The trust factor fell apart on this deal. Human nature being what it is, we tend to trust each other. I would like to think that people don’t often lie to me. I take them for their word. I rely on my advisors, who are often more skeptical than I, to smell out a lie. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally I will take precautions to protect myself in case the person is not trustworthy. Some professions, like law officers, are trained to question everything. Obviously, this training is because of the clients they generally work with. I once had to endure a tough line of questioning when going through Customs in The Netherlands. I was travelling to Paris and first landed in Amsterdam. Being the Port of entry, we had to endure the machine gun barrage of questions coming from the incredibly tall, well presented, female Dutch Customs Agent. “Where did you buy your tickets? (it was a tour package, I don’t know) “How did you pay for your tickets? What credit card did you use? (It was six months ago, for Pete’s sake, I don’t remember) “What Hotel are you staying at? (Again, it’s a tour. I don’t know, I just follow the guide!) “Are you carrying illegal drugs or large amounts of cash? (You gotta be kidding me!) I was pleasantly surprised when the handcuffs remained tucked into her belt and I was told to proceed! Jeeze, I think I got ALL the questions wrong, but she trusted me anyway and let me pass. When travelling abroad, I feel very vulnerable and by necessity have to over-extend the trust factor. Often having a language barrier, I must trust the cab driver will actually bring me to the hotel on the match book cover that I handed to him. And I have to trust that the address on the match book cover is actually the hotel that I’m staying at (I forgot to double check before leaving, I just trusted that it was right.) Not all that familiar with the local currency, I need to trust that I am getting a fair exchange for my dollars, and I need to trust that I am getting charged the right price and getting the right change. Sometimes my head spins while I’m looking at a handful of unfamiliar coins, trying to count it all out. Screw it! I dig out the largest bill I have and lay it on the counter, I take whatever change is handed to me and stuff it in my pocket and move on. I trust him! I have travelled to Mexico a few times and always seem to have a few Peso notes hanging around. Before a trip this spring, I rounded up all the Peso notes I had, one was quite different. It looked older than the rest, but it was a Dos Mil Peso note, 2000 Pesos! At the current exchange it should work out to about $180 US. While paying for a day trip while in Mexico, I whipped out my Dos Mil Peso note and laid it on the counter. The clerk looked at it quite quizzically and called over another clerk, possibly the manager. They both scrutinized the bill (It may have had ‘In God we trust’ printed on it, but then I don’t read Spanish very well) and finally the manager looks at me and says “Senior, do you know what you have here?” Remember, I said this was older looking than the rest? I became hopeful that it may be worth even more! “Senior, this is 2000 Viejo Peso (old money) printed in 1988, it might be worth two cents American! Nuevo Peso is not made in Dos Mil Peso. This is a souvenir; do you mind if I keep it?” A quick memory scan let me remember when the Nuevo Peso was introduced in the early ‘90s the decimal point floated quite a few places to the left to compensate for the sagging Mexican economy. I trusted him, and he proudly tacked it over the cash register. We all had a good laugh as I laid out a stack of 100 Peso notes (about $9.00 US each) to pay for my trip. In closing I want to thank all of you for the trust you have instilled in me and my crew. Without your trust, my business could not have grown and flourished like it has over the past forty years. Without your trust, I could not have had my children get the education that they have. Without your trust, I could not have the house I live in and the food on my table. For all of that trust, I thank you…

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Reflections (winter 2018)

Thu, 20 Dec 2018 11:02:00 GMT

As this year comes to close, we all tend to gather with family and reflect on that past year and hopefully make plans for the coming year. The conversation trends about all the fun we had last summer, because in the fall, we tend to be putting things away and preparing for the winter. Besides, it’s more fun to talk about warm times on a cold night. The summer tends to be busy with everyone buzzing around with yard and garden duties, lazy days at the beach and camping at your favorite lake/ river/ mountain/ campground. Those lazy, hazy summer days are now long gone, but not forgotten. We all (at least Kris and I) have many fond memories of sipping a cold drink on our porch last July with the sweat running off our noses. Boy, it was HOT, at least 90 degrees! That prompted us to install ceiling fans on our porch, a project that we had thought about for years, but I always put it off. “Yoopers don’t have ceiling fans on their porches, that’s what box fans are for” I would often say. It must have been a moment of weakness; that and ceiling fans on sale for 90% off, that soon had me mounting a brace of ceiling fans on our porch. I must say, they do add a touch of class and tend to keep the skeeters away on a hot summer night! We will see if it keeps the robins from nesting in the porch rafters next spring. I don’t have anything against robins, and I do enjoy seeing the hatchlings grow to fledglings, but the birds tend to make a mess on the porch. Not only under the nest, but all on the rails and everywhere. I think birds have a hard time taking off for flight without ‘lightening the load’ on take-off. Another hot weather July project we tackled was a backyard swimming pool. Kris would often ask “Can’t you just imagine a built-in pool in the back yard with a deck all the way around? Wouldn’t THAT be fun?” I would again counter with “Yoopers don’t have enough warm weather for a big ol’ built in pool, or even an above ground pool for that matter.” Kris was starting to think that all old Finnlander Yoopers were scrooges, no fun at all. After two weeks of hot weather, I caved. “Okay” I said, “order the pool”. I still wasn’t about to dig a hole and build a deck, but we did order one of those big blue bladders with the inflatable ring around the top. Another week of 90-degree weather passed before we had a bulky cardboard box with our pool! We had it unfolded and ready for water in less than 2 hours, we had done the prep work of leveling the yard while waiting for the freight delivery. The darn thing was big enough, it held more than 4000 gallons! Now I keep a couple of garden spigots hooked up to my well water, but basically my house is plumbed to ‘city’ water. We trained one hose from each source to the pool to hasten the filling process, and it still took nearly 30 hours to fill. That pool full of crystal-clear water in a big blue bladder looked sooo inviting on the 90-degree afternoon on the day it filled. Now I’m not going to tell you that a body cannot enjoy a pool full of 46-degree water on a 90-degree day, but I will tell you that a body won’t enjoy said water for more that a few seconds before screaming “BWAAAAGH” and scrambling for the ladder in a hasty retreat. Now, how to heat the water? We have already had 3 weeks of 90-degree temps. How long can this weather last? Can we depend on just the sun? We did get a ‘solar’ cover for the pool, it’s supposed to capture the heat of the sun and warm the water, and it did warm the water, but only the top 3 inches of it. The lower 37 inches seemed to be as chilly as the Carp river in Smelt season. Then I spied my fully functioning hot tub only 20 feet away. There MUST be some way of harnessing the heat of that 104-degree water and warm our new swimming pool. I scrounged up a working submersible pump and 100 feet of garden hose. I opened the hot tub and threw in most of the hose, leaving just enough to reach the sump pump in the bottom of the pool. I pumped the cool pool water through the hose, warming as it travels through the hot tub water, then back to the pool. Pretty smart, eh? Except that it worked only marginally well. It seems the rubber hose has some pretty good insulating qualities and the water really didn’t warm that much. Aha! I thought… COPPER! Except that copper = $$$. I shopped around and asked questions. Three quarter inch? Ouch, that really stings the wallet. Five eights? Marginally better. Half inch seemed to be the best choice, the most affordable without throttling the pump too badly. So off I go back to build a better pool heater with one hundred feet of copper pipe and a couple of garden hose adapters. I threw that roll of copper in the hot tub and turned on the pump. Wow, the water out the hose was instantly much warmer! This redneck Yooper pool heater was really working! It worked so well that the temperature of the hot tub plummeted, and the 8000-watt heater was running constantly! That was okay though, because in a few short days that 4000-gallon pool was up to 80 degrees and usable! I learned a lot about swimming pools last summer; the chemical balance, filter maintenance, skimming the bugs and leaves, and how much electricity it can take to heat a pool with your hot tub! Yup, it’s a commitment, but just another labor of love. It’s what you gotta do if you want a pool. Or you could go over to the High School Pool, its open for open swim several days a week, no skimming, no heating, just $4.50 a head to swim… very affordable. AND it’s open year around. The Rudyard School Pool is one of Rudyard’s forgotten gems. Several schools in the area have closed their pools, but we are VERY fortunate that ours is constantly being updated and managed by a very active group of interested individuals. There is adult lap swim in the morning, water exercise in the evening, several sessions of open swim every week to do whatever. In the past there has been SCUBA lessons and Kayak lessons. Swimming lessons for all ages is offered every summer. If you need an idea for a New Year resolution, it may have something to do with the pool! (It’s even open for private parties) Another respite from winter cabin fever can be found at the Rudyard School Public Library. It IS a Public Library and the public is welcome anytime the library is open, even during the school day. Stop by and browse, you may be surprised at what you find if you haven’t been there in a while. There are more than just books. If you want to get outdoors more this season, I keep the cross-country ski trails open and groomed at both the School Farm (5 miles north of Rudyard) and at the Pine Bowl Pathway in Kinross (M-80, east of Kincheloe) I am the volunteer groomer for both the Rudyard Lions Club (School Farm) and the MI-DNR (Pine Bowl) There is ample parking at both locations, the trails are groomed most Fridays and are well marked. Snow shoeing is encouraged at both locations, but please, do not walk in the ski tracks! And Finally, if you want to make a difference to your community in the future, please consider being one of the “50 People Who Care”. The Rudyard Area Community Foundation need 50 People Who Care. People who are willing to commit to $20 each month to the Community Foundation. It is the mission of RACF to engage in funds for scholarships for graduating seniors of Rudyard High School. And if you really want to be involved, there is a vacant board seat. Call me for more information. We are sending this letter in liew of Christmas cards this year. We hope you enjoy it!
Merry Christmas from Tom & Kris Piippo and the Crew at Tri-County Motors

In the beginning… (Fall 2018)

Thu, 20 Dec 2018 10:57:00 GMT

I’ve been fixing things since I was 7 years old, starting with the family lawnmower. It wasn’t really broken, but I was curious as to what was inside. Dad had a few tools laying around, so I proceeded to remove a few bolts and nuts. After the top cover came off, there was another world of marvelous parts to explore. Have you ever gone to an open house, you know a house for sale where you can walk in and look around? Were you satisfied just to look at it from the curb, or maybe just step in the foyer and say “That’s the house for me!” I don’t think so. Human nature being what it is, we are all curious to some degree on differing subjects. You would probably want to search out every room, discover every closet, hallway, staircase and even peer into the kitchen cupboards. Only after you get serious about ownership would you perhaps inspect the plumbing like flushing the toilet, running the sinks, and flicking on all the lights. But this open house is just to get acquainted, to get a feel for the house. Well removing that top cover was like standing in the foyer of a great big house. There was so much to explore, so many passages and hallways. I just had to keep going. After a couple of hours, spent mostly searching for more tools, I had a great pile of parts not so neatly laid out all over the back-porch step and lawn. I was just fascinated as I spun the flywheel and watched the piston move smoothly up and down in the cylinder bore. I’ve never seen a piston before, but I figured that this just had to be it! As the mesmerizing spell of the moving internal parts began to wane, I noticed what I thought must be the valves moving in concert with the piston, each opening and closing just before the other began its ballet step, in three part harmony. My, this was fascinating! Piston down- valve open, piston up- valve closes. I’m not too sure just how long I sat pondering this great marvel of the modern world, but my blissful trance was broken with my mother’s shriek “Tommy Piippo, I don’t know what you’ve done, but you had better put that thing back together before your father gets home”. In 1964 America, the threat of father finding out you did something bad had all the weight of a nuclear explosion along with the extended fallout. If I didn’t get this right, there was going to be heavy consequences. I was sure that I would be expected to fund a new Montgomery Ward’s lawnmower. I started driving when I was 14 years old. Bob Hogle sold me a 1965 Volkswagen Beetle for $50.00. This car had a bad engine, so the thought was that I could work on this car for a year or two, and it would be ready by the time I got my license. Funny, the car was only 5 years old at the time, but we had all considered it an old car. Maybe it was because the Beetle did not change its appearance very dramatically year to year, maybe because the door sills were already rusted off, or most probably because it needed engine work. Anyway, gathering father’s lawnmower tools I set to the task of discovering the internal workings of a four-cylinder engine. Father’s tools were laid out according to size so that they would be easier to identify when I needed one. 3/8”, 7/16”, ½”, 9/16”, etc. Hmmm, the wrenches were not quite fitting. Some were too loose, others too tight, they would almost fit, but not quite. It was at this time that I made my first real tool purchase. I had been watching the Co-op store, and they finally got some metric sockets, so I purchased their finest 3/8 drive, 6 point, shallow, chrome S&K lifetime warranty sockets. The choice was easy, this was the only metric socket set they had. I had the pleasant opportunity to work on this project in Uncle George’s garage. Yes, no more back yard repairs for me, now I have a real garage with a cement floor, a roof, workbenches and lights! I felt like this was the big leagues. I think I still have the booklet that I used for a reference, for this engine repair job. It gave some generalities about Volkswagen engines, but certainly NOT a service manual to be used for engine overhaul. You don’t know what you don’t know, so I plowed ahead. With pamphlet in hand and a J.C. Whitney auto parts mail order catalog I proceeded to remove the engine and scatter all those marvelous internal pieces all over the garage. After scrutinizing and cataloging all the engine parts, I made a list of the needed items to resurrect the old 1200cc VW engine. These parts included a 1500cc “Big Bore” kit for MORE POWER! I gave mom the cash needed, and she wrote a check for the mail order parts. (This was WAY before Amazon!) I put a stamp on the envelope and put it in the mailbox and raised the little red metal flag on the side. I forget if it was Donner Dowd Sr., or Harold Fuerstnau that I watched take the mail that day, but the anticipation was so thick that I swear you could see it in the air. Two weeks later the parts arrived. As expected, the reassembly was much more critical than taking the darn greasy thing apart. First there was all the cleaning of the reused parts. Then there was the fitting of the new parts. Why, oh why did I get 6 oil pump gaskets, all different thicknesses? Well, just to be safe, lets use them all! With All the parts assembled in the engine block, with liberal amounts of Permatex Gasket sealer (I didn’t want any leaks) we carefully reinstalled the freshly rebuilt (by a 14 year old mechanic) engine and tried to fired it up. It didn’t bark to life right away, there was much fiddling and adjusting for a day or two. Then there was some disassembling and reassembling of some parts. Then there was some “towing it down the road and popping the clutch” but that didn’t produce any noise and smoke from the engine either. When we finally realized that the distributor can be installed two different ways, and maybe, just maybe we had installed it incorrectly. We installed it the other way just to rule out the possibility that we were wrong. I am using the pronoun “we” because I did not embark on this endeavor alone. I had enlisted the help of others. I knew that I lacked the instinctive male knowledge of the intimate workings of this 1965 VW engine. I knew that I needed help, so I confided in my 12 year old cousins, Porky and Mike John. They, along with the knowledge siphoned from their fathers, Uncle Mike and Uncle George, could supplement the needed knowledge to bring this project to fruition. My own father did not help because he had faith in me. Not that he thought that I could complete this project successfully on the first attempt, but because he knew that I had SISU; the drive to see success in whatever I did. And success I achieved! The engine fired to life with the distributor adjusted to the “wrong” position. With a slight timing adjustment and a few turns of the screw on the carburetor, we were soon motoring this 1965 VW Beetle down the backroads of Rudyard! The only parts lacking were a license plate and a driver’s license. Those minor details didn’t bother me, I was driving MY car! There is nothing like the rush of driving your own car when you are 14 years old in Rudyard. YEE-HAW! My enthusiasm was short lived, however. Among those 6 oil pump gaskets, there was only one that belonged in my engine. Years later I found out that those are selective fit gaskets. You must take a measurement and then select the proper sized gasket to make it all work. If you use one too thick (or all of them at once) and you get NO oil pressure. No oil pressure means NO lubrication for the internal engine parts. No lubrication puts me back to square one with a $50.00 Volkswagen with a bad engine… And to think that 7 years prior, father had NO clue (Or had mother told him?) that I had taken apart his lawnmower and reassembled it with very few ‘leftover’ parts. It must not have needed them anyway. PS: I borrowed and used that lawnmower after I got married!

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Summer Recap

Fri, 18 Aug 2017 12:09:00 GMT

We started the garden seeds in the basement as usual, but just a few less after being inundated with squash plants last year. I figured that the squash was a fast-growing plant so I would just sow the seeds directly into the dirt like I used to do. Now I like to put seeds in early and if frost kills them off, then I just reseed and figure that I planted at the earliest possible date. It’s not like I plant several acres, so the price of seed is not as big a concern as getting a good harvest. Well, we didn’t have any late frosts that I can think of, but I do recall the place where I plant my seeds as resembling, well, it looked like a swamp! I have pretty good drainage, but all the rain and cool weather kept the ground too wet to work in. The first and second weeks of May (my targeted seeding dates) turned into the first and second week of June! By the end of June when the emerging sprouts were few and lonely, I sorted through the dirt to find ungerminated and rotted bean and pea seeds, uggh! By now the seeds are on sale, only 25 cents for a pack! The selection was pretty meager, but I found enough bean and pea seed to meet my needs. Now I can plan for a staggered harvest. The zucchini plants finally emerged in early July; last year we were eating some tender young zucchini by that time. The cucumber plants that were started in the basement were floundering, only 2 plants in 6 showed any promise. The butternut squash plants are growing, but not many blossoms or fruit are on the vines. By now it’s late August and frost will not be unexpected in a few weeks. All is not lost! To date we have harvested wax beans twice, some peas for salads, 2 cucumbers, 1 or 2 zucchinis, and a dozen tomatoes. The tomatoes show the best promise of a good harvest, we are picking 6 or more every day as they are ripening (12 plants). We should also have a good potato harvest. Our potato seed was the runts from last year’s crop; the small golf ball sized ones that always got pushed to the back of the bin and begun to sprout. We planted Ida Reds, Golden Russett and purple potatoes that we got from the grocery store years ago and planted as an experiment. Those purple potatoes really flourished! We continue to get good yields and replant the runts every year. If you’ve never had purple potatoes, they are a visual treat; purple skins, deep purple flesh that stays purple when you cook it. The flavor is on par with a Golden Russet and mashed potatoes end up looking like purple velvet!

Between rainstorms and garden plantings, I took a little adventure on one of my bicycles this year. Bikepacking… the act of packing everything you need for (an off road) adventure in your bicycle and heading into the wilderness. My bike of choice was my FatBike, a bicycle with unusually wide tires. In this case the tires are nearly 5” wide and rides pretty well with between 5 and 8PSI pressure in the tires. This style bike was designed for use over soft ground such as snow or sand, and I have ridden it throughout the winter on snow packed trails. This time I was planning on riding on sand. I packed a rainsuit (of course) a small camp stove, cooking gear, mess kit, water filter, enough food for a week, a sleeping bag, a tent/ hammock (I don’t sleep on the ground anymore) a jacket, spare shoes, hatchet, and numerous personal and small camp items that many might consider luxury items. (cell phone and solar charger, even though there is no signal during my journey, I could take pictures and listen to Audible in bed) All in all, I had about 50 pounds of gear strapped to my 28-pound bike. My adventure started on the beach in front of the Lighthouse at Whitefish Point. I headed west intending to ride the beach of Lake Superior all the way to Grand Marais. The 5” tires with about 5PSI pressure did a fine job in all but the loosest sand. I found that if I kept in the wet sand, just out of the water, I could ride like I was on the road! I found many challenges and found just as many solutions! Just 2 miles west of the Lighthouse I came to an erosion control project with large stones piled high from the top of a 25-foot bluff down to the water and all tied in with a wide piece if chain link fence. I couldn’t go over it or around it, so I backtracked nearly back to the Lighthouse. I could get on top of the beach here and found a road that eventually dead ended so I had to backtrack again to find yet a different road. I was guided by a hand-held GPS that would show trails and roads but I had no way of knowing if the roads are passable or gated on private property. I think it took 3 hours to cover the first 5 miles from my point of origin, but I had peddled more than 15 miles! I passed the Vermillion Lighthouse before stopping for lunch, then continued on to Crisp point without any challenges. I shouldn’t say without any challenge, because challenges presented themselves every minute; as the firm sand turned to golf ball sized beach stone, the challenge was finding a firm pathway through or around the obstacle, but always moving westward. In some areas, the sand texture was not firm, but soft and powdery that even when wet would yield under my wide tires. There were areas where the beach was only 10 feet wide with the water on my right side and a 20-foot-tall sand bluff on my left. The extra high water this year has been causing quite a bit of beach erosion, lapping at that sand bluff and toppling any trees growing on top into a log jam across my path and extending into the water. The challenge here is picking my way through the giant log jam or getting up on top of the bluff to get around it. To get on top would sometimes include riding back East a mile or more until the terrain lent itself to an access point to get on top. There was no problem if it was a bald, grassy dune, but as often as not the bluff top was forested with pine and spruce with more trees toppled in my path as were still vertical.

I took a half hour or so at Crisp Point and climbed the lighthouse and took some pictures. The volunteer staff there does a superb job of keeping the buildings and grounds in immaculate condition. Next stop, the campground at the Mouth of the Two Hearted river, or so I thought. Next challenge in my way was the inlet to Little Lake Harbor. As I approached, I was checking the GPS for an alternate route. The sand bluff on my left was towering more than 100 feet and had been at that height for several miles. There was no way over that! I saw a man with his dog at the water’s edge and he asked me if my bike floated, because that was the only legal way across the inlet, the harbor was ringed with private property and gated roads. It ended up that this man was a caretaker of many of the properties and the only living soul in miles. He gave me directions across several front yards, through private drives, around the harbor and to the beach on the other side. I thanked him profusely and continued. Just 2 more miles of loose rolling golf ball sized beach stone and I was done for the first day! Finally, the Campground at the Mouth of the Two Hearted River. I set up my tent/ hammock, had some dinner and fell asleep listening to the story of the marooned expedition of the ship Endurance near the South Pole in 1915.

Day two started with a little rainstorm, so I waited it out and got a little later start. I was only going as far as Muskellunge Lake State Park, less than 15 miles, but I still ended up with more than 20 miles on the bike. I was really surprised to find agate hunters on some of the most isolated areas on the beach, but probably not as surprised as they were to see me riding toward them, exchanging a few pleasantries, and slowly riding westerly until out of sight. Agate hunters have a lot in common with mushroom hunters. They seem to have their ‘secret’ spots and are reluctant to share those locations.

I approached a populated area of beach just after noon on the second day and thought that I must be close to Deer Park and Muskellunge Lake State Park. A friendly beach walker pointed me to the access trail up to the road and eventually the campground. The skies were clear and the air was warm but breezy after the morning showers. I found a suitable campsite and checked in with the Ranger station at the State Park. My campsite had a clear southward facing view of Muskellunge Lake and most importantly, two suitable trees to support my hammock. With camp set up and lunch in my belly, I took a ride into ‘town’, to the all-in-one Deer Park Store to buy an adult beverage to enjoy with my evening campfire. When I returned to camp the warm breeze had increased to a near-gale force wind and was whipping my hammock like a flag in a storm. No doubt it had the durability to weather such a beating but I was sure there wouldn’t be much sleeping going on with the nylon tent fly slapping in the wind like a drum. I thought that if I re-oriented the hammock to the cross wind that it may deflect the airflow more efficiently. Only after untying one end did I realize my folly, there was no way I could re-tie this giant wind sock to ANY tree in this weather. By now there were whitecaps rolling in from the tiny lake and leaves were being stripped from the trees I was trying to tie to. There was only one thing to do; sacrifice view for functionality. I packed up my stuff and headed to a less stunning campsite, sandwiched between a couple of large campers and a few more trees between me and the lake. At least here I could take refuge from the wind, tie my bed to the trees and enjoy a campfire with a fine view of the Winnebago beside me. I was self-sufficient, I could have camped anywhere, but I chose to pay for the privilege of using a picnic table and a taking a warm shower. You never realize the luxury of having a nice place to sit, until you don’t have one. Not packing a camp chair, I chose to stay in campgrounds just for the picnic tables. Isn’t it strange, how we place priorities? The wind gently rocked my hammock as I listened to another chapter of Shackleton’s Antarctic adventure. The story was riveting and I wanted to listen to more, but the rhythm of nature won over as I was rocked to sleep with the intoxicating smoke from the campfires last embers drifting past my nose.

Day three and on to Grand Marais. I had slept soundly, but after two days on the bike, I did not feel refreshed. Not yet. I started my morning ritual with two ibuprofen tablets and two cups of coffee (Starbucks instant, I don’t just camp, sometimes I glamp!) and a bowl of oatmeal. NOW I feel refreshed! I had done some reconnoitering the previous day and found the beach impassable to the west of the Park. The sand bluff had again grown to 100 feet, the beach was quite narrow, about 15 feet separated the water from the sand wall and 60-foot oaks and pines were scattered like pick-up-sticks everywhere. I found the North Country Trail on top of the bluff and followed it for a mile or so, but it also ended with a precarious drop over the eroded bluff. Mr. Obvious was here last week and nailed a sign on a tree stating that this trail is closed until further notice! DUH! My GPS showed the road was only a quarter mile south of me so I foolishly chose to bushwhack a direct path to the road. It would have been quicker and easier to backtrack, but hey, that’s the way I did it. I followed the road for a few easy miles and hit the beach again after crossing the Blind Sucker River on a real bridge. Any other streams I came across I had to judge if I could just ride through them or I would wade through carrying the bike. The bridge was just another solution to a challenge. The beach is a little more populated as I close in on Grand Marais, the houses here vary in size from small two room hunting/ fishing camps to grandiose three-story log lodges with stunning dormers and rooflines. I wonder how much time these home owners spend here on the shore of Lake Superior. Today is a wonderful day, weather-wise. I would bet there are fewer days like this than cool blustery ones, and I am certain that no one has ever enjoyed the warm soothing waters of this Great Lake. The day progresses without incident until I round an un-named point and am greeted with a log jam that stretches at least a mile. I parked the bike and proceeded a half mile on foot to see if there was a feasible passage through the tangle. Finding none, I consulted the GPS for an alternate route. I spied a dashed line on the screen that most likely indicated a logging road about one quarter mile inland. The high part of the bluff here is only about 12 to 15 feet tall with the top five feet being vertical with a sod overhang. I climbed up to scout out the terrain. There again were more trees lying down than standing up, another challenge. Then there was the hill. Along with the jumbled mess of pick-up-sticks, a small hill of no less that fifty feet of elevation stood between me and the fabled logging road. Half way up the hill I stumbled across a well-defined foot path. The North Country Trail! What a great alternative! I scrambled back down to the beach to retrieve my bike and packs. The first challenge was the top five vertical feet of the sand bluff. Using the ever-plentiful downed trees and a bit of rope from my pack, I hoisted my steed up the sandy slope, rolled and hefted it over the brush and up the hill to the footpath. Again, I reconnoitered on foot before proceeding. The NCT was not promising with many downed trees across it in the first half mile and the likeliness that I would again encounter another eroded drop off as the trail followed the lakeshore. I opted for the logging road. Cresting the top of the wooded hill I was pleasantly surprised that the south facing side was practically void of trees and brush. I could again mount my bike and slalom down the hill to the point on my GPS that promised a road. And the road was there!

In retrospect, I probably should have checked the GPS a little more carefully to see where this road went to. At the moment of discovery, I really didn’t care, it had to go SOMEWHERE, right? When I left the beach, my GPS showed that I was only about 3 miles from my destination, Grand Marais. I peddled along the sandy two track being conscious of the time. It was now 11:30 and the plan was to meet Kris in Grand Marais at 1:00 for lunch and a ride home! The road started to improve as I rode along finally seeing some recent tire tracks. The sun hung on my right shoulder as I realized that I was again heading East! I had no choice, this is where the road goes, the road I had struggled to find. Have you ever been in the middle of nowhere, on a dirt road such as this, and see a new road sign that just looks so out of place that you want to laugh. I found that sign. It read “Welcome to Luce County” Argh! I went so far east that I crossed the county line again! I have no choice but to follow the road. No cool lake breezes here. The sun is high, the sand is dusty and gritty salty sweat is burning my eyes. I was wishing I was still on the beach, but the beach wouldn’t have me. I peddled on. I had made it to the paved portion of the Grand Marais Truck Trail and the houses were more numerous when my phone jingled with a text message. “How far out are you?” Kris was asking. I checked my odometer. I should be seven miles past Grand Marais, having peddled ten more miles with only three to go when I left the beach. Only a mile or two from my destination, I welcomed the chance to stop and text back “See you in 10 minutes”. I found her at the public beach scanning the shore of the harbor when I rode up behind her. Neither of us realized that I would finish my beach ride on the road.

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It’s Your Money

Tue, 25 Apr 2017 11:12:00 GMT

Really, it is! Spend it however you like. Sure you have those pesky monthly obligations; mortgage, car payment, groceries and the like, but remember, YOU decided to buy that car and finance at XX.xx% rate. YOU promised to make those monthly payments. YOU can decide to buy those expensive cuts of imported Tibetan Musk Ox, or those pricy prepared dinners, or even those nights when you chose to eat at a restaurant. OR you can decide to buy a whole chicken, spend a few minutes to cut it up and wrap it yourself. It all has the same outcome, you get to eat dinner. You can spend a lot, or you can spend a little. It’s your money, spend it how you like.

Same with the car; eighty grand for a brand new, fully decked out, four- door dually one ton diesel pick-up, OR something a little more economical, like a used sedan for one tenth of the cost of the truck. It all depends on your needs! If you are the guy who hauls thoroughbred race horses, you can justify the truck. If you need basic transportation to drive six miles to work, alone, maybe the truck is overkill. But Oh Boy, the guys at work will be IMPRESSED! It’s your money, spend it how you like.

Some people think that money gives power. I say money breeds responsibility. Without the latter, you will soon not have the former. A lot of emotions can be related to money, or the want of it… pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, and sloth , come to think of it, those are the seven deadly sins! Also, known as the capitol vices. However, another person may show other traits if bestowed a gift of a large sum of $$. Traditionally, the seven Christian virtues or heavenly virtues combine the four classical cardinal virtues of prudence, justice , temperance , and courage (or fortitude) with the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity . (Wikipedia) Do you own the money or does your money own you? It’s all up to you! It’s your money.

Most people don’t realize just how much power is in their dollar. With your dollar, you can sit with the board of directors at any business you can imagine and cast a vote on how business is to be handled. You vote with your dollars and boy do they (board of directors) know it! They want you to vote in their favor, vote with your dollars, one vote per dollar. When I was a kid, mom voted an awful lot for the Rudyard Co-op store. Once a month, or so, we could go to the Soo and vote for Kresge’s, Scott’s and Woolworths. But then some new stores started showing up on the south side of the Soo and people started voting for the new stores, that means a vote against Kresge’s, Scott’s and Woolworths. In a sense, those stores were voted out of town. It seems the voting public didn’t want or need them anymore. It looks like people stopped voting for K-Mart, Sears, and Penney’s too. That’s a shame. A new store comes to town and three old ones go away.

Just like the political campaigns (cam-PAINS) to get your vote, the big stores do an awful lot of flashy color advertising to get your vote (dollar), and they offer a lot of product choices, with more campaigns to get your vote on every aisle end cap, video screens on the product displays with a well-dressed actor touting the virtues of the product while convincing you that you just cannot go home without it! (whatever it really is, I guess I just NEED it) It’s your money, spend it how you like.

While on your supply runs, and doing all that exhausting voting, don’t forget to save a few votes for some of the local businesses at home. The board of directors needs more voting members voting FOR local businesses. This is our community and it would be a shame to see any of our few businesses go the way of Kresge’s, Scott’s and Woolworths. But it’s your money, spend it how you like.

I showed you how I vote, now I want to talk about the CREEP! No, it doesn’t slither out of the swamp on a foggy evening, I’m talking about the financial creep. I know you know what I’m talking about. It’s one of those “three months free, then just $29.99 a month” deals. You really meant to cancel after the ‘free’ trial period, but you just forgot. That was two years ago. $719.76! It just creeped up on you. We looked at all the creep in our lives; satellite radio, two of them (the second one was half price with a two-year contract) We sometimes listen to satellite radio on trips, hmmm CANCELLED! Gotomypc, a seldom used remote access program with a monthly fee CANCELLED! We took a good look at the satellite TV bill, with a few add-ons we made over the years (a customer for 19 years, we were told) CANCELLED! We mostly watch the local channels, anyway. We cast a vote for a ChannelMaster antenna. The more we look, the more we are finding CREEP in our lives. Don’t even get me started on my cell phone bill! I figure its high time to get back in charge of all the votes in my wallet, at least those few votes left in my wallet. It’s my money, I’ll spend how I like.

The “Professionals Who Care” at Tri-County Motors have begun a campaign of digital inspections. Yup, now we do inspections with an iPad in hand. With digital inspections and a tablet, we can scan the vehicle ID number, use a checklist making sure not to ‘pencil whip’ all the pass or fail boxes, and generally be more accurate about findings. For instance, we will report tire wear in xx/32”, brake shoe wear in millimeters, so we can better compare to factory minimum specs. Also with the tablet, we can take photographs of problem areas, then print, email, or text the finished report to you. The whole point of the digital inspection is to keep on top of problem spots or wear areas BEFORE they become a breakdown issue and cause you to call us for an unexpected repair. With a digital inspection, we can supply a report and if needed an estimate on future services. The common digital inspections; the ones we always do with an oil change, or alignment are always free. The more thorough inspections, such as annual inspections or a brake inspection with a tear-down have a nominal charge. With this information, you can be in charge of your money. With this information, you can see the CREEP coming. It’s your money, spend it how you want!

Tom

The post It’s Your Money appeared first on Tri County Motors .

People who care

Tue, 17 Jan 2017 20:37:00 GMT

People Who Care

When I was young, I would ask mom for permission for, oh let’s say I wanted some ice cream. She had two standard replies… “I suppose” and “I don’t care”. So I would scoop up a meager heaping helping of about a half-gallon and top it with whatever was in the fridge, usually strawberry jam and/ or chocolate syrup. “Whoa there buckaroo” (she never called me buckaroo, but it sounds good here!) “how come so much?” “This is how much I wanted” I replied, “besides, you said you didn’t care”. Well, mom DID care, even though she said she didn’t. Grown-ups get very confusing to a 10-year-old boy. 50 years later I still don’t have them figured out; but now I don’t understand my 10-year-old grandson either. People (generally) don’t say what they mean, or do what they say! All my life people have said that they don’t care about this or that, but it ends up, they really DO care. On the flip side, some say they will take care of some problem or other, but never lift a finger to do anything about it.

I’m really not very mystified about this trait of human behavior, we are ALL human and this is how we behave. I try to associate with those that DO care. For some strange reason I still get a feeling of great satisfaction when I finish a project, whether it be fixing a dripping faucet or replacing a diesel turbocharger. I have been a fixer all my life. Sometimes it just takes me a while to warm up to a project, study it from all angles, calculate the possible outcomes, and probable success rate. Other times I just jump into the project and figure out the problems as I go along. Typically, you will find me using the strategy of the latter. It usually gets done quicker that way if done at all.

A long term project I embarked on in 2002, was serving on the board of directors for the Rudyard Area Community Foundation, of which now I am vice president. What? You didn’t know that Rudyard has a Community Foundation? Shame on us! I guess we keep kind of a low profile. Let me bring you up to speed. The short version of RACF’s mission statement goes; “to provide scholarships for our graduating seniors and to enhance the school curriculum and educational programs by attracting private funds.” Now let me be clear that the RACF is not affiliated with nor is it governed by the Rudyard Area School board. The RACF board distributes and reviews all scholarship applications and grant requests, which have strict guidelines and monetary caps. The board decides where the money goes. We are managing funds from several individuals, families and organizations and have developed endowed accounts where the principal is invested and only the interest is used for scholarships. These accounts are perpetual and in theory will outlast you and I. Sometimes the investment vehicles do not perform as expected and the available funds for scholarships is less than expected. We are still able to award scholarships, but just not as many or maybe for a lower monetary amount. The board has held fundraisers to help offset these shortfalls, such as the annual golf scramble and the “Yoopers Have Talent” show in February.

We are now seeking “ 50 People Who Care ”. Golf scrambles, talent shows and bake sales only go so far in a perpetual project like this. Credit goes to Tom Spencer for presenting this idea to our board. We are looking for 50 People Who Care . If you are one of the people who think that Rudyard is a pretty special place to grow up in, if you think that our young people are the future of our community and our nation, and if you think that you can afford $20.00 a month to help perpetuate these ideas, then you are probably one of the People Who Care . We thought long and hard about this project and came up with this; you can give more, but in 6 months it may be a hardship. Twenty dollars a month should be affordable for most established households. $20.00 a month is easier to part with than $240.00 a year, but yet, it is the same amount! If you are like me, I can think of ways I squander (well maybe not squander, let me use the phrase “spend frivolously”) money every week; lunch for two at the café, dinner for one, a bottle of wine, gas for a day trip to Tahquamenon Falls… You get my point. Most people will not miss $20.00 from their monthly budget, but yet, will make a HUGE impact to the RACF goals. If we can get 50 people to come together and help fund this project we can help our young adults get a foothold in the world of higher education.

I think Rudyard is a pretty special place to grow up. If you grew up here in the 60’s, you might remember catching suckers in the Pine River, playing on tractors at McDowell Equipment, sliding down the old fire escape at the old brick school building, hanging a rope swing under the train bridge, scavenging through the sawdust pile at the ‘Toy Factory”, spending your $.25 allowance (yes, twenty-five cents) on a bottle of pop AND a candy bar. Many of you remember drinking a Coke while sitting on the pop cooler at Malaski’s gas station. Sadly, I gave that old cooler away years ago, and it has moved to points unknown since then. My point is that we often made our own entertainment, and we knew how to do it. In Rudyard we are not distracted by big city entertainment; theaters, arcades and malls, and we don’t have the gangs, thugs and crime or pollution that goes along with it. I think that Rudyard is still pretty special, but is facing some modern challenges. I am positive that I can help find 50 People Who Care , who want to help the youth of our community, the future of our community. I am pretty sure that Rudyard will never be the sprawling metropolis of Detroit, but I don’t think anyone who lives here wants that. I think that Rudyard is successful in what it does best; support a thriving community of caring people who value this quality of life. If you want to be one of the 50 People Who Care , give me a call. I’ll get you set up.

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If you have stopped in at Tri-County Motors in the last few months, you may have been greeted by a new smile from behind the counter. Jacques DeMolen has joined our team as Service Advisor. He is the man who will listen to your automotive concerns, make appointments, write estimates, and convey the messages to the technical crew. Jacques is a quick learner and a leader at the same time. I never could figure out how to use NAPA’s on line scheduler, (it’s been available since 2001) so I just used a large desk blotter. For 38 years I have kept track of schedules, appointments, and phone numbers on that big old blotter. Now it’s gone. Jacques is forcing this old dog to ‘go-to’ the computer to see the schedule. I guess it’s better, but the service counter just looks naked without it!

Jacques grew up in the Soo, but now lives in Brimley with his wife and twin 3-year-old sons. Like most Yoopers he enjoys anything that gets him outside and in the woods or on the water; snowmobiles, 4 wheelers, hunting and fishing. Jacques last worked for Schwans Home Delivery as manager of the Rudyard depot. His work schedule started at 3:00AM in the deep freezer (-28*F) sorting product and loading the delivery trucks for the drivers’ daily route. He says he really enjoys sleeping in until 5:30 or 6:00 for his new job. Jacques really enjoys talking to people and taking care of their needs. If you are in the area, stop by and introduce yourself, and remember the ‘s’ in Jacques is silent.