Some wee little things in Grandma's Afternoons

Friday, October 17, 2014

The Chippewa Falls

Our adventures in RVing today took us down many new roads

Travelled Roads


We knew it was going to be a long drive from Sault Ste Marie.

We prepared our crock pot supper early and hit the road.


thinly sliced roast beef marinated with sliced onions and potatoe garnish

Fixen Supper

 

I got a lot of knitting done, I'm making a pair of leg warmers. Do you remember when leg and arm warmers were in style? I think it was around the time I thougth I was cool riding my big wheel down the steep hill with no hands, yup we needed those leg warmers to keep the pavement from skinning our legs.. I don't want to say I'm in style or that leg warmers are coming back but I do need a pair because The French Gardener drivers with the cold air on and instead of us fighting over East or West of the dial I decided leg warmers were the way to go.

Leg Warmers

 

I'll post a picture of them finished.

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Chippewa Falls


We pulled over as Master Braxton warranted a walk and just so happens a path lead us to these falls. Returning we noticed a sign the Chippawa Falls. I started singing Gordon Lighfoots song The Edmund Fitzgerald.

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Our next stop was a look out on the left side of the highway and why not get out and stretch our legs again as we were feeling cramped from so much driving.

A lonely plaque to the right as we drove in the parking lot stood where I walked on over to have a peek.

Edmund Fitzgerald Sank

 

The plaque reads

On the night of November 9th, 1975, in a

wicked gale, the Edmund Fitzgerald, a 222

metre (729 foot) long iron ore carrier, sank with all

29 hands beyond the point to the left, 30 km from where you're standing.

How's that for coincidence?

The Lyrics

"The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald"


The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee

The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead

When the skies of November turn gloomy

With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more

Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty

That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed

When the gales of November came early


The ship was the pride of the American side

Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin

As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most

With a crew and good captain well seasoned

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms

When they left fully loaded for Cleveland

Then later that night when the ship's bell rang

Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?


The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound

When the wave broke over the railing

And every man knew, as the captain did too

'Twas the witch of November come stealin'

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait

When the gales of November came slashin'

When afternoon came it was freezing rain

In the face of a hurricane west wind


When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck

Sayin' "Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya"

 

At seven PM a main hatchway caved in

He said, "Fellas, it's been good to know ya"

The captain wired in he had water comin' in

And the good ship and crew was in peril

And later that night when his lights went out of sight

Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald


Does anyone know where the love of God goes

When the waves turn the minutes to hours?

The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay

If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her

They might have split up or they might have capsized

They may have broke deep and took water

And all that remains is the faces and the names

Of the wives and the sons and the daughters


Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings

In the rooms of her ice-water mansion

Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams

The islands and bays are for sportsmen

And farther below, Lake Ontario

Takes in what Lake Erie can send her

And the iron boats go as the mariners all know

With the gales of November remembered


In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed

In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral

The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times

For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee

Superior, they said, never gives up her dead

When the gales of November come early

 

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Onto Wawa

 

 

and the big goose, don't be frightened, she's stuffed.

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Next stop

White River

Home to Winnie the original black bear


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It gets dark here early in the North so not having phone service all day should tell you we are out in the wildnerness somewhere almost at Thunder Bay.

We pulled over had our clock pot supper


 

I made a caesar, we played backgammon and then watched two eppisodes of Orange is the new B



It is going to rain sometime in the middle of the night and with the windows closed I can hear the crickets outside, a few rustling leaves and the odd 18 wheeler trying to make the hill in the background.

If you are reading this it is because we made it to Thunder Bay and got posted,

Until the next adventure,

Cindy

BTW The French Gardener is blogging over at

peiblog.ca (holidays from PEI) and could use a visit.

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1 comment :

Janus said...

Looks like a delicious dinner and drink. I'd like some. I remember playing the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald all through my one year of university. Probably drove my student neighbours nuts with it.