CHAPTER 3: GARDEN
PENINSULIA. Hiding out
The wind had
remained constant out of the North and built to twenty knots during the night.
By zero six hundred hours the Leading Lady had cleared Poverty Island Passage
(appropriately named for the Garden Peninsula in Michigan's U.P). Jack was at
the helm and had to harden up to 315 degrees which was as hard on the wind as
she could sail. " Hey guys, we are coming into Green Bay, why doesn't
somebody start some coffee. We are gonna have to start tacking up Big Bay De
Noc in an hour or so". Annie G stuck her head through the companion way,
"hi ya there big boy" she said " you doing ok"? "I'm driving
a sail boats so what do you think". "Guess that answers my
question". "You still love me"? "I worship the ground you
walk on baby". "Yea, would you eat the forbidden fruit for me".
"As long as its fermented..... Speaking of which, why don't you throw a
shot of Baileys in that coffee". "coming right up sweetheart".
Annie G poured a couple cups of coffee, both with a hefty shot of Baileys Irish
Cream and went up to the cockpit to join Jack. "Here's your coffee
sweetie, how long you been up". "I came up and relieved Geno at about
o three hundred, it was an awesome night sail". "Any northern
lights" she asked. "No, but I would love see them again, it's been at
least six years. Remember that night we were anchored on South Manitou Island
and they were dancing across the horizon in those huge waves"? "Sure
do, I remember the awesome colors too. The usual green and blue, but I remember
yellow and red....more like pink.....and violet, I'd sure as hell never seen
pink and violet northern lights before....haven't since ether".
"Maybe we'll get lucky and get a good show on this trip". "Hope
so, I did see a pretty cool meteor shower. At least a dozen in two hours, a
couple tailers that hung for several seconds". Jack was relaxed and feeling
the first bit of serenity in years. Annie G could sense the difference in just
two days. His tension was starting to unwind and his night watch on the boat
had been the first three hour stretch that his thoughts hadn't drifted to the
storm clouds that were brewing around our nations Capitol. "Should I wake
Geno up"? Annie G asked. "Na, let him sleep, he was on watch from
sunset till o three hundred. Besides, I know him, he'll be awake automatically
when we need him". "I'll take another Baileys and coffee
please". "Got it babe".
Just as Jack
predicted, Geno popped out of the forward hatch to rig the anchor gear as they
came about on the final approach to Fayette harbor. After that, he ran back to
the cockpit to furl the jib. Jack continued to turn the helm to starboard as
they rounded down to a broad reach with just the main sail alone. They were
still cruising at seven knots and had a few hundred yards to their favorite
spot to drop anchor. At twenty yards out Geno dropped the main and coasted down
wind till they passed their spot at which Jack swung the helm hard to
starboard, pulling a upturn into the wind. Geno ran forward and dropped the
anchor. The boat drifted back, Geno payed out the anchor road, the anchor set
and Geno cleated off the line when they had reached the proper scope. "All
set Bubba" Geno yelled " The Eagle has landed" yelled Jack,
which was their tradition whenever they came to a dock or anchorage. It was o
nine hundred hours (9:00 AM, on the boat they always used military time just
because that was what Geeze had taught them). "Must be noon
somewhere" Geno said "let's have a cocktail". "How about a
bloody"? The booze was certainly having a soothing effect on Jack's nerves
along with the natural soothing effects of being on a sailboat. Of course he
recognized this and had no problem with it, in fact he was totally willing to
get and remain somewhat shit faced for as long as he could. "Remember to
use lots of lime and lots of Tabasco".
After the
third bloody, bacon, eggs, toast, and grapefruit Jack was climbing into the
dingy with his gear to head out to the drop off north of the harbor entrance.
"Think I'll see if I can go get us some lake trout for dinner".
"Hang on for a second" Geno yelled "I'll go with you". Geno
grabbed his gear, put nine Coronas in a cooler and climbed in the dingy. "
let's go". "Remember when we caught those Brownies up north with the
Geeze". " yea, that was awesome". As kids they use to catch
brown trout in September in Fayette all the time. Geeze would make "trout
fingers" which were simply filets cut into strips, dipped in a mixture of
condensed milk and beer, breaded with drakes, breadcrumbs and cayenne pepper
and fried in peanut oil. "Let's make trout fingers for dinner"
suggested Jack "you got all the necessities"? "Actually...I
believe I do. I'm sure I have the Drakes, and canned mike, don't go anywhere
with out that stuff......gotta check on the breadcrumbs, don't have the peanut
oil but I'm sure we have some chipotle olive oil that will do the
trick......might not have enough beer though" he threw in just to remain
the smart ass that he so enjoyed being. They trolled along the drop off where
the depth went from about forty feet to two hundred. Most years it took a few
weeks more for the trout and salmon to come into shallower water but it had
been an extremely cold summer and autumn type weather was occurring a full
month early. For the past twenty years, climate change had really made the
weather patterns fickle; sometimes warmer, sometimes cooler, sometimes dry,
sometimes extremely wet. The problem, it seemed, was that it was usually to an
extreme one way or the other, and rarely constant. Geno said that the weather
patterns these days made sailing "a real bitch" because it changed
all the time and was ether ninety five degrees and no wind or fifty five and
blowing stink. "Of course if it was easy, we'd have the women do it"
he use to say.....because he was not yet married and could occasionally get
away with being a chauvinist red neck. Of course he realized that Annie G had
spent her adult life living aboard research vessels in some of the most
treacherous waters in the world and could kick any mans ass on a boat of any
kind........and he totally loved that about her. "So what he heck is going
on in your so called professional life"? Geno finally asked when they had
gotten everything set and were just coasting along the lime stone bluffs of
Garden Peninsula.
"To
tell you the truth buddy, I'm not exactly sure the hell is going on at the
moment". "You gotta be kidding me? I mean what the fuck, you always
know what's going on.....I'm the one who never knew what was going on....you're
the one that always KNEW exactly what was going on". "We'll not this
time buddy boy. I had a pretty good handle on things for quite a while; always a
step ahead of of most of the members of Congress and most of their aids who are
arguably smarter and more agile than their bosses. But for the past three
months, I can't seem to get a feel on things". Geno could sense Jack's
confusion and he knew it was real. For thirty two years Geno had never seen
Jack be puzzled about anything. He knew that Jack was endowed with intuition
that was unsurpassed and it had simply, never let him down. "So paint me
the big picture, are the Trad's up to some clandestine BS again"? The Party
of Traditional American Values or Trad's as they were known, had not been
successful in putting a person in the White house since their inception in
2020, never the less they still held one hundred and twenty one seats in the
house (28%)and seventeen seats in the senate (17%). Most of their districts
were evangelical Bible Belt areas in the south, Midwest, plains states, and big
coal mining states like West Virginia. The New Democratic Republican Party
(DRP) or Drips as they were known held two hundred and one house seats (46%)
and fifty two senate. The Democratic Socialist's held the remaining one hundred
and thirteen house seats and thirty seven senate. The Drips held the obvious
majority but since they were comprised of members of both formor political
parties and they could swing ether way depending on the issue at hand and
whether on not there was a little something in it for them. Also the President,
Dr. Sarah Jane Kelly, was a socialist and the progressive liberal agenda could
be pursued because enough house and and senate drips were happy to join arms
with the President.
"As far
as I'm concerned the Trad's are always up to some clandestine BS, but I can't
seem to get a vibe out of anybody I talk to, I mean its weird....it's like
anybody that has anything to do with the People for Peaceful and Proper Energy
Production, which is a total fucking joke by the way, just doesn't even send me
a clue. I ALWAYS use to be able to sense what those assholes were thinking..and
even if I couldn't get a grasp on exactly what was going down at least I could
sense when one of um was lying. Now I get zip, ziltch, nada, nothing....there's
just nothing fucking there". "Wow man, are you losing your MoJo or
something". "I don't know......maybe, but it seems to me like its
just those guys...like they're blocking any kind of brain wave
transmission....it's like they're god damn robots or something".
"Maybe they are" Geno said jokingly "they're the Stepford wives
of politics". "No kidding man, they're all like clones of Doug
Netermyre from Animal House". "Yea....and you are John Baluchi".
"Well, I guarandambdoubletee you that I totally plan to drink like
John". "Dude...he's dead". "Exactly". " here have
a Corona....oh, first, better take a hit off this bottle of Patron.....here's
the lime". "That's what I love about you Geno, just like a fucking
boy scout ...always prepared" Jack took a healthy swig of tequila and
chased it down with a Corona and a bit of salty lime. "Do you think they
are actually hiding something big" asked Geno. " Yes I do, I just
don't know what the heck it is". "Holy shit I got one on" Jack
announced as he pulled his rod upward and back with a swift motion setting the
hook. It was a nice eight pound brown trout that Jack had inside the dingy
within about three minutes. "Ah ha....dinner"!!! "Yea, for
me...what are you guys having"? Was Geno's comment as he casted back out.
"Guess we best be catching some more.....and I feel a ten pounder just
dying to take my bait". "Ok, buddy boy, he who catches the biggest
brown, get his rounds bought at Shirley's .......ALL Night". "Pretty
bold bet for a dude with no money......and if I remember correctly, you still
have an outstanding tab at Shirley's". "Hey...not fair to assign my
poor dead old man's debt to me!! Besides.....as I recall, you were responsible
for quite a bit of that tab yourself". "No way dude....you inherit
his assets and his liabilities....for example, you got his boat, sooooooo you
get his bar tab as well". They both laughed their asses off thinking about
Geno's dad "The Geeze" and his rather uncanny ability to walk into a
bar miles away from his home, without a dime in his pocket, with two teenaged
boys and still get served liquor all night long and leave totally blasted.
"I guess you got me there, you think Shirley remembers that"?
"Are you kiddin me" Jack was shouting. "This is the Garden
Peninsula ....land of game poachers, lumber jacks, and outlaws......nobody EVER
forgets a bar tab". "Ok., that's it then...we're going to Shirley's
.......to pay off Geeze's ten year old bar tab and catch a humongous
stupor". "Sounds like a beautiful plan my man".
After
catching two more nice brown trout, consuming three more Corona's each,
accompanied by the requisite tequila shot they headed back to the Lady for a swim
and dinner. "Hey fellas...looking for a good time" Annie G yelled as
they approached in the dingy. "You got some more girls in there" Geno
replied. "What...you think I'm not enough woman for the both of you sailor
boys". "I'd never say that". "How about performing some
sexual favors for two drunken sailors while we filet these fish".
"How bout I just filet the fish and you two bozos go for a swim".
"I don't know...do you think you're woman enough to clean these big ol
fish"! "My dear, you seem to have forgotten that I have spent the
last six years on a marine research vessel. I have seen, cleaned, cut open,
eaten and dissected more creatures from the sea than you two boys will ever
even imagine". "I suppose you boys want them cut in strips to make
trout fingers"? "How did you ever guess". "I'll clean them,
you cook them". "You got a deal baby". Annie G went to work
filleting the trout as Jack and Geno started to climb the mast in order to dive
off the second spreader which was about forty feet off the water. This had
become somewhat of a ritual and usually involved a back flip at the very least.
Jack pulled off a prefect backflip compelling Geno to try a one and a half
which he accomplished with less than prefect precision. He got a bit of a sting
from not getting around fully in the second flip. "Ouch, that really
fucking hurt". "Losing you touch". "Oh, you are such a
douch bag". Even though it had been a chilly summer and Fayette was well
north of the forty fifth parallel, the water was still relatively warm. After
their swim and a dinner of trout fingers and French bread with olive oil and
crushed garlic washed down with a healthy dose of Makers Mark, they all loaded
into the dingy for their planned sojourn to Shirley's. "I hope you brought
that stash of cash, I know you always keep taped under the nav table for
emergencies". Said Jack as they started the three mile hike to Shirley's.
"So, you qualify paying off the Geeze's ten year old bar tab as an
emergency". "No.....but if you can't buy me a dozen rounds, that's an
emergency". "Yea, yea I brought the cash, so let's just hope Shirley
doesn't charge us interest". "I suspect she'll let us slide
considering the circumstances.... I'm guessing she'll be pretty bummed to hear
about the Geeze". Geeze had died during the winter of 2022-23 just three
and a half months after his last visit to Shirley's. He had promised to come
back in May to repay his tab, but had died in an avalanche skiing the back
country in British Columba ten years ago. Geno and Jack both missed him so much
it hurt but they were happy that he had died doing something he loved. He was
getting a bit slower in the backcountry but he was not the type to live in a
retirement community and give up doing the things he loved.
Geeze had
been traveling to the tiny town of Blue River B.C. In the North Thompson River
valley at the confluence of the Blue and North Thompson Rivers smack between
the Caribou and the Monashee mountain ranges, since he was twenty years old. He
had done some river guide work taking rafting and fly fishing trips out of Blue
River, Kamloops and Jasper. In the winter he had worked for various back
country skiing outfits as a guide and eventually as a guide for a fairly large
Heli- ski outfit called Mike Wiggle. When he died, he had been skiing an area
called the Mud Drainage in the Monashees about twenty kilometers north east of
Blue River. In spite of its rather ignominious name the Mud Drainage was an
area of vast summits and breath taking beauty. He and his favorite long time ski
partner Freddy had bummed a ride on one of Mike's new Bell Lab Solar Turbine
Mark IV helicopters to Base Camp six otherwise known as Augerhorn Cabin. The
cabin was at twenty four hundred meters on a small relatively flat area know as
a bench at the bottom of the Augerhorn glacier. It was perched on a rock
outcrop, ten meters above the surrounding landscape and stood a full twelve
meters high with three levels of living space. It was constructed entirely out
of Douglas Fur logs harvested from the surrounding area and flown to the
construction site by Helicopter back in the nineteen seventies. The term
"cabin" felt somewhat misleading to Geeze and Freddy since they had
both logged many a night in various cabins and yurts in Utah, Montana, and the U.P.
of Michigan during their lives and considered the Augerhorn Cabin akin to the
Ritz. As long as you had the right selection and quantity of supply's, a stay
at the Augerhorn was far from ruffling it. The foundation was poured a meter
thick on solid bedrock and at four meters high had tons of room for storage of
supply's, ski, climbing , and safety gear, two battery powered snowmobiles, a
vault with an assortment of hunting rifles, and a nineteen sixties U.S. Army
Howitzer used for avalanche control. The outer dimensions at nine by nine
meters, giving slightly less than a thousand square feet per floor with three
floors of living space was like a palace to Geeze. Heat was provided by a
Norwegian style wood burning soapstone stove that had a radiant stone duct
assemble to the upper floors and doubled as a cook stove. A solar powered heat
plant had been added after 2016, as had a "smoke scrubber" which was
a simple solar powered device that removed any residual Co2 molecules from the
wood burning exhaust. Water was diverted from a spring fed stream that
essentially ran through the cabin and was heated by the soapstone stove and
pumped through the kitchen and bath rooms by hand pumps. The lower level
contained the kitchen, bath rooms, and soaker tub, the second level was living
and sleeping space, the third level was all bunk room with sleeping
arrangements for over a dozen guests.
In the month
of February 2023, Geeze and Freddy had intended to spend at least a month
hiking, camping, and skiing in the Augerhorn Glacier and surrounding area. They
had planned to take the four day ski in from Blue River, but then, Mike offered
them a lift, thus saving them gallons of sweat from days of climbing with their
Telemark gear and climbing skins. Geeze, unlike many of his peers, regarded the
climb as a necessary evil with the decent being the reward. He just didn't see
the wisdom of climbing to the top of a mountain unless you got to ski down.
They had enjoyed four weeks of awesome skiing with a couple three to five day
trips to some nearby peaks and three major dumps of over one and a half meters
each. One of the storms was so severe that they just had to hunker down in the
cabin for two days. When it finally cleared, Mike showed up in a Heli and said
"I thought you guys might like to take some steep, deep, and long runs
after being cooped up for two days". They spent the day making fresh
tracks down some of the most extreme faces in the Monashees in the best
conditions they had ever seen. Geeze had actually said "that was simply
the most awesome day of skiing I have ever had.......I could die tomorrow, and
be one completely satisfied and happy dude"!! It turned out to be a
prophetic statement considering that he lost his life in an avalanche less than
a week later.
It was a
warm evening with the smell of "summer woods" mixed with Lake
Michigan in the air as Jack, Annie G and Geno hiked to Shirley's along "
11 Lane" which was still one of the few payed roads in the bottom half of
the Garden Peninsula; paved road being a relative term since the asphalt from
the nineteen eighties had mostly deteriorated to what could be referred to as
gravel and was only about twelve feet wide to begin with. Needless to say, it
wasn't exactly on the beaten track. Jack suddenly felt a Pavlovian response when
he spotted the lights of Shirley's in the distance. It was a mixed feeling
combining the Oder of tequila, the warm and soothing effect that came on
quickly, with the less than enjoyable effects the day after his first visit to
Shirley's. There were a total of three trucks parked outside, all dating back
to pre two thousand and with homemade, jury rigged conversion kits. Most
"Youppers" were adamantly opposed to buying anything, much less new
vehicles, so most had converted their old trucks and snowmobiles to alternate
energy sources in their own garages. Geeze use to say that if there were three
things you didn't need to worry over about people in the U.P. it was taking
care of their trucks, snowmobiles, and guns. Shirley was a stout woman, of
Scandinavian decent who took shit from no one and was typical of the area. She
was in her mid seventies and had seen her share of roughness. She had been
married four or five times (no one really knew) and lived by herself in a cabin
about a quarter mile down a two track from the Bar surrounded by hardwoods and
on the shore on Big Bay De Noc. Although she was no longer married, she did
enjoy the company of gentlemen and certainly was not shy about taking home
whatever straggler happened to by left at closing time, which was completely
variable depending on her disposition at the time.
"Well
I'll be dipped in batter and fried in bacon fat" she exclaimed as Jack,
Annie G and Geno came in the door. "Just look at da too of you boys...ell
you look all growed up and like da big shots from da city dar". "No
need to worry about that Shirley, we're just the same scruffy boys you always
thought of us as". "Except now, we can drink more" Geno added.
"Well, dars nobody gonna be drinking nudin widoud dat od man off yours
paying me dat hundred he owes me......where is da Geeze anyway"?
"That's the bad news Shirley, he died in an avalanche ten years ago".
"Oh shit, I'm sorry to hear dat boys, you know how I loved your od
man". "Yea, and he loved you too, I'm pretty sure coming to visit you
was the main reason we sailed in here all those times when we were kids".
"Well, lets drink to da man, I say......what ll it be den, da legal stuff
or da special stuff". It had long been the practice to distill ones own
alcohol in the Garden Peninsula and Shirley had perfected the process beyond
measure. She made what Geeze had referred to as "the sweetest, smoothest,
strongest, sour mash whiskey in the entire fucking universe". "Oh, I
am pretty sure this calls for the special stuff" Jack confirmed. "You
know, I tink, I got some stuff dats over twelve years od down in da cellar
dare.....I'm gonna go grab it". When Shirley returned with two dusty
bottles and poured hefty shots all around, she finally said "and who's dis
pretty young ding, yous two boys got wid you"? "Shirley, this is
Annie G, Annie G, this is the world famous Shirley. "So what's a girl like
you doing wid da likes of dees two anyway"? "Just a sucker for
drunken sailors I guess" Annie G replyed. "Ohh..dat I hear loud and
clear...you are a woman after my own heart. If dees guys weren't charity cases,
we would even care bout dem. Day tink days smart boys but day don't know fuck
all when it comes right down to it". "Shirley, you are a woman of
wisdom" Annie G said as she quickly sipped down her snifter of Shirley's
excellent whiskey. They sat at the bar, talking and drinking for hours. They
reminisced past adventures, and Geno and Jack told Shirley what they had both
been up to for the past ten years. Shirley couldn't help but detect the slight
bit of tension in Jack's demeanor when at last she asked "so Jack, what da
fuck is going on wid you anyway"? Jack explained that the shit had been
hitting the fan back in D.C. And that somehow he felt mixed up in some sort of
clandestine conspiracy. He allowed as how this was far from the first time he
had been caught up in a political shit bomb, but that this time he got the
feeling that somthing big was happening and whatever it was, it was defiantly
not good. The real difference was that with past disasters he had pretty much
been able to figure what the heck was going to happen or at least what people
had in mind just from talking to them. This time, the ability to "get a
feel" of the situation and let his natural instinct figure things out had
eluded him. It had gotten to a point at which Jack got scared, so he had
bolted, and here he was. "You know, for the first time in six years, I got
freaked out and actually had the feeling that someone was after me. I had a
meeting with these PPPEP reps, or at least that's who they were supposed to be,
and I got this totally scary vibe...like they were defiantly not who they said
they were, and that they intended to do me no good. We have been lobbying for
the Global Energy Cooperation Act (GECA) for over a year now and it's had it's
share of resistance and the Trad's from the PTAV have been pushing hard for an
act to finish a formula they think will actually reverse the non combustability
of oil and reconstitute it for use. Depending on who you talk to, they claim to
ether have the formula already....or be really close. For a while, this all
just seemed like the same old political/ corporate bull shit, but after that
meeting, I got the distinct impression that something larger and more sinister
was going on. I figured it was better for me to hide out for a while and try to
enjoy myself than to end up missing, or dead, over something that I really
don't understand yet. So, I leave D.C. By car so nobody can locate a record of
where I'm going, I don't tell anyone that I'm leaving or anyone that I'm coming
here. I contact Annie G when I get back to our old cottage on Lake Leelanau and
she happens to be home and comes over, then we call Geno the next day and hop
on the Leading Lady and sail across the lake and anchor in Fayette harbor early
this morning.....that's about the extent of it". "Oh shit" said
Shirley, bouncing the palm of her hand off her forehead. "What" said
Jack. "I don't know, but da odher day, dees two guys come in..... And day
don't exactly look local, if ya know what I mean....well, I don't tink any ting
about dis cause I figure days just tourists or some ting. Day was drivin dis
new truck which I notice when day pulls up, and days dressed a bit too fancy
for dees parts ya know. Days making small talk ya know and days askin bout
visitors and such. Like I says, I don't tink too much bout it, but den, I'm
sure I seen dar truck cruse by again da next day or so....seemed kinna funny at
da time ahh, but den I just figure days city boys looking for some solitude".
"You gotta be fucking kidding me" blurted Geno as he set down his
glass..."you actually have spooks tailing you"? "Let's not jump
to conclusions quite yet" Jack replied "Shirley, any chance these
guys were just hunters, scoping out deer hunting spots"? "Could be
Jacky boy, but I seen plenty of dem guys and dees guy .........I don know......
Der was somthing different bout dem ahh". "Oh, that is just way too
far fetched" announced Jack "if these guys were actually after
me....how in the hell would they know to come here? I mean, I have left no
trail whatsoever; I have no tracking or location info out there; my personal
frequency wave is disabled; Sam and Ron are the only ones who have access to my
data and there is no location data......I didn't even mention what direction I
was going....for all they know I could br in Timfuckingtoo"!!!!!
"Still" said Geno. "Still what? There is no fucking way some
spooks could find me here". "Ok, just suppose that your feelings are
accurate, and that some big thing is going to go down. Then suppose that
whoever has a vested interest would naturally have substantial power, money,
resources, and connections. You with me so far? Good, then, it's not much of a
stretch to assume that whoever it is could do some basic research and make some
educated guesses regarding where they might find you. I'm guessing that your
old cottage on Lake Leelanau would be at the top of the list.....now, this
place here might be a bit farther down the list but ill bet it's on there. It's
fair to assume that the more motivated someone is about finding you, the
farther down the list they would be willing to go.......right"? "Yea,
maybe, but it still seems like a pretty big stretch to me". "I
know....right? It is a big stretch, but in light of what you have just told me,
it's also hard to believe these guys showing up right here right now is just
total circumstance". "You boys got a gun" Shirley asked as
nonchalantly as if she was asking if they wanted another round. "No"
replied Geno. “We’ll have to take care of dat" she said as she poured
another round of whiskey.
After the
bar closed down and the bottle of Shirley” most excellent whiskey was fully
consumed the four of them walked down the two track to Shirley’s cabin. The
term “walk” being used loosely in that it was more like a stager. “You kids
should probably spend da night here” Shirley announced with authority. “If
those bozos really are spooks after Jack, than chances are day have spotted da
boat and…….well….it’s best if you just stay here…aahh. “No argument here” Geno
slurred “I gotta fine a place to land this drunken body of mine before it
crashes”.
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