Viroqua

We have escaped the summer heat in Minneapolis--101 by late afternoon--and traded it in for the summer heat in the driftless region of southwestern Wisconsin. Yesterday, we embarked on a three-week drive to New England and back. It felt downright unhealthy to close up the house when it was still 95 degrees inside. But the three-hour air-conditioned drive to Genie's mom's farm in Viroqua completely erased the compiled tension and sweat of a long day in the garage getting the car packed and ready.

The duration of our trip is greatly encouraged by all of the dear folk we will visit along the way, family and friends conveniently spaced a short day's drive apart all the way to our easternmost destination, Camden, Maine. This first stop is a frequent destination, but also conveniently enroute to Chicago, and any chance to avoid a full day in the car is welcome. We head to the windy city tomorrow, planning to spend much of Thursday on the waterfront visiting the Field Museum and taking in the spectacle of a tall ships festival. But first we linger here for a day with Helena and Alexandra, watch the soybeans and corn grow by another fraction, and await a promised cold front and thunderstorms to wash over the old Runge farmstead in Harmony township.

In a couple of weeks, we will repatirate via that most familiar of foreign lands, Ontario, where we know nobody and thus intend to camp on the hard Canadian ground. I anticipate at least a few details worth relating en route: the phantom hitchhiker of the turnpike, the ghost ships of Nantucket, the rich smell of roadkill. And three weeks in small quarters with a four- and two- year-old promises at the very least an occasional rant. But today it's familiar Viroqua, steamier than usual, a small town wholesome and groovy all out of proportion.


© 2006 Michael Nordskog