Dad and I woke up in Portage, WI the next morning. Why did we go to Portage? It certainly isn't the fastest way to Neenah. Well I requested that we go here, because I wanted my version of a trip down memory lane. Dad wanted to stay at this motel he likes in the Dells, but this is the stereotypical "cheap motel" so I shot this plan down in favour of staying in Portage. Not that there is much to see in Portage, but when we first moved to Wisconsin, Portage was where we went to do the shopping. It was the nearest proper store of any sort and so it was a common destination for us.
The Super8 here cost a bit more, but it also had a much better breakfast so I think it was worth it. We didn't spend any time in Portage however. We instead took the back roads to Montello. I have to say that Dad did not seem thrilled by this leg of the trip. However, I was much too keen to see my home town to let that get to me.
Before we left town, I had dad stop at the Church. I suppose there isn't a lot to say about it. For me it's more about the memories, and so the fact that I didn't get in nor did I really take any pictures make much of a difference to me. Although I imagine it's not all that interesting to hear about.
We continued out of town until the turn towards White Lake. The farmer guy who has the lot right on that corner finally got a new sign advertising the sale of firewood. I remember whenever Noel, our first dog, was riding with us somewhere this is the part where she would start to get excited because she knew we were almost home.
We turned onto White Lake Ct. It looked mostly as I remembered it. Before we got to the house, we turned off to go to the White Lake Ponderosa which was the private beach that was reserved for us (when we lived there) and our neighbours. The water was high, but the water was crystal clear over soft white sand. The weeds were gone. It looked just like it had when I was a kid.
After we left the beach, we drove past the old house. My Mom always called it a Frank Lloyd Wrong... The dopey thing was corbelled together and it had this awkward piece meal architecture. But I loved its quirkiness. When we lived here, there was a camp fire almost every night in the summer. Endless rides on the golf cart in the back woods and I would make elaborate mazes out of raking pine needles. When it was ours it was blue, but it still felt like home.
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The Super8 here cost a bit more, but it also had a much better breakfast so I think it was worth it. We didn't spend any time in Portage however. We instead took the back roads to Montello. I have to say that Dad did not seem thrilled by this leg of the trip. However, I was much too keen to see my home town to let that get to me.
Here's me at the Waterfall right by the only stop light in all of Marquette county. Yes, Montello is in a place that rural.
Before we left town, I had dad stop at the Church. I suppose there isn't a lot to say about it. For me it's more about the memories, and so the fact that I didn't get in nor did I really take any pictures make much of a difference to me. Although I imagine it's not all that interesting to hear about.
We continued out of town until the turn towards White Lake. The farmer guy who has the lot right on that corner finally got a new sign advertising the sale of firewood. I remember whenever Noel, our first dog, was riding with us somewhere this is the part where she would start to get excited because she knew we were almost home.
We turned onto White Lake Ct. It looked mostly as I remembered it. Before we got to the house, we turned off to go to the White Lake Ponderosa which was the private beach that was reserved for us (when we lived there) and our neighbours. The water was high, but the water was crystal clear over soft white sand. The weeds were gone. It looked just like it had when I was a kid.
I wanted to take some of the sand home with me, but I would have needed a little bottle and a stopper. Maybe someday I'll go back and take home a bit of the beach.
After we left the beach, we drove past the old house. My Mom always called it a Frank Lloyd Wrong... The dopey thing was corbelled together and it had this awkward piece meal architecture. But I loved its quirkiness. When we lived here, there was a camp fire almost every night in the summer. Endless rides on the golf cart in the back woods and I would make elaborate mazes out of raking pine needles. When it was ours it was blue, but it still felt like home.
f
I miss my room in the attic the most.
Before we left White Lake, we stopped by Scharenberg's, the resort on the lake. They are famous for keeping peacocks and we were lucky enough to be there in mating season.
When we lived here, occasionally they would wander through our yard.
Our last stop was by the Vaassen's old house. I took pictures of peanut pond. When we were little. Cameron, Kaleb, Tom, & I would spend hours catching tadpoles and frogs and playing made up games. In a small way, some of these games inspired several of my writing topics later in life.
Although you can't see all of it, the pond is shaped like a Peanut. I don't think the pond has an official name, but that's what we always called it.
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