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I spent three weeks in my boyhood home of Utica, Michigan. When I wasn't visiting lifelong friends and wonderful family, I devoted some time to getting back on track - literally and figuratively. You see, there's these really cool old train tracks and an awesome state park right next to our house. And since my road trip had already begun to make my abs harder to find than Jimmy Hoffa - a Michigan joke if there ever was one - I railroaded (heh, heh) :-) anyone I could to go hiking with me. The list of "no train (tracks), no gain" hikers included my nephews and nieces, a deer friend who scurried past me, and my buddy, David Weeks who walked those same tracks with me over 55 years ago. Need-Les to say, it was a great opportunity to share the simple, lush, fragrant, green, mercifully cool, and beautiful nature walks with the new generation and enjoy it again with my generation. Oh, and being there reminded me, if you REALLY want to see if someone is from Michigan, just hold up your hand in the shape of the mitten. If they can't point to the spot on your hand-y map of the state, they are just wishin'agin that they were from Michigan.
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