Think of it as the world's largest jet ski. Powered by four giant diesel engine driven jet skis (requiring 20,000 horsepower) the ferry scoots across Lake Michigan in a couple of hours. We took it in the early morning to Oskegon MI, and then drove on to Detroit. David came and found us at Dearborn, and took us into the city. It is so close to Canada you can almost touch it. The city is all concrete and steel, not very pedestrian oriented which is perhaps appropriate for what used to be the center of car manufacturing in the country. GM has a prize spot for its headquarters, right on the river separating us from Canada. We walked through a park, and took a train around town, and then had a great BBQ dinner at Slow's ... read more

You can go straight East across South Dakota and Southern Minnesota on I - 90 if you want to. Boooring. Or you can take the backwards route to the Badlands, like us. We started down route 44 in the direction of the Badlands, but we never seemed to get there. They were always on the horizon, never getting closer. I know, its to be expected in the Midwest, but this was ridiculous. Until we arrived at the official entrance, and found that we had circled around the southern edge, and would now have to retrace our tracks going West through the Park. No problem. It was early and a lovely day. And the park was pretty empty. The light coming low from the East made a huge difference in how good the Badlands looked. Photos to ... read more

The day started off dark and stormy, and stayed that way til after lunch. The snow began about 7 am and stayed with us til early afternoon. After dropping Luke off at the airport, we headed North toward Yellowstone. As we drove up along the Lewis River it started to snow quite hard. At the West Thumb park of Yellowstone Lake, the steam from the hot pools mixed nicely with the falling snow. Nothing had any boundaries. We wandered almost alone in a white, quiet bubbling world. The Canyon of the Yellowstone river disappeared into the fog as we sat listening to the roar of the waterfall. As we drove North we stumbled across odd wildlife -- a scared elk, wet bison, mule deer impervious to the presence of humans and a group of mountain goats. ... read more

It had been years since Marty had siphoned gas, but he looked pretty good as he bent down beside the BMW and drained fluid from the big tank down into his spare can for use in Ron's machine. By not refueling at our last gas station in Argentina we had cut our supplies very close. And we were off to the Torres del Payne -- an outcropping of amazing granite towers in a Park of the same name in Chile. It had been raining. The river was swollen and the bridges were flooded. We were unable to actually get into the park, but wandered around the Eastern set of mountains and towers, driving up the river to escape the crowds and absorb the wild views. The run South to Punta Arenas was completely paved and delightful. ... read more

Motorcycles move to the head of the line. No-one said it, but we were all thinking it (Ron, Marty and I) as we entered Glaciers National Park (Argentina) and rolled past large designated look out points full of buses and minivans over the 20 km between the entrance and the final position closest to the glacier. Forget the gradual buildup. Hit the point that you most want to see first. Then go slowly back. It worked like a charm. Crowds were thin when we reached the small parking area by the cafeteria and the metal walkways leading down to the glacier. Elated, we parked and advanced on the prize. What I had not realized is that visiting a glacier with men whose life's work is bound up in the dynamics of ice, water and rock, is ... read more