High Speed

Parking brake on, front row, high speed on the Lake Express crossing Lake Michigan from Muskegon to Milwaukee. Skirting the tip of our great lake, we chose not to drive through Chicago and opted for the blazing catamaran that would land us right in downtown Milwaukee just minutes from my cousin Rick and Mel's house. Not a financial savings but a beautiful ride with someone else at the wheel. 

Homeland security emboldens those at check points and our directions were so explicitly and emphatically stated that I was confused about my parking brake. At one point it appeared that releasing it, in order to move forward and off the boat, violated policy. How could we keep going?

Cars remain below and cannot be accessed during the two and a half hour crossing. We shared a table, a view, a cheeseburger, and potato chips. I stood in the window for an hour or so to ward off the impending seasickness. Riding up above in the open air was out of the question due to our speed. At one point we scoured the boat searching for Leila's lost wallet, fearing it had been blown overboard. Not the best way to launch a road trip, but she found it in a secret back pocket. 

We arrived in sync with the sun ball slipping behind the Milwaukee skyline. Rick's eggplant parmesan awaited us on Newhall Lane.