Frozen mist over the Brule River Wednesday morning

December 17, 2020 - Thursday morning

26 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Monroe, Wisconsin

After arriving home Wednesday morning from my walk, Sargie and I decided to point the car towards House on the Rock in southwest Wisconsin, six hours distant. 

It wasn't that we didn't want to go, the drive, the masks, and all that, but rather that we weren't looking forward to packing and closing up the house and actually loading the car.

Now how dumb is that? Once we made up our minds, it took us all of ten minutes to pack. Sargie did the last minute preparations while I turned off the water, locked the barn, and did those things one has to do before leaving for a few days during the winter months.

We were soon beebopping down the road, happy that we'd made the decision to vacate the Upper Peninsula for a couple of days. We warbled along with Amazon Music to Christmas carols at the top of our voices, talked, listened to a couple of Dateline episodes on the Sirius radio, and before we knew it, Monroe, our destination, was less than an hour away.

The ski hills on the outskirts of Wausau, Wisconsin

 Sargie had earlier made reservations on Priceline and we got a great deal at a Best Western here in Monroe.  Between midweek deals and the Covid scare, we've found room rates to be quite reasonable this year. Last night's Pizza Hut special, a family size pie for a mere ten dollars, made the trip even more palatable. Gas is nearly thirty cents a gallon cheaper than in Iron River and we're averaging almost forty miles to the gallon with the Sonata, so we're hitting on all the cost saving cylinders this trip.

We'll drive the last twenty miles to House on the Rock later this morning. The last time we visited, it took around four hours to see all the rooms. As of now, our plan is to take the tour, then head back north, stopping in the Wausau area for the night. Sargie'd like to do a bit of shopping and that's fine. I'm in the middle of a great hiking book that will keep me occupied while she hops from one store to another. We should arrive back on Pentoga Road Friday afternoon before dark.

So, you now know what I know. I wish I had different shoes, I'd go for a morning walk while Sargie's getting ready. Old habits die hard, even if it's just for a day or two.

After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road by way of Monroe, Wisconsin...