Sunday, January 19, 1992

We eat breakfast, pack the van, and hit the road by 10:30.  The road is snow-covered and probably slippery to Washburn, a 12-mile stretch.  After that conditions are variable.  The dusting of snow that fell earlier during the morning creates a white-out effect whenever cars, and especially trucks, pass in the opposite direction.  I drive as far as Stevens Point, where we stop for take-out at McDonald's and to put some air in a much too soft left rear tire.  We return to Middleton at 5, and the boys are so happy to see us.  It's obvious, though, that they had a great time with Cindy and Mayra.  In fact, Eddie starts to fuss when Mayra approaches the front door to leave.

Saturday, January 18, 1992

During breakfast, we decide whether or not to go skiing.  Bowling is offered as an alternative, but for all we know, the closest lanes may be in Ashland, a half hour drive from our weekend retreat.  Even though weather conditions are blustery and below zero, the presence of a bright sun in a clear blue sky is enough to convince us to go cross-country skiing.  Great choice.  We ski a very easy lap at Mt. Ashwabay.  JoAnna and I take a scenic, more intermediate route on the return trip to the chalet.  I feel so exhilarated by the 10K loop that I'm ready to hit the trail again.  But I control my urge to overexercise.  Back in Bayfield, we eat midafternoon lunch at the New Mariner -- Italian is their specialty -- after which couples retreat to their respective rooms for an afternoon of privacy.  JoAnna and I soak in the whirlpool and then make love.

Dinner is a nearly 3-hour, 5-course affair at the house.  We adjourn to Barb and Chuck's room for cards and talk.  We're a tired crew, and the gathering is a relatively brief one.

Friday, January 17, 1992

After driving the boys to daycare, I cash my check at the credit union and return home a half hour past our scheduled departure time.  Not a problem.  Barb and Chuck have not yet arrived.  We pack the van and leave shortly before ten, stopping at McDonald's to pick up breakfast, which includes 9 orders of hash browns.  I only drive the first 50 miles; then Chuck volunteers to take over.  His driving makes me -- and everyone else -- so nervous, but I don't argue.  We meet the Blumenfelds and Cieslewiczs in Minocqua to eat lunch at Bosacki's.

The Rittenhouse bed-and-breakfast in Bayfield is an eye-opening establishment.  Beautifully appointed rooms.  Cozy, snowbound setting.

After unpacking, we meet for supper.  Maggie's, the only real choice at this time of year, has a long waiting list, so we walk 3 blocks in -20 degree cold to Marty's, a typical bar and while away some time.  We spend a half hour at the bar once we get back to Maggie's, waiting for a cluster of tables that will seat ten.  In the meantime, we continue to drink and jabber away.  Dinner itself is a wonderful group experience.  We have so much fun.  Back at the Inn, we gather in Barb and Chuck's room to play 60s Trivial Pursuit, and I dazzle the group with my answers -- notably the "Hog Farm" response.