The old Jeep

     My relationship with my 2001 Jeep Cherokee lasted longer than a lot of marriages, about 190,000 miles of bumpy road - which some would equate to a rocky marriage. But in my case, I wasn't looking for a divorce, it was forced. The old Jeep presented me with a bill for the misdeeds I'd done her over the last dozen years that added up to about $3,000, which prompted me to say goodbye.
     We've been through a lot. When I first climbed into it, I could claim to be middle age. These days I get free coffee at McDonalds and only have to pay half price for a fishing license.
     The Cherokee has been replaced by a new, gray Jeep Liberty and smells brand new. Some like that; but not me. I miss the smell of the old one, the combination of spilled bourbon, river water, sweat, mold, dirt, sand and spilled coffee. Too bad I couldn't bottle it.
     I spent an hour or so cleaning it up for the trade-in, mostly pulling out flies that had become embedded in the carpeting. I couldn't face giving it a true cleaning. That would have meant an array of chemical products which I never used on it.
     When I first bought it, I made some feeble attempts to make it acceptable to suburban society, but that soon faded away because it was my vehicle, not a family van to take kids to soccer practice, it was mine and mine alone. I'd never had a car that was truly mine since my 1968 Mustang, which was abused in the way only a 20 year old kid can manage. When we have kids and social responsibilities, we tend to buy vehicles for others, to cart around kids, get groceries, and drive people to medical appointments. There were also teenage sons borrowing the car. The Jeep was all mine and had no social responsibilities.
     It was often caked in mud from fishing or hunting trips, and my wife pretty much refused to ride in it. Later on, it developed creaks and groans brought by driving back roads, and my sons took to affectionately calling it "the rattle trap." One salesman I worked with pretty much told me it didn't belong in the office parking lot. Since I hate suburban sensibilities, I'd leave it mud splattered for as long as possible.
     I went down a lot of roads with the old Jeep, some of which I probably shouldn't have, especially after a night at a northern Michigan tavern, but I don't regret any of the adventures I had with it. I also wrote three travel books out of it, one about Detroit, so the Jeep has been on some of the wild back streets of the city. And in all that time, I never had to call a tow truck. It's been a good marriage, and I'm looking forward to getting the new Jeep dirty, and acquiring new bourbon, river and fish smells on the inside.
   

Christmas shopping for made in Michigan

This is the Christmas for us folks in Michigan to try helping our neighbors by buying some of their goods and services. The buy Michigan campaign is growing, and even the Detroit Free Press is taking note. They recently had a decent spread on holiday books written by Michigan authors.
That’s a good start, but it got me to thinking how we can support Michigan folks who have real jobs making things. I’m talking about the stuff we use in real life, not just plates with the seal of Michigan on them or other trinkets.
Actually, I’ve been concerned about this for a while, and while traveling the state to research and write my travel book, Michigan: An Explorer’s Guide, I took note of all the great things we produce here in the state.
When writing the travel guide, I gave my Jeep Cherokee center stage because I wanted people from other parts of the country to know that we not only build cars, but we drive the ones we make.
From my travels, I compiled a list of Michigan products, things that we use in our daily lives that we need.
• Food: This fact from a state website struck me the most. If we all just spent $10 a week on Michigan agricultural products that would mean an additional $37 million would go into our economy.
• Wood: Yep, we still cut down trees in this state, and build things out of them. Timber industry workers and carpenters make decent living wages and support families, unlike the checkout clerks at big box stores. I mention this because several years ago, I remodeled a room in my home and tried to use as many Michigan products in it as possible. My carpenter used a local lumber yard, and for the ceiling, I went on line searching for Michigan white cedar. I found it at a small mill in Boyne City, Town & Country. We called, ordered the tongue and grove paneling, and the folks at the mill had it shrink wrapped and sent to us via UPS. It arrived just on time for my carpenter, and it was no more expensive than if I’d bought it at a big box store. Here’s the mill’s website: www.michigancedarproducts.com
• Beer: Here’s a product consumed in many Michigan homes on a regular basis. There are many brew pubs that serve their own products, but there are Michigan beers on the shelves of many party stores. Pick up a six-pack of Bell’s, Arcadia or Atwater, all Michigan made brews.
• Clothing: Carhartt is a Michigan firm that produces tough work and outdoor clothing, much of which is made in Michigan. But not all, so check the label before buying.
• Footwear – Wolverine Boots of Rockford Michigan produces rugged outdoor and work boots. Again, not all of their footwear is made in Michigan, so check the label, but at least the company is still located in Michigan.
• Wine – Michigan made wine is making a good name for itself. Picking up a bottle for the holidays is a way to keep you money working in your home state.

If you’re interested in supporting Michigan products, here’s a website devoted to the subject: www.madeinmichiganmovement.com.

Also, www.allusaclothing.com is a good website to find American made clothing. Check out the prices, they’re really not much higher than the stuff from overseas.

Thanksgiving for a Jeep

As we take time out from our work on Thanksgiving to be with friends and family, we count our blessings, children, grandchildren, parents, friends, our faith, having a job, but this year as we give thanks I’ll secretly be thinking of my 2001 Jeep Cherokee sitting in my garage.
The black Jeep will be turning 165,000 miles soon, and it’s only now after nine years of ownership that I’m really trying to appreciate it. Over the years, I’ve neglected it, left it mud caked after grouse hunting season, and dusty after trout fishing in the spring and summer.
That changed last spring when I ran into a Chrysler “car guy” while attending a Trout Unlimited banquet in Ann Arbor. He give the Jeep an admiring look, as though it was a lost child, and told me it was the last of the tough Jeeps made during the last year of production at the Toledo plant and had a six-cylinder engine that was made to last. He said it was made for 60 percent off road use, and for 40 percent highway driving. These days the percentages are reversed, which makes me want to hold onto the Cherokee.
His comments give the old buggy a new shine in my eyes, and I took it in for an oil change and washed it. In its shiny condition, it drew an admiring glace from a DNR worker at a State Park toll booth, who said it looked to be in good condition, and that she’d like to buy one like it, and I was prompted into further action. I cleaned the rust off the rims with naval jelly and covered a few rust spots on the rocker panels with black primer.
But even with the new good looks, I still wasn’t certain I’d hang on to it for as long as possible.
Then came the rack. I picked up a paddling guide to research and write for my publisher, and I knew I’d be hoisting a canoe and kayak on and off the top of the Jeep. For years, I’ve just been using the luggage rack, and tying my canoe to the front and back bumpers. The rope burns on the hood have been mounting, although I view them as patina – battle scars, like the squashed bug bodies, which I don’t seem to get rid of.
I bought a new Yakima boat rack that will handle a canoe and a kayak at the same time, and which has clamps that make it unnecessary to tie the boat down – no more scratches on the hood. The rack was a commitment because it wedded me to the Jeep for years to come. That’s because it fits on the rain gutters, a feature most new SUVs don’t have any more. I’d have to buy new parts for the rack system, if I bought a new car, and the new piece of equipment wasn’t cheap.
Although I know it’s not true, I feel I have a rack that’s worth more than my Jeep. That thought led me to decide I’ll be this Jeep’s last owner. That's a wonderfully liberating feeling.
The scratches and dings won't bother me, they’re the patina of my life worn on my Jeep for all to see.