We were at the airport when Precheck opened at 0330 - there
was a monster line, but it went pretty fast, though Bonnie
was pulled aside for the secondary - they said that her
hiking boots had set the detector off (but she says they
never had before). This time I escaped unscathed.

We could have hoofed it over to United for breakfast, but as
it would have involved a sizable retrace, and as we'd been
upgraded, we waited in the boarding area with all the other
sleepy folks..

AA 304 BOS ORD 0500 0646 738 3EF

They'd given me beautiful seat 5A, my favorite, but they
stuck Bonnie in the horrid 3F, so I changed to the almost
as horrid 3E to be with her. Row 3 is the bulkhead and has
restricted legroom and no underseat storage. Plus the staff
knows that row 3 is "reserved" for low-status upgraders and
tends to be extra neglectful of those who sit there. Sadly,
or happily, it appears that the service to the rest of the
cabin was almost as poor.

Breakfast was offered as either steel-cut oatmeal or omelet;
we both had the latter, which turned out to be a blue cheese
omelet, so I gave up after a couple bites. This was served
with chicken sausage (not awful) and salty fried potatoes
(not good). I asked for a "poor man's mimosa," half OJ and
half Sprite, not so terrible as it sounds, which gave the
pretty but dour FA a chuckle but didn't improve her service
(she did not offer seconds). A fruit appetizer was mostly decent
- two blackberries, a raspberry, and a strawberry, two slices of
some of the crunchiest, unripest, worst cantaloupe ever grown by
man or beast, and one slice of one of the tenderest, sweetest,
most fragrant, best honeydew in living memory.

We landed twenty early, so there was plenty of time to trek the
half mile to the United club, where a glass of Camelot Pinot
Noir and a bowl of blackberries was just what the doctor ordered.

AA3387 ORD CWA 0825 0927 CRJ 4BC

This is a negligible flight, being 212 miles, the exact distance
of Boston to New York; as a consequence, the airline puts old
cramped crappy airplanes on the route and doesn't cater it. The
excuse is turbulence, but most of the hour was smooth enough.

Our friend Ed was there at the tiny Central Wisconsin Airport
to meet us in his sleek black sedan - we'd been expecting an
adventure in the truck, but his and Kim's son was using it, so
we benefited from that. Then a chatty, friendly 2-hour ride
back up to Wipi and the welcome dining hall.

Ed and Kim had vacated the master bedroom in the Greeley cabin
for us, and after lunch a bit of naptime was in order. As the
week progressed, we fell into a routine - three squares a day
with ample naptimes and camp activities in between as weather
and inclination suggested.

Wipi is a cooperative among 12 families, most original from the
founding in 1922, when the property was acquired by a consrtium
of friends from the Stearns family, with 12 cabins of greater or
lesser grandeur (the one we were in has 4 bedrooms, living, a
three-season porch, kitchen, indoor plumbing, and a bunkhouse
upstairs for kids but is quite rustic - others have been expanded,
modernized, whatever) and a system of supporting outbuildings,
boat docks, dirt roads, trails, and recreation facilities as
would befit an affluent community from before the Depression. It
sits on 1980 acres in the north woods mostly surrounded by tribal
land, with access to 6 lakes, so it's evolved into a fishing and
boating thing mostly. I found myself more drawn to hiking the
numerous trails in search of mushrooms, which, as it rained off
and on all week, were abundant. Edible species included sulfur
shelf polypores, slippery jacks (edible with caution), honey
fungus, and various puffballs. On the other team, quite a
variety and profusion of Amanitas to keep you on your toes. Tons
of stuff in between as well. Luckily, the mess hall provided us
with more than enough entertainment to save us from ourselves -
the head cook was on vacation from his regular gig cooking at
McMurdo and exercised his imagination quite freely here, something
he can't do in Antarctica, where 800 to 2000 hungry heavy thinkers
and heavy lifters count on him to keep sane. The food was mostly
pretty good, except he had a massive infatuation with tarragon and
a heavy hand with the salt. Over 21 meals (I didn't miss a one)
I gained 8 lb, half of it water weight.
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