Big lake, quick trip, glad to be home

There's nothing like taking a few days of vacation -- except, of course, getting ready to go. And dealing with everything that didn't get your attention while you were gone.

My wife and I spent last week on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan. We went in hopes of finding a more accessible alternative to our regular visits to the Oregon Coast. We knew from the outset that there is nothing that can replace our love of the Pacific Northwest, but we hoped Lake Michigan might provide a handy substitute, one that didn't require flying by way of Dallas-Fort Worth, renting a car and driving 3 1/2 more hours to reach our usual destination.

So we opted for an 8 1/2 hour drive that took up the length of Illinois, which, as most of you already know, is a l-o-n-g state. Thank goodness for the turning leaves on the trees in the forests of Southern Illinois. I don't know for sure what the Illinois tourism folks do about everything north of Mount Vernon.

Michigan made up for the drive, and when we got there we had our own car. And we didn't have to drive two hours to the St. Louis airport, arrive two hours early to prevent terrorism, fly to Texas, wait an hour or so to switch planes in one of the worst-designed airports I've ever seen, rent a car in Portland and head for the coast -- a 15-hour experience from start to finish.

Instead, after 8 1/2 hours we were greeted by our friendly innkeeper who informed us we had a tough choice: settle in for a sampling of the inn's afternoon hors d'oeurves or stroll down to the beach for the spectacular (as promised) sunset. We chose the beach.

Bottom line: We had a grand time on Michigan's Art Coast, which is like New England without the hassle of a journey that involves Boston's Logan Airport (see above, but think east).

Lake Michigan is not the Pacific. Never will be.

Neither does it have highway signs warning of tsunamis.

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Let's put 8 1/2 hours in a car in perspective.

That's how long it takes to drive from Cape Girardeau to Maryville, Mo., in the northwest corner of the state where we used to live. And you never leave the Show Me State the whole time.

In 8 1/2 hours, you could be less than halfway to Denver, which is not where you want to go when you visit Colorado anyway.

After driving approximately the same amount of time, you could be in Asheville, N.C., another great destination, particularly when the leaves are turning and the bittersweet is popping.

It only takes 8 1/2 hours to fly from New York to Athens.

Or, better still, get a good night's sleep in your own bed right here in the River City of Roses.

Dorothy had it right. Oz might be a good place to visit, but there's no place like your own La-Z-Boy.

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On a sad note, Miss Kitty was not home to greet us upon our return.

She had endured visiting feeder/petters on previous trips during the past year and a half. But she went missing just a day or two after we left last week.

We don't know if she decided to take a trip of her own, was shanghaied or used up the last of her nine lives. Worried neighbors have been keeping their eyes peeled.

It's funny how many things sound like a missing cat: squeaking door hinges, the whine of a weed trimmer two blocks away, the high-pitched voices of unseen children playing outdoors.

We keep listening. And waiting.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.