Brocation 2020, Pt. I

The wives got together and made these for our trip. . .

What's up, gang.

I've mentioned before, a time or two, in this here blog of mine that Kris and the other moms in our extended social group - eight or nine families, thereabouts - actively go away on 'Girls Weekends' once or twice a year.  They've gone to Grand Rapids, Traverse City, and, the last few times, down to Danielle's friend's house (and pool) down by Kalamazoo.

To date, the dads haven't had a single weekend.  This isn't necessarily because we weren't granted permission to do so, mind you (we don't need f***ing permission, Internet), but rather a lack of execution of such a venture.  Girls Weekend after Girls Weekend came and went, and we dads kept grumbling to each other, "Damn it, we need to get on the ball and plan out a weekend for us dudes."  This went on for a couple years, until about, oh, two months ago.

At the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, when everyone was quarantined under lock and key, we Houghs held daily, evening strolls throughout the Chestnut Hill neighborhood with the Johnson family.  On one of these evening walks, whilst smoking pipes and having a beer, Erik and I discussed the idea of heading up to Marquette (the biggest city in the Upper Peninsula) and bringing all the dads along.  We immediately hashed over the possibilities for just such a trip:  greasy spoon diners, dive bars, full-fledged breweries, waterfalls and mountains to check out, trails to hike, and lots of opportunities for exploration and shenanigans.

The wives stuffed these with just the essentials, folks.  They knew what this weekend was gonna look like. . .

Damn straight.

Over the next month or so, we fine-tuned the idea and began stoking interest in the other dads in the friend group.  Eventually, we landed on a weekend in June that worked for the majority of us, and began preparing for what would ultimately become the first Guys Weekend:  Brocation 2020.

This is gonna take a few posts (and hundreds of pictures and video) to get through, but it's a pretty entertaining tale, rest assured.

Behold, America -
The Fighting Hellfish and the Saga of Brocation 2020:

While the rest of the guys were wrapping up their last day of work before setting off for the weekend, Erik and I drove to Midland Ford in the early afternoon to pick up a vehicle that Morgan Larson, the Sales Manager, had reserved for us to use for the weekend:  a 2019 Ford Expedition.  Six seats, about the size of a mini-van, but with more features and better handling, like a truck.  We wanted a reliable vehicle for the trip, which was going to be spending some extensive time on the road.

I drove the vehicle back over to my place to start the packing process. . .

One of the reasons I wanted to pick up the vehicle is so that I'd be able to pick my seat first (considering the amount of time we'd be spending on the road, I wanted to be in an ideal position.)  These front seats were spoken for already:  Morgan wanted to drive for the entirety of the weekend, as the car was under his name and being rented from his dealership (which made total sense, obviously.)  Erik, who grew up in Marquette, would be riding shotgun, and serve as our weekend navigator (the Chewbacca to Morgan's Han Solo, if you will.)  

This seat closest here was the one I selected - the one directly behind Erik - because it would a.) give me close proximity to the front of the vehicle for pictures and radio controls, b.) plenty of leg-room and cup-holder space, c.) direct views for picture-taking out the front and side windows (like, say, when we cross the Mackinac Bridge, etc.), and d.) I wouldn't have to crawl over anyone or anything to get to my seat (unlike those poor bastards in the back row.)

A size comparison shot of the Ford Expedition with my SUV, a Ford Escape.

Having packed up all my things in the truck, and having set up my seat for the long trip ahead of us, I swung by and helped Erik get his things together.  We ran out for some last-minute impulse buys, and I picked up this at the liquor store.  Haven't drank it since college, which is probably a good thing.

Having picked up all the remaining supplies, we loaded up Erik's Yeti cooler and fastened it to a small hitch-rack that he had in his garage.  With all our stuff finally loaded up, it was time to start picking up the rest of the crew. . .

Our first pick-up, the third man on our trip, was Ryan Collier (shown here), who was bringing along more gear than anyone else on the trip.  There was some Ham Radio event taking place in Marquette this weekend, and so he packed a bunch of his radios and antennae along with stuff.  Once we got his stuff squared away, and he jumped into the back row of the truck (in order to have better access to his things), we swung by to pick up Lonnie Griffin (who took the pilot seat in the middle row, next to me.)  Then came Morgan, our driver, followed by our final teammate, Matt Fischer (who joined Ryan in the back row.)

Around 4pm-ish, we set off, at long last, for the wilds of Michigan's Upper Peninsula. . .

A bunch of us guys splurged and bought chewing tobacco on the way up - something I personally don't do, but without wives around to complain, why the hell not?

A few Bloody Marys mixed up.  Gotta stay hydrated, folks.

After the first leg of our trip, reaching the Big Mac.

Behold - Lake Huron.

. . . I absolutely HATE driving over this bridge.  Erik?  Not so much.

In St. Ignace, we stopped for Burger King because a bunch of the guys were hungry.  No idea why, we had been snacking in the car the entire way up the state.  One thing I've realized after hanging out with these guys over the years, is that a lot of these guys - especially the bigger ones - can put down some serious food. . .

We hugged the lake shore for awhile before turning north and cutting across the length of the U.P.  Phone signal was intermittent at best, which was a definite pain in the ass for Yours Truly, who had taken pains to create the perfect playlist for the weekend:  a selected of 115 songs, taken from five of the six of us (Matt, apparently, doesn't listen to music, only sports radio.)  I had each guy send me 20 - 25 songs for the playlist.  Zero judgement whatsoever, the only rule being that there could be no repeats.  What we ended up with was an eclectic, diverse playlist reflecting the personalities of all five of us, and the genres varied dramatically.  Some definite common ground, but it quickly became a game we played in the countless hours we spent on the road: "Who's song is this?"  "I'm guessing this one's Lonnie's."  "I'm thinking it's Ryan's."  And so on and so forth.  Definitely doing it for next year's adventure.

Stopping at an isolated gas station, in the middle of nowhere, somewhere deep in the interior of the Upper Peninsula. . .

Mixing up some fresh drinks, grabbing some more snacks, and getting ready for the last hour two hours on the road.

Our first glimpse of Lake Superior, taken as we drove alongside it at sunset.

Finally, after hours and hours on the road, we pulled into our destination:  the Cedar Motor Inn, located on the outskirts of town.

Unfastening the cooler from the back of the truck, happy to be on our feet again.

After Erik and I ran in to get keys, we decided to split up rooms between the two of us.  Those guys who did not snore would go with me into my room (shown here) and that ended up being Morgan and Matt.  Ryan and Lonnie ended up going with Erik into the loud-ass, stank room (for whatever reason, their room had a funk in it that practically knocked you on your ass when you went in there.)  Ours, thank God, was kept clean and smelled fresh the entire weekend.  Zero regrets here, folks.

Matt and Morgan took these beds - I brought a cot and sleeping bag, having no problem whatsoever passing up a bed.

This room, for whatever reason, became our hang-out spot for the weekend.  Whenever we'd come back from bar-hopping, we'd have some nightcaps over here.  Probably 'cause the cooler and all the snacks were kept over here.

Big fans of wood paneling, are the folks that run the Cedar Motor Inn.

A few stairs from our doors was an ice machine.  Very convenient.

After unpacking our things, the guys - once again - decided they wanted to eat something.  We ran across the street to a Buffalo Wild Wings, where they got, like, their third dinner for the evening.  I just had a few beers and called it good.

Waiting for our checks, at the end of a very, very long day.  Tomorrow, the real adventure begins. . .

- Brian