No Booze. No Drugs. No Fishing.

We tried to hug the coast of Lake Superior as much and as often as we could as we made our way west toward the source of the Mississippi. As we entered Wisconsin, there were two peninsulas that we had to contend with. We could either walk the perimeter or we could walk a straight line at the base. There was a small one inside the Bad River Indian Reservation. We cut across that one at the base. We didn’t think we should tempt fate with the Indian Reservation authorities.

Machine asked, “Are the Chippewa people mean?”

Bill said, “Hell yeah, them niggers will scalp you!”

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