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By JOHN CARPENTER Bruce Roper leaned over the dusty workbench and carefully placed two slender, hand-hewn lengths of spruce into the shape of an “X” on the flat, unfinished cutout of a guitar top. “You can buy these pre-made and pre-measured,” he said with a furrowed brow and a slight head-shake, the words held at arm’s length. He let that unpleasant thought trail off. Tom Kennedy stood nearby, the newest student of the Chicago Luthiers Workshop — which is basically Roper. A lifelong music lover and self-proclaimed hack of a guitar player, Kennedy recently took an early retirement from his job in pharmaceutical sales. He could easily have bought himself a nice new instrument. “Why, though?” he said. “I’ve reached the point in my life where, instead of just buying stuff, I’d like to spend my time accumulating experiences.” That’s a service Chicago-area guitar-makers like Roper can provide. Ian Schneller, the owner of the Chicago School of Guitar Making in the Humboldt Park neighborhood, said he’s taught about 1,000 would-be luthiers and musical tinkerers (he also offers classes in tube-amplifier building) since he opened for business 10 years ago, and he credits the still-growing maker movement, a subculture of people dedicated to either buying or making handcrafted things, for bringing students in the door. He cited a general decline in the quality of manufactured goods and a growing disconnect between people and the objects they own: “We’ve turned a corner in the last decade, in terms of people wanting to work with their hands and actually make things. … People used to change their own oil in their cars. Now some motors don’t even have dipsticks. We’re told to not even look under the hood.” Roper pointed toward the busy commercial strip a few blocks from his workshop. “There’s dozens of places on Lincoln Avenue where you can get your fingernails done,” he said. “This is someplace where you can get your fingernails dirty. People are looking for that.” The number of certified luthier schools in the United States has held steady for the past 10 years, according to Tim Olsen, president of the Guild of American Luthiers. But the increasing array of online educational offerings suggests the desire to learn the skill is growing, Olsen said. Serious, musically inclined do-it-yourself types can take solace. There are real places out there, like Roper’s garage studio in Lakeview, where you can learn to be a luthier from a luthier. Kennedy drives into the Lakeview neighborhood from Burr Ridge a few times a week for half-day chunks, working under the watchful eye and instructive temperament of Roper. There is no textbook or set of blueprints, and certainly no kit. There are tools and a pile of wood, along with a few pieces of specialty hardware. And there’s Roper’s lifetime of experience in the art of lutherie. When he’s not teaching, Roper makes guitars on his own, does guitar repair work for the Old Town School of Folk Music and is a member of the folksy trio Sons of the Never Wrong. Kennedy is learning how to make a guitar the old-fashioned way. He’s making one. Schneller’s Chicago School of Guitar Making offers a variety of classes that also include instrument design and repair. But Roper’s course catalog is more simple: He’ll help you make a guitar, showing and teaching through every step of cutting, scraping, sanding and shaping, for $3,200. It’s a process that usually takes about 12 weeks, depending on a student’s schedule and Roper’s availability. All of Roper’s tools are available, but students are expected to bring their own materials, which can be found through any number of online supply houses that source the special woods for different parts of the instrument, everything from cherry and mahogany to exotic spruce and rosewood. Materials can cost several hundred dollars. And Kennedy acknowledged that the total outlay is not insignificant. But he said the price tag on a high-quality, high-end instrument can quickly pass $2,000. Spending the additional money for the knowledge and experience was a no-brainer, he said. “I know I’m going to appreciate this every time I pick it up and play,” he said. As for the curriculum, it’s about as comprehensive as it gets. The process starts, literally, with a small pile of raw wood. The only item Roper doesn’t make himself is the fingerboard, the long stretch of precisely slotted, very hard wood that runs along the guitar neck under the strings. He could, but he said that achieving the slightly arched top, along with the carefully measured slots for the inlayed frets — which he does make — “isn’t worth the time” when the simple part is available. Other than that, it’s all from scratch. Students must first choose the size and style of the body of their guitar. Although the general pear shape is unmistakable, different sizes and variations appeal to different types of players. Kennedy, for example, chose a slightly smaller body. “It won’t have that big, booming sound. But I’m a finger picker,” he said. “It’ll have a Lutz spruce top, which means the single notes should come out very well-articulated.” Roper is careful to manage expectations about how precisely any luthier can tailor the sound of an instrument. An acoustic guitar is a complex collection of woods, carefully assembled and joined, with an almost infinite variety of thicknesses, both in the surface woods and the many, mostly unseen braces. A maker never knows precisely how a guitar will sound until the job is done. “The only secret is in knowing how to do it well,” he said. Luthiers can make guitars for higher or lower tones, or tailored to different kinds of playing styles. But the guitar, once made, takes on a life of its own, shaped by the player “like a worn-out pair of shoes.” Roper mentioned the battle-scarred ax of country great Willie Nelson: “He doesn’t have to play that thing. He’s just at home with it.” Kennedy knows this; knows that, as much as he’s thought carefully about the sound he wants from his instrument, he won’t know for sure how it will sound until it’s done and he plays it. He also knows it’ll be hard not to love something he made with his own hands. The aforementioned braces were the lesson of the day on a recent visit to Roper’s shop. Thellengths of spruce had been cut to a width of about a quarter-inch, and Kennedy was sanding the ends on a table-mounted band saw. They were then brought over to a hollow form, so the bottoms could be sanded to the necessary gentle curve. That curve is key: Although guitars look flat on the top and bottom at first glance, the surfaces are actually slightly bowed when attached to the braces, a characteristic that allows the guitar toproduce its unique sound. Enter the hollow form, sometimes called a radius dish. Imagine the very bottom of a gigantic bowl — gigantic as in 50 feet from rim to rim. The guitar front requires a 25-foot radius dish — meaning its shape, if fully extended, would create that 50- oot-in-diameter bowl. The back of the guitar requires a less-pronounced bow, created with a 15-foot radius dish. The thin pieces that make up the front and back of the guitar are glued to the curved braces, carefully arranged with an eye toward both structural integrity and sound. “The top is where all the action is,” Roper explained. “The thicker the brace, the higher the pitch.” It’s for this reason that the final carving and shaping of the braces don’t happen until they are glued to the top piece. This is because there’s no way to tell precisely what tone a particular combination of braces and top-wood will produce. The only way to get it right, Roper explained, is to slowly carve the braces, pausing occasionally to hold the top up and tap on it, listening for the tone. “Of course, the old-timers are listening for something it’s taken them years to learn to listen for,” he said, acknowledging that he doesn’t expect his students to master the practice immediately. He’s happy to help, but “as a teaching element, though, I think it’s important to let my students do it the old-fashioned way and to get their hands dirty.” He’ll also help them keep their hands intact. “You hold it like a pool cue,” he said to Kennedy, showing him how to grip one of Roper’s long-handled Japanese chisels to make a precise lap-joint cut in one of the back braces. Moments earlier, Kennedy had prepared to make the cut holding his hand just beyond the work piece. Roper stopped him and stepped in, mimicking his pose and demonstrating how the chisel might have slipped past the work and into his hand. “I tell you this from personal experience and a lot of pain,” he said with a laugh, handing the tool back to Kennedy. This is the teaching style. Each next step is first explained, then briefly demonstrated. Then Roper steps back and watches while the student does the work. Eventually Kennedy will bend the outer sides of the guitar body, using one of the several forms Roper has made himself. Most of the joints will be carefully set with glue, the one exception being a small bolt that joins the neck to the body. Roper noted that there are some in the luthier community who suggest this bolt is both unnecessary and detrimental to the sound. He disagrees on both counts, noting that more and more guitars nowadays — including many made by Martin, the legendary Pennsylvania-based guitar company — use a bolt. As someone who repairs guitars for a living, Roper also has a practical reason. “They are easier to work on,” he said. “I’ve had to steam those necks off before, and it’s not easy.” Less essential to the structural integrity or future repairability of the guitar are the small inlays that make each instrument distinctive. The designs can be whatever the maker wants. Roper sometimes puts a small image of a lariat-wielding cowboy on his own guitars, which he sells privately at a clip of “about three to five per year.” Kennedy is planning on a small shamrock, made from mother-of-pearl. “What can I say?” he said with a shrug. “I’m an Irishman.” Schneller said his students generally divide into two camps: Some are young music lovers looking for a craft that fuels their passion and that they might be able to make a living at. Others are people like Kennedy. “They are career professionals at or near retirement, and they want to rekindle the passion of their youth,” he said. Kennedy won’t argue. “This is probably the coolest thing I’ll ever do.” (This article originally appeared in the Chicago Tribune.)

By JOHN CARPENTER (This story was originally published in the Chicago Tribune on July 24, 2019) When my daughter put two California colleges on her list, I casually wondered whether it would be cool to take the train there from Chicago and maybe drive down the Pacific Coast Highway from Berkeley to Pomona. Her eyes lit up, and the decision was made. Parenting tip: When your 17-year-old agrees to spend 57 hours on a train with you, followed by three days in a car, you say yes and book the tickets as fast as you can. This tendency of mine to turn school visits into diversionary adventures might seem like parental avoidance. I look at it as an aging dad shaking his fist at the modern college-search stress machine. The plan was this: Sally and I would ride Amtrak’s venerable California Zephyr to the Bay Area, where my wife, Mary — whose love for me does not extend to my fondness for rail journeys — would arrive by air and join us. After a tour of Berkeley and a few days in San Francisco, we’d rent a car and drive south at a leisurely pace, with a short hike in Big Sur and stops in Monterey and Santa Barbara. After a night in the Los Angeles suburbs, er, the bucolic foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains, we’d hightail it home in the traditional manner, uncomfortably folding ourselves into an airborne metal tube. The first thing you need to know about taking a 2,438-mile train ride is that patience is both required and rewarded. Also, reserving a sleeper car is highly recommended. It’s not cheap, but all meals — in our case, seven of them, times two — were included for a grand total of $1,119. Our Superliner Roomette was tight but efficient: two comfortable seats facing each other, with a pop-up table between. At night, those seats slide down to make one bed, while an upper bunk drops from above. Both beds are made up with mattresses, sheets, blankets and pillows — hardly a four-star hotel, but comfortable enough. And there is something lovely about sleeping on a train. The gentle rocking of 2 million pounds of steel surging across the Midwestern prairie at 70-plus miles an hour is oddly soothing. And when you feel a stop, you can pop up on an elbow and groggily look out at, say, Holdrege, Neb., at 2:30 a.m. I’ll be the first to admit that I pull out my phone in idle situations that might otherwise involve conversing with strangers. But I found the polite conversation that the dining car requires refreshing. Sally and I were seated with two strangers for each of the seven meals we had on the train, and all were pleasant, interesting companions. Even better was watching my daughter smoothly rise to the challenge of seven consecutive “So what do you want to study in college?” questions. (She isn’t sure yet.) Especially memorable was meeting the grandson of a recently deceased literary legend, who was returning from the funeral. Our conversation continued in the cafe car, where he offered my daughter kind and helpful observations on his own college experience. A big allure of the Zephyr is the scenery, specifically the two giant mountain ranges it crosses. After a morning stop in Denver, the train begins its long, wandering path through the Rockies, with breathtaking views around every turn. Later come the Sierra Nevada mountains of eastern California, where we ooohed and aaahed at the sweeping vistas through Donner Pass. In Berkeley, I booked the Graduate hotel thinking it was a playful take on the college town’s role in the famous 1967 movie. Spoiler alert: It isn’t. But it is part of a Chicago-based chain of boutique, college-adjacent hotels. We were able to enjoy a quirky, comfortable home base and get a good sense, beyond the traditional tour, of both the town and the University of California, Berkeley, which was across the street. Few things make one look more like a dorky tourist than participating in a Segway tour. But a sketchy outfit in San Diego once let my daughter ride one when she was 7, so we honored the memory by joining a tour in San Francisco. Highly recommended, optics be damned. And shame on you if you visit San Francisco and don’t venture north to Muir Woods. Our hike among the mighty coastal redwoods was sublime. Our first leg of the drive south was a challenge, as it was a spectacularly good beach day, with all the traffic that brings. We were rewarded in Monterey with a balcony room at the Monterey Plaza Hotel, and my daughter and I soon found ourselves standing over the ocean, mesmerized by the seals and otters playing below. I was skeptical of the hotel restaurant, as I live by the rule that eateries with spectacular views are often good but rarely great. But Schooners Coastal Kitchen was the latter, especially the cioppino, which exploded with flavor. Day two of our 500-mile drive was everything you’d expect from one of the world’s great motorways. With mountains on our left and the broad, majestic Pacific on our right, it was all we could do to not stop at every scenic turnout. When researching hiking options along the Big Sur coast, we found the Jade Cove Trail online. But we had to ask some locals for help finding it in real life. A short walk through some thick vegetation later, and there we were top a sheer cliff, peering over a breathtaking green, rocky inlet. We searched in vain for a path down, finally spotting a knotted rope disappearing over the edge. No thanks. Later, we found a more accessible inlet and dipped our toes in. A sign at our Big Sur lunch spot, Whale Watcher Cafe, declared “No WIFI!”in a polite but coldy, handwritten scrawl near the cash register. Good for them. We watched for whales instead. (No luck.) We got our taste of Southern California beach culture in Santa Barbara. Mary used her frequent flyer miles to book the Californian, an upscale, elegantly casual spot across the street from Stearns Wharf. It was worth the splurge, but there were any number of worthy options along Cabrillo Boulevard, the beach strip. Claremont, home to Pomona College, was our final stop. We had to put up with nearly three hours of LA traffic to reach it, but that memory took a backseat as we cruised the streets lined with dreamy purple jacaranda trees. Our hotel, Hotel Casa 425, was another excellent walk-to-campus find. You might have noticed that in this story about college visits, I haven’t said much about the colleges. They were great. And lovely. Far better, though, was the unhurried time for conversation … and silence. And I’ll always remember the smile I had trundling down an old wooden staircase behind my wife and daughter, the kind of women who’d rather stop and but their feet in the Pacific than push through to the next hotel. John Carpenter is a freelance writer

By JOHN CARPENTER (This article first appeared in the Chicago Tribune April 14, 2017) My first trip on a Lake Michigan ferry was 25 years ago, and it didn’t go as planned. I was working a Saturday shift at the Chicago Sun-Times, facing a six-hour, late-night drive to Frankfort, Mich., to meet my then-girlfriend/now-wife. There was a story in the paper about the SS Badger, a ferry between Wisconsin and Michigan. I’d read about crossing the lake by ferry in William Least Heat-Moon’s 1982 road-trip classic, “Blue Highways: A Journey into America,” and always wanted to give it a try. A plan was hatched. I’d book myself on the midnight boat, walk the decks a bit and maybe have a beer or two, then spend the rest of the four-hour crossing sleeping in my car. We’d hit the dock in Ludington, Mich., at 5 a.m., and I’d roll into Frankfort for breakfast, bearing tales of my trans- great Lake adventure. Did I mention I’m not one of those people who reads the fine print? “Oh no,” the friendly Northern accent told me as I rolled up to the loading dock and tried to wave him off. “We load and unload the car for ya. No access to the vehicles during the crossing.” Thus did I come to lie out under a blanket of stars, slightly shivering on a more-or-less comfortable deck chair, lulled in and out of sleep by the thrumming of the steam engines beneath me, and the surging water all around. Don’t get the idea that this is a typical Badger crossing. Many people spend the extra $49 on a stateroom, which I did years later when traveling with my toddler son. Others curl up in one of the many warm and comfortable seating areas inside. And there’s only one overnight boat. Most people cross the lake during the day or evening. What they all share is the pleasure of turning a routine travel experience — the hectic drive out of Chicago, under the lake, and up into Michigan — into something memorable. You don’t need to take one of the two Lake Michigan ferries. Neither will save you time or money. I’m here to tell you that you should, at least once. The aforementioned Badger is the elder of the two Lake Michigan boats, having operated daily, three-season service between Manitowoc, Wis., and Ludington since 1953. At just over 400 feet with a capacity of 600 people and 180 cars, it’s more like a ship than a ferry. And there is a pleasant sense of stepping back in time, to when travel was more of an event. Passengers can walk the decks or sit out on the deck chairs. And there’s plenty of seating inside, along with a small movie theater, a museum and a snack bar. The staterooms are spartan but more than comfortable enough for the few hours they’re needed. The high-speed Lake Express, running from Milwaukee to Muskegon, Mich., is more like a typical ferry, making the trip in 2.5 hours. Launched in 2004, its passenger area is newer than the Badger, with comfortable seats and handy tables. Screens overhead generally show a kid-friendly movie, with sound available on headphones, which is also helpful for those more interested in reading a book or getting some work done. It’s possible to walk on deck, but the wind and speed of the boat makes the experience more exhilarating than relaxing. Neither boat will save you money from Chicago. The Badger is $59 each way per adult, plus $59 for your car. A stateroom adds a single charge of $49. The Lake Express is $91.50 per adult, plus $101 for your car. There is a “premier” cabin aimed at business travelers, with a $113 one-way ticket getting you complimentary Wi-Fi, electrical outlets and other amenities. Both boats have discounted rates for children, with little ones under 5 sailing for free. Both also offer rates for trucks, trailers, RVs, motorcycles and bicycles. As for me, I’ll always remember that first trip, sleeping under a dark sky and being grateful for the big fleece pullover I fortuitously bought at an outlet mall on the drive up to Manitowoc. A group of bikers next to me shared stories of their ride across the Great Plains from South Dakota. And a family of five hustled onto the forward deck and staked a claim, arranging deck chairs into a huge bed which they covered with sleeping bags and pillows for an epic family sleep-out. I haven’t pulled that one off with my brood yet. We travel to northern Michigan several times a year, and we usually drive because it simply makes more sense. Still, my kids have sailed on each of the Lake Michigan ferries at least once. And while one never knows what lessons children truly absorb, here’s hoping they’ve at least learned that life is too short to always take the way that “makes more sense.” John Carpenter is a freelance writer. The SS Badger operates between Manitowoc, Wis., and Ludington, Mich., from May 19 through Oct. 15 in 2017. The crossing time is four hours; 800-841-4243. The Lake Express makes 2.5-hour trips between Milwaukee and Muskegon, Mich., from April 28 through Oct. 23 this year; 866-914-1010.

By JOHN CARPENTER When it comes to excuses for a guys weekend, the NCAA men’s basketball tournament is as good as it gets. We can safely squeeze our heart-to-heart chats into the gaps between shouts at the ref and trips to the bar. And the nonstop game action of the first two rounds is the perfect accompaniment to commiseration over sputtering careers, thinning hairlines and busted brackets. Las Vegas is the default destination for this sort of thing, which I get. It has gambling, giant TV screens everywhere, gambling, cheap hotels, gambling and, oh yeah, gambling. But I’ve done March Madness Vegas. I’ve wandered from sports book to sports book looking for seats among the herds of pasty dudes (like me) in cargo shorts and size-too-small college T- shirts. It isn’t pretty. What I recommend is getting a few of your pals together, picking one of the first-round cities and booking a trip. The atmosphere will be festive. The basketball will be good, and possibly great. And you’ll still get actual time with old friends, a precious commodity in an age when “keeping in touch” is too often done sitting alone, staring at a screen. Each city will host first- and second-round games, played either Thursday and Saturday, or Friday and Sunday. This means that on “off days” in your city, there will be a full slate of games on television. Nashville Friday, March 16, and Sunday, March 18 Hard to argue with the Music City as a destination for tournament watching. It’s a quick flight from Chicago. And the downtown district has more than enough taverns for postgame revelry, with the added benefit of a steady supply of live music if the games get boring. There are also side trips for music fans, starting with the Grand Ole Opry, of course. And while I’ve only been to the gift shop at the Johnny Cash Museum, it made me want to come back for a deeper look. And my fellow “American Pickers” fans will want to check out their Nashville store. Pro tip: Try the breakfast at Pancake Pantry. It’s not far from Vanderbilt, which itself isn’t far from downtown. Pittsburgh Thursday, March 15, and Saturday, March 17 This may be the best sleeper choice on the list of first-round cities. There are multiple entertainment districts to choose from for after-game fun, including the Strip District, which is closest to downtown, and the North Shore neighborhood across the river from downtown, near PNC Park. It offers the most Wrigleyville-like sports bar experience, if that’s your thing. It’s also close to Rivers Casino. Consider staying in the Shadyside neighborhood, not far from the University of Pittsburgh. You’ll be jostling for room at the bar with Pitt grad students, but it has a less-touristy feel and a nice selection of restaurants. An off-beat favorite tavern is Le Mardis Gras. It allows cigar smoking — a guys-weekend plus — but it’s hardly a sports bar. If the weather is good, follow the tourists to one of the “inclines,” either the Monongahela or Duquesne. These funiculars reward riders with spectacular panoramic views of the city and the three rivers that spawned it. San Diego March 16 and 18 It’s a long flight from Chicago but worth it if you happen to catch the city on one of the 365 days a year that the weather is perfect. The compact downtown makes it easily walkable, which, along with the weather, makes it a nice place to pub hop. Big hotels abound, but don’t be afraid of some of the off-the-beaten path boutique options like The Pearl, a refurbished, affordable spot near the beach, with an excellent little bar and a hip vibe. Detroit March 16 and 18 Don’t pass on Detroit just because it’s Detroit. The downtown has come a long way. And the new arena, along with Comerica Park and Ford Field, has birthed a robust restaurant and bar scene. When I visited in January, a winter carnival atmosphere was thriving downtown, with pop-up shops and a bustling lodge-style warming tent, complete with a bar and giant versions of games like Jenga and Scrabble. I expect a similar festive atmosphere for the NCAA tournament. The assembly-line tour of the Ford F-150 plant in suburban Dearborn appeals to most guys. There’s also casino gambling both downtown and across the river in Canada, which will require a passport or other acceptable documentation. Insider tip: Grab a Lyft to the Cadieux Cafe on the city’s East Side. This Belgian-themed, eighborhood gem boasts an impressive menu of Belgian beers, along with the nation’s only feather bowling lanes (think bocce, but with wooden, wheel-of-cheese-sized balls, played on a concave lane). Dallas March 15 and 17 I have a personal bias against Dallas for the same reason I don’t like Phoenix. Too much shiny glass and too many brassy steakhouses. But don’t listen to me. It’s easy to get to. The sports bar game is strong. And brassy steakhouses usually serve really good steaks. Plus you can rent a car and drive around looking at big things. Wichita March 15 and 17 My trip to the most populous city in Kansas was to report a story on the state’s efforts to make teaching creationism the law, so I didn’t spend much time in sports bars. But it’s the kind of small city that can be perfect for this type of guys trip. Let’s face it. A lot of dudes are simply looking for a comfortable hotel and a sports bar that serves cold beer and chicken wings. Is there more to do in Wichita? Probably. But if your priorities are the basketball and beery fellowship, this may be a winner. Boise March 15 and 17 Probably low on the list from a logistical standpoint. But if you can make the flights work, Idaho’s capital has the same small-city advantages as Wichita, with a lot more natural beauty. If you want to really do it right, give your group an extra day or two and drive over to Sun Valley. Charlotte March 16 and 18 The busy airport makes this North Carolina city easy to get to. And the folks there are nutty about their college basketball, so the atmosphere will be festive. But the state’s efforts to limit the rights of transgender people might be a deal-breaker for some or all of your posse. Next rounds … While the first-round weekend offers the most action as the field of 64 is whittled down to 16, don’t overlook round two. With most of the weak teams eliminated, the action can be even more intense. Second-round host cities this year are Omaha, Los Angeles, Atlanta and Boston. Three of these are prime locations for sports-themed trips. And Omaha is, um, less expensive. This year’s Final Four is in San Antonio, a great place to visit if you like river walks. Kidding, sort of. Its famed River Walk can be a bit Navy Pier-ish with its tourist-heavy vibe, but this 300-year-old city is an offbeat mix of Tex and Mex that’s a welcome antidote to the bustling braggadocio of Dallas and Houston. (This article originally appeared in the Chicago Tribune in 2018)

There are places that come to mind before Green Bay, Wisconsin when I think of a rejuvenating getaway. But that’s just what I got when I wandered north in search of something different after months of Covid confinement. It was more than just the fresh northern air and friendly people that did it for me. I found a lively craft brewing scene complemented by better restaurants than I remember from my last visit. I found an array of the kind of outdoor activity I was looking for as we still navigate the coronavirus. I found clean, comfortable, reasonably priced lodging. And I was pleasantly surprised when I wrapped up my visit at the National Railroad Museum, allowing me to think happy thoughts about my recently deceased, train-loving father for a few hours, imagining how much he would have enjoyed walking through the spectacular exhibits with me. Green Bay is most famous for the Packers, of course. And football fans can certainly get their fix from a visit and tour of the fabled Lambeau Field. But it’s also a pleasant landing spot for a relaxing, economical visit. It started when a travel industry colleague suggested Green Bay as a spot worth writing about. I hesitated, as one does in a global pandemic. But we quickly started putting together an itinerary that would allow me to keep my distance, knowing that I could drive rather than take any sort of public transportation. Spurred on by the allure of simply being somewhere other than my house, I made my plans. Would it have been more fun with my wife and kids? Certainly. We’re a biking family and would have hit the trails every day. But I’d been with my wife and kids 24-7 for months. This was alone time, and Green Bay gave me everything I needed without making me feel guilty for over-spending on such self-indulgence. You can get to Green Bay from Chicago via interstate highways, and my drive started with the usual mad dash out of the city. But I’d left earlier than needed precisely so I could jump off I-94 just short of the Wisconsin border. It was back roads for the rest of the way, and I was rewarded with one striking view after another as I wandered up and down gentle rolling hills. Much of the Midwest is flatland. And the corn and soybean fields are spread like green and brown fitted sheets. But Wisconsin, shaped millions of years ago by the marching and retreating glaciers, is an expanse of bumps and valleys. The geometric lines of planted fields and pastures meet each other at angles, framed by red barns and silver silos, and laced by the two-lane roads and two-track driveways. Every turn paints another landscape, and I was relaxed and thirsty when I finally approached Green Bay from the south. I headed straight for the Stillmank Brewery, which is located in a quiet neighborhood south of downtown. This I took as a good sign. I’m wary of craft breweries that look more like themed restaurants – places where too much of the budget goes toward interior design rather than beer quality. Stillmank is a brewery first, with a modest but friendly tasting room. Still nervous about social distancing, my plan was to grab a beer and sit at a picnic table outside. But the place was all but empty on a Sunday afternoon, so I masked up and found a quiet corner all to myself. First up on the tasting list was Hazy Dayz, a hoppy New England IPA that hit the spot. Although not a fan of Strong Bitters, I sampled Wisco Disco simply because of the name. It’s a great name. Speaking of great names, I was among the first to sample 2020 – Welcome to the Shitshow, a concoction made in honor of the strange year we are living in. The beer was better than the year. I should pause to note that, while my Hazy Days was a pleasantly full pilsner glass, all other samples were just that, samples. This is important to note because my next stop was Badger State Brewing Company. Again, I was pleased to find that this is a brewery first and a tasting room second. It also boasts a large and comfortable outdoor beer garden, where I enjoyed a Coffee Stout. Again, I was pleased to find that this is a brewery first and a tasting room second. It also boasts a large and comfortable outdoor beer garden, where I enjoyed a Coffee Stout. For dinner I chose The Turn because it offered a patio. It’s a glitzy sports bar featuring a variety of virtual games in large simulator bays – a great spot for a group outing. And my Spotted Cow, from the New Glarus Brewery in Southern Wisconsin, was a perfect complement to a well-made Caesar salad with grilled chicken. I was staying at the Radisson Hotel and Conference Center, which is attached to the Oneida Casino. I’m as eager to play a few hands of black jack as the next guy, and the casino was equipped with plexi-glass partitions and lots of hand sanitizer. Still, I was content to hang in my very comfortable room and rest up for golf the next day. Thornberry Creek at Oneida is billed as “the official golf course of the Green Bay Packers,” and the team logo adorns the grass just off the fairway on the first tee. It was easy to accommodate my Covid-driven request for an unaccompanied round on a Monday morning, and the course did not disappoint. The Rick Jacobsen-design courses take advantage of the rolling terrain, lush greenery, and meandering lakes and streams. The challenge brought out the best in this high-handicapper, and I was pleased to write a 92 on my scorecard when the round was done. My reward was a delicious club sandwich and a cold beer in the clubhouse afterward. One of Green Bay’s great benefits is location. It’s accessible by air into the neatly efficient Straubel Airport. But it’s a relatively short drive from Chicago, and it’s far enough north to feel, well, far enough north. It’s also perched at the gateway both to lovely Door County, and the rustic North Woods. But the city itself is not without its geographic appeal. While one might think of it as coastal, sitting astride the beautiful bay it is named after, downtown Green Bay feels more like the river town it also is. City planners have done an excellent job of turning the Fox River waterfront into a fun, pleasant community gathering spot. In my bike ride along the river from the Broken Spoke bike shop, where owner George Kapitz will be happy to fit you out with a bike rental, I saw couples enjoying late afternoon cocktails in Hagemeister Park, a young family enjoying cooling splash-pad fountains, and plenty of solo walkers, joggers and bikers. It was easy to imagine the place hopping on a summer evening, enjoying live music that is a regular feature. Across the river from the trail are two of the city’s many breweries, Copper State https://www.copperstate.beer/ and Titletown. I picked Titletown so I could check out the rooftop bar, and wasn’t disappointed. The spacious 5th-floor taproom opens on to an expansive patio, with views of downtown and the river. The most pleasant surprise of my trip was the National Railroad Museum. With a playground and actual train ride, it’s very kid friendly. But I was more interested in the impressive collection of actual train cars and locomotives. As the son of a railroad historian, I spent a good deal of my childhood observing trains with my dad, who died earlier this year. Standing next to a mighty Union Pacific Big Boy locomotive – longer than two city buses and heavier than a Boeing 747 – it was easy to imagine why my father fell in love with steam engines as a boy. And right next to it in the museum is what I consider to be the most beautiful locomotive ever made, the Pennsylvania Railroad GG-1 electric. If you are all interested in trains and train travel, this museum is worth a stop. Green Bay also offers a nice selection of outdoor activities, from the aforementioned Fox River bike trail, to the Bay Beach Wildlife Sanctuary, a well-maintained park that features several nice walking trails and learning opportunities. A number of small companies offer fishing charters. Could I have visited a larger city with more things to do? Of course. But for a relaxed, enjoyable, economical getaway, Green Bay hit the spot for me. #CraftBeer #GreenBay #GreenBayPackers #Wisconsin

By JOHN CARPENTER SOUTH KINGSTOWN, R.I. I tasted the ocean in the air as I sat on the outdoor deck at Matunuck Oyster Bar, the ebbing tide draining a few feet from our table into the Great Salt Pond and from there to the sea. Littlenecks were ordered. A cold beer had just arrived. I sipped, and it occurred to me that maybe I shouldn’t write this story. Why share the lovely little secret that is the rest of Rhode Island? Why risk drawing the tourists out of Newport, the only place they know, and letting them ruin the modest, beachy simplicity that hasn’t changed a whole lot since my parents brought me to Point Judith as an infant in 1962. I suppose the answer, other than that writers should write what they know, is that the southern tip of Rhode Island’s mainland will always be surrounded by other nice places to go. What harm could it do to spread the word about this slower-paced version of the classic summer beach vacation spot? Less crowded than New England’s more popular destinations, it’s a bit more affordable and every bit as beautiful. First, the beaches. The best, if you like ocean surf, is Scarborough State Beach, just north of Point Judith. If the waves are running high, brace yourself for some knock-down rollers. No surfing is allowed here. But smaller “boogie boards” are, and they can be bought in the gift shop. Just up the road in Narragansett is the town beach where surfing is allowed, with board rentals and lessons available. Roger W. Wheeler State Beach near Galilee may be a better option for families with little kids, as it sits inside the protective waters of the Point Judith Harbor of Refuge. The waves are small. If you can’t stay for a whole week or prefer hotel amenities, take a look at Narragansett. Huddled up against the ocean shore, it was once a playground for the rich, before they discovered Newport. Now it’s home to a beautiful town beach, as well as a pleasant colony of inns and hotels. Among the more popular are The Break, Ocean Rose Inn and Atlantic House. Midsummer room rates can run into the mid-$300s per night — not exactly budget travel, but generally cheaper than you’ll find in more popular destinations, like Newport. Our favorite restaurants are Trio and Coast Guard House, the latter perched on rocks, literally hanging over the ocean. If you really must see Newport, its many hotels are minutes away. Indeed, proximity is one of the benefits of Rhode Island vacationing. Visitors typically fly into Providence, which is just over half an hour from Point Judith. Boston is less than two hours away. For my money, cottage or condo rental is the way to see the real Rhode Island. This is not a what’s-the-next-tourist-attraction kind of place. There’s nothing like having a kitchen table for card games; a lawn for cocktails. The rental market, driven both by summer vacationers and students at the nearby University of Rhode Island, offers many options. You’ll find good selections at Durkin Cottage Realty and Lila Delman Real Estate. Besides hanging out at the beach with a good book, you can rent kayaks and paddleboards for a more active experience. Fishing charters are available, mostly out of Galilee. The area also is well-stocked with the usual family diversions, like putt-putt golf and bumper boats. A favorite for our brood is a visit to “the rocks,” vast stretches of jagged coastline ideal for picnicking and exploring. Ask a local for directions (everyone has a favorite spot), but be mindful not to get too close to the pounding surf. There’s an ocean tide here, and rocks that are often submerged can get slippery. Local eating is essential to any vacation. Favorite options include the seafood joint Aunt Carrie’s near Point Judith. Unchanged for decades, it offers classic Rhode Island fare. Do yourself a favor, and order your clam chowder “plain” or “clear.” That’s the Rhode Island style, without the heavy cream. The seafood spot Champlin’s in Galilee is another favorite. It has an elevated deck to watch the fishing boats come and go. Highly recommended, and available everywhere, are clam cakes, fried balls of clam-filled batter that, as far as I can tell, are only eaten in Rhode Island. New on the culinary scene is the aforementioned Matunuck Oyster Bar, Rhode Island’s take on farm-to-table cuisine. Started in 2009 by oyster fisherman Perry Raso, who runs a 7-acre aquaculture farm in nearby Potter Pond, the lauded fare is simple, fresh and expertly prepared. Set on the banks of Great Salt Pond, it’s the kind of place that just might serve up the best meal you’ve ever eaten. Point Judith Lighthouse is worth a visit, as well, even if just to park the car and look out at the ocean. (Tip: Buy some clam cakes. Drive to the lighthouse. Sit. Eat. Breathe. Relax. You’re welcome.) One of our family traditions is buying lobster fresh off the boats in Galilee, a bustling fishing village. Most lobsters go to restaurants and retailers, but there are always a few hand-made signs at the end of the docks, offering the freshly caught crustaceans for cash. The lobsters are stored in cages hanging off the boats. There’s nothing quite like seeing your dinner emerge from the water, still alive and moving. Then it’s home to — if you’re lucky — an outdoor shower. There you can stand under a stream of fresh water in the fading light, washing the salt and sand from your sun-soaked skin. The fresh cotton shirt you throw on afterward will feel as good as any piece of clothing you’ve ever worn, ideally followed by the beverage of your choice, a lawn, an Adirondack chair, and a passel of family and friends. (This article first appeared in the Chicago Tribune May 8, 2017. It has also appeared in the Los Angeles Times, the Hartford Courant, and other publications.)

By JOHN CARPENTER When my teenage son showed me a list of potential colleges that included Duke and Vanderbilt, my first thought should have been to log on to one of the many stress-fueling college research tools available online. Instead, it was this: minor league baseball road trip. It didn’t take me long to find three straight August evenings that the Nashville Sounds, the Asheville Tourists and the Durham Bulls were playing at home. Our 2016 College Tour/Baseball Road Trip was born. Maybe adding baseball to the itinerary was my small blow against the college admission pressure cooker. More likely it was a slightly panicked, ex-Little-League-coach dad’s realization that someday soon it won’t be so easy to catch a game with my son. Still shaking out the cobwebs from our early flight, I watched our Nashville rental car agent make that “something’s wrong” face as he looked at the screen. But he quickly smiled. “Good news,” he said. “All we have is a full-size SUV, so we’ll give you that.” I’m not a big fan of rolling behemoths, but we tossed our two small travel bags in the cavernous cargo space and climbed up to our perches, at least one of us secretly pretending we were in a good-old-boy pickup. “Find some country music!” I commanded, guiding our hulk out of the parking garage. “On it,” Patrick said. Vanderbilt University in Nashville is lovely and quite impressive. Like all parents my age, I stifled the “we had it tough” urge as we perused the luxurious housing options. I listened dutifully and made a few mental notes about the curriculum, and then I Googled the fried chicken spot the admissions officer mentioned. That’s how we ended up at Hattie B’s for lunch. The hot chicken didn’t disappoint, though I spent much of the meal in eye-watering pain, having boldly reached for the top rung of the spice ladder. We’d chosen a hotel near Vanderbilt, which meant we were in the heart of “music row,” where every other house or building seems to be a recording studio. It’s also a handful of blocks from downtown. Nashville’s Broadway is mostly one bar after another, all offering live music. We did a gift-shop tour of the Johnny Cash Museum, which seemed worth a return visit. Then it was on to the Ernest Tubb Record Shop, where we flipped through some vinyl and enjoyed a brief history of the place from the helpful clerk. The Nashville Sounds’ First Tennessee Park is in a sketchy but easy-to-get-to part of town. We parked easily (even in our truck!) and cheaply. Our seats — $15 — were behind third base in the front row. Minor league baseball, unlike college, is affordable. It was Elvis night (of course), and we were treated to alternating impersonators, one serious, the other wearing a fat suit and going by the name Plump Presley. Another highlight was a run around the field by three absurdly tall mascotlike figures, in the tradition of Milwaukee’s sausage race. The Nashville version features the likenesses of Reba McEntire, George Jones and Johnny Cash. Back at the hotel, we searched for the best breakfast near Vanderbilt. The Pancake Pantry offered my first taste of cinnamon cream syrup, a pleasant alternative to the maple kind. Our drive to Asheville, N.C., was marred slightly by intermittent rain. But we arrived in time to check into the Windsor, my son’s introduction to a vintage-cool boutique hotel. Raised on travel lodgings far less cool, he was impressed. Asheville is a lovely little hipster heaven, loaded with tasty restaurants, funky boutiques and more opportunities to sample craft beer than you could shake an artisanally carved stick at. At Wicked Weed Brewing, I ordered a “Coolcumber,” a hoppy, cucumber-inspired brew that was so surprisingly good I had to double-check that I liked it. Yup. The second one was just as good. Asheville’s McCormick Field is, from a classic American baseball standpoint, as good as it gets. The Tourists are an A-level team, so it’s a notch down in size from the home of the AAA Nashville Sounds. But the field is nestled into the side of a hill a short walk from downtown, heightening the intimacy. Our $11 seats were fine. But I noticed a single row of seats on the field next to each dugout and a few feet from home plate. I paid an additional $19 to move us down to the front row. The band-shell shape of the stadium and the hill overlooking the outfield amplified the crowd noise. Only a few thousand of us were cheering, but it sounded like Wrigley in October. Back at the hotel I Googled “best breakfast.” One suggestion was right downstairs. You know how all food show hosts lean their heads back and moan when they take the first bite of something? That was me after tasting the breakfast tacos — one of the best breakfast things this 54-year-old lover of breakfast things has ever eaten — at Asheville’s Over Easy Cafe. We were well-fed as we began the five-hour drive to Durham, N.C. Duke University’s campus, arrayed around the spectacular Duke Chapel Tower, was perhaps more impressive than Vanderbilt’s. It was also, depending on how you looked at it, either more isolated or more self-contained. A slightly discounted rate of $229 put the Washington Duke Inn — a stately golf resort across the street from campus — within our budget. Feeling more like a country club than a hotel, it was welcoming and worth the price. We had lunch in the tastefully understated Bull Durham Bar. Thanks to the movie of almost the same name, the Durham Bulls are the most famous minor league baseball team in America. The 10,000-seat Durham Bulls Athletic Park is a lean, well-designed modern stadium. It lacks the natural hominess of Asheville’s little sandbox, but it’s not so big that you feel small. It features the usual baseball fare, along with local offerings like pulled pork with beans and coleslaw. Outstanding. One homage to the 1988 movie is a large bull sign over the left field fence. We were excited when Audry Perez of the Norfolk Tides hit a rocket over the left field wall, striking the bull dead center with a loud thunk. We leaned forward in our seats, waiting for the tail to wag and smoke to come out of the nose, as in the film. Nothing. “The tail only wags when one of our guys hits it,” said a friendly local across the aisle from us. (Note to Durham Bulls: Fix that.) Our seats were great, behind home plate. But we made it a point to stroll around, taking in an inning from the railing high atop the left field wall, next to the aforementioned bull. Back in our seats for the final innings of the game — and our road trip — I felt good about making this small journey happen. We learned about two great schools. And we talked about future plans in the relaxed way one does while driving, or eating a delicious breakfast, or propped up in hotel beds at the end of a long day watching Sports Center. Or sitting at a baseball game. (Note: This story originally appeared in the Chicago Tribune. It has also appeared in the Los Angeles Times.)

By JOHN CARPENTER (This article first appeared in the Chicago Tribune Aug. 7, 2017) Few golfing moments are more rewarding than standing on an elevated tee box in a long-sleeves breeze, filling your chest with crisp Northern Michigan air, and looking out over an explosion of reds, yellows and oranges crowding around the lush geometry of greens and fairways. We who are lucky enough to live in a place where nature resets the scenery every few months know the sublime pleasure of golf in the fall. It’s like a bottle of port from the chef’s collection, shared with a few special diners just before closing time. Getting away from the sprawling flatness of Chicago to enjoy it is step one, of course. And while options abound to the north, west and even south, those of us who know their way to the northwest corner of Michigan will tell you that the six-hour drive — or a short flight into Traverse City — is a small price to pay for the great rounds that await. Quick disclaimer: Any discussion of Northern Michigan golf in the fall must acknowledge the weather. If you’re there when the leaves are at their brightest, you’re also there when the weather has begun its slide into winter. That means 60 degrees and sunny one day might be 35 and cloudy the next. Bring warm clothes. And be prepared to go with the flow. (I’ve always found that the best “flow” on a cold day can be found in any of the cozy taverns scattered through these parts, but a warm fire and a good book also work.) That being said, when the fall weather is good up here in Michigan’s pinkie — hold your hand up with the palm facing out; we’re talking about the area in the top of your pinkie, with Traverse City perched about halfway up the outside of your ring finger — it’s as good as it gets. Not only does this area offer a variety of golfing options, including a few of the top courses in the country, it spaces them out just enough to require pleasant drives through trees and orchards. (This is cherry and apple country, with several respectable vineyards.) The best road for this sort of wandering is M-22, a popular scenic route whose alphanumeric symbol is the subject of many a bumper sticker and stolen highway sign. It runs from Manistee to Traverse City, wandering through Frankfort, Empire and Glen Arbor and around the Leelanau peninsula. A cozy cottage is an ideal option in this part of the world, offering a place where you can hunker down around a warm fire with a puzzle or a well-stocked game cabinet. And while this is an easy rental option for week-long trips — try Leelanau Vacation Rentals or Peninsula Vacation Rentals, if you have that much time — it doesn’t always work for shorter fall getaways. Some excellent resort options include The Homestead in Glen Arbor, Grand Traverse Resort in Acme, and Crystal Mountain in Thompsonville. Arcadia Bluffs, one of the best golf courses in the area, has beefed up its lodging choices to include both hotel rooms and on-site cottages. Traverse City has no shortage of places to stay, along with a lively little downtown. Frankfort also offers a nice selection for B&B lovers, as well as The Hotel Frankfort, an old-school downtown inn, and Harbor Lights Resort, with condo rentals steps away from beautiful beach sunsets. The best course along M-22 is Crystal Downs, a venerable beauty designed by Alister MacKenzie shortly before he created Augusta National, annual home of the Masters Tournament. Crystal Downs is one of Golf Digest’s top 20 courses in the country. But it’s also private. Unless you know a member, all you can do is drive by. (If you know a member and they invite you, drop everything and go play.) The good news is the best public option in the area is also highly rated. Arcadia Bluffs is perched on sandy terrain several hundred feet above Lake Michigan. No trees are on the course itself, but surrounding forests and rolling terrain make for great views. It’s a long and challenging course, with sod-wall bunkers and extra-large, undulating greens. (If you putt off one of them, you won’t be the first to do so.) It’s pricey, but the 18-hole rate drops from $190 to $85 after Oct. 4. Even at those rates, it’s crowded, so book ahead. Try to time your round to end at sunset. You’ll be rewarded with one of the best you’ve ever seen, ideally with a beverage in your hand and a birdie or two to brag about. If ever there were a golf course made for playing at the height of fall colors it’s Crystal Mountain, the fair-weather centerpiece of a small ski resort in Thompsonville, southwest of Traverse City. (It’s not exactly on M-22, but close.) While it may not be much of a mountain compared to, say, the Rockies, it is a large hill in the middle of densely forested acreage for miles in every direction. The Mountain Ridge course, one of two on the resort property, winds its way up and around the hilly terrain, with well-designed tee boxes that highlight the spectacular views. It also offers the benefits of a full resort, with amenities for non-golfers, and a cozy tavern for 19th hole activities. The area also has several lesser known, more affordable courses. While these may not have the polish and stature of the pricier tracks, many offer excellent value. One of my favorites is Champion Hill, just south of Honor, a few miles off M-22. Friendly service and a layout that makes the most of the hilly terrain make it a favorite stop, especially for high handicappers. Another bargain is Dunes Golf Club in Empire. This course has the added benefit of proximity to Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, where you can drive to the top of the massive sand piles for a view you won’t forget. We prefer to hike the Empire Bluff Trail, which rewards a brisk walk through the woods with breathtaking views of Lake Michigan and the nearby Manitou Islands. If you hike it, do yourself a favor and cap it off with a burger and a beer at Joe’s Friendly Tavern in Empire. If a modern, full-service resort and spa is what you’re looking for, Grand Traverse Resort and Spa 6 miles northeast of Traverse City is likely the best option. It’s self-contained, with three golf courses of its own. But it’s well situated for exploring the area. Definitely off the M-22 trail but worth a look for serious golfers are two other courses. One is Tullymore Golf Resort, tucked in the woods of Stanwood, about an hour north of Grand Rapids. It’s a full-service resort with two strong courses. The other is Forest Dunes, a Tom Weiskopf-designed track in picturesque Roscommon. Wherever you play, just remember that it’s OK to take your eye off the ball every now and then and enjoy the fall colors.