Martin does love a bit of mechanical engineering, especially if it’s at least a hundred years old. We drove south from Wisconsin into Illinois to go to the North Illinois Steam Society Threshing Bee. It was a get together of steam and tractor enthusiasts, with hundreds of magnificent old machines and interesting characters. It was very similar to the Traction Engine Rally that we went to as kids at Carrington on Lincolnshire Fens. The enormous steam engines would have less power than a modern small car and took a lot of work to operate. Every one of them was a labour of love by their very proud owners. There was a sale to support the society, and I bought three brand new baseball caps and three old copies of National Geographic for $3, quite a bargain.
The guy below was my favourite, with his straw hat, mutton-chop whiskers and bare feet!
There was a sale to support the society, and I bought three brand new baseball caps and three old copies of National Geographic for $3, quite a bargain. In fact, it came to $2.55, but having a big heart, I let them keep the change.
There were stalls manned by enthusiastic re-enactors with old wartime gear. one guy was dressed as a WW1 German soldier, who was showing off a large collection of hand grenades and tench maces. I’ll bet he had some trouble getting through airport security with that lot!
Our journey back to Eagle Spring Lake took us through typical Mid-West farmland, which was mile after mile of Soybeans and maize. That’s all there was, an agro-industrial duo-culture for creating food for beef cattle to make steaks and burgers.
Wisconsin has a tradition of the Friday night Fish Fry. Martin took us along to a local golf club, which was packed with eager fish eaters. Lizzie struck up a conversation with another couple, who really love the British Royal family. They wanted to know my opinion of them because I was a subject of the Queen. I think the Queen does a great job as Head of State, but otherwise, I don’t think about them much. The other fish eaters really didn’t like Prince Charles because of his dysfunctional relationship with Princess Diana. But I have never met them, I’m not interested in their private life, and quite honestly don’t give a shit.
My choice of fish was Walleye, and it came as a breaded fillet which could have been any white fish. It could easily have been that great favourite River Cobbler AKA Vietnamese Catfish that often appears in English supermarkets. The accompaniments were potato pancakes, coleslaw, rye bread, and some strange potato and bacon dish. It was all tasty and filling, but once was enough. I washed it down with a lager that came with a slice of orange in it, but it didn’t actually taste of orange. As a cultural experience, it was about as exotic as Fish and Chip Friday at Wetherspoons.
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