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Long and winding road home

The motivation came to me that it is just about time to replace my tent. The only way I can stretch out in it is to lay diagonal. Even then it feels like my feet and head are bushing against the tent walls. After a night of tossing and turning and some weird dreams induced from sleeping on a lumpy patch of earth I woke up at my leisure.

With no plan, no idea, and nothing better to do, and generally no clue I did the best thing possible. I ate breakfast. On my camp stove I put a wad of butter in a pot and cooked the chicken legs I picked up when I went for supplies. It took a while and I managed to get through another chapter while the legs turned a golden crispy brown. When I removed them from the pot they sparkled in the morning sunlight with all their fattening buttery goodness.

I broke camp around noon which took no time at all. The most difficult decision came when a choice had to be made concerning the excess wood I had in the truck. The previous night I managed to burn 2 of the 5 boxes of wood. Taking extra wood home seems like a waste and I often hate burning wood just for the sake of burning it. The wood was kiln dried, nicely boxed, I thought about offering it to someone for a couple dollars. The idea, for lack of a better word, weirded me out.

The neighbors had a large campsite and appeared to be a family on vacation. The previous night I saw them trying to chop up some logs and stick that they collected. They stuck me as good a place as any to give the wood to. It turns out they were from lower Michigan camping as a family. They were very grateful for the wood and the lady there said “God Bless You” twice, once when I offered and again when I returned to the site with the wood. The first time she said it I dismissed it as a common thank you, sort of like how people ask “How was your day” and then don’t wait for an answer. But the second time she said it I really started to think about the encounter. It wasn’t until I walked away that I wish I had thought to respond something like “Yes, God does bless and the gift of salvation through Jesus Christ is a great blessing indeed”.  I must be my character, quick to listen and slow to speak, some times. It wasn’t that I was ashamed to say something but I don’t understand why the reply came to mind well after the situation was over.

Well, packed up, and in the truck I made my way through the South Boundary Road to Presque Isle. I kept a close eye on the road because it might be a nice one to Mountain Bike across. It was a nice day for a drive and there was no traffic on the road. I drove along with the windows down listening to Paul Van Dyke “Nothing But You”.

I took two detours on my way home. One was a hike up to Summit Peak. The view was spectacular and there insects were extremely mild. The breeze was blowing and the sky was clear. The second stop was at the mouth of Presque Isle.

By the time I got back to down it was still early in the afternoon so I drove back out to Lake Superior and spent the afternoon with my parents and sisters at the beach. The water was very nice and I did some snorkeling.

One of the nicest Mondays I have had in a long time.

Porcupine Mountains or Bust

With a couple free days off work I decided it was time to unpack my camping gear and hit the road to see something new. Original plans were to go to Copper Harbor but the distance was farther than desired for such a short adventure. So the Porcupine Mountains were the next best place to go.

Due to various hiccups in my plans I didn’t depart home until late in the afternoon. After about 3 trips back home to get things I forgot to get the first time I finally made on the road and I wasn’t turning back. It is rare for me to forget so many things but I think forgetful is spontaneous’ cousin, or something.

I made it in plenty of time to setup my single person tent, eat, and read about 2 chapters in my Clive Cussler book before going to bed. Oh, and get a new camp site. By the time I made the campground I was tired and none too picky about where I stayed. After all, when you’ve seen one state camp ground you have just about seen them all. So instead of driving around to pick out a camp site I had the attendant pick a spot. There were about 110 sites in the camp ground and 15-20 were available. She assigned site 76 which turned out to be the worst site in the entire campground! It was small, right next to the communal shower/rest rooms, and had big cement access panels in the ground. I circled the camp ground once hoping that I was in the wrong branch or at the wrong number but alas. I chuckled to myself and went back to the office. Her supervisor was there when I returned and he knew exactly what I wanted when I walked in the door. She must have told him where she booked me and without a second thought I moved down to a much nicer camp site. I think she was extremely embarrassed but the ordeal but I thought it was cute, just par for the course.

The camp ground was alive with children running about and riding around on bikes and skateboards. The evening was beautiful with a nice summer breeze which carried all the sounds of a busy campground.

Things I ate; polish sausage cut in half and slow cooked over the fire, coconut covered marshmallows (ohhh yummy), and an apple pie sandwich made in a pie iron.