50 States, Day 100 Ellison Bay, WI to St. Ignace, MI 341 Miles
"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and
those who matter don't mind."
Yes, you read it right. Three hundred miles and change. What a marathon. Could be an Adventure record.
We decided to get to the U. P. (short for Upper Peninsula) because the tourist attractions are myriad. So off we went at the crack of nine-okay nine fifteen-and rode hard. Well... we did a bit of shopping and stopped at the Michigan Visitor Center. These places are great. They can hook you up for every museum, vista, attraction and historic artifact imaginable. And they give you a map. It's... like a Garmin, only paper. Ask your dad. Okay, ask your grandfather. The cool thing is the battery never goes dead.
Lots of Lake Michigan disappears over the horizon, sometimes the entire lake
evaporates into the sky. This is one big lake and today, parts of it featured
waves that would work for a surfer. It looked like the ocean. Signs warned of
sand blowing over the road. Amazing things for us desert rats.
Michigan wears more evergreen trees as we are at a higher latitude. Trucks
rumble past with eight foot logs stacked on them and their trailers too. Houses sit beside huge stores of firewood, a harbinger of their bitter cold winters. Sawmills appear once in a while, which cut them into lumber.
We rode the (PP!) Gold Wing in high seventy degree weather, not a cloud in the sky. I said to QG over the intercom, "We are living the dream!" And while every day we live the dream, some days are dreamier than others. Today got the airbrushed finish.
The time changed to Eastern, so we lost an hour getting to our destination. We rolled into the (PP!) KOA around half past six and set up adjacent to the
forest, with the sound of a rushing river in the background. No, that's the
highway. Can't have everything.
Since time ticked away, QG threw a can of chili on the (PP!) Coleman. Of course, she threw in some corn, a bunch of cheese and some spices. Voila, great chili. Now the sun has set, the wind swishes through the trees above, yet whispers around the tent. The trees seem to dissipate its veracity.
Tomorrow we ferry to Mackinac (pronounced 'makinaw', go figure) Island, where they forbid cars. We'll take a horse drawn carriage around the island and take in the sights. See you then. Thanks for following.