Lake Huron's Shore

The ride on the PALM's final day was a short one, planned to allow the riders plenty of time to reach Lake Huron's shore at Harbor Beach, in time for the parade. The bikers gathered by the Trescott Street Pier, some walking or riding out to its end, others dipping the tires of their bikes in the water of Lake Huron. After a lot of picture taking and congratulations, the riders mounted their bikes and rode through the streets in a parade of over 700 bikers, led by a police escort. It was a fun ending to an equally fun week.

Bad Axe

After Bay City, we rode on to Bad Axe, the dark skies and rain still following us. Our campsite at Bad Axe High School was unique; the campers surrounded the softball field and as luck would have it, the girls softball team had two games that evening. We had free entertainment, an open concession stand and after a brief shower, a rainbow...what luck!

Tobico Marsh

Wednesday, June 22nd, as soon as Kay left our campsite in Clare, I headed out towards Lake Huron and the Bay City Recreation Area. Van was feeling a little down, so I decided to give him a boost. While Van was sucking up the electricity at our temporary campsite, I decided to go exploring in the Tobico Marsh. The marsh is one of the largest freshwater coastal wetlands on the Great Lakes. I had been there plenty of times, exploring its trails and watching the migratory birds. This time I was on a different mission...to take a picture of a frog.

I've heard plenty of frogs and toads when I go out to survey at night, but I've never been able to take a picture of one. It was kind of embarrassing, I had a Frog and Toad page on my website, but the only frog I could find to feature, was a ceramic frog received as a gift. After several hours of wandering around on the marsh trails, hearing frogs in the distance, I was ready to give up. As I walked out on an observation deck to take one last look around, I heard a loud "boing", like the sound of a banjo string. Sitting at my feet, on a pile of reeds, looking straight into my eyes, was a Green Frog!

Slowly, I leaned over the railing of the deck and took a picture. He didn't move. Kneeling down, I continued to shoot. He didn't even blink. I crawled on my belly to the edge of the deck, right above the frog and kept shooting. I kept telling him, "Your skin is going to dry out, you need to get back in the water", but he didn't move. Finally, after taking tons of pictures in a lot of settings, (so I wouldn't blow my frog picture chance), I thanked the little frog, brushed myself off and headed, triumphantly, back to Van.

Here Comes The Rain Again

I got up early on Tuesday to take pictures of our camp before it started raining again, but not early enough. The sky was an odd, rosy-pink shade which made our Big Rapids camp glow, but it turned dark again as the rain started falling once more. The pace of the quiet camp quickly changed into a frenzy of activity, campers hurrying to pack up their tents and belongings, hoping to outrace the coming storm. Soon the neon-colored raincoats and ponchos provided the few bright spots of the day. And, of course, the coupons for free ice cream at Dairy Phil's, in Claire, our day's destination.

A Rainy Day

Monday morning and once again skies looked menacing as I left camp but this time they weren't teasing. I had only driven about a dozen miles from Hesperia when the rain began, pouring great sheets of water down on the windshield, impairing my view and forcing cars to pull off the road. I was fortunate enough to find shelter at a Walmart parking lot, where I waited out the deluge.

While I waited for the rain to end, I watched an Amish man, a young boy crouched by his side, drive an open buggy beyond the parked semis. After tying his buggy to a sturdy, metal hitching post and giving his sodden horse a pat on the neck, he grabbed the boy and raced to the shelter of the store.

I sent Kay a text, Wet? Not yet, she said. But...she did get wet, as did all of our group. That day our camp looked less like a wandering carnival and more like a refugee camp. On the plus side, our campsite was along the Muskegon River on the beautiful Big Rapids Middle School campus. The campus is next to a marvelous park with riverside trails, playgrounds and bridges. I spent several hours wandering about, exercising and soaking in the sights.

Hesperia To Big Rapids

I wandered around our camp on the grounds of the middle school, in Hesperia, taking pictures of the residents of our traveling village. Sometimes we look like a small army on the move, other times like an army of camp followers. Most often I think we look like a small circus, with performers dressed in brightly colored costumes, often with their tiny dogs trailing behind. We have our strong men and women, the talented bike repair folk, and, also our trick riders, those on tandem bikes, like my new favorite father-son act, William and Cole Swiernik.

On Lake Michigan's Shore

The 30th annual PALM started in Ludington, within walking distance of Lake Michigan. Ludington is a pretty little resort town, port for the S.S.Badger, the last and largest coal-powered carferry ever built. It sails across Lake Michigan between Michigan and Wisconsin.

After a night of pre-ride restlessness, Kay joined over 700 other riders for the first leg of the ride across the state. The skies were an ominous deep blue, warning of threatening weather to come. But, the dark skies were only a bluff, although the weather continued to tease the bikers, with the "bikers curse" of headwinds from every direction.

After tidying up Van, I headed up the coast to explore the beaches and trails of Ludington State Park. I ambled along the shore for a couple of miles, chasing waves and seagulls then, visited the guides and volunteer hosts at the Big Sable Pointe Lighthouse. After my walk, Van and I drove to meet Kay at our next stop, Hesperia.

Second Annual Sister Spin

You may remember, last summer my sister, Kay, and I took a trip across New York, along the Erie Canal. She biked the length while I followed along as a "sag" driver with Van. This weekend we'll be heading out on our Second Annual Sister Spin, only this time we'll be traveling across Michigan. She'll be biking in the 30th Annual PALM (Pedal Across Lower Michigan). Every year hundreds of bikers gather on Lake Michigan's shore and bike across the state, ending at Lake Huron. Each year the route is different from the previous year, but they always cross the "palm" of Michigan's mitten.

I have the easy part of the trip. While Kay is struggling up and down the hills, usually in high temps and miserable humidity, I'm driving along in air-conditioned comfort, stopping as I please to stretch my legs or take pictures. Since I'm not a biker, the whole concept of the trip is alien to me. I enjoy meeting the bikers, and seeing new sights, though, and as always traveling with my sister is a joy.

Golden Treasure

Earlier this week I went looking for frogs and toads with an expert surveyor who has been surveying since 2000. While I wander about trying to identify frog and toad calls on my one section, she manages to survey eight sections. We surveyed along Johnson Creek in Northville Township where we heard plenty of tree frogs and green frogs and were harassed by a lot of mosquitoes.

The next day I went out to see what the area looked like in the daytime. I didn't stay long because the mosquitoes were even worse than the night before. On the way out I found a little bit of treasure---a tiny orange butterfly on a golden blossom.

Next, I went to my section in Plymouth Township, to see what was happening there. The insects were busy finding treasure on their blossoms, too.

Losing It

I was going to tell you I haven't written lately because I was waiting for a momentous occasion to write about. Something like a relaxing visit to an exotic location, a scary misadventure on a roadtrip, or perhaps the discovery of a new species of frog in my garden. Instead, I'm forced to tell you the truth---I couldn't find my laptop. Don't laugh, it wasn't completely my fault.

I have an apartment and office in the basement of my parents' home. I've lived there since I sold my house to my daughter and her husband about seven years ago. It's an ideal arrangement. I help my mom and dad out around the house and, until recently, they would watch my dog when I traveled.

About a week ago my parents and I were playing our daily morning game of cards. Or, as I like to call it, Social Hour at the Old Folks' Home. While we were sitting in the sunroom playing, we were also watching a massive rainstorm outside. Nearly two inches of rain fell in a period of about twenty minutes. After the game, I went downstairs to find over an inch of water on the floor of the basement. (A basement which had been dry for over fifty years.)

I quickly moved everything I could off of the floor, then started spreading out towels, cotton blankets and anything I could find to soak up the water. After over a week of moving furniture, throwing away damaged belongings, borrowing dehumidifiers, ripping up and throwing away all of the carpeting and foam padding, and mopping and disinfecting the floors, I was ready to get back into my regular routine. But, first, I had to find my laptop.

After quite a long period of increasingly frantic searching I found it patiently waiting--- right where I'd left it. Of course. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.