Yesterday was just spent hanging out at the campground; the last day of a seven day stay. I had an appointment at a tire shop in Marquette to get the RV tires rotated so I was up and out before anyone stirred. It was such a major eyeball hit to see the sun rising in the review mirror. The bright ruby red orb filled the whole truck mirror. Movin” west!!
At the tire shop the counter guy was asking me about my trip driving around the boundary of the nation. “I would think that it would be boring with all that driving.” A voice inside of me snapped, “Boring! Boring?? Don’t EVER use that word with me!! Hours of driving straight narrow highways by myself!! Boring?!!” I give the counter guy a tight-lipped smile. “I guess meeting people would be cool.” “Yes, it is.”
I walked out muttering to myself.
“Are you tried of traveling? Ready to come home?” the relative asked on the cell phone makes an entry on the brain awareness level. What the hell is going on? Back off!! I AM having fun. No, it is not boring. Yes, I’m having fun.
Travels with Charley – John Steinbeck: My journey started long before I left and was over before I returned. I know exactly where and when it was over. Near Abingdon, in the dog-leg of Virginia, at four o’clock of a windy afternoon, without warning or good-by or kiss my foot, my journey went away and left me stranded far from home. I tried to call it back, to catch it up – a foolish and hopeless matter, because it was definitely and permanently over and finished. The road became an endless stone ribbon, the hills obstructions, the trees green blurs, the people simply moving figures with heads but no faces.
I am not there yet. And I don’t think I will be. I love the surprise of the new place; the talking to the people of this country. As long as I am open and present I’ll be okay.
Porcupine Mountains State Park on Lake Superior was my destination for the day. [Sidebar: When I entered the United States at Port Huron, Michigan, I was braced for the cross examination from the Customs Officer. The question of “where are you going?” My answer brought back a warm and genuine response from the man about my age: “You’ve got to see the Porkies.”]
I pulled into the Porcupine Mountains State Park visitor center braced for what I knew was coming. “I would like to spend the night in the park campground.” “That will be $25.” “I have a RV pulling a car.” “That will be an additional $14.” “So to spend the night here in the park will cost $39?” “That’s correct.” “I have been staying in state parks since I started my trip six months ago with 12,000 miles of traveling. Michigan is the most expensive state that I have come across.” “We are proud of the fact that we are one of only seven park systems in the nation to receive zero state general tax financial support.” Hmmmm so the other 43 states have got it wrong?
When I walked through the parking lots of state facilities I noticed how many of the cars are from within state; few from out of state. Travelers from out of state quickly learn that the Michigan Park system is expensive for outsiders. I have spent two weeks in this state and just two nights were in state parks; the rest were in USFS campgrounds. $39 a night is too high.
The breakdown that I’ve experienced is that usually it’s $20 with not hookups; $25 for hookups. If there is an entry fee or vehicle fee, it’s usually under $5 and no fee for a boat trailer or tow car. Private RV parks charge $30 to $35 per night but with that you get a swimming pool, game room, laundromat. $39 at the entrance gate is a smack down.
The campground was located on the shores of Lake Superior and I found a spot right on the shore due to that it was after Labor Day and the crowds were gone. The lake was 50 feet from my door. It was an absolutely awesome site. I mellowed a little about the price.
After I setup camp, I drove to the summit ridge called the “Escarpment Trail” which looked off the edge of a resistant lava ridge to a glaciated valley below with Lake of the Clouds holding court in the valley floor. I nodded with approval. The border guy was right.
It was hot and when I returned to Snee-Oosh, I checked the thermometer; 88 degrees. What is this?? On went the A/C. But as night arrived so did a cold front and the temperature plummeted. At night I slept to the sound of waves breaking on the sandstone slabs that made up the beach directly behind my RV. Tuesday night I slept to the sounds that I heard so many nights when I lived on the beach on Pull n’ Be Damned Road on Fidaglo Island. The waves sounds were like a mama’s lullaby. I slept well that night
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