|
email publication
of the signing community
about
on the spot:
|
Clerc Scar 5.127 July 2009
=====
=====
Chapter 12
Things didn't go very well for us when we woke up on Tuesday morning, August 15. We had spent two nights at the Indian Lake State Park campground with the hope of leaving early this morning. But it was not to be. A thunderstorm hit hard during the night, causing at least five tents to blow over. This was one storm which I, naturally, slept right through! As I was getting ready to head over to the shower stalls, Harvey informed me, "Mel, I overheard some of the guys talking earlier this morning. They said the power's down so there may not be any working toilets or showers right now." "What?" I exclaimed. "You've got to be kidding me!" No doubt this was going to be a long morning. I was bristling at the bit, eager to get going already! Harvey was in no hurry. It drove me nuts when he took his sweet time puttering and trying to figure out the best way to organize our camping gear before cranking down our pop-up camper. But for him to take THREE hours to do this? Granted, he was new at this but I didn't have that kind of patience! I wanted to do my share of the work and help him pack up but he insisted on doing things his own way. I felt hurt because he didn't want or need my help. I felt impotent. Needing to do something--anything at all--I asked Dano, "Hey, do you mind taking me over to that bench?" Dano graciously guided me over to the bench. As I gazed out over Indian Lake, I soon became totally mesmerized by its beauty. The peaceful serenity of the lake soothed my ruffled feathers. The aromatic fragrance of dark green pine trees surrounding me made me feel safe. The warmth of the morning sun worked its magic on my stiff heart. Nature had done her calming work in me. Perhaps I needed this lesson, to learn more patience with others, and to take time to smell the roses. I thoroughly enjoyed the quiet time that I had with my son. Just below me were steps to a small dock and a beach. Dano clambered down those steps and joyfully splashed in the water. Soon he scooped up sand from the bottom of the lake and came running up the steps to show me the sand. "Mom, look at my hands!" Dano cried. "I've got tan-colored sand in this hand and black sand in my other hand. There's patches of tan and black sand on the bottom of the lake. For some reason, they don't mix together in the lake!" I thought how unusual that had to be! How could sand not mix together? I reasoned it out in my mind and explained to him, "Perhaps sand grains of one color could be coarser than sand grains of another color which might be finer. If that's true, then the finer grains probably sift through the coarser grains to become a separate patch of sand!" Dano and I decided to take a walk through the campground. We began to note which campsites were the prettiest ones. We thought it might be nice to come back and camp here again someday. So we recorded the site numbers for future reference. As Dano ran past each site, he shouted out lot numbers 99, 100, 101, 102; then he jumped across the road to lot 103 where we were camped; then he continued further down, shouting loud enough for me to hear, lots 104, 106, 108, 110, and 112. I personally noted that lot 104 was the nicest one of all. Although it seemed such a frivolous exercise, it helped pass the time until we were notified that the power was back on and the toilets and showers were running again. Our idyllic time was over. I hurried over to the women's side of the bathrooms while Harvey and Dano hurried over to the men's side. Finally, sweet relief! And a refreshing shower! By noon, we were finally on our way. Note: Indian Lake is the fourth largest inland lake in the Upper Peninsula with an area of 8,400 acres. It is 5 miles long and 3 miles wide. The lake was once called M'O'Nistique Lake. According to surveyor records dated 1850, indians lived in log cabins near the outlet of the Lake. These indians, presumably, are what gave Indian Lake its name. Indian Lake has a maximum depth of 18 feet with about 90 percent of the lake less than 15 feet deep. Game fish include perch, walleye, northern pike, muskellunge, rock bass, smallmouth bass, bluegill, sturgeon, and brown trout. Clean sandy beaches around the entire lake make it a favorite for swimmers and sunbathers.
Chapter 13
As soon as we had left Indian Lake State Park and had driven about 4-5 miles down U.S. Highway 2, two cars kept honking their horns to catch our attention. We pulled over to the side of the road with one driver pulling up beside us and the other one pulling in behind us. "What's going on?" Harvey shouted. The motorist quickly responded, "I think you might have lost something on the road back there!" He jerked his thumb a few times to emphasize his point. Harvey questioned, "Oh, yeah? What was it?" "It looked like some type of a metal bar or a tool that might've fallen from your van or your camper. We couldn't tell where it fell from. But we did see it fall and hit the road. We thought it might be important to you. If you drive back a couple miles so so, you should be able to spot it lying there on the shoulder. You can't miss it!" We thanked the motorists for alerting us and they took off. Puzzled about what might've fallen on the road, we turned our van and camper around and headed back. Driving at a slower pace for about 3-4 miles, Harvey and Dano both caught something gleaming on the shoulder. Harvey made another U-turn and swung wide onto the shoulder. He stopped just in front of it. And there it was, our beautiful golden crank! That golden crank was necessary for cranking our camper up and down. Can you imagine us driving all day and part of the night before arriving at our next campground, all tired and hungry? And all you can think of is popping up that camper and crawling into your nice warm sleeping bag for a good night's rest? Only to find out that you can't crank up that camper cuz the crank was no where to be found? But because of the kindness of strangers who had cared enough to flag us down, we were extremely grateful. Harvey shook his head and murmured, "I must've forgotten to remove the crank from the shaft after I put our camper down! It would have been a disaster if we had lost that crank!" Ever since that day, Harvey never forgot to remove the golden crank from the shaft. He faithfully stored it in a safe place each time he put the camper down. It was a lesson well learned!
Chapter 14
I couldn't wait to reach Little Girl's Point on the southwestern shore of Lake Superior by this evening. But when we ran into unbelievable snags along the way, it became a lost cause. We made a not-so-quick stop at Wal-Mart to purchase more camping supplies, large water containers, and a pair of roller-blades and a helmet for Dano to keep him happily occupied between stops. When we came to a barricaded road construction zone on Highway 2, we had no choice but to take a road detour. We drove north on County Road 45, then west on County Road 28. It would be several hours later before we returned to Highway 2. This detour consisted of a long and slow and circuituous detour on poorly marked county roads. After 2-3 hours of driving in this condition, Harvey began to feel fatigued. Harvey asked, "Is there a campground near here where we can settle in for the night?" "Hold on, let me look at the road map," I replied. "There's the Presque Isle State Park 40 miles from here. Let's go check it out!" Upon arriving at this campground, we were excited to see how beautiful this state park was, with its lovely green pine trees and the glorious colors of the sun setting on Lake Superior. Unfortunately, we had come this far, only to be turned away at the gate. The attendant at the booth explained to us, "Sorry, folks! But the campground is already full and unless you have a reservation for an overnight stay, I can't let you pass through this gate." What a disappointment this was! It didn't always used to be this way. Feeling frustrated, I replied, "I don't understand why we can't come through here. We've come a long ways and we're tired. I thought campsites were given out on a first-come, first-served basis!" The attendant responded, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but those are the rules. Michigan now has a new camp reservation policy that doesn't allow walk-ins anymore. You have to have a reservation." I stated, "That's a real shame! There's a lot of us who love to camp on the spur of the moment! There ought to be room for walk-ins. That's what the true spirit of camping is all about!" Surprisingly, he responded, "I couldn't agree more but those are the rules. Sorry you folks came a long ways. If you're concerned about this issue, contact your legislator. Have a good evening!" I didn't bother telling him that we were moving out of Michigan. I would learn later that there were many campers who had become disgruntled with the new camp reservation system. Reservations were often made from several months up to one year in advance, making it a nightmare for those who couldn't plan that far ahead in advance. Eventually, Michigan set aside campsites for walk-ins which was more in line with the true spirit of camping. I thought how wonderful it was that Harvey and I and our son Dano could fly like free-spirited doves without ever needing reservations to stay somewhere. It was nice not having to be anywhere at any given time because, let's face it, we'd never make it there on time! We loved going off the beaten path in our search for the unique, the unusual and the exotic. Spontaniety and creativity blossomed, thanks to no schedules, no routines, and no clocks! Traveling meant living in the present, one day at a time. Our enjoyment was magnified and our hearts were opened to grand possibilities. A trip by faith unfolded better than any planned trip. What a world of difference it makes, traveling by faith and trusting in God's protection every step of the way. But then, we had our share of disappointments too. Though we were tired and hungry, we braced ourselves for the long drive back to Highway 2. Dreary and rainy weather, unmarked county roads, road construction barriers, consuming darkness, and other pressures overwhelmed me. Not being able to see anything in the dark frightened me. I didn't like traveling at night. I was used to having better vision. Somehow, I had to reach the point where I could learn to overcome my fears. I simply had no choice but to learn to trust in Harvey. Feeling apprehensive, I asked Harvey, "Can you see anything? It's so dark out!" Harvey kept trying to reassure me, "Yes, Mel, I can see the road just fine!" After another 2-3 hours' drive, we made it back to Highway 2 near Wakefield, Michigan. We continued to drive and stopped at the first campground we spotted. The Eddy Park campground was located on Sunday Lake. The night was chilly and all we wanted to do was get the camper up, beat off the pesky gnats, turn the heater on and crawl into our sleeping bags for the night. Thank God for that once-lost, now-found golden crank!
=====
=====
We are always open to submissions. Submit your writing, artwork, or video to editor@clercscar.com. To subscribe, email subscribe@clercscar.com with the message "Subscribe daily" or "Subscribe weekly." To unsubscribe, email subscribe@clercscar.com with the message "Unsubscribe me." Visit our archives or bookstore at http://www.clercscar.com. Copyright 2009 by Clerc Scar. All rights reserved. |