Wednesday morning, Remy and I drove up to Glen Arbor to see Elsie and Isabel. For those of you readers who don't know who those people are, Elsie is Chuck's (my former husband) mom, and Isabel is my niece. One reason I hurried up there is that Bill Peterson had an aging truck-back camper that could possibly be mine, and I needed to measure it to see what kind of truck would be needed to carry it. So, my first stop was the Reservation, the property at Gilbert Road where I have happily camped for many summers. I had hoped to camp this time, but the well has stopped working, and I decided not to stay there without easy access to water.
There's nothing like the air and sound at the Reservation. I didn't camp there, but I brought it home with me in my heart and in my nose.
I got the measurements of the old truck and the camper, drove further into the place to see if I could see Fiona's (my old dog) grave from the car and noticed a tent. No car. I wondered who was camping there.
I called the used car man. He told me that the need for an 8 foot truck bed meant, in today's market, that I might end up with something 20 feet long. I suggested that perhaps I could deal with a truck with it's own covered back, but it's really not the most appealing idea. I'm looking again at the idea of tent camping out of the back of a van or SUV, with the option of sleeping in the vehicle relatively comfortably (not like sleeping in my car on the way to Ithaca) if necessary.
Thanks to Frances for asking me to write another blog post. You may have noticed my tendency not to report so much now that I'm back in Grand Rapids for a time, and yet the adventure continues. It's nice to know someone continues to read about my exploits.
I was lucky enough to have a little one-on-one time with Isabel on Wednesday afternoon before she had to go to work. We went hunting, and I mean hunting, for an open restaurant. Well, the Good Harbor Grill turned us away because of Remy, even though he was wearing his service vest. Then we tried Foothills Cafe, which had closed for the day about 10 minutes before. The other place at the narrows (don't remember the name) had closed for the season, and then the coffee-sandwich shop/pizza place on M-22 in Empire had the sandwich side closed for renovations. Fortunately, we managed to get most of the menu of the sandwich shop at the pizza place, and a delicious lunch was had by both.
There's nothing like the air and sound at the Reservation. I didn't camp there, but I brought it home with me in my heart and in my nose.
I got the measurements of the old truck and the camper, drove further into the place to see if I could see Fiona's (my old dog) grave from the car and noticed a tent. No car. I wondered who was camping there.
I called the used car man. He told me that the need for an 8 foot truck bed meant, in today's market, that I might end up with something 20 feet long. I suggested that perhaps I could deal with a truck with it's own covered back, but it's really not the most appealing idea. I'm looking again at the idea of tent camping out of the back of a van or SUV, with the option of sleeping in the vehicle relatively comfortably (not like sleeping in my car on the way to Ithaca) if necessary.
Thanks to Frances for asking me to write another blog post. You may have noticed my tendency not to report so much now that I'm back in Grand Rapids for a time, and yet the adventure continues. It's nice to know someone continues to read about my exploits.
I was lucky enough to have a little one-on-one time with Isabel on Wednesday afternoon before she had to go to work. We went hunting, and I mean hunting, for an open restaurant. Well, the Good Harbor Grill turned us away because of Remy, even though he was wearing his service vest. Then we tried Foothills Cafe, which had closed for the day about 10 minutes before. The other place at the narrows (don't remember the name) had closed for the season, and then the coffee-sandwich shop/pizza place on M-22 in Empire had the sandwich side closed for renovations. Fortunately, we managed to get most of the menu of the sandwich shop at the pizza place, and a delicious lunch was had by both.
The beautiful Isabel at the Village Inn in Empire.
While in the metropolis of Glen Arbor, I had the chance to bike out past Sleeping Bear, read more of Travels with Charley, see a movie (Equal Means Equal -- see it!) and have supper with Elsie. The air in Glen Arbor is life restoring.
View from the deck at Elsie's house in Glen Arbor.
The Pole of Lost Soles near Art's in Glen Arbor.
I used M-37 to get both ways this week. I find, after all the places I've been, that I don't really enjoy the expressways so much.
I had a similar experience to the lunch restaurant one when looking for coffee on Saturday morning. Leelanlau Coffee had a line out the door, I guess because it was raining and people weren't out running, biking, or swimming. The place in Empire didn't have the coffee part open. The Grocer's Daughter serves coffee drinks, mocha in particular, but they don't have decaf. So I thought I was going to have to take 131 back after going through Cadillac in order to get a decent cup of coffee. Luckily, there's a sweet little shop -- the kind that sits in the middle of a parking lot -- right at the intersection of 115 and 37, so I was able to get my coffee and take 37 back to GR.
Dear Beth Miller supplied me with raspberries from her garden on my way back. And I finally returned to Annie's, had supper with and helped Tony Blair with music for the Chamber Choir picnic on Tuesday, walked Remy and went to bed in the sweet, sultry, summer air of Michigan.
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