For breakfast I went to Bob Evan's, which appears to be the regional equivalent of Denny's, and it was delicious. After I ate I was outside and started talking to a local couple about the trip, the weather, etc. and I really wish I had some kind of a handheld ticket clicker because I really wanted to be able to count the number of times the man said "Oh yeah. Heck yeah." And it was never just, "Oh yeah," or "Heck yeah," always both. Toward the end of the conversation I was starting to have a hard time holding back the laughter, and not because I didn't think he should say it any more, or in a condescending way, but it was just damn funny.
From Saginaw I went north and took a right on US 23 to travel around the 'index finger' of Michigan. I was really glad to be off the Interstate, but unfortunately it was still flat and straight. The good news was that there were things to look at again. I was leaving the farmland behind and in the forest again, and after a short time I had Lake Huron to my right.
All I can say about that is, "That's a huge frickin' lake!" It feels a little like looking out at the ocean, only I know that if times were really tough I could drink from the lake to stay alive.
Before I left Saginaw I had looked at the weather and it was looking like I was going to be in the rain all day long, but I must have done something right somewhere, because I managed to stay behind the storm all day long. That also meant that I stayed cool all day. Thank Dude!
US 23 reminded me a lot of US 101 down the Oregon Coast. It is obviously a destination spot, with lots of little rental cabins and hotels by the water. I found it fascinating that at least 90% of the shoreline is privately owned, and I know this because everyone has a sign my the road to mark their spot. Good thing, too, because without the signs no one would be able to find their cabin, it would just be miles and miles of mailboxes that look pretty much the same. The signs were interesting too. They ranged from names painted on plywood to intricate hand-carved pieces announcing things like, 'Howard's Hideaway".
I stopped for a little break at a small gas station and met Ted. Ted introduced himself by pulling up next to me in his garbage truck and asking, "Wanna trade?"
"Not today," I told him, "Im not sure I'd have as much fun getting back to Seattle."
"Don't be so sure, she handles like a dream." I eyed the truck a bit. "And she only uses a gallon every hundred miles…of oil."
I wasn't sold on the trade, but we talked for a bit. I was relieved to have had a conversation with someone on the side of the road. It told me that I was back on the highways where everyone isn't in such a damn hurry. Thanks, Ted.
At my last stop on US 23 I got to actually pump water out of the ground and into my water bottle using this:
The meeting for the day was in Mackinaw City (technically a village by definition). It was a fantastic little meeting about how and how much to help others. I was reminded that if someone wants to go then we can't say anything right, but if someone wants to stay we can't say anything wrong. Thanks, Mackinaw City Group!
The day was an absolute relief all around, and I am glad to be back on the blue highways!
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