Memorial Day Weekend

When I lived in Virginia, I found that there was a lot to see and do. I made trips to museums and monuments in D.C., visited a friend in Richmond, hiked Old Rag, saw the Shenandoah Valley in the fall and the cherry blossoms in the spring. I went to Monticello, and to Hershey, PA. But when I left, I thought of all the things I hadn’t done, like the trip to New York City, or to the beaches in North Carolina, the Museum of Natural History, the Holocaust Museum. I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, because there is so much to see and do in that part of the country that I couldn’t possibly have done everything I wanted to in the 10 months that I was there. But at the same time, it wasn’t only an issue of time. In many cases I had simply let the opportunity pass by me because I assumed I had all the time in the world, and then it turned out that I didn’t.

About the time I passed the halfway point in my degree here in Michigan, it struck me that I was in danger of letting the same thing happen. I’ve been to most of the local or semi-local sights, like the Henry Ford museum and the Toledo Zoo and Frankenmuth. I’ve made two trips to Mackinac Island, one each summer I’ve been out here, and have even driven through Canada to visit New York state. But I have already passed up other opportunities, like camping at Sleeping Bear Dunes, or a road trip to Chicago, or a day at Cedar Point amusement park. And this year I have realized that I am not going to be in Michigan forever, and I have vowed not to let opportunities pass me by.

So for Memorial Day weekend I went on a camping trip with several friends, up to the northern end of the peninsula. When the plans first sprang into being several weeks ago, I had forgotten that I would be out of town the week before, visiting my little sister, and I didn’t get back until late Saturday evening. Not to be deterred, however, I went to sleep for about 5 hours, and then got up bright and early to pack my things and drive up to the campground where everyone else had already been since the previous afternoon. Saturday evening when I was crawling into bed after a long day of planes and airports, and setting my alarm for 4 in the morning (yikes!) I was having some major doubts, but I’m glad I went. The Sunday morning drive was quite pleasant (no one is on the roads at 5 am on a Sunday morning!), and the rest of the weekend was a lot of fun.

Here are a few pictures to document the adventure:

This is just to prove to Eric that there are hills in Michigan. I took the picture in juxtaposition with the buildings so you can see the massive slopes :).



I got up to the campground just on time to attend the little local branch in Charlevoix (I think our camping neighbors must have wondered a little about this group of young adults putting on ties and skirts and piling into a minivan on Sunday morning). The van had a GPS system, and about halfway to the church it instructed us to drive forward, straight into the water. We were just a little worried, until we saw the ferry. It cost $3.50 and made us later for church than we already were (and we took a different route on the way back), but it was worth it for the experience.





The branch was very welcoming to us. Someone had made red and white corsages for everyone for Memorial Day, and they made sure we all got one after sacrament meeting. I was snagged to play the piano in Sunday school, and then again in Relief Society—they seemed really happy to have someone who could play! And happy just to have an increase in numbers—everyone asked us if we were coming back next week, and we were sorry to tell them no.

In the afternoon we came back to the campground and just chilled. Our campsite was at Young State Park, at the edge of a lake, and we took the camping chairs out to the beach to read and talk and enjoy the sunshine. The water was too cold for swimming, at least for anyone over the age of 12 (there were plenty of kids splashing around in the water), but we at least dipped our toes in.





In the evening we made foil dinners in the campfire. About the time we got around to making s’mores, though, the heavens opened. One drop became two, then five, and then a downpour that lasted most of the night, along with plenty of thunder and lightening. We stuffed the last of the marshmallows in our mouth, gathered everything together as quickly as possible, then congregated in the large tent to spend what little was left of the evening playing cards and drying out.





The next morning everything was wet, so instead of bothering with setting up the camp stove for pancakes and turkey bacon, we took down the tents and drove to Traverse City for breakfast at Bob Evans. 

This is the giant, man-eating slug that took up residence on the camp chair overnight. But it did not eat anyone.



Our last activity for the weekend was a brief trip to Sleeping Bear Dunes on the shore of Lake Michigan. One thing you might not realize is just how blue the water is in Lake Michigan. You’d almost think we were in Hawaii (maybe it's just the pollutants from Chicago). Of course, if you were to dip your toe in the water you would realize pretty quickly that you were not in Hawaii.



One of the attractions at Sleeping Bear Dunes is the dune climb, which is so sandy that you slide back two steps for every three you take (you must be able to make a math problem out of that somehow). We didn’t have much time to spend there so we didn’t brave the climb. We just watched everybody else struggle up it from a lookout point. Maybe next time.



Here’s a view of the lake, facing away from the dunes. The winter may last forever here, but once it passes, Michigan is a beautiful state.



That’s about the end of the trip. The drive home was mostly uneventful, except for the part where my engine light came on. Fortunately my car made it back to Ann Arbor without incident, and the engine light problem has been taken care of (free of charge because my car is still under warranty). It was a really fun weekend, and hopefully one of many other Michigan adventures that I'll take advantage of before I leave this side of the country.