The Camaraderie of a Fellow Kind

Blowing down I75 toward the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we keep a watchful eye out for VW campers. Our count so far is six, with two of them being the older Transporter models. There is always a wave from behind the wheel when they spot us.

I finally feel like the trip has begun. In Gaylord Michigan we passed a sign indicating the half way point between the equator and the North Pole. I quickly pulled out my pocket atlas to see where on our journey we would cross the equivalent point to the South Pole. Miles and oceans though still lay ahead of us, so my attention was drawn back to the Michigan map to search out red teepee signs indicating camp sites.

Our agreement on this trip was to stop driving no later than 5:30pm. That would allow us ample time to find a home for the night before we were cloaked in darkness. That strategy has already paid off. The first two campgrounds we drove into were full and a third had only one vacant site. We pulled in. In less than two minutes, the top was popped and we were set.

The Straits of Mackinac

The joining point of Lake Michigan and Lake Huron is directly underneath the Mackinac bridge. Similar in design to the Golden Gate, it is one of the longest suspension bridges in the world. When it was built in 1957, it eliminated the 23 mile long line of car waiting to ferry across. As we drove over, I tried to find some difference between the two huge bodies of water I was crossing. Perhaps Lake Huron was slightly bluer. At the northern edge of the bridge, the scenic lake views and the miles of dunes that are characteristic of the Upper Peninsula awaited us.

These were the lakes that I grew up with. Even today I marvel at how these great lakes , in all their vastness are but a drop in the bucket to the size of the ocean.