Today began crisply - I didn't know how crisply until I put the slides in and chunks of ice fell off the slide toppers - but, happily, with a bright blue sky. I decided to be a hospitable neighbor to the Boston Terrier people and wait to dump my holding tanks until they finished grilling their bacon and eggs outside their motorhome. The husband thanked me by staring intently as I hitched up, almost as if he were waiting for me to do something stupid. Thankfully, I didn't - that would come later.
The drive from South Haven to our next stop, Silver Lake near Mears, Michigan, was pleasant and surprisingly quick. I am fascinated by the cruisers of the Michigan State Police. Regardless of whether they're Crown Vics or Chargers, the "blue gooses" still wear a single red rotating beacon light on their roofs and a "STOP" shark fin on their hoods, which dates to the days of the side stop, wherein officers would pull alongside a motorist and activate the shark fin to signify the motorist to pull over. I don't want to experience this phenomenon first-hand, but I admire the nod to tradition.
We're at Silver Creek RV Resort, one of the cleanest, nicest, friendliest campgrounds I've yet experienced. And I'm proud to report I was able to back into my site with an audience of three couples across the way, all of whom had more wisely, perhaps, chosen pull-through sites.
After setting up and eating lunch, we hopped in Dad's truck - it's rather nice having a truck perceived as too big in which to sightsee, so my truck usually stays back at the campground - and drove around Silver Lake and up to Pentwater.
After walking along the navigation channel and experiencing standing out on a navigation pier in 45-degree weather, we decided to stop at a local coffee shop, where Dad got brave and rather metropolitan by trying a mocha for the first time in his life. His impeccably brilliant and concise take on it was that it tasted a little like chocolate and a little like coffee. He ordered a scone, and I couldn't resist a snickerdoodle. After ribbing the high school- and college-age staff about how much better Ohio State is than Michigan, we were handed the scone and the cookie in a white paper bag. This becomes important later.
We then headed back toward Silver Lake, stopped at a restaurant we had seen earlier to check out the hours and to drop our empty cups and the bag in the trash, and then went on to the Little Sable Point lighthouse. I'm a sucker for lighthouses anyway, but I have a particular affinity for unpainted brick lighthouses. I am immensely impressed by the skill of masons more than a century ago who were able to lay thousands of perfect courses of brick punctuated by limestone lintels and sills for windows as well as wrought iron walkways. Little Sable Point, still an active light, is on par with the Currituck light on the Outer Banks in my mind.
We then headed back to the campground, where I undertook my mid-trip de-hairing of the back seat of the truck. If you want a smart and tough Lab, get a black one. If you want a slick-coated one that doesn't shed quite as much but could potentially have rocks between its ears, get a chocolate. If you want a sweet-natured one that sheds like crazy, get a yellow. In the midst of vacuuming, Dad came over looking for his cell phone. In a repeat of yesterday, we looked in the truck - this time his. We looked in the trailer - this time his. Just like yesterday, we retraced our steps. And there it was - in a trash can at the Sands Restaurant inside a certain white paper bag. In an utterly brilliant move that topped yesterday, I had thrown my father's cell phone in the trash. At this rate, I will manage to lose the entire truck and trailer before this trip is over.
Good thing this is Mother's Day and not Father's Day.
