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    Labor Day Weekend II

    September 5, 2016

    Sunday was a lazy day.


    Laundry by hand.


    A quick food run.


    Journal writing.


    That was it.


    Not much more than that...


    I did get in touch with Jenn's mom regarding my Pittsburgh visit.


    I watched the swinging bench -- outside the cabin -- move with the wind.


    I had an uplifting conversation with my former college roommate and close friend (Jim); I asked him how it was going with him and his wife's recently purchased home renovations.


    I thought about my motorcycle and how lost I would be without my reliable, loyal, dependable machine.


    My Honda.


    My baby.


    Speaking of babies, I closed out the evening with a baby-sister pep-talk.


    My youngest sister, Yoli, always has a way of making me laugh.


    (I told you it was a lazy day.) 


    She's going to research the Mackinac Bridge for me and send me some links about it.

    The sky -- streaked with airbrushed clouds -- faded from blue to purple-gray to charcoal-indigo.


    Strong winds howled in the night -- this time not the coyotes.


    At first I thought I was being attacked by killer ATVs; instead, I realized it was the wind.


    It offered such boisterous vocals, I thought it was auditioning for a part in Wuthering Heights: The Horror Movie.




    It was just me -- in a remote cabin with basic phone service -- comforted by the bellowing wind and strange structural noises.


    Perfect sleeping conditions for a character like Heathcliff.

    I woke up just after 8 a.m.


    Pillows blocked the sun from my face.


    After tea and a double salad breakfast, I decided it was time for a motorcycle bath.


    Except for the occasional rain shower, I had not scrubbed down my bike since June.


    Using a bucket of cold water, blue handi-wipes, a brillo pad and paper towels, I washed and dried my bike.


    Bug muck and debris much gone, I felt confident about the next leg of the trip.  


    I wanted my motorcycle to know that it would not be neglected.


    Later, I rode my bike into town for a tank full of gas and stopped at a wifi hot spot for a social media fix.


    When I returned, I made a cup of chai and packed.


    Despite not having lodging in place for my next stop, I am not worried.


    Tomorrow's goal is to drive as far as Cheboygan, Michigan (abut 200 miles).


    I did not wish to make any reservations because I am not sure how far I will -- in truth -- ride.  I have no idea what the weather has in store, nor do I know how my body will react.  


    What I do know is that September is a slow tourism month.  I also know that a few airbnb spots are available along the way.  


    Tuesday will be less about where I wish to go and more about how far my body is willing to travel.  


    In the meantime, I say farewell to my pretend bed in my make believe cabin in the valleys of the Upper Peninsula.  









    Until we meet again, my friend. 




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