Sunday was a lazy day.
Laundry by hand.
A quick food run.
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.
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.