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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.

     

    Nope.

     

    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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