How Time Flies

After visiting the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum, we headed further west to Pictured Rocks area, ending up at Hurricane River camping ground, which provided me, dear reader, with the most entertaining evening on the entire trip.

We found a nice spot to set up camp and the sun was beginning to set. As our camping guide suggested, there was a short trail that would lead to the mouth of Hurricane River where it meets Lake Superior. I said, "let's go down to the lake and see the sun set on the water." We set out on a fairly quick walk through the woods and came across the river as it emptied out into the lake. There was a small bridge that provided a nice photo op, and my company set about taking my picture. While he was getting ready, I complained that I was getting bitten by flies. We finished up and set out to the beach, just about 20 feet from where we were. We saw an older couple by us, sitting at a picnic table, trying to watch the serene sunset. The man was using a branch as a switch to ward off the flies that I was ever more noticing. We walk out onto the beach and I want to take my sneakers and socks off to get my feet wet and take some photos. I had finished the process and took just a few steps when I begin to hear him panicking. He starts telling me that we have to go, that the flies are biting him and they are all over. He starts pacing like a crazy person muttering that we have to leave. I am too busy laughing at him that I can't even put my socks back on. He insists that it's not funny and why am I laughing and so on. I can't help but to laugh at the sight, he's acting like he has terrets or something with the occasional obsenity slipping through, "f***, s***! Let's go. Let's GO!" I tell him that he could go on without me, but he, like a good solider, refused to leave me behind. I finally got my shoes back on and we started setting back off, before I even got a chance to take a picture.  He was still flipping out and the older couple we saw earlier are now clearly amused at his crazy outburst. In his defense, there were HUNDREDS of flies on both of us and we were both getting bitten. On the way back to the campsite, we took turns smacking each other to ward off possible other attacks by flies. It was unpleasant, but as I was not as bothered, I wanted to go back and watch the sunset. After a long heated discussion, even questioning my ability to help a friend in need (to which I responded, trust me, you'll laugh about this later--who's right now?) a compromise was struck: he would drive me down to the picnic area, I would get out and take my photos, and if they flies attacked, I would walk back, otherwise I could get a ride.  He stayed in the car watching the sunset, I went back to the beach, but there were just too many flies around to enjoy myself. Without his outbursts to keep my mind off of how I was getting bitten, it just wasn't as much fun. I did see over a half a dozen people further up the beach watching, strolling, etc. I couldn't figure out how the flies were not eating them alive. I did take a few shots and then ran back to the car, but knew that there were just too many flies (my jeans were covered in them) for me to get in.  He insisted that I run around for a bit and get rid of them, which I did, so only about three made it in the car. The rest of that evening was relatively uneventful camping. However, he made a comment about putting the cooler in a car as he had noted the bulletin board at the head of the camping ground loop that all food should be stored in a hard shell vehicle as to AVOID THE BEARS. Bears? Bears? What? At this point, it's getting dark, and with the bear talk, I'm ready to put all food in the car and just close my eyes tightly in hopes that I will not be bear food. While I thoroughly enjoyed camping outdoors, the thoughts of bears cramped my camping style and from that point on, I was always ready to get tucked in as soon as it was dark.

The next day I awoke in one piece, and it was another unseasonably hot day for the UP, but we took in the north end of the National Lakeshore, which included some gorgeous and huge sand dunes as well as a waterfall that we were able to cool off in. This was at one point a large lumbering area, and we saw the remains of what was referred to as a "log shute" or something to that effect, where they would have boats down on the lake, and the lumberers would send lumber down the dunes (over 150 feet high) which would slide down the dunes at etremely high speeds. Visitors can run down the dune in a matter of seconds but signs warn that it could take up to an hour to get back up. The dune was made to be extremely steep, so you can only imagine how difficult it would be to climb such a height in loose sand. But people were doing it! Not us though, we had other things to take in on the other end of the park. This end was near Grand Marias (spelling?) and included the Au Sable Waterfall and the Grand Sable Dunes. It is the lesser visited portion of the park, although in so many ways it embraces so many wonderful views.