July 6--Iron Mountain to St. Ignace

Well, every trip needs a day such as this. We had only 150 miles to make to our destination so we used the day for some housekeeping chores. We vacuumed the truck cab and washed the truck. There were parts of the camper that were no longer white, a burnt orange to black mass of bug carcasses. K emptied the camper and swept out the hundreds of brave soldiers felled on the 4th in the epic battle of Lake Misbegotten. Laundry and grocery shopping finished up our chores and we headed to "The Straits" campground.

The campground sits on the strait where Lake Michigan joins Lake Huron. A 4.6 mile bridge in the foreground adds to the ambiance. The campground was a study in human dynamic's - quiet serene folks mixed with stupid ones, kid's gone wild mixed and sauteed with drunk angry men, women who's day's of wearing a bikini should be long past, but isn't, adolescent's with hormones run amok, Sixty something's who are still caught in the '60's, 50 foot Winnebago's - their satellite's pointed to the sky so their occupants never miss an episode of Wheel of Fortune, babies with amazingly large lungs whose cries stretch out past sundown and begin as the Sun rises in the East, Seventy campfires blazing at 70 campsites - enough wood consumed to build a condo community - this and more, much more but amidst the chaos and hub bub, we had a pleasant evening - s'mores and Mandolin with song, more than enough to sooth anyone's nerves. (This is by far, the longest run on sentence I have ever written - my apologies to Mrs. Horvath, my 7th grade English teacher.)

Here are some pictures of the strait and Lake Huron.