I’m frying up potatoes, onions, and eggs at a wayside rest area about
twenty miles from the Michigan border. I’ll be in tiptop shape when
I cross over into Michigan tomorrow. The last three days have been beautiful.
If my memory serves me correctly this is only the third time
I have had three days in a row of good weather since Oregon.
It’s a beautiful morning in the upper peninsula of Michigan. I just
met the wayside greeter lady. She’s very friendly, and quite a
character. At 73 she’s still going strong. She lives with her son on a
Yesterday, while I was writing in my journal, the clouds started to
roll in, and by the time I had finished eating breakfast, I had to don
my rain gear. All total, I was in and out of the rain four times, but
I missed the main cloudburst by hanging out in a store. It started
really raining about 30 minutes after I reached the wayside. I almost
got caught in it because when I pulled in this nice family immediately
befriended me, and I was obliged to drink a beer with them. They were
really nice people, but when the rain hit, I was still putting up my tent.
It doesn’t look like rain today, but the voice on the radio (coming
out of one of the parked cars) just said thunderstorms for tomorrow.
Oh well I guess I can handle a few more days of rain. Anyway, it
looks like a super day today. Yesterday, when I was in and out of the
rain, I noticed a bulge in my front tire–Bummer. I had over a hundred
miles to go before the next big town. I patched the tire on the inside
of the bulge. With that added strength, I should make it. That said, I
am disappointed in myself. Strapped to my sleeping bag, I
carried a used spare tire all the way across Canada. When I hit
Minnesota, I threw it away. I figured I was home.