Blueberry Fields Forever

Although difficult to see, there is a deer decoy thing
locked in that cage.  No one knows what crime it
 committed to deserve such a fate.  

Our final cycling adventure of the summer, and the topic of my last blog post for awhile, takes place in Western Michigan, which to me means lots of fresh fruit.  Currently my two favorites are in season, blueberries and peaches.  With two more weeks to go before we must go back to functioning in boxes, what better way to spend a few days than out in nature, camping and cycling?  Nature has a mind of its own, so "out in nature" sometimes means you end up bailing water out of your tent, which is what we did after shivering through the first night of our trip.  Before we left to set up camp in South Haven, I kept checking the weather forecast, and it looked like day and night one were going to be pretty wet, but David kept looking at his smartphone and telling me that it was going to be great.  And it was.  In South Haven, Minnesota, the weather is supposed to be beautiful this week. I hope they have enjoyed their camping and cycling.

Imagine blue skies behind David.  Isn't
that much better?  

We were able to dry out and get on the bikes after a cold, wet night at the campground.  The first day's ride quickly turned all "Gorillas in the Mist" on us though.  We've never ridden through fog before. "Just be prepared to bail in case a car doesn't see you," David told me.  We cruised through fruit country in record time, though.  The first 20 miles were nice and flat, my favorite terrain, which instilled me with a false sense of security. The last 21 miles were hilly. I expressed my outrage to my cycling partner, who simply giggled at me.

24 miles into the trip, we purchased some giant, juicy blackberries to add to our next morning's breakfast. One great advantage of riding through fruit country is an abundance of fresh fruit and veggie stands, which we've taken full advantage of. On the way back to camp, I saw several signs that said, "Michigan Critical Dunes Area."  We rode faster to avoid the dunes' scathing appraisal of us.  Just shy of 42 miles, we completed our first day.  We bought a second blanket at Walmart hoping to be warmer in our tent for the night.

Mmmm... blueberries...

Being fairly new to camping, I have to say a few things about our stay in Van Buren State Park.  Having gotten used to parks between here and Rhode Island last summer, I was expecting a quiet setting in which to enjoy nature.  Instead, what we have is one of those busy parks where you get to know a lot about your neighbors.  The second night of camping was dry, and so the neighbors were out in abundance and kind of late.  There were the girls diagonal from us, whose tent leaned precariously to one side, who addressed one another as "bitches," as in "Okay, bitches?  I'm totally going to order a pizza now?"  Then there is the family next to them who noisily set up camp yesterday as well.  They had one of those dads who yell everything they say.  I can only imagine the joy they shared camping. Actually, I didn't have to imagine, as he was sharing the joy loud enough.

This is clearly for "Team Jacob" patrons

The people across the street say everything loud enough for the neighborhood to hear, even though they sit closely to each other under their tent.  This morning when it started raining, I discovered that in addition to the family's passion for bocce ball, one of the family members plays the harmonica.  He had few songs in his repertoire, but his favorite seemed to be Rock of Ages, and not the cool 80's version.  He played this over and over and over...  Basically, here's my advice: if you are like me and prefer the sounds of nature over the coughing and hacking of the neighborhood smokers, don't stay at this park.

Michigan's best kept secret

Another side note: the local Walmart seems to have more people using the motorized scooter carts than any Walmart I've ever been to.  Stay off motorized scooter carts at Walmart, my friends.  Ride a bicycle.  It might even increase your life expectancy.  Unless you get attacked by a dog, of course.  Dogs hate bikes.