Our weekend started out on a very promising note: Mitch interviewed with National City in the morning and since I was able to get the afternoon off, we were north-bound by 3 pm with bikes in tow. Our car was packed with camping gear and even an accident-induced traffic jam on 127 North couldn't dampen our spirits.
After a couple hours, we arrived in Grayling and fought our way through town (I guess there was some big canoeing event) to Hanson Hills Ski Area: the first stop on our weekend-long tour of trails in the Grayling-Gaylord areas. The plan was to ride HH, stop for a swim at the Otsego Lake State Park, and then head up to the Pigeon River State Forest Campground just north of Gaylord. From there, we planned to ride Shingle Mill Pathway in the Pigeon River State Forest and Aspen Park in Gaylord, and then hit Hartwick Pines State Park in Grayling on our way back on Sunday. Plans plan plans...
Anyway, the ride at HH was great! Since we hadn't had dinner yet, Mitch made me eat one of those nasty Clif bars, and as we climbed hill after hill in the first few miles, it sat at the bottom of my stomach like a brick. My legs ached, my lungs burned, and I barely had the energy to appreciate my beautiful surroundings. Eventually, though, my legs and lungs remembered how to work and I began to enjoy the thrill of the fast downhills. As for the uphills, well, I got a song stuck in my head that helped motivate me as I continued to grind them out:
I use what I got, take what I get,
Give 'til I ain't got nothin' left
Then I give it some more,
Keep on climbin' up that mountain.
Keep truckin' along, work up a sweat,
Past every no after no after no 'til I get a yes,
I don't worry 'bout what I'm not,
I use what I got.
Apart from the awful grammar, country artist Jason Aldean pretty much summed up the determination I need to ride these tough trails!
Eight or so miles later, we were back at the trailhead, packing up the car and trying to dry our sweaty, stinky gloves. We took a nice dip at the Otsego Lake State Park in lieu of a bath, but by the time we got gas and drove back to the park so I could retrieve my forgotten sunglasses, it was raining. As we were not too keen on setting up camp in the rain, we stopped at La Senorita in Gaylord for a disappointing dinner, then continued our drive up to Pigeon River. Our worries about not finding a campsite there were unfounded (no reservations at state forest campgrounds); the place was deserted. We lit the lantern, paid our fee, set up camp...and now I digress for a confession:
I've seen too many horror movies, watched too many episodes of
Unsolved Mysteries, and am generally a 'fraidy cat when it comes to dark, unfamiliar places in the middle of nowhere. I kept telling myself to knock it off as I constantly scanned the woods with my headlamp, but by the time we crawled into our tent, I couldn't help mentioning to Mitch that it was a little creepy being the only people here. Had he reassured me, I would've spent a restless night in our tent with my fears to myself, but he agreed that yes, it was a bit uncomfortable...
...so we promptly packed up and left. Just like that. We thought we could just get a cheap hotel for the night and try our luck at some of the other campgrounds the next day. Little did we know that every hotel in Gaylord was booked for some Little League tournament, and Grayling was packed for the canoe event! So, by midnight on Friday, we were on the road back to Mt. Pleasant. I was disappointed that our weekend hadn't worked out, and for better or for worse, I'm now convinced that reservations must be made, and that one should be a bit familiar with a specific state forest campground before assuming that a walk-in in the middle of the night is a good idea.
Maybe God puts you where you need to be, though, rather than where you want to be. When we stopped in Houghton Lake to get drinks for the drive home, we saw a clearly intoxicated man get into an SUV and prepare to drive away. We called 911 and gave them a description of the car and its license plate number. Maybe we got a drunk driver off the road, and if so, it was worth not having the weekend we planned.
And all was not lost, biking-wise. We explored the Midland City Forest on Saturday and rode Burchfield in Lansing on Sunday. We also got through large chunks of our respective Harry Potter books and spent some time with Bruce and his girlfriend, Lizzie. We do hope to resurrect this trip again in the fall, though we'll be making other arrangements for camping next time.