Every time I write what Day it is, I giggle a little because it makes it seem like I’m stranded on a desert island or in some kind of hostage situation.
Day 38 concluded back at The Dock gorging on the world’s best cheese ravioli, and watching the world’s best prospective-thunderstorm-turned-dazzling-sunset. I may or may not have my Days mixed up at this point, but I believe this might have been the night that I got soaked by the golf course sprinklers. Side note: Just before the sprinklers turn on, they make a noise that sounds like a wild animal is coming after your soul.
Day 39 was fucking awesome, and contains my favorite moment of the trip (so far). Jack (of Garden Golf Club) and I meandered over to Fayette State Park just down the peninsula. It was Hecate’s first non-relative passenger, and while I’m certain Jack felt very safe, o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶g̶o̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶s̶t̶r̶a̶c̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶b̶y̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶s̶p̶e̶c̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶c̶h̶e̶e̶s̶e̶ ̶r̶a̶v̶i̶o̶l̶i̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶n̶e̶a̶r̶l̶y̶ ̶d̶r̶o̶v̶e̶ ̶u̶s̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶r̶o̶a̶d̶, I believe the comment, “You walk faster than you drive,” vacated his piehole at some point during our adventure. You know, just in case you thought I might have been exaggerating about how slow I drive.
The weather was absolutely brilliant (albeit slightly warm for my taste – we all know how I feel about underboob sweat, and it’s not favorable), and we wandered the ghost town for a while, which was really cool, but it was the water there that was the real winner, in my book. There was a little path through the woods that led off to a rocky beach. On the other side of the bay were glorious limestone cliffs, topped with conifers, that reminded me of cliff jumping in the Adriatic, except that these were better since there was fresh water at the bottom instead of salt water (I’m team Great Lakes all the way). Also, the cliffs in Croatia were naked, not tree-topped. I digress. I’m never one to let something silly like a lack of bathing suit stand in my way of a good time, and that water was so spectacularly blue and clear (pics will simply never do it justice), so I took off as many clothes as I could without getting arrested (that's a thing you don't have to worry about in Croatia, because you can just go skinny dipping at one of the nude beaches there.....highly recommend it), and had myself a swim. Other than the brief moment when I thought that my braid was a water snake on the attack, it was peaceful, and serene, and utterly brilliant. Jack had the dog, so I didn’t even have to worry about him for 5 whole minutes, and I just got to BE. It was a-fucking-mazing, and while I desperately want to go back and pack a picnic, and park my ass, and make a day of it, I know it would never be the same. The spontaneity was a crucial element to the magic. The only thing missing in this scenario were lake pelicans, but even without them, I am filled to the brim with gratitude for that moment in time.
That dream scenario was followed up by a jaunt to the top of the cliffs (spoiler alert: while the view from the cliffs was stunning, the view OF them from the water couldn’t be beat), and ice cream. Moose tracks in a cake cone, in case you’re wondering. I always think I want a waffle cone, and then I'm always disappointed that I've forgotten that I don't like them, so it's exciting that I'm at the point in my life where I finally remember to just order a cake cone.
I have to hand it to G that day, because I was a total asshole of a dog mom, and forgot his treats in the van, and he STILL kept his shit together around the flocks of other dogs in the park. For the most part. On a fun aside, earlier in the week, someone had asked me what the most annoying comment I get about the dog is. Obviously, he is an attention-getting quadruped, so basically not a day goes by that someone doesn’t tell me how big he is, etc., but the one that will paste the most fake of smiles on my face is, “Boy, you could put a saddle on that thing,” or some variation thereof. We heard that no less than three times on Day 39. So original. My cheeks hurt by the end of it.
That Day concluded with a quick thunderstorm at the golf course, a rainbow, some bubble-blowing, and a crossword puzzle. Magic, I tell you; pure magic.
Day 40 brought us to not only the first time ever sleeping in until my 8am alarm, but also our Garden departure. Now, this was not without event. We were heading up to a friend of my cousin’s property in Bumfuck, MI (it’s awesome to know people who know people) to plunk it down for some time where Gatsby can run amok unleashed, and I stopped in Manistique, MI for provisions on the way. At the market, I managed to execute some willpower and only grab one box of Hot Tamales (which I’m sure I’ll be pissed about in the not-so-distant future), and I stopped at the deli for a prime rib panini. It was my first meal of the day (at 1ish pm, so I was perilously close to hangry), and I was very excited about it. Also, there’s some price gouging that goes on in Manistique ($9 for a pack of seltzer?! Non-alcoholic seltzer water, for clarification. What the fuck? It should definitely come with a happy ending, or at least a foot massage, for that price), so I was excited to experience what a $20 deli sandwich tastes like. I remembered in the parking lot that I wanted to partake in some cannabis experiments this week, so I popped over to the local pot shop to grab a few tins of gummies with which to play reefer games. When I left Gatsby, he was napping on the bed in the back of Hecate. When I came back, approximately 120 seconds later, he was s̶t̶i̶l̶l back on the bed, but with my empty deli container, and a very pleased and satisfied expression on his face. All those nice things I said about him from the day before, I’d like to take back. What a fucking dick.
Eventually we made it into Bumfuck, and plan on swanning about the next week and change here where my little baby water moose can relish some off-leash time. He’s loving nothing more than to fetch sticks from the water, play in the water, drink the water, and shake the water all over me. He also enjoys, in his spare time, treeing squirrels, making kindling, and putting his wet ass on my lap. There’s no limestone cliffs and clear blue water, but I have to say, there are few things in life I enjoy more than watching that big galoot live his very best life. We’ll catch up with you in a while. Cheerio!