Happy Saturday! This week I’m sharing a few pics from Day 2 of our drive around Michigan’s Thumb: Port Huron (featured last week) to Sebewaing. I have a lot fewer pictures than I normally would, because the weather along Lake Huron was way too cold and windy for this desert rat. Before we get going: The post is part of the Weekend Coffee Share, hosted by Natalie the Explorer. Have a seat, grab a treat, and pretend you care about my vacation pictures so you don’t bruise my fragile little fee fees. Pics from our Thumb Drive “Thumb Drive.” Heh, heh. See what I did there? Yeah, I know, don’t quit my day job. Anyway. Port Huron, Michigan Here’s the beach at Lighthouse Park in Port Huron, our first stop on Day 1 of our Thumb Drive: As recovering rockhounds, we couldn’t resist looking for treasures in all those pebbles. And our efforts paid off–we found a few fossils. Fortunately the wind wasn’t too bad here, so we were able to linger and get our beach fix. We also explored around the lighthouse; those pics are in last week’s post. Harbor Beach, Michigan Our next (very quick) stop was in Harbor Beach. Judging by all those spots, I think I took this pic through the windshield. Did I mention I’m a weather wimp? I got out of the car (very briefly) to take this pic of the pier at Harbor Beach: You can see the lighthouse near the upper left. I love walking on piers, but it was just too cold. Birds! This was the first day we started seeing wildlife (unless you consider a bunch of medical librarians in Detroit to be “wildlife”). We took these next two pics from the car somewhere between Harbor Beach and Point aux Barques. Spring is baby season, and we were fortunate to see several families of Canada geese, including this one: Wilderness survival tip: When photographing Canada geese (or any kind of geese) a zoom lens is your friend. Geese are assholes. Point aux Barques, Michigan This was definitely a jump-out-of-car-only-to-snap-picture situation. Brrrr. Bummer, too, because it looked like a lovely place to spend some time. In the summer. Port Crescent State Park We actually got out and hiked to near the shoreline at Port Crescent State Park, but it was a highly unpleasant experience. Not only was it cold and windy, but this was our first encounter with Michigan mosquitoes. I’d rather deal with the geese. This is definitely a place I’d like to revisit in the summer–after dipping myself in a vat of DEET. Sebewaing Because of the lousy weather, we drove way further on Day 1 than we’d planned, all the way to Sebewaing. I’m so glad we made it that far, because we discovered Sebewaing County Park–and the weather was much nicer than it was on the eastern coast of the Thumb. Before we get to the Sebewaing pics–story time! Chasing the Sunset in Sebewaing We rolled into Sebewaing around 7 or so, exhausted from driving all day. Well, I was exhausted. My husband wanted to do more exploring. I rested till about 8:30, then decided I’d humor him and go back out. We wanted to get to the shoreline to take a picture of the sun setting over Lake Huron–not something that would have been possible in most of the previous towns we drove through, because most of the Michigan coast of Huron is east-facing. Anyway. We load up our camera and head for Sebewaing County Park, which appears to have a trail to the lake. Lovely. However, it’s now about 8:30 PM, and sunset is fast approaching. So we get to the park, get out of the car, and start up this grassy trail that leads to the end of a spit out in the lake that appears to be perfectly positioned for seeing the sun set. At this point, we have 2 problems: What could possibly go wrong? We try to hurry. Long-Suffering Husband has a bum knee, so he tells me to go on ahead, and I proceed to do something stupid: run. I’ve been a couch potato for several months, the trail is covered with bugs, and I… am running. That lasted about a minute. I’m now walking as fast as I can while breathing through a tissue to keep the bugs out, and the sun is getting lower and lower in the sky. And the trail… keeps going. And going. Pretty soon it’s not mown grass anymore. It’s wet dirt, tree roots, and rocks. I keep going, gasping and panting through my tissue. I catch a glimpse of the sun through the trees, an orange fireball at the horizon. Must. Photograph. But I’m in a forest with no clear shot and no sign of the end of the trail. I try to run again, and my Skechers slide on the slick trail. I nearly fall. Damn. I press on. The trail gets muddier. The forest gets darker. I’m pretty sure I’m in a horror movie. In the morning, a hapless hiker will find find my mutilated, mosquito-devoured body. I press on some more. My foot sinks ankle-deep in muck. I pull it out and almost lose my right Skecher. I think I can see the end of the trail through the trees. The orange fireball calls to me, swelling, urging, no, demanding that I witness its descent into the sea. Desperate now, I search for a passable path. I sink in the muck again. I slip again, then I sag against a nearby maple, gasping and swearing as the bitter taste of defeat rises like bile in the back of my throat. By now the sun has set, I’m in a dark, bug-infested forest with no flashlight or cold-weather gear, and I haven’t seen another human in 15 whole minutes. I text Long-Suffering Husband: “Trail not passable. Turning back. If I don’t make it, tell our son I love him.” I turn away from the last rays of the setting sun and stumble back up the trail. I search the shadows for predators and dodge the bugs. Will I ever see Long-Suffering Husband again? I round a curve in the trail, and he’s there. Whole and alive. As dramatic music swells to a crescendo, I run in slow motion and leap into his arms. We aren’t out of the woods yet (literally), but whatever we encounter on our perilous journey back, we’ll face it together. OK, OK, most of that story was true, minus the gratuitous melodrama. We really did try like crazy to reach the end of the spit to photograph the sunset, the trail really did become nearly impassable, and the muck really did try to eat one of my Skechers. And while we didn’t get any pics of the sunset, we did get some really lovely pics of other things in Sebewaing County Park. The Memery In case the sunset chasing story didn’t provide enough ridiculousness, here’s some more. First up: fun with signs. I need this billboard to be real: Damn. Someone stole my epitaph. I should have had that one on my office wall when I lived in Southern California. Video or it didn’t happen. And I’d pay good money to watch that video. That’s it for the signs. We’ll end today’s hot mess with a couple of random laughs: I went running yesterday morning for the first time in months (other than the sunset-chasing adventure exaggerated above). Even my eyeball hurts. Literally. And yes, I mean the literal meaning of literally–my eyeball actually hurts, along with my back, knees, and feet. From jog-walking a single mile. I was running with my legs, not my face, so I have no idea WTF is wrong with my eyeball, but here we are. Middle age is wild. And finally, I’m still giggling about this one: If you take me to a party where I don’t know very many people, I’ll follow you around like one of those goslings in the picture earlier in this post. That’s it for this week! Next week we’ll visit wetlands, see more lighthouses, and meet Bigfoot.