Mackinaw Smitty, Pt. III

(contd.)

The following morning, we all slept in 'til 7:30, thereabouts.  Well, except Smitty.  Smitty might've woken up by 10am, but all things considered that's pretty good for him.

I can't function without coffee, so while everyone else was still getting up and trying to rise from their cots and sleeping bags, I walked over to the park store and got Kris and I a couple cups of coffee (which was, truth be told, pretty decent - they had a coffee bar set up so it was kinda like gas station coffee.)

Back at camp, Smitty and Rita's tent still looking pretty dilapidated. 

Breakfast was served out of the trunk of our minivan this week, which worked out pretty well 'cause we were able to close the trunk and avoid nightly assaults by hordes of Trash Pandas.

Seriously.  We tried fixing this multiple times throughout the weekend, but couldn't figure out where we had messed up (aside from initially setting it up in pitch blackness.)

Chocolate donuts for breakfast.  'Cause camping.

Waiting for womenfolk and children to finish getting around for the day (Smitty, at this point in time, was awake, but still in the tent.  It's a gradual process, folks.)

While we waited for Smitty to shower and get around for the day, the rest of us walked the girls over to the shoreline to check out the Bridge.

The Big Mac

No idea why she looks so pissed. . .

"Sliding down the rock."  We have special, special children.

Smitty was still getting around when we got back, so Kris and I took the girls up to the pool in order for the kids get some swim time in (nevermind the fact that it was, like, 70 degrees out, and the water was probably 55 degrees.)

Around noonish, we drove into town to hit up some shops downtown and scope out a few local things.  On the way, we passed by the Hamilton, where Kris and I spent our Ten Year Anniversary last October.

Downtown Mackinaw City shopping complex

(That's a fake dog, folks - no idea what the water's for.)

Kris stands in front of the store where, a year ago, we finally scored a Fort Fright poster after a two-day quest throughout the city.

All these frickin' stores start to look the same after awhile. . .

Never gets old

Around this time, we realized that Alayna had lost our Canon PowerShot camera (that she's inherited, as we never use it anymore, seeing how our camera phones are just as good and I'm usually packing an SLR anyway.)  She had misplaced it in a nearby playground, one of the shops, etc., but for the life of her couldn't find it.  To say I was pissed she lost a $175 camera would be an understatement - we spent the next hour walking around, looking for that damn thing.  Not sightseeing, not shopping - looking for a camera my absent-minded child misplaced.  We were just about to say 'screw it' and go about our day, when we happened to walk into one store that was holding on to it - a good Samaritan had been decent enough to drop it off at their cash register.  Despite getting the long-lost camera back, the whole incident still cast a shadow over the day for the next hour or so.

Houghs and Smitties - but Kris most of all - decided it'd be cool to check out Castle Rock in the U.P.  This meant, of course, crossing over the dreaded Mackinac Bridge (a.k.a. Death Trap 5000.)   I had suggested driving downstate, through Indiana and Illinois, and up through Wisconsin in order to get to the U.P. instead, but the others voted the idea down.

Mackinac Island, from the Bridge of Death.

F*** you, Yupers.

After getting turned around a couple times, we finally arrived at Castle Rock.  While my family and I usually frequented Mackinac Island growing up, Kris' family hit places like this, or the Mystery Spot, up instead.  I had to be talked into it (see: Brian's completely rational and understandable fear of dying while crossing the Mackinac Bridge), but I relented in the end.

The girls, Paul Bunyan, and Babe the Blue Ox.

Taking a break while climbing up Mount Doom.

Abby grows impatient.

(We're slightly out of shape.)

At the summit of Castle Rock.

If you look carefully, you can spot Rita and I in the far back, on solid ground.  Both of us said 'hell nope' to the idea of crossing over a catwalk to a rickety viewing platform (though I had no problem sending my kids to do so.)  I had vertigo where I was, there was no way in hell I was walking out any further.

Scanning the horizon for. . . I don't know, upper middle class people on Raleigh bikes on Mackinac Island?

Typical Abby face.

Kris looked down while she was out there and found a bunch of change.  And a plastic fork.  'Cause after you climb 6,000 stairs along the side of a mountain, you kinda want to eat a meal.

Descending back down to solid ground.

There's an open gate, and clearly a worn path through the woods.  There's no lock in sight.  WHY THE HELL DOES THIS SIGN EXIST???

Taking a breather on the way back down (these shaded benches were a nice touch.)

I hate heights. . .

The girls requested this picture of them posing next to the giant blue ox's ass.  'Cause it'd be HILARIOUS.

The Houghs

The Smitties

Smitty really wanted to check out this classic diner in St. Ignace, apparently a local treasure that had the best food in the area.  He wasn't kidding, either - the place was packed when we got there, and it took forever to get our order, but the food was incredible.

Chowin' down, about a half-hour after ordering our food.

The kids' meals came in these folded, cardboard-stock, classic cars that the girls insisted we keep for them (and we did, 'cause we're suckers.)

On the way back to the Bridge, we stopped off at this park along the shoreline that had an awesome view of the straits.

They also had a couple of those viewfinder things (pay-per-telescopes, whatever they're called), so the kids occupied themselves with those for awhile.

Carrion

Kris goes into full-blown Selfie Mom mode. . .

Hand slap face-off (we're equally terrible at this game.)

Shortly after taking these pictures we found a tick on one of the girls' shorts, so we quickly fled the park and checked ourselves over before getting back into the van.  Fortunately, none of us contracted Lyme disease.

As if crossing the Mackinac Bridge wasn't terrifying enough. . . thanks, Michigan.

Coming back to the awesomer half of Michigan. . .

Before returning to Mill Creek, we stopped off at that Gary Memorial Park (whatever it's name is) in Mackinaw City, where there's an awesome view of the Bridge (which I don't mind from the safety of solid ground.)

The girls were good enough to pose for a scenic portrait for us.

This is what we usually get, as you all well know by now.

I attempted at getting another picture, but. . . well, you can see that didn't turn out so well.

Arguably one of the greatest Hough Family pictures ever taken.  This one's getting framed ASAP.

Smitties

Heading back to Mill Creek, we passed by the 'Scenic Motel.'  With a name like that, it MUST be a reputable place. . .

Back at camp

Hanging out at the park playground, teeter-tottering with Mom. . .

While Smitty and I got the campfire up and running, Kris and the girls were able to flag down this firetruck so the kids could get a lift.  Every evening this firetruck departs from the store and cruises around the campground, with a big gaggle of kids in the back.  We had attempted getting a ride from them earlier in the weekend, but to no avail.

Happy campers (literally.)

Color changing fire.  Always a big hit with the girls.

Later on in the evening, before the girls turned in for the night, we took one final walk down to the shoreline to check out the Bridge at night.  I forgot my SLR (not that it would have done much good without a tripod anyway), and my phone couldn't capture it  - my apologies.

The next morning, it was time to start tearing down the campsite (we had to be out by 11am, and it was a fairly long process.)

We adults realized that it'd make things a hell of a lot easier - and less stressful - if we swapped significant others for this process next time around.  Both couples barked at their partners while taking down tents and cleaning up the site, and it's safe to say we probably wouldn't bark at someone else's significant other.

 

Our camping vacation over and done with, we adults began to strategize for next year's August Camping Adventure.  We're all big fans of the third weekend in August as an annual camping weekend:  it's one, last adventure to look forward to at the end of the summer, and a nice distraction from the Back to School grind that comprises, well, pretty much the entirety of August.  Plus, being the third weekend and all gives us a solid two weeks before the actual beginning of the coming school year, when Yours Truly is hilt-deep in lesson planning, room organizing, and handout-copying.  Next year we're going to try and see if the other clans of the Five Families (the Loftis Clan, the Smith Clan, and the Seloske Clan) can make it out, but even if they can't, our two clans definitely will be.

After saying our goodbyes with the Smitties, we headed back downstate, towards Clare, where Dad and Cindy had been nice enough to watch our dog for the weekend.  Over the course of the weekend, they both texted me pictures to show me how the dog was doing. . .

He basically did this all weekend.

Watson and his BFF, Bailey, out for a sunny, afternoon constitutional.

The parents texted me this picture the final day of our camping trip:  Watson had apparently had enough of his weekend stay in Clare by Day 4, and somehow figured out how to strap on his weekend bag and wait patiently by the door for us to return.  Needless to say, he was pretty happy to see us when we returned to Clare. . .

- Fin -