Victories and Losses

What's up, gang.

Good times, Michigan.  Good times.

Closing out what has been, now, the fourth month of society's pandemically-charged quasi-quarantine, we Houghs found ourselves settling into a lack-luster Summer schedule.  The first half of the month had seen numerous social outings - the Fourth of July, my 40th Birthday celebration, our large-scale camping trip to Jellystone with our Midland social order.  The last couple weeks since then has been, well, pretty mundane.  Kris went to work, the kids hung about the house, for the most part unable to socialize with friends outside of those whose parents we were super-close with, and Yours Truly focusing on resurrecting his yard after weeks of little-to-no rain.

We were getting stir crazy after a week or two of this, so Kris and I decided to nab us a few more highlights that we could look back on later and say, "See?  We did stuff last summer!"  It was quickly decided that we needed to hit up a beach and let the kids frolick about in the sun, away from TVs and device screens, and enjoy some of the natural wonders this state of ours has at its disposal. 

Hence our repeated trips out to Caseville, on the western shores of Michigan's thumb.

Geographically accurate.

The beach was awesome, not crowded in the slightest, and a manageable hour-and-a-half drive from our house.  The first time we headed out there - totally on a whim, leaving after lunch and without putting a lot of foresight into it - ended prematurely:  after enjoying the beach for about a half-an-hour, we were assaulted by giant storm clouds that brought thunder and rain in sheets.  Disappointed with our lackluster trip to the beach, we headed back out, two days later, in the early morning, in order to get a full day of sun and lake under our belts.

And, to save time and energy (as I am, indeed, a lazy, lazy man), I've compressed both outings into a single, solitary blog post.  You're welcome.

So here you go, folks:  The Houghs Visit Caseville, Episodes I and II.

Enjoy.

Our first attempt at the beach at Caseville.  Dark foreboding on the horizon. . .

Bikini weather.  For the time being.

Definitely reminiscent of Florida. . .

Getting a snack after splashing about in Lake Huron for a bit.

Kris and her selfies. . .

Fellow beach-goers begin to pack up as the approaching storm begins to roll in with a fury.

We probably could've chosen a better day to come to Caseville. . .

These millennials were seated right in front of us.  They had to take, like, thirty Instagram pics (I assume) of themselves at the beach.  I hate this generation with a passion.

A much more-deserted beach.  We were one of the last to leave, but our departure was inevitable.

On the drive back to Midland, we drove through the town and stopped off at this ice cream joint so the kids could cherish a small victory from the day's exploits.

Alayna and Kris are not impressed with one another's selections.

As long as sugar was involved, Abby was cool with missing out on a day at the beach.

Caseville, Take Two.  This time Kris decided to haul along this frickin' beach umbrella of ours that we use, like, once every six years.  I have no idea why we still own it.

The girls, for whatever reason, decided to play in the sand directly next to the sidewalk.  Who knows why.

This is what I do at the beach.  Read and bronze.

We never found the rest of her body, sadly.

Seriously.  Nothing about this looks fun in the slightest.

Chasing after carrion on the beach.  Never gets old.

 

After hanging out at the beach for a couple hours, we decided to walk about a half a mile down the beach to a nearby pier to check it out.  The kids made short work of any obstacle along the way.

The Houghs, Beach Edition. (I totally look like some random stranger that photobombed this family trying to get a pic at the beach.)

(You can see the pier there in the distance.)

Some washed up trees (seriously) that were lying across the sand.

After nearly a decade in Florida, it's jarring to go out into this water and find that it lacks salt.

Abby, in the zone.

Continuing on. . .

Finally at the pier. . .

The Cannonball watches the waves crash against the pier (the wind was much stronger out on the water.)

It was a pretty long walk out to the end, but the girls were insistent.

I assume there's a light of some kind on the top of this to warn approaching ships at night.  But who knows.

My roommates, on a pier.

I love checking this stuff out.

Well, no shit.

Abby leaves her mark on the beach (we didn't have anything sharp with which to carve into the metal pole, I guess.)

'Houghs Rule.'  Tell your friends.

After checking out the pier the kids were getting hungry, so we hit up a beach-side restaurant to grab some dinner (where we gorged ourselves on not-at-all-healthy, fried food.). Afterwards, we drove back to Midland, proud that our second attempt at the beach was significantly more successful than our first.

- Brian

One Last Hurrah on the Muskegon

For real.

Hi gang.

So, it was exactly one week ago - to the day - that I had last canoed down the Muskegon River.  Since that day, Yours Truly has been busy with occupying himself with the setting up of his classroom, buying last-minute, Back to School crap for myself and the girls, and otherwise preparing mentally for the impending doom of September 4th and Work.

Loading up at the Marion campground to shuttle over to the launching point.

My old high school buddy, Sean, had been trying to get a bunch of the old high school crew together for a canoeing adventure sometime in August, and while he was in the planning phase of everything, I expressed my interest in going.  Eventually, he settled on today, and, coincidentally chose the Muskegon River as the venue.  At the last second, the McNerney clan backed out, as did a couple others, so in the end it was only Sean and I, his girlfriend and daughter, his sister and her husband, and their four kids.

Unlike the last time I went canoeing on the Muskegon, this wasn't going to be some two-hour in-and-out.  No, with Sean planning it, it was destined to be a grand adventure of epic proportions.  FOUR HOURS of canoeing, with multiple hour-long stops for swimming and hanging out. 

We were on the river for seven hours, all the while thunderstorms threatened to drown us in a fury and I fought off an excruciating headache for the last two hours of it. 

But it was still a hell of a lot of fun.

Check it out. . .

Passing under the first bridge on the river, filled with graffiti from the '70s and '80s, by the looks of things.

A bit dreary out, we were expecting rain and brought ponchos and rain jackets, just in case.

I ended up in the back of a canoe with Sean's girlfriend, Sara.

Sean and his daughter, Grace.

Like I had seen in the Muskegon River last week (remember?), there were a heck of a lot of trees falling into the river.  I assume because the water level is low and the exposed tree roots lose their grip or something after drying out.  I don't know, I have no idea how trees work.

We ran into a large group of rowdy drunks along this dune cliff thing, fortunately the river was wide enough so they couldn't splash us. . . which is, like, the universal thing drunk people do when they stop canoeing and see other folks pass by.

Making a pit stop.

We decided to pull our canoes over to the small beach, at center.  We had been on the river for about an hour at this point and some folks wanted to take a break and swim for a bit.

This ended up being our longest stop of the trip - we were here for over an hour.

Sean, keeping it classy as always.

Back on the river. . .

We beamed my Classic Rock playlist off my phone to Sean's Bluetooth Speaker, once his phone died, which worked really well for the remainder of the trip

Pulling alongside for a snack break.

We came across quite a few patches of super thick fog throughout the afternoon, like this.

 

More fog.

About three hours in, the sun came out.  The forecast had been something ridiculous like 80% thunderstorms, but we hadn't seen a single drop of rain up to this point.  The sun was welcome, indeed.

Taking another break to stop and let kids roll down a sandy hill.

Trouble brewing. . .

Sean supervises the rope swing.

 

After another half-hour of canoeing, we stopped for a bathroom break at this little tributary stream. . .

After about four and half hours on the river, folks began to get tired of canoeing.  Sara was spent, so I ended up canoeing us the rest of the way.  My head was POUNDING at this point, too, and the skies continued to grow darker and darker.  We were all running out of gas.

 

This dude has a ridiculous amount of street signs in his backyard.  How has no one reported him yet?  Hundreds and thousands of people must canoe past his house every summer. . .

At long last, we finally arrived back at the campground.  After stowing our canoes with the camp people, I said my goodbyes and set off back for Midland.  It was only on my drive back home that it started to rain, we had been incredibly fortunate this afternoon.  Still, next time we all decide to do a High School group canoe outing, I'm going to seriously lobby for a shortened amount of time.

- Brian