Airplanes and Arch Rock and Fudge...oh my!

Sunday,  June 13

Mackinac Island

We were feeling pretty good after our successful retrieval operation. We had a good breakfast on the boat and we had touched base with Sharon and Frank who were headed over to the island and from whom we hoped to get an insiders’ tour of the island later in the day.

We also learned that our friend Charity was on the island and we’d invited her to come see the boat. (I swear Chuck knows someone in every port.)Everyone is vaccinated, and it feels so good to be a little more social.

Also, we were tired, so we sort of hung out on the boat doing light boat chores for the morning.

Sharon and Frank let us know that they were on their way in at about noon and sent us this picture that is a different view of Mackinac Island from the one we had. If you look really hard you can find us in the marina.

Our plan had been to rent bikes and take Feather for a run around the island the way we do at home.  We knew she probably needed a chance to stretch her legs.  Alas, that was not to be.  We had our bikes and our helmets and our free bottles of water and were getting ready to go when the manager noticed that we had a dog. Because of liability they could not let us rent the bikes with Feather unless we rented a dog carrier. This was essentially a metal crate on a trailer and both Chuck and I knew immediately that this would not end well.  

And so we walked.  We walked this time away from the downtown area and along the shoreline.  

We took Feather to the water at the first opportunity ...erm...let's not argue about who took whom...and proceeded to make our way along the rocky shoreline.



Here and there along the shoreline, we found bits and pieces of past lives, detritus washed up on the shore with stories to tell...or stories to imagine:  bits of sea glass and twisted metal, the upper leather of a shoe of indeterminate age, and old bicycle frame that someone had set back up as if it was just waiting for its rider to return.





Finally we rejoined the shoreline trail and joined the masses moving toward Arch Rock.

I stopped for a cooling sip of water from Dwightwood Springs. Yes, I ignored the Park Service's CYA sign. I promise not to sue.


And then we were at the bottom looking up.  
Strangely, the crowds thinned out as we climbed the 207 steps to the top.  Feather didn't mind at all.  One day, we'll have to see about getting her her own set of stairs to climb.


Finally, the money shot.

























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