Ride

 The bedside clock reads 6:37 am. The sun won't rise this time of year for more than an hour, but I unwrap myself from my cozy bed and shuffle to the kitchen for coffee. The rest of the cabin is still and quiet, but in the distance, I can already hear them.  The snowmobiles.  The distant revving of snow machines headed out to the trails so early on this frigid zero degree morning. 

Our family has been coming to this lake here in Gaylord since the 1930's.  I know this place.  But prior to 1999, I had only known half of it.  Our family cabin on the lake was only open from May to October.  I had heard stories of this place in the winter, with snow as deep as a grown man.  Stories of drifts so high a person could sled from the roof of the cabin right out onto the lake.  But to me, this was a summer getaway, and I was not interested in a colder, snowier winter than what we already experienced at home.

Then I met this guy.  And while he had, like me, grown up swimming and skiing in the warm, northern Michigan lakes every summer, he had also grown up snowmobiling on snowy trails in the Upper Peninsula every winter. That guy, of course, was Jason.  Every year, his family and friends set aside the week after Christmas to snowmobile up north.  Soon enough, I was added into this mix.  

That first year, I rode on the back of Jason's snowmobile.  This was not ideal because: 1. His snowmobile was made for one person, and 2. He likes to go really fast.  But he took one for the team that year, and I learned how to lean into the curves and how to hang on for dear life.  It's something special to be within a long line of snowmobiles, all enjoying the trails and the scenery and stopping every few hours to warm up before heading back out into the cold for more.

That first year didn't go off without a hitch, though. The night before our final day of riding, I somehow ended up playing pool and doing shots of Black Velvet at the bar, long into the night.  The next morning I was not a pretty picture. I told Jason there was no way I could ride that day and to just go without me.  While everyone had breakfast and were gearing up to ride, I sprinted to the bathroom and puked my guts out until there was literally nothing left inside me.  Jason came back to the room and had told the rest of the group to go without him.  I promptly said I was feeling much better and I thought I could ride.  In a mad rush, I pulled myself together and hopped on the back of his sled. We had to catch up with the group!  If I thought Jason had driven fast before, this was next-level.  We were flying.  And then, on a sharp curve, I was literally flying-right off the sled!  I landed and skidded through the snow in such a way that my entire helmet filled up with icy snow.  Of course, I was livid and he was chuckling.  Deep breaths.  After some curse words and threats of death directed at him, Jason agreed to take it a little easier on me.  We made it to Trout Lake just as the others were ordering, and Jason was oh-so-happy to have made it in time, as this place served the best Pasties in the UP.  What the heck is a Pastie?  I had so much to learn.

The next year, we visited Tahquamenon Falls.  I had been there in the summer before, but had never imagined seeing it in the winter.  The free-flowing water and lush greenery was replaced with snow and ice and the falls seemed to have frozen mid-fall.  It was amazing.

I just had no idea that so many people came to northern Michigan and the Upper Peninsula in the winter.  The summery beach towns transformed into warming spots for weary riders and launch pads for trailers full of snowmobilers to unload. Gas stations were filled with not cars, but snowmobilers.  Hotels and restaurants had built-in places to hang helmets and winter gear.  Why had I never noticed all the tiny stop signs and directional signs at road and trail crossings?  And everywhere, the sound of the sleds.  

Some years, the trip didn't go as planned.  Once, we arrived at our hotel to find there was no snow.  Our caravan moved west.  And further west.  And all the way west to Lake Gogebic.  And when we finally found the snow, there was soooo much of it.  We rode all night that first night.  At one point, I looked over to find a startled deer running along side me, unsure of where it should go to get away from all of this chaos!  And even when the snow was perfect for riding, there always seemed to be a sled that needed work.  On some occasions, a local would offer a warm garage so the men could take a snowmobile apart and miraculously find parts and get things fixed up for the next day's ride.  On other occasions, we'd have to leave a snowmobile beyond repair to be picked up by trailer, and we would double up on another's sled.  

And some years, the snow was amazing.  So amazing that Jason would not be able to resist taking little side trails that were untouched, or even making his own trails through the woods.  This is called "boondocking".  I learned the hard way several times that following him on these little adventures almost always resulted in me burying my sled in waist-deep snow, and waiting for him to come back and dig me out.

When Greyson was a baby, my parents bought a little cabin around the corner from our cabin on the lake.  This new cabin was built to withstand Michigan weather year-round.  As the grandkids grew in number, so did the need for more space.  A few years ago, my dad added a second story onto that little cabin and doubled the living space.  We now have a great place to enjoy our lake town in both summer and winter. Our kids have grown up snowmobiling here.  When the snow flies, we are northbound.

Greyson fell in love with it pretty much as soon as he could walk...

Alayna followed suit, and will be legal to drive her own snowmobile next year...

Emerson loves riding, and lounging, but I think she's really in it for the hot chocolate...

And Nash?  The hum of those machines just puts that boy to sleep!

Of course, there are also sled rides around the cabin, too.

And Grey has now taken my place, following Jason on his boondocking adventures.

This year has been strange for a couple of reasons.  First of all, there has been minimal snow, even in northern Michigan.  And second, we are in the middle of a pandemic.  Northern Michigan and the Upper Peninsula have had their fair share of COVID-19 cases, despite restaurants and bars and other public places being closed.  How would snowmobile season happen if there was nowhere to warm up and eat throughout the days?  Well, people got creative.  Heated tents were put up.  Single group "bubbles" were erected.  Huge bonfires were built with outdoor seating.  And hey, if you build it, they will come, right?  

With just enough snow to make the trails passable, snowmobile riders have flocked to the trails this year.  Gaylord, which usually has an abundance of snow and more arriving nearly daily all winter, has just ten inches on the ground.  And with hundreds of sleds passing over the same spots every day, there is not much the groomers can do. Snirt, a snow/dirt mix, is the norm this year.  But the kids were itching to ride, and we did.  

Saturday arrived, cold and clear, and everyone was up and out the door by 10:00 am.  Seven of us rode, and the others planned to meet us for outdoor lunch and dinner throughout the day.  

We headed north on the Iron Belle Trail.  This trail will eventually connect Belle Isle near Detroit to Ironwood in the Upper Peninsula.  A couple times this year, I have run from our cabin north on this trail, and this Saturday, with its zero degree temperature and winter wonderland display, was a far cry from the heat and black flies of July.  

Our first stop of the day was just north of Wolverine, at the Thirsty Sturgeon, where we had a great lunch around a bonfire.  

And what trip would be complete without a stop at Larry's in Elmira?  If you know, you know.

Our last stop of the day was at Settings in Lakes of the North, where the tent was cold and the bonfire was crowded.  We opted to just stay for a few minutes before the ride home.  The sun was going down and I was having a hard time staying warm.

We rode a hundred miles on Saturday.  Greyson and Emerson drove their own sleds, and led the way all day with Grandpa.  I hung out at the back of the pack, as I often do while running.  I like to stop and take pictures along the way, before catching back up to the group.  By the time we made it back to the cabin, the trails were toast.  Two days later my back is still sore from the endless bumps on the too-little-snow trail.  But we did it.  We battled a pandemic and we battled the under-producing weather, and we all now have another year of snowmobile stories to tell.  

Soul Food in the Time of COVID

 Winters are long here in Michigan, and I think even if you like the snow and coldness, by February you're really getting the itch for the warmer weather of springtime.  For many of us, it seems as though the thaw takes way too long, and we plan getaways, even if only for a little while.  That's where this story begins.

In February of this year, a group of running girlfriends and I had a group chat going.  Somehow the conversation turned from yet another snowy run to wishes for a little more of an adventure. We needed to get out of here.  Between kids' schedules and work schedules and regular life, the getaway would have to be short but epic. I was asked to look into flights to Colorado, and boom, plans started to be made.  I found a ridiculously cheap round-trip flight with room for the six of us to fly into Denver, where we would rent a van, stay the night in a hotel, get up really early and climb a 14'er (one of Colorado's amazing 14,000 foot mountains) and finish in time to return the van and hop the flight home that same night.  24 hours of jam-packed fun and excitement was booked and paid for and scheduled for mid-May.

And then you know what happen next: COVID-19 arrived.  Not only did it arrive, but it all but shut our country, and the world, down.  The pause button had been pushed on our trip, and on nearly all non-essential travel.  

So we waited.  Colorado in summer sounded like a good plan, until things still were not good here.  So we waited longer.  Fall in Colorado would be so beautiful, right?  But slowly we realized a 2020 trip west was not in the cards for us.  Like the all-powerful moms, multi-taskers, and adventurers we are, we dreamed a new dream.  

Perhaps this would be a good time to introduce these amazing women.  While we are all runners and all moms, we are a diverse group.  We come from all over this great state of Michigan, and our jobs range from Dental Hygienist (Misty) to Business Professionals (Brandy and Amy) to Critical Care Nurses (Lisa and Teresa) to stay-at-home mom (Me).

Once all of our kids were settled into their new school routines in these strange times, we started talking about how we could get together without having to make big travel plans.  Amy so generously offered up her vacation cabin, having just enough space for all of us. We agreed that a Northern Michigan getaway in the fall would be perfect.  Our main goal would be to travel to Mackinaw Island on that Saturday and run the Great Turtle Half Marathon course, but of course that wasn't all we had planned.  Also on the list for the weekend was biking, kayaking, hula-hooping, and general shenanigans.  We planned food and clothing and arranged work and school schedules and waited for our weekend to arrive.

The first weekend in October managed to work with all of our schedules, and I was excited to get some more time in Northern Michigan during what was turning out to be an exceptionally picturesque fall season.  After sending the kids off to school on that Friday morning, I packed way too many clothes, shoes, gear, what-if supplies, and food items into my truck.  Oh, and I also had Jason throw my brand new granny bicycle into the back.  And then I was northbound, just a wild and free mama excited for a weekend away.  

The day was clear and bright and my excitement built as a exited I-75 and headed northeast from there. I hadn't been to the northern shore of Lake Huron since college, and I was looking forward to taking in the sights.  My GPS decided to take me on an extra-scenic route, down a weird two track road with no cell service and some super sketchy hitchhikers wandering here and there.  I was oh-so-thankful when my tires once again hit the pavement and I was back in civilization.  

And then, there was Amy! I had made it to her cute little cabin on the water.  She had warned us ahead of time that there would be some big trucks blocking her driveway, but it was a little surprising to see a major construction zone! Much to her dismay, their plans of having a new well put in had coincided with our girls weekend.  She assured us that they would be gone soon, and I didn't give it another thought.

Once inside, Amy showed me to my room and I unloaded my plethora of belongings.  We sat and chatted, waiting for the others to arrive. Then, after a bathroom break, Amy came out with a look of panic on her face.  The once clear water was now brown.  The well company had told her that even if they didn't finish the new well by that Friday, they'd finish it by Monday and there shouldn't be an issue aside from some possible brown-tinted water. Of course, when she went outside to ask the workers about it, they had already left for the weekend.  Hmmm...

Around this time, Lisa, Teresa and Misty arrived in a packed truck.  When I say packed, I mean PACKED.  Clothes, shoes, gear, what-if supplies, and food, along with four kayaks, three hula hoops, and three bikes on the back.  Oh, and a partridge in a pear tree. 

While I helped the girls unload and move in, Amy was on the phone with her husband and the well company trying to figure this water issue out.  She had quickly discovered that the water wasn't just tinted brown, but it was actually mud and it had filled the pipes and stopped the pump.  No. Running. Water.

Hey, no problem, right? We were in a warm cabin, with plenty of food and jugs of water and we were all seasoned campers.  We could do this. Amy searched around and found a couple buckets and a big pitcher and we filled them with lake water.  We'd use them to flush the toilet as needed. Any embarrassment about who was doing what in the bathroom and when quickly went out the window and was more funny than anything else.  It's hard to hide when you've got to go when you have to take a bucket of water with you!

Brandy wouldn't be arriving until after dark, so the rest of us sat around and chatted and had snacks and just enjoyed being together. We talked about school and work and how much COVID had changed everything.  Lisa and Teresa had had an up-close-and-personal viewpoint of this pandemic since its appearance here in the United States, and if anyone was deserving of a weekend away from everything, it was those two. 

The day wore on and we still hadn't really done anything.  We needed to come up with a plan.  With just about two hours of daylight remaining, we decided to create our own little version of a triathlon.  While Amy put some veggie lasagna into the oven, Lisa, Teresa, Misty and I unloaded the kayaks and bikes from their truck.  We had just enough time for a 30 minute bike ride, and 30 minute run, and a 30 minute kayak on the lake.  

There was a definite chill in the air and we dressed warmly.  The bike ride around her little neighborhood was quite nice and a great little warm up before running.

Up next, we tackled a three mile run, which really warmed us up!

Then it was time for kayaking.  I had only ever kayaked on New Year's Day in the bitter cold, so I was looking forward to this experience. Daylight was fading quickly and we hurried to get out onto the water. There was a little island out there, and we made it our goal to paddle around it and back before it was too dark to see. 

I was a little chilly and my mittens were completely soaked, but we just had the best time out there on the lake.  The colors were beautiful and the lake was calm and quiet.  It couldn't have been a more perfect night.

Then, it was time to feast.  We were hungry after our little adventures, and we filled our plates and circled up in the living room once again.  

Soon, Brandy arrived and our group was complete!  We were all happy to see that she had brought just as much stuff as the rest of us.  Hey, what can I say? Moms know how to PACK!

She was a little unnerved when we informed her of our no plumbing issue, but it was soon just the way of life for her as it had become for us. Of course we stayed up later than we should have, but we eventually trickled off to our beds and slept.

Saturday morning came early for me, and I laid in bed waiting to hear the coffee pot brewing.  Soon I heard Amy moving about and could smell the scent of my life-blood brewing in the kitchen.  After a quick stop with a bucket in the bathroom I grabbed some coffee.  One by one, we made our way to the living room to eat breakfast and drink our coffee.  Brandy had brought some donuts that were quite decadent.

Amy surprised us all with an in-home yoga session on Saturday morning! Paige from Karmic Roots Yoga, along with her guitar-playing beau, met with us for a peaceful and relaxing yoga experience.  I think we all needed that time to just relax and gather ourselves after the stressful times we had all been going through, and it was a great start to our day.

And then it was time to get going!  There was a scurry of activity as we gathered our gear and dressed in layers and packed extra clothes and anything we might need for the day ahead.  We had an hour drive to Mackinaw City.  From there, we'd catch the ferry to Mackinaw Island where we would bike the exterior, and then run the interior.  Before long, we were out the door.

Due to the Cabin Water Crisis, we knew we wouldn't be able to shower there that night, and we would all desperately be needing one. As we drove to Mackinaw, we scouted out a couple state campgrounds that might have shower facilities still open, and we considered just paying for a cheap hotel and taking turns showering.  Ehhh, we'd figure something out later.

Mackinaw City was bustling for a chilly October day, but we timed it right and had just enough time to purchase our tickets and hop on the ferry.  Luckily, we were early enough to score seats in the enclosed first floor where we stayed nice and warm on the trip over to the island.

I hadn't been to Mackinaw Island since I was a kid and I was quite surprised to see how built up it seemed, as well as the number of people who had also chosen today as a good day to take in the sights. If you are not familiar with Mackinaw Island, here's a little info: The island was founded in 1780 and is home to Fort Mackinac, as well as several other military buildings and the Michigan Governor's summer home. There are no vehicles on the island aside from bicycles and horse-drawn carriages.  It's kind of like stepping back in time, aside from the Starbucks right on the main strip.  (Eeeek.)  

We hustled to a bicycle rental place where we were fitted with bikes our size.  Our order included: four regulars, a big and a small.  I was the big.  I'm always the big.

We decided to ride around the lake clockwise, and we filled up our baskets with all of our extra items we had brought.  The day was a little overcast but the lake was calm and beautiful.  I was thankful I had worn mittens because it was still a little chilly, even in early afternoon.  Once we got a little further from town, the bike traffic spread out and it was so nice and peaceful.  

The bicycles were rented by the hour, and we conveniently finished our eight mile ride in under an hour.  After paying our fees and returning our bikes, we rented a couple lockers to stash anything we didn't want to carry or wear for the running portion of the day.  

Our plan was to run the Great Turtle Half Marathon course and make it back in time to catch the last ferry at 8pm.  We had about five hours to get it done, and it seemed like plenty of time.  The first few miles were on the same paved path we had just finished biking, but in the opposite direction.  We trotted along, happily doing what we runners love to do the most.  I have to admit, we did look a bit like a strange gang with our black masks and our backpacks on and well, running.  I mean, people were biking and walking, but I didn't see anyone else running out there.  

After a few miles, we turned off the paved trail and headed to the interior of the island.  Aside from the occasional pile of stink left by horses, we seemed to have these trails nearly to ourselves.  Although I had never run this race course before, several of the other ladies had, and Brandy had actually won the half marathon a couple years ago!  Today, I'd be following their lead as I had no idea where I was going.  It turns out though, even with the maps we had and the maps posted on the trails, nobody really knew where we were going.  Every time we'd come to a trail crossing, we'd regroup and discuss which way to go.  

Here and there we'd run into others walking on the trail and we'd stop and help them figure out where they were, too.  At some point we realized this was taking much longer than we had planned.  We stopped to check out the governor's summer home and the fort...

and the arch...

And then we decided that maybe we should just start making our way back towards town.  It would be better to be a little early than to rush and possibly miss that last ferry.  So we didn't hurry, but we did decide to cut a few miles off of our half marathon route and get safely back to town.  

At some point, we realized that we'd actually be back in town to possibly make it onto the 6:30pm ferry.  Once we realized this, the race was ON.  Now we did look like a bunch of crazies running fast past the church that was just dismissing, and through the town still packed with people.  

We sprinted to the lockers, grabbed our stuff, and quickly headed to the dock.  The line was long.  Like, really long.  I had a sinking feeling that the boat would be full just before we got to board.  But the people kept filing on.  I watched the first level fill, and then the second, and then the top started to fill.  We all made it safely on board and headed up the stairs.  We couldn't sit all together, but we found seats on the very top level.  It was going to be a chilly ride home. 

And boy, was it ever.  We pulled down our hats, pulled up our buffs, zipped up our jackets, and crouched over in our seats to block the wind.  Sweaty and wet combined with the wind of the moving ferry was not a pleasant experience.  Luckily, the ride was over in about twenty minutes and as soon as we were able, we exited the boat and made our way to the car.  

We were cold, stinky and hungry.  And I think in that order.  Our first priority was finding a place to shower.  We searched for a hotel, even a dive, but couldn't find anything for under $300 a night.  We definitely didn't want to pay that for just an hour or so.  Then, as we were heading out of town, we spotted a KOA sign.  Maybe we could sneak in there and shower.  Lisa and Teresa were KOA members and we figured campgrounds wouldn't be too busy this late in the season.  As we pulled in, there was a big sign posted that said "CAMPGROUND FULL. PLEASE CALL TO CHECK IN."  Lisa told Amy not to stop and just drive on in.  We quickly realized that nearly everyone here was in a camper-no tents.  And then we realized the showers were in the main building, right up front.  We were hoping for a little spot tucked into the trees where we could duck in and out unnoticed.  But we pulled up to the main building anyway and Amy ran in to scope it out.  She quickly returned and told us to grab our shower bags. We grabbed our stuff, headed through the main bathroom area and to the shower room door. As we stepped through, we found six, SIX, clean, empty private shower rooms.  

Like the ninjas we were, we took the hottest showers ever, got completely clean and warm, put on fresh, dry clothes, and were all back in the car within 15 minutes.  That KOA never knew what hit it.  I don't know how we got so lucky, but in that moment we felt like queens.

Our next order of business was food.  Now that we were clean and dry, we were HUNGRY.  The small snack-lunch we had eaten before leaving the cabin that morning was long gone, and the trail snacks we had brought for our run had worn off as well.  We needed to eat. We decided to get out of Mackinaw and head towards home. There had to be a restaurant somewhere, right?  After perusing the internet and finding not a lot of choices, we opted for a little place in Cheboygan called Great Lakes Grill.  There was only an hour until closing time, and we were happy to have a big table in the back, away from everyone.  In an impressive and embarrassing display, we ordered nearly one of everything on the appetizer menu, along with full meals.  There was a lot of food.  Many of us ordered the house specialty, parmesan encrusted white fish, and it was soooo good. 

On the way home in the dark, Amy drove past a Halloween skeleton display.  I jokingly said she should turn around so we could check it out, and she did!  I was dying laughing as we all piled out of car and posed with the bony characters for pictures.

By the time we made it back to the cabin, we were DONE. Our day that had started with coffee and yoga and included bike riding, running and feasting had completely worn us out.  Before we called it a night, though, we decided to load up the kayaks into Lisa's truck.  The forecast for the next day wasn't promising, so we tackled the task.  Let me tell you, an all-out shitshow ensued.  Apparently we were really good at releasing the tiedowns on Friday, but making them re-fasten just 24 hours later seemed like an impossible task.  Four women, in the dark, a husband on the phone, and nearly an hour of time later, those kayaks were secure.  Hopefully.  Ugh.  

That night, the cabin got very quiet very quickly as we all fell soundly asleep.

Sunday morning greeted us with rain and coldness.  Our plans of biking and running to a local lighthouse were squashed.  In its place, Brandy and Lisa stepped in.  Brandy led us in a booty-busting group fitness class where I did more squats than I ever care to do again.

And then Lisa pulled out the hula hoops.  I didn't know it before this weekend, but Lisa is actually a certified hula hoop exercise instructor.  I actually didn't even know that was a thing!  We took turns and she taught all of us, even uncoordinated me, how to hula hoop.  Wonders never cease!  The best part, though, was watching Lisa put on a show for us.  I'm telling you, that girl could take that show on the road!  We were all mesmerized watching her pull off all kinds of amazingness! 

Sadly, after that, it was time to wrap things up.  We all packed up and loaded our cars. We gave our hugs and goodbyes and our thank yous for a weekend to remember.  In a time when things have seemed to change nearly by the day, I am thankful for a weekend of "normal" with these amazing women.  It truly was soul food in this time of COVID.