Middle America

Lapeer – Gladwin, via Linwood, Michigan

Before we get too far into today’s blog, I just wanted to take a second on campground firewood. A very important topic, and kind of a pet peeve of mine. 

Now, I can understand charging $7 for a little bundle of firewood. It’s a good way to make some extra cash. I get it. It’s like the bike shop that doesn’t make much on the bike itself, but they get you on things like locks and water bottles and bells and stuff. 

The thing is, though, usually the water bottles hold water, the locks lock things, and the bells ring.

The problem with most campfire wood is that it doesn’t fulfill its most basic purpose – producing fire. I mean, it’s usually great at smoke. But flame? Not so much. 

You see, in order to produce flame you have to have dry wood. That requires some patience, and a plan. Cut the wood, set it aside for a year or two – hopefully in a relatively protected place – and then sell it when it’s dry. 

But that’s not what happens. 

It’s more like this: cut the wood, sell the wood. 

It does produce money for the campground – but come on. You can do better than that . . .

Indeed, it usually takes me about five minutes to find much better fuel for the fire. Much drier. Smaller pieces – wrist thick is generally the best combination of easy to start and long-lasting. And with some kindling, so that one can actually start a fire in the first place. 

I re-learned all this again the other day. Hadn’t purchased wood in a while and I figured that maybe Michigan campgrounds were somehow better on this score. 

Wrong!

Of course, in the event that civilization collapses and email and cellular service stops working, then, by all means, buy this wood. Because it is great for sending smoke signals. The Facebook of yesteryear. 

Okay. Sorry. I’m done now. Just had to get that out of my system.

Today’s “real” topic also involves campgrounds. 

But let me offer a little prelude . . .

Speaking of Facebook, a few days ago I saw a post from an old friend. It started as your typical anti-Trump post. 

He has no morals, he cares only about money, he’s a criminal, and he’s just generally a bad person. Nothing new there . . .

But then it went on – with some British guy saying that Trump’s popularity belies what the United States has always been: a land and a people without morality that cares only for money. 

I must say that I found this pretty offensive. I mean, really? Have you heard of World War II? A lot of Americans gave their lives to stop the Nazis and bail out the Brits. Or the Civil War? Good people laid down their lives to eradicate slavery. I could go on and on . . .

And then I saw a headline about how more Americans than ever think that we are irreconcilably divided. 

Combine these tidbits with riding through rural Michigan, and I’ve been thinking . . . Always a dangerous thing. 

So the other night we’re staying at your typical modern campground. There are about a million recreational vehicles. And there are kids riding round and round the campground roads on their little bikes. 

We can hear the kids talking as they ride:

“I was falling behind, but now I put it in gear so I’m faster.”

”Guys, watch out here. I did a skid turn and I slid out. Watch out, you could fall.”

Practicing to be adults . . .

And then there’s the little girl “driving” her pretend car around the campground in one of those plastic Walmart vehicles that make fake engine sounds for the ten minutes that they work before they molder away in the yard, or end up in the dump.

Later, we’re trying to sleep when another family comes in with their colossal RV – I think it’s called the Invader or something. They literally spend the next 90 minutes trying to squeeze the mammoth moving house between the trees and picnic tables and such. The noise of their diesel 4×4 super duty pickup truck going back and forth is almost unbearable. 

The only thing missing is a leaf blower. And maybe an ATV or two. 

The interesting thing is that all this has snuck up on us. There’s a whole subculture of people who basically live at these campgrounds/RV parks. They have full-on Halloween decorations. Sheds. Lights strung up. Decks. Sometimes they even have a big flat screen tv affixed to the side of their RV so that they can sit outside and watch football. 

It’s tempting to just write all these people off. From our upper-income, over-educated, city dwelling perspective these are the folks that voted for Donald Trump and they are not entitled to our kindness or respect. I find my own mind heading down that path on occasion. . .

But the thing is that these are actually nice people. They may have noisy hobbies. And we may be tempted to think that they are the ones driving climate change – with their gasoline powered habits. But, of course, most of our crowd is busy heating and cooling their big houses and flying all over the world – even if we also own a Tesla and three e-bikes so that no one can doubt our great virtues . . . 

And I’m pretty sure these folks score just as high, if not higher, on the kindness and generosity scale. 

Let’s look at our last few days.

First, there was Tom – the super-generous ATV-driving guy who let us use his grill and picnic table the other day. Then, yesterday we met two different couples at the campground – both offering to help us out after seeing us bike in. 

“I know you can’t carry much, and I saw you collecting sticks in the woods. We have lots of extra firewood and you’re welcome to take it all,” says Molly, who, with her husband, Dave, has an RV site a little ways from our tent. 

Then she asks where we’re heading and offers advice on the best roads to take.

A few minutes later another woman approaches. She’s carrying two bottles of water. 

“I know weight is a premium when you’re biking, and you’re probably thirsty with this heat,” she says, putting the waters on the table. 

Angie and her husband, Steve, live in central Michigan. They’ve been coming to this campground for years. Angie’s dad was a carpet guy, Steve’s a carpet guy, and Angie’s brother is also in the carpet business. 

Angie complains that they can’t afford the campground anymore because the price for seasonal camping has gone way up. They’re just staying for the night now. They’re up late at night, chatting and staring into the fire. 

My guess is that all these folks voted for Donald in the last election. 

Which is a bummer. 

But I’m not willing to write these people off. 

Remember when Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader are in their epic battle? 

Luke tells Vader:

”I know there is good in you. I can feel it.”

(And then the grotesque emperor is looking on – no idea who the analogue for him might be …)

It’s like that with these folks. 

They’re not sitting around thinking of ways to undermine the Constitution. 

The Democrats – or, if not them, someone else – has to offer these people a better vision for our country. I have my ideas on what that should look like. But that’s not a topic for the blog. Maybe another over-a-beer discussion . . .

The point is that I think we can get this great experiment in democracy that we call the United States back on track. And I definitely don’t think that we have always been a country full of shallow self-centered people. 

There is good in us. Not only can I feel it – but I have seen it over and over again . . .

The last few days of biking and camping?

Amazing.

We were pretty nervous about what this leg of our journey would look like. This late in the year it could be cold. Could be windy. Rainy. Maybe even some snow.

Instead it’s been day-after-day of fair skies – with temperatures in the 70s and 80s. 

Crazy.

The camping has been great. We haven’t even had dew the last few days. And, while the campgrounds still don’t have grills to cook on, we’ve managed to have some pretty nice fire pit meals. 

One other thing before I go. 

The water.

You travel to Mexico and you expect to have bad water. But Ontario and Michigan? Not so much. 

Nonetheless, water around here is clearly an issue. Multiple gas stations have had signs warning against drinking from the taps.And many of the lakes and rivers have been yucky – with no swimming allowed. 

Yesterday we camped on Lake Huron. Diana was all excited. She could finally swim. Then we saw the water. Mucky. Weedy. And we found out that no one swims in the area because the Saginaw River empties into the lake in this vicinity – carrying with it all of its farm runoff – which pollutes the lake. 

It’s pretty sad when a state is literally surrounded by water (Michigan is bordered by five different Great Lakes) and still has water problems. 

The whole farming thing has got to be figured out. The world just can’t go on squeezing every last ear of corn out of the land and expect to have a good planet to live on. 

Sorry – I was trying to end on a positive note.

Here’s one . . .

Tomorrow we should make it to our old friends, Mark and Sue’s house, south of Cadillac. We’re pretty excited. More great people.

And then onto Ludington and the ferry – and, Shazam – we’ll be in Wisconsin – only one state away from Minnesota. Pretty sure we’ll be eating salted nut rolls any day now . . .