7/31/98 10AM Fox river campground

Finally declared myself ready yesterday, and with a big push, packed the car and left at 10:30PM.

Night driving is comfortable for me - cool, little traffic, time to ponder as the miles roll by.

As I approached the Mackinac Bridge, the sky seemed bright . At first, I thought that Mackinaw city had grown to the point where the light pollution was illuminating a thin fog. Only after crossing the bridge, when the bright haze still lay before me, did I realize that I was looking at the most extensive display of Aurora Borealis I had ever seen. I stopped at one point, just to admire it. Unfortunately, just across from the rest stop was a brightly-lit motel which blinded me and my camera, and made photographing it impossible, but I did get one shot to the south, of the Mackinac bridge with its distinctive lights.

Finally pulled into camp at 4:30AM. I was asleep by 5! Awakened around 9 by the ranger coming by to ticket me for not registering before I set up camp. I packed up the tent, and drove into town to get some breakfast, and more important, some small bills so I could pay the registration fee. Grand Marais village is on the shores of Lake Superior, and has a beautiful natural harbor, with an excellent beach, right downtown. It appeared that a group of kayakers were just returning from an early-morning expedition, I imagine to the nearby Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. While there, I bought another 5-gallon collapsible water jug, and when I returned, I filled it from the artesian well.

That well is the reason I chose this particular campsite. Many years ago, I stumbled upon this campground, which is built on the site of an old NDR fish hatchery. It's rustic, not heavily used, yet conveniently located and sports one of the best-tasting artesian wells I have ever found. It's become my mandatory first stop on every trip to the U.P. Since the well runs continuously, it feeds this small pond nestled in the woods between two campsites.

As I began to head west, I stopped at Munising, on the other ens of the Pictured Rocks area. There, in a city park, is one of the many waterfalls the UP has to offer. Munising falls is on a small stream, falling into a rocky gorge. The falls are reached by a short walk from downstream. This walk is quite pleasant in itself, as the path follows the babbling brook which is the outflow from the falls. The walk at one time, followed a path along the undercut cliff behind the falls, but for safety reasons, they have closed that off several years ago. Today, the path splits to two separate observation points on each side of the falls, but do not continue behind the falls. Along the path are evidence of continued erosion of the cliff, giving good reason for the claim that a section could fall at any time, and it's unwise to walk under the falls. All the while, the sound of falling water beccons me on, until the falls themselves come into view

From there, I headed west to Iron Mountain, for a visit with a dear friend, Shirley Mande, whom I've known as long as I can remember as 'Sammie'. This visit was as warm and relaxed as any, and this time I had the pleasure of meeting her other two grown kids, who had been off at school during my last visit several years ago. An evening of conversation, a relaxing walk by the lake, and a good night's sleep, and I was back on the road again.