Day 46: Michigan Rocks! Aye?

Today was a joyride, on a number of levels.

We rode 82 miles from Indiana Dunes State Park to South Haven. The scenery was exquisite. Much of the route was along Lake Michigan which was beautiful as always. It was cloudy in the morning in Indiana, with rain lurking just ahead of us, as evidenced by the wet roads we kept seeing. I had packed a raincoat as a precaution, but thankfully did not need to use it. Michigan welcomed us with bright blue skies that highlighted the beauty of the lake and the land. When the route took us inland, the woods provided the views.

I rode with Anne and Jerry in the morning. We put 50 miles on by noon (which wasn't bad considering we lost an hour), with a lengthy stop at a coffee shop in Sawyer. There was a headwind, but rotating the lead made it a non-factor. Shortly after noon we arrived at a refreshment stop provided by St. Joseph CRC. There to greet me was Flo Mejeur, who had married one of my college housemates. Steve arrived a bit later. We did a bit of catching up. The fact that they are reading this blog and would go to the effort to connect along the route is so encouraging and affirming.

Talking with them did mean that I dropped off from our highly compatible trio. I biked by myself for a while, then with Hans and Dick until we reached a SAG where they stopped and I didn't. I continued by myself, enjoying the freedom to chant a few psalms as loud as I could.

When Paul and Teresa came up behind me I cut the volume. They moved by me quite easily and I decided I'd had enough chanting and could use some more practical help with the wind. I caught up with them and they graciously pulled me along, Teresa leading the way. I find this surprising, because she has serious enough asthma to require daily management. She could not bike in the mountains, above 7000 feet, because of difficulty breathing. In the lowlands of Michigan, she is a horse!  (That is a compliment; it means that she carried me.)

We rode into South Haven about 2:30 and went to one of the local establishments.  In view of our entry into Canada next week, the Canadians there educated me in the meaning and proper use of "aye."  According to Pieter P.  "aye" is a gracious invitation into a conversation.  "Nice place for a beer, aye?"  How can a person not say something in response?  They assured me that if I mastered the use and inflection of "aye" by the time I reach the border I would not need my passport.

After leaving, I still had a mile to ride to get to the camp.  It was the hardest mile of the day.  My muscles protested, "What are you doing?  You've already celebrated the end of the ride; we're not moving!"  There was even a hill before the entrance to the school.  As I labored up the incline, guess who sped by?  Teresa.  "Let me pull you in," she said.  And she did.

That's grace, aye?