Up North 2005 Day 2 >

Day 1 - The Drive to Bay View Campground in the Upper Peninsula

Saturday, September 3rd

An Unexpected Turn of Events

Ian warned me in the morning that he was pessimistic about when he could be ready. He seemed to have a lot to do, although I didn't know what it could be, since most of the packing was already done. But I still had things to do so I was not worried.

However, a little later he told me that he was feeling really "shitty". He'd slept badly, his legs were feeling tight, and he was worried about the trip. He was anxious about camping but was concerned too about accommodating me. I suggested that we take a break and go down to the cafe to discuss this further.

Just that week we'd talked about his need to relax and decompress for the first few days of a vacation. For him, camping doesn't allow him to do this. On top of that, there are issues like inclement weather and irritating insects. I enjoy the challenges of camping, but he doesn't want challenges on his vacation, he just wants to relax.

He enjoys some aspects of camping, but he only recently told me that on last year's trip to the same region, he'd been ready to leave after three days. I had known that the cold temperatures and rain had been hard on him, but I hadn't realized that he'd felt that bad. I recalled trying to help him find ways to stay warm. I hadn't wanted him to be cold either.

As we talked at the cafe, it became clear to me that if I wanted to camp this week, Ian should not go for that part of the trip. He said that he might feel differently on Sunday, but I didn't think so. Everything he'd said today and earlier in the week made me realize that we should not take the risk of taking him camping for a full week.

I could not believe this was happening. I asked him how he'd feel about me going ahead without him and us meeting on the Bruce Peninsula, when our cottage became available. He he supported this decision. I had not thought this out in detail, but I knew that my camping vacation could slip away if I waited for him to feel better. Even if he felt better, there were no guarantees that camping would go well for him.

The Shock

I felt shocked that we had made this decision. I couldn't see any other way to do it at the time. I'd been looking forward to this trip since Spring. If I didn't go camping now, I might not get to go camping at all this summer. I'd had some warning given our discussion earlier in the week. And during our colder trips, he had a hard time. But this turn of events was totally unexpected.

As I would learn later, there was much that I did not understand about why Ian could not go. Not all of it was about camping. But camping was the clincher. Had we been going to the cottage first, the trip might have turned out differently.

I had no idea at this time what would unfold over the next week because of this decision. I just knew I had to go. I wanted badly to get on the road before it was too late to leave on Saturday. Before I left we talked about ways to stay in touch while we were apart.

Growing Doubts

Not far north of town I hit a lot of construction traffic which ate into my travel time. I was a little worried for the rest of the drive about whether I'd make it before dark. Although I listened to music as I drove, I was pretty disturbed by what had happened, and what it might mean.

I stopped at a rest area to phone my brother Brendan. He too was shocked at what had happened. He couldn't believe that Ian had waited so long to express such strong doubts. But he also wanted to know why we hadn't decided to do something else together. He himself wouldn't want to camp for a week by himself.

We talked at length, and I was left wondering whether I'd done the right thing. I didn't know what else to do. For the rest of the drive, however, I was plagued by doubts, and wondered if we'd both regret this decision. I also wondered what was to become of our future trips together, which had been largely camping-oriented.

Brendan did not see not camping together as a deal breaker, and I agreed. But I suddenly felt like I was married to someone I didn't really know. I felt as if Ian's bad memories of camping overshadowed my good memories of what it was like to camp with him.

Brendan had asked me whether I was worried about Ian. I was a little worried. I had left him at a time when he was feeling pretty bad. But it had also seemed to me that his spirits had lifted when he learned that he would not be forced to camp and that I could still get what I needed.

Brendan doesn't assume that any particular girl he might be hooked up with is into camping. For him camping is separate. For me, however, camping meant camping with Ian. We'd been camping together for about seven years now. A lot of my pleasure comes from sharing the experience with him.

Thoughts on the Road

As I drove my thoughts turned to my attachment to places. It is one reason I was driving hundreds of miles away from Ian -- to be at Lake Superior, a place I loved. I yearn to revisit beloved places and re-experience pleasurable events.

On my trip to Pittsburgh I'd visited the beloved forest of my youth. I'd explored much more of it as an adult than I had as a teenager. On my recent trip home I'd discovered new parts of it, but had not spent as much time exploring as I would have liked. I missed this quiet refuge when I returned to Ann Arbor.

I had also wanted to re-create the bicycle ride I'd taken the year before (see Bicycling in the Pennsylvania Alps) when I was home this year. Part of my reason for coming home had been to ride again. The 2004 ride in Pittsburgh had been the highlight of my cycling season. It had also presented me with a physical challenge I cannot duplicate where I live. Pittsburgh has hills to challenge the fittest of riders.

I also missed my family, so soon after my visit. There had been unforgettable upheaval while I was home. We had drawn together as a family and rallied around my mom, whom my dad and I had unintentionally injured. Me, my dad, and Brendan had discussed at length why she might have been so offended by what we'd done. It was the frankest discussion I'd ever had with my dad. I was able to broach topics I'd wanted to discuss for years.

We'd drawn close together, closer than I'd ever felt. I missed them once I returned to Ann Arbor, and had called twice this week just to talk and to check up on how things were with my mom. Now, on the road, Brendan had been the first person I'd thought to call in my time of need.

The Shrapnel

Once I had reached the general vicinity of the campground in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (fondly referred to as the "U.P."), I tried to call Ian but he wasn't reachable, so I left a message. When I reached the campground I was relieved to have arrived before dark. But there were no lake-side sites, only sites across the camp road. I was disappointed because I'd remembered the Bay View campground for its proximity to the beach.

The site I chose was adjacent to a site occupied by another single woman. Over the course of the evening I would come to wish that I could talk with her, but it was not meant to be. When I stopped the car, the tears came. I was very confused; how could this have happened?

I pulled a few things out of the car, but I really wanted to see the beach. But on the beach I felt even worse. Everything felt wrong. Ian should be here with me. I was incapable of enjoying the beach, even though I'd been looking forward to being up here for months.

My eyes were burning from all the crying, so I set up camp before paying to give them a chance to return to normal. I felt the urgent need to talk to Ian before I went to sleep that night. I hoped to find a phone closer than the one I'd used earlier because that one was a fair distance from the campground.

I tried a few places along the road, but a restaurant and the grocery had no public phone. The nearest phone was 11 miles away, at the Indian casino. Ian was at his dad's house. He said he felt OK. I felt horrible. I poured out my misery into the phone. I told him that I'd never missed him so much in my life. I felt so wretched that I didn't know how I'd make it through the night. He seemed distant. He did not share my feelings and there was not much he could say to comfort me . If I didn't feel better in the morning, I planned to return home.

Back at the campground, the woman in the next site had gone inside her tent. I regretted that we wouldn't be able to exchange greetings and maybe talk. I was feeling very lonely. But tonight nothing was going to go the way it should. I'd wanted to enjoy the beach, but couldn't. I'd wanted to enjoy the sunset, but had missed it on the way back from the casino.

After eating I returned to the beach. But seeing the togetherness of other camping families accentuated my loneliness. I spent my time on the beach thinking. I didn't want my vacation to be ruined, so I would have to make the best of it. I also wondered whether I might need to re-evaluate my priorities. At the time, being with Ian felt much more important to me than camping. But how could I have known that if I had I stayed home?

The Calm after the Storm

I started feeling better back at the campsite. With darkness came a seeming decrease in the amount of space around me. I felt cozily enveloped by the small area which the lantern's light illuminated. Inside the tent, my environment felt even closer and more intimate.

I had a restless night at first. I was not used to my new mummy-style sleeping bag. It took me a long time to get into a comfortable sleeping position. I would have driven Ian crazy with all of my thrashing. The rest of the night passed restfully. I awoke early feeling better, knowing I was going to make it.