This stop is indeed a detour for us, about 50 miles out of our route to Sault Ste. Marie, but well worth it. The relentless driving has taken a toll on us and we need a break before the final legs through Ontario.
Our friends Dr. C and Lynn, who we last saw in Tucson, have provided us a haven. The Airstream is parked next to their little log home near the shore of Lake Huron, getting its own rest, and it looks like it belongs there. Since the courtesy parking spot provides full hookup, it could just stay there a while.
We’re tempted. Despite stories of mosquitoes and black flies, it’s really pleasant here. De Tour is almost the end of the road going east on the UP (there’s a ferry to Drummond Island that allows you to get a little further east). As a result, there’s no through traffic here, very few people (population 420), no crime, no roadside litter, and it’s very quiet.
Our hosts took us out for dinner up by Raber Bay, at one of the few restaurants in the area. The local specialty is whitefish, whether fried, broiled, or blackened, so we tried that (and yes, it’s good). This is one of those areas where the same “summer people” come up every year, and so when you walk in the door everyone looks up from their table to see who it is.
There are small signs of a very wealthy set of people beginning to change this small town. Dr. C took us on a tour of vintage Airstreams sitting in backyards all over town, and in the course of that we saw a few McMansions popping up too. The most peculiar had to be this house project still in progress: the aft end of a freighter, cut off and dragged to shore. It looks awful right now, but clearly whoever is building this has deep pockets.
Back at the cabin Eleanor made crepes with fresh berries and cream for all of us, and by about 10 p.m. we more or less collapsed into the Airstream. For the second day in a row I slept nine hours. Is it the long driving days or the peaceful surroundings? Either way, this is the kind of place I can really relax in. Surrounded by cedar trees, birds chirping, the lazy buzz of bees going by, a log cabin outside my window, and it’s Saturday …
