From Pentwater

The hottest day of the year, they are telling us…maybe somewhere, but I doubt it here on the lip of Lake Michigan. While the sun is growing warm, a soft breeze is blowing. It is just after 8:00 a.m.

We pulled in right at 3:00 p. yesterday. While not as busy as perhaps Grand Haven or Holland, Pentwater (Mears State Park) is a beach park not a “get back to nature” park like last weekend at Hartwick Pines. Mears is nice, but crowded. A bit more subdued than GH or Holland, but none the less it is primarily a beach park.

The park setting reminds me of El Cajon, California where we camped in March when we visited San Diego…it is that close, sandy, big RVs kind of place. But campers are campers…very friendly and welcoming; especially the older ones.

Rose does not get the best of treatment here…leashed, no room for ball or Frisbee. She is either walking or inside in the air conditioning. Right now she is at my feet as I write…outside on the picnic table, but she has to be tied. We got “gigged” last weekend by a park ranger for having her off her leash…this late Sunday when no one was around. We learned our lesson. They mean what they say even though others let their dogs tag around with them. Thank goodness she doesn’t bark at the slightest.

Aleene and I rode our bikes into town yesterday, but walked in this morning. It is only about three blocks to the business district. Not much open either time (save ice cream at night and coffee this morning.)

We watched a “kid ranger” bury his tractor in the sand last night. It is not a small rig with a bucket on the front and a rake on the back. I do not know what his mission was…as he was not raking, but digging right on the beach. Soon his tires just spun. There were a couple of campers (obviously construction types) who went over and coached him on how to use his bucket to get himself out…which he did, but not without lots of tries. I was reminded of my younger days when I would get myself into a tractor-related predicament and either Dave or HD or someone would talk me through it. It had to have been someone whose opinion I respected or I would have been unaccepting of their advice. I was curious about this young man…he stuck with it and did what they said and got himself out. A life lesson here, I think.

We are on the main track to the wash house. So all the campers who do not have bathrooms in their units parade past us; mostly women. I can tell they are women because they have bags of blow dryers, curling irons, etc. tucked under their arms on their march to the bath house. You have to look your best when rolling around on the beach.

The preacher announced yesterday that Nip Larsen died. Rhea was the financial secretary at Pearl and became a pal of mine while I was doing the same job at Fennville 25 years ago. Nip was Mike and Tim’s grand father…if not blood, then step. I don’t remember the lineage there.
He was 98.

Beautiful weather to be at Lake Michigan...which is supposed to be 70 degrees. A far cry from the mid 80s that we like to swim in.