Day 48. Oscoda to Bay City, 82 miles

Part of my shoddy foundational work in this section of the spreadsheet was that I listed Bay City as my destination following Oscoda (the latter of which I’d undercounted mileage-wise and identified a campground with no showers at [ugh, terrible grammatical construction—sorry, mom]). But the campground I’d planned to stay in and the estimated mileage was to a town 20+ miles short of Bay City. Luis and Adrienne had gotten an Airbnb for us in Bay City based on the info I gave them, and now in order to be able to spend the evening with them—which, of course—I had to ride 80+ miles by a decent hour so we could hang out or beg a lift from them for the last 15-20. It was nice to at least have the option, especially following such a long day yesterday.

They had kept me up past my bedtime though ☺️, so I put my head back down after the 4:30 train went through and didn’t get up until the alarm at 5:30. I pulled myself together in the gently brightening morning, and was on my way at 7.

The stretch of road out of Oscoda is on the lake, and motels, resorts, and charming lakefront cabins abound. Some chose rustic themes, some cottage, and one eye-catching place chose “tiki.”

And again with the sweet lakefront roadside parks.

As I was loving on Lake Huron, a bunch of its local residents decided to go for a paddle.

I was leaving the park when a guy came running over from one of those Mercedes Sprinter (or similar) vans I’ve seen so many of on the road; I’d seen the van pull up, but no one had gotten out. He wanted to know about the trip, and though I’d lingered too long at the park already, he was endearingly excited and flatteringly impressed (he said I had swagger! I’m pretty sure no one has ever said that about me before in my life!), and we chatted for a few minutes. He was very into the undertaking; he’d done Ironmans (Ironmen?) and the like and understood what Andrew tells me The Atlantic refers grandly to as The Pointless Quest.

In any case, the encounter gave me a boost of confidence, even facing another long day, this one with a headwind out of the south much of the day as I head down the pointer finger to the crook of the thumb for my last day on Lake Huron. I’m not riding the thumb this time around; Joyce and I did the whole shebang when we did Mitten Tour, and I didn’t feel like going into Detroit this time around. (Not because I don’t like Detroit! I just have enough cities to navigate over the next several days without adding another one. I can get around Flint without much doing.) Despite the headwind, I was helped along by the flatness of the day’s riding—a negligible 400+ feet of climbing when all was said and done, which is not really climbing at all.

Passing through Tawas I had some pretty trail, though maintenance was spotty.

Then I was back on Lake Huron Circle Tour/M-23, my companion of the last couple of days when there isn’t trail.

Near the end of the day Googlemaps kicked me onto a gravel trail that I had mixed feelings about riding on—it was slower going, and I was eager to meet up with my friends—but which I had to admit was more picturesque than the alternative.

I landed at the Airbnb at 5, and we set up shop on the front porch with beers. Content to hang there (or at least they were kind enough to defer to my inertia), we ordered dinner for delivery and sat out talking and listening to tunes and watching night fall. Knowing I didn’t have a long day tomorrow (phew!) and digging being with my people, I stayed up late and set the alarm for 7:30 (!!!).