HMS Beangle

When I return to a region so full of family and friends, not a lot of pictures get taken. Sorry, but it’s always been this way. For nearly three weeks, we barely saw the inside of the HMS Beangle, as we curled up in the homes of others.

Running water? Right there.
Heat? Turned on.
Hot coffee, hot tea, hot delicious meals? They regularly arrived with little to no effort on our part.

It was remarkably nice, not gonna lie. We found ourselves missing the trailer more than we expected though, which was a nice realization. We followed the Grand River in reverse, working our way from Lake Michigan.

After arriving downstate, we were thrilled to see Linda and Gary again after many, many years. We grabbed dinner at a local Mexican place which had normal and large margaritas as big as a baby’s head. You can guess the size that Gary and Jeff ordered. Since retiring, they’ve kayaked down the entire Mississippi River, the entire Missouri river, as well as many other kayaking and cycling trips since then. They often camped along the way, fund-raising for Water for People‘s clean water initiatives. (Please donate something, if you can. Safe, plentiful clean water isn’t a luxury, even if our politicians act like it is.) It did our hearts good to talk with them about the inconveniences and uncomfortable moments they encountered during those months-long trips. They sent us off the next morning with probably the best frittata I’ve ever eaten and some gluten and dairy-free granola that I’m still portioning out like the chunky gold it is.

We got lucky and had a chance to see nearly ALL of Jeff’s and my family members. That almost never happens. Granted, we had to chase down my sister at work, but ya do what ya gotta do. Three generations packed into Jeff’s sister’s house. Breakfast called my brother to the western suburbs. And we even pulled the trailer over to Jeff’s parents’ place so that they could see it and to his nephew’s house so we could cuddle the one-eyed pirate cat.

We camped one evening in Georgetown, on the Grand River, and you would have thought this campground was protecting the nation’s plutonium reserves. There is a gate to enter the campground, a license plate reader that activates the gate, a per person fee for visitors, and (we found out later) a requirement that you pre-register all visitors. My friend Sherry and her husband Rob came to collect us for dinner that evening and she had to make a case on the after-hours number for getting their vehicle past the gate after hours. It all felt rather excessive, to be honest. But if anyone was going to get past that gate after hours and without pre-registration, it was Sherry.

Pam, who met up with us in Colorado in May with the beautiful Airstream, invited several of Jeff’s former coworkers to meet up with us for lunch at one of their old favorite lunch haunts. It was so nice to see them all and lovely for them all to make time for us.

After lunch, we followed Pam back home and stayed with her and Bob for several days. And Pam’s niece and nephew-in-law (if there is such a title), as it’s bow hunting season. J&T woke up at unreasonable times, tiptoed out of the house, and sat in a little covered stand down in the valley for hours on end. And then, after a few hours’ nap, they did it again. My guess is that it helps to be relative newlyweds for the level of near cuddling required. I can only imagine their thoughts when they heard that two absolute strangers were going to be sharing their weekend get-a-way with family. Both were very friendly and welcoming, though, so I’m going to believe they didn’t mind. Since their freezer still has some of last year’s venison, they said their goals were larger bucks and/or a turkey. You can imagine the surprise (and laughter) when 19 turkeys casually walked past the front of the house–with J&T sitting down just a 5 minute walk away!

After taking a nice walk on Sunday, Pam pulled out her impressive cooking skills and made the most incredible venison black bean bowls. I enjoy venison in general, but she made a marinade that took these steaks to a new level. It was yummy hot. It was yummy cold. It smelled delicious and looked even better. I’m drooling just thinking of it.

We found some impressive contestants for Death or Dine, but this puff ball, with its skull-like cap, feels appropriate for this time of year. A quick internet search into its edible-ness doesn’t lean toward safety. It’s got discolorations, blemishes, and rough patches. All warning signs. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

While Pam and I cruised for groceries, Jeff and Bob got back out in the river for a spot of fishing.

Throw in evening fires where the living room’s wood burner glowed scarlet, where we read for hours on end, where football and baseball played out, and where we all quoted the five hour BBC version of Pride and Prejudice by heart, and it was hard to leave that little piece of heaven. But back on the road we are.

Wouldn’t you know it though, I left the book I was reading at my mom’s house and 2 pounds of ground venison, gifted to me from Bob’s hallowed vaults, in the freezer the morning we left! This colander brain of mine. Oh, and Bob texted to let us know that we forgot their would (not) like to be adventure cat, Kitty, a stray that they’ve had for 14 years. I don’t see her getting harness trained any time soon.