First stop was Bridgeman, Michigan where there is a lovely place I highly recommend, Weko Beach Campground. Weko rests along the duney shores of Lake Michigan in blueberry picking country. The only issue with Weko is that campsites are first-come, first serve. I forgot about that. Though, of course, they had a site for us.Stafford and his lucky star. Why do I ever worry? In the evening, they have live music and people gather to sit on the beach until sunset. This gathering on the beach is a highlight of Bridgeman, in addition to its soft sugary sand and endless gorgeous shoreline. I can't believe I grew up never knowing about the beaches along the western shoreline of Michigan, but I'm glad to know now.
It poured that night, but my husband and I did our usual sleep of the dead. It's something about that little trailer, dark and cozy. We have a tiny bed, perfect for snuggling, and somehow we never get awakened by torrential storms.
Next stop, the Canadian border, where immigration agents check passports and question your reasons for being there...
A woman directing traffic told us to go in the "car" lane even though we had a truck and RV trailer. But the truck lane was shorter, so my Stafford decided that we really were a truck, so why not go in the truck lane? Unfortunately, this seemed to arouse suspicion with the agent because not only did he ask us 3 times if we had firearms, he made us park and go into the immigration office for background checks. I did a quick flick through my Rolodex (dating myself) of memories. Thankfully, I could think of no felonies or even misdemeanors. I could not speak for my husband but figured it was too late now.
A group of three young agents came out to inspect our vehicles, probably for firearms, and then seemed to get distracted by our dogs. "Where did we get them? Do they shed a lot? Can we pet them?" They even said we could take them in the office if it was too hot for them in the truck. (Canadians are so nice!) Deciding they were fine with all the windows open and three agents to keep them company, we went inside the office, handed over our passports, "yellow form," and waited while our eyes glazed over in the very sterile white room. Finally, my husband asked one agents if anything was happening because it kinda seemed like nothing was happening. She pointed to another woman at a desk, saying she probably had a stack of passports ahead of ours and was doing checks on all of them. There were just 2 other people in the office ahead of us. After a few more minutes, she must have realized we probably weren't criminals, and took it upon herself to do our background checks- voila, we were done!
A group of three young agents came out to inspect our vehicles, probably for firearms, and then seemed to get distracted by our dogs. "Where did we get them? Do they shed a lot? Can we pet them?" They even said we could take them in the office if it was too hot for them in the truck. (Canadians are so nice!) Deciding they were fine with all the windows open and three agents to keep them company, we went inside the office, handed over our passports, "yellow form," and waited while our eyes glazed over in the very sterile white room. Finally, my husband asked one agents if anything was happening because it kinda seemed like nothing was happening. She pointed to another woman at a desk, saying she probably had a stack of passports ahead of ours and was doing checks on all of them. There were just 2 other people in the office ahead of us. After a few more minutes, she must have realized we probably weren't criminals, and took it upon herself to do our background checks- voila, we were done!
Free at last, we headed out to the Canadian countryside, where there is a noticeable lack of billboard advertising. It gave me a peaceful, old-timey feeling, a memory of long road trips with my family when there wasn't as much to look at along the interstate.
We finally found a campground that was eerily like the one we stayed at in a small city called Conneaut, Ohio. Just a big pond in the middle with many "trouses," or trailers with additions that make them look more houses. People zoomed around on golf carts and a few kids played on the playground. It was kind of a sad little place, maybe that was partly due to the cool and overcast weather, but the people were very friendly. In fact, this was a theme we noticed in Canada - courtesy and an easy-going attitude everywhere we stopped.
I learned what a panzerotti is - it's like a fried calzone. The waitress at Alberta's restaurant in wherever we were in Canada was shocked that I didn't know what a panzerotti was. That's all I have to report about that stop. Oh, and 2017 is Canada's 150th birthday.
Two more stops in Canada, London and Sarnia, both in Ontario.
We drove through London, which reminded me of the east side of Milwaukee, with very affluent homes and average or student-housing looking homes. Western University is located there, so it also had that college town feel that I love. Lots of great restaurants, diversity, theaters, bookstores, and all the rest. On the main street signs it said "London Pride" with rainbow pride colors. I felt emotional and hopeful that places like this exist.
While searching for a Chipotle, we found ourselves driving down a narrow busy college street with our giant truck and RV trailer, always a dicey situation. My job was to dash out as soon as my husband found a parking place, and run back as fast as I could, so that we wouldn't get beaten up or screamed at for taking up two parking spots with our rig. Then again, this was Canada. People probably would have nicely asked my husband if he could kindly move up, just a little.
Somewhere near London we camped, though I couldn't tell you the name of it. My husband put it well when he said, "Baby, all these places look alike to me." It's true that most of the campgrounds around Ontario blended together, but that's no fault of theirs. I'm sure they are unique with their own special features. We were simply tired of road-tripping along the endless countryside with no billboards to interrupt the landscape. Fortunately, I had brought several audio books. We laughed through Tina Fey's autobiography and were inspired by Chip and Joanna Gaines new book, The Magnolia Story.
But still, we had talked to no one about living in Canada. We kept forgetting to ask, or it just wasn't the right situation. Not like you can just get in a stranger's face and ask them how they like living in Canada (when they obviously do, or they wouldn't be there) without appearing crazy.
Between the cool and dreary weather, our dogs' loud barking when left alone in the trailer, and one dog's torn ACL, we decided before even getting to Toronto that we would just head back home. Doggies couldn't stay calm long enough alone in the trailer to allow us to tour Toronto, so we may as well just turn back around.
Our last stop before crossing the border back into Michigan was Sarnia, a charming port town on Lake Huron. We stopped to take doggies on a walk through a park, where we noticed lots of people walking, running, and biking. The town felt vibrant with outdoor activity. As we approached our last toll, we saw a duty-free store. We stopped and took turns in the store searching for t-shirts or any other memorabilia. Two minutes from the border crossing, and we still had not talked to anyone about living in Canada.
I stopped at the cafe on my way out to order a latte, took the risk of appearing crazy, and asked the barista how she liked living in Canada.
She couldn't have been more generous with her time and conversation. She said she loved it, had grown up in Montreal. I asked her about healthcare, and she readily opened up about her own cancer, how her $2400 monthly injections cost her just $2000 the entire year. Also, all of her surgeries related to her cancer cost her $0. "What about weather- were winters freezing and do you get tons of snow?" I asked. No, they are in the "banana belt," which has weather similar to the Carolinas (as in North and South). She didn't bring out her shovel once last year.
She further added that she didn't know where her house key was, never locked her house. The biggest difference she saw between Canadians and Americans is that Canadians are not afraid. I almost started to debate that point with her, but then I thought, "She's right, I lock every window and door, even in my small neighborhood that dead-ends against a lake, where we all know each other." Her shoulders immediately relax as soon as she crosses the border back into Canada. I heard another Canadian say those exact words.
Well, we didn't exactly interview a bunch of people as we had planned. But it was interesting to hear even one person's perspective.
Next and last stop, Grand Haven, Michigan. By this time, the weather had cleared up and was back to hot and sunny, a typical Midwestern summer. Once again, do I need to say it? That's right, we had 3 nights at Grand Haven State Park located exactly on the beach with- wait for it- NO CALLING AHEAD OF TIME. I swear this would not happen if it was just me driving. It has to be Stafford and his lucky star arrangement, or however an astrologist friend describes it.
We drove through London, which reminded me of the east side of Milwaukee, with very affluent homes and average or student-housing looking homes. Western University is located there, so it also had that college town feel that I love. Lots of great restaurants, diversity, theaters, bookstores, and all the rest. On the main street signs it said "London Pride" with rainbow pride colors. I felt emotional and hopeful that places like this exist.
While searching for a Chipotle, we found ourselves driving down a narrow busy college street with our giant truck and RV trailer, always a dicey situation. My job was to dash out as soon as my husband found a parking place, and run back as fast as I could, so that we wouldn't get beaten up or screamed at for taking up two parking spots with our rig. Then again, this was Canada. People probably would have nicely asked my husband if he could kindly move up, just a little.
Somewhere near London we camped, though I couldn't tell you the name of it. My husband put it well when he said, "Baby, all these places look alike to me." It's true that most of the campgrounds around Ontario blended together, but that's no fault of theirs. I'm sure they are unique with their own special features. We were simply tired of road-tripping along the endless countryside with no billboards to interrupt the landscape. Fortunately, I had brought several audio books. We laughed through Tina Fey's autobiography and were inspired by Chip and Joanna Gaines new book, The Magnolia Story.
But still, we had talked to no one about living in Canada. We kept forgetting to ask, or it just wasn't the right situation. Not like you can just get in a stranger's face and ask them how they like living in Canada (when they obviously do, or they wouldn't be there) without appearing crazy.
Between the cool and dreary weather, our dogs' loud barking when left alone in the trailer, and one dog's torn ACL, we decided before even getting to Toronto that we would just head back home. Doggies couldn't stay calm long enough alone in the trailer to allow us to tour Toronto, so we may as well just turn back around.
Our last stop before crossing the border back into Michigan was Sarnia, a charming port town on Lake Huron. We stopped to take doggies on a walk through a park, where we noticed lots of people walking, running, and biking. The town felt vibrant with outdoor activity. As we approached our last toll, we saw a duty-free store. We stopped and took turns in the store searching for t-shirts or any other memorabilia. Two minutes from the border crossing, and we still had not talked to anyone about living in Canada.
I stopped at the cafe on my way out to order a latte, took the risk of appearing crazy, and asked the barista how she liked living in Canada.
She couldn't have been more generous with her time and conversation. She said she loved it, had grown up in Montreal. I asked her about healthcare, and she readily opened up about her own cancer, how her $2400 monthly injections cost her just $2000 the entire year. Also, all of her surgeries related to her cancer cost her $0. "What about weather- were winters freezing and do you get tons of snow?" I asked. No, they are in the "banana belt," which has weather similar to the Carolinas (as in North and South). She didn't bring out her shovel once last year.
She further added that she didn't know where her house key was, never locked her house. The biggest difference she saw between Canadians and Americans is that Canadians are not afraid. I almost started to debate that point with her, but then I thought, "She's right, I lock every window and door, even in my small neighborhood that dead-ends against a lake, where we all know each other." Her shoulders immediately relax as soon as she crosses the border back into Canada. I heard another Canadian say those exact words.
Well, we didn't exactly interview a bunch of people as we had planned. But it was interesting to hear even one person's perspective.
Next and last stop, Grand Haven, Michigan. By this time, the weather had cleared up and was back to hot and sunny, a typical Midwestern summer. Once again, do I need to say it? That's right, we had 3 nights at Grand Haven State Park located exactly on the beach with- wait for it- NO CALLING AHEAD OF TIME. I swear this would not happen if it was just me driving. It has to be Stafford and his lucky star arrangement, or however an astrologist friend describes it.
Grand Haven is not for people who want rustic camping. You are basically camping in a parking lot. But if you are a "glamper" like me, who likes good restaurants, cute boutiques, bike paths, river walks, and clean showers, and a typical sugary sand Michigan beach, then this may be the place for you.
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| Baccia, watching the crowd calmly because mommy and daddy are in the trailer with him. The minute we try to leave, endless barking begins. He has amazing stamina and volume. |
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| Charming Grand Haven |
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| This is the site we found- exactly on the edge of the beach. No reservation required when traveling with Stafford. His lucky star follows us everywhere. |
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| A room with a view |
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| Not exactly rustic camping, but it's perfect if you want the beach and the city within walking distance. |