Grand Haven, Michigan

It was 2am last night, as opposed to 6am the night before, when the rains came. The rains don't just come, they bombard. The rain comes in on big bomber boots (as opposed to little cat feet) and bombards you with an onslaught so loud and fierce that it wakes the neighbors. Rat-a-tat-tat, swoosh, swirl. Ping, pang, thud. Just when you think the deluge couldn't possibly continue at such a torrid pace, it quickens. At a pace so frenetic that you think the sky may just fall afterall.

I slept on a boat the past two nights, in Grand Haven, Michigan. I figured the cops couldn't find me there. Now all I need is a pony.

The 75 mile ride from Ludington turned into a smooth 102, with various detours, closed roads, wrong turns, longer (but scenic!) lakeshore drives, and untravelable (that's a word, right? Right.) interstates. I rolled into Grand Haven at a quarter past 9, under cover of darkness.

There I met Jim and Shawn, and their son Matt. Actually Shawn had gone out to look for me, concerned that it was dark. So Jim offered me a beer and pizza. Mmmm, pizza. and beeeeer. As Homer would say - arrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmgh. The fact that the beer was Labatts made it even better - you don't find Labatts much out West.

I had almost stopped for food because I was absolutely starving (I've heard the term 'boinking' used by a fellow cyclist, which is apparently when your blood sugar becomes very low. I'll stick to starving, thanks.) -- but I knew I was racing the darkness, so I kept going.
Still starving, barely standing. Followed by back to back episodes of King of Queens and Yes Dear - it's CBS's all-star Monday night lineup!

We talked for awhile, it was great to finally meet face-to-face, we had been corresponding by e-mail for so long. It was late, and Jim, Shawn and Matt eventually headed back home - they live 40 miles away in Grand Rapids. I was tired after the ride so I just took a shower and went to bed. Bed was on their boat. I know very little about boats but I'd say it was a speedboat.
There are two types of boats in my book - speedboats and sailboats. This was a speedboat.

There is an area in the front of the boat where you can sleep. It is enclosed, with just a little trap-door for air. The ceiling - I suppose you'd call it that - is less than a foot from your face.
It's cozy. I had the trap-door open for air until the rains came, at which point I quickly closed it. Then a steady drip began from the seam of the trap door. I intercepted the drip with a strategically placed towel, draped over my sleeping bag where the drip was scheduled to appear.
Between the loud and steady pelting of the rain, the movement of the boat, the drips, the bleeps, the sweeps, and the creeps (Spaceballs, anyone?), the slightly uneasy feeling of floating on water -- what if the floor gives way and I sink to the bottom, or the rope comes undone and I float out to sea?!?!? -- the sticky humidity, and the concern that my poor bike (which was chained up to a lamp-post on the dock) was going to succumb to the rains and eventually drown, or be stolen - sleep was hard to come by.

Enter Ron and Bruce, stage right. I met Ron and Bruce after a fantastic pizza dinner last night that Jim and Shawn graciously treated me to. Their fishing boat was docked next to Jim and Shawn's boat. I talked with them for awhile, about fishing (fishing has been good recently because the East winds blew the warmer water over towards Wisconsin, so the fish had to come up closer to the surface to stay warm - or so i was told) and hunting (Ron had won a lottery for a coveted Elk hunting permit in Michigan, apparently the odds are 1 in 25,000 so he was very lucky. The only problem for him was that he won the lottery for Cow - female Elk - hunting. Within the first 30 minutes of hunting he saw a humongous Bull - male Elk - but couldn't shoot it because he only had a Cow permit. Poor Ron.) and shared stories of flooded campsites.

These affable characters eventually headed down to Tip-a-Fews bar, to tip a few back. I politely declined (I am learning!), it was already almost 11 and I was tired, wary of the impending and seemingly inevitable storms.
Well, I woke up at 3am to music, country music - Waaaay down yonder on the Chatahoochie! What the hell? Is that music? In the pouring rain? Ron? Bruce? What in sam hell are you doing? It was pouring rain so I didn't bother to go see what all the hubbab was about. I just laid there and decided that Ron and Bruce had tipped way more than a few back, continuing the party well into the night.
Now that I think about it, I had asked them what time they were headed out in the morning - assumingly it was super early as fisherman do - and they said 'well, it depends how drunk we get tonight!' -- ok then! That explains it. That also explains how when I left around 7:30am this morning, there was absolutely no movement or signs of life from their boat. Excellent Smithers.

Anyway, my time in Grand Haven has been wonderful. It's a fun little lakeshore town on the shores of Lake Michigan, I spent yesterday in coffee shops and sidewalk cafes, found a $3 movie theatre and then the beach and boardwalk. I took a quick dip in Lake Michigan, but the water was cold enough that laying on a beach towel with toes wiggled in the sand absorbing warm sun sounded better. If only I had my iPod, to complete the loveliness... boo hoo :( It warmed up to be a great and sunny day yesterday, in between onslaughts of rain. We took the boat out last night and zipped around Lake Michigan. Speedboats are good, speedboats are goooood!

Jim had a work friend in town from China, so he accompanied us last night as well. He's in the USA working for six months, and was comparing life in the US to life in China. Very interesting. Over dinner we were talking about the ongoing enmity between China and Japan.
Long story short - they do not like each other at all. In fact, Kurt - Jim's friend - goes so far as to not by Japanese products whenever possible. Which explains his Kodak camera.
10 points for Rochester, NY!

One time his wife bought him a Casio watch, which he promptly threw in the garbage. He actually threw it away! I can't imagine disliking a nation that much that I'd throw away a gift from my wife because it was manufactured there. But then again, I'm just an innocent white-boy who has never really been exposed to true suffering, or torture, or any of the various historical and ongoing atrocities committed against the human race. I know they exist, but cannot possibly imagine the horror. Human beings have been so cruel and unusually harsh to each other for so long... why is that? Is it good versus evil, or is it more complex than that? Seems like it's some combination of King of the Mountain and Lord of the Flies, where the desire to conquer and be #1 meets the degradation of civility into outright savagery. Scary. Sucks to your ass-mar Piggie-

Anyway, on a completely unrelated note - Starbucks, those blasted corporate symbols of all that is soulless and wrong -- a la Bill Lumberg! -- have subtilely infiltrated the mom and pop coffee shops. They are insidious. Their continuous question of the day - 'room for cream?' has become a mainstay even in the coolest of independent coffee shops.
I think the question 'room for cream?' was some big-wig brainstorm in a boardroom at Starbucks headquarters, who did the math and figured out that if they only fill the cups 3/4 full, that they'd save millions of dollars annually in coffee costs, under the guise of friendliness and customer service -- hey, I'm doing YOU a favor by leaving you room for cream so your cup doesn't runneth over! Rrrrright.
I'm onto them, and shame on all other coffee shops for asking this question.
Just fill it 7/8 full and we'll take it from there.

Do I want Dark Roast, Light Roast, Colombian Blend, Hazelnut, Decaf, Fantastic French, Triple Toe Loop Tahitian? Perhaps a flavor squirt of Pugnacious Purple or Outrageous Orange?
No man, I just want coffee. Regular old coffee. Do you have that?

And, these paper cups that they're filling 3/4 full - they all have leaky seams that nobody seems (seams, seems - english is tough) to care about. It's either a design flaw or manufacturing defect, but aren't seams supposed to act as though they're seamless, meaning liquid cannot get through? I guess not. My experience has been that the coffee leaks out the very top of the cup where the seam is, when the cup is tipped the wrong way and filled too high. Can't the paper cup engineers figure that one out? Or perhaps it's Solo that has their state-of-the-art tops wrong? Enquiring minds wanna know. All I know is that I end up with drips of coffee down my hand and onto my pants and I'd rather not.

Ok, focus people focus! Sorry. I want to thank Jim and Shawn for being the coolest people this side of the Mississippi. Shawn printed out maps and directions for me across the entire state of Michigan, taking me along cycler-friendly roads and to scenic destinations. I'm headed to Grand Rapids today, and then north of Lansing tomorrow.

Hear's a gem I learned from the gas station attendant the other day:

Did you know that the name Jason is an abbreviation for July, August, September, October, November? Just in case you forget the order of the months. Hmm, I didn't know that!
My nephew is named Jason so I'm sure he'll find that very useful as he learns the months. I suppose he'll need to learn his ABC's first, and how to walk, and all that.
I should've asked if she had any tips on that. I'm afraid to ask.