Day 2 -- Sleeping Bear Dunes

Clare’s new nickname is The Oracle. 

Natalie calls her The Weather Whisperer.

At 5:00 a.m., the wind picked up and thunder rumbled in the distance. Keith and I scrambled out of the Teardrop to cover up the camp chairs. But we didn’t have to worry about the tents, because the kids were already sealed up tight inside. 

The light rain came a few minutes later and lasted less than 60 minutes. Nothing too terrible, but without the rain flies, the kids would have been soaked. We all went back to sleep for three more hours and woke up to beautiful blue skies and a pleasant breeze. This campground is so tranquil, and the sites so private that all was perfectly quiet and calm, even at 9 a.m.

After a pancake and bacon breakfast, we ventured out of the campground to explore other corners of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.

Not far down the road, we saw what appeared to be a huge orange ski hill. As we got closer, we realized it was actually a 1,000-foot tall sand dune, and that the tiny specks we saw moving across the broad expanse were human-sized people trudging up and down the mountain. We pulled into the parking lot, slid off our sandals and joined the folks in the sand. 

About 20 minutes later, we crested the hill, sweaty and huffing with effort, expecting to see before us a long gentle slope leading straight down into Lake Michigan. Instead, we saw only another dune. And when we got to the top of that next one, there was another dune beyond it, each one a single swell in an undulating sea of sand.

True to form, Charlie tried to show off by racing up the hill, only to poop out when he got to the crest of the first dune. He did not join us beyond that. It is reminiscent of our hike in Glacier NP in 2018. 

We spent the next hour or so slogging up and down the dunes in search of a sweeping view of the lake below us. Finally, at the top of one hill, a hiker headed in the opposite direction noticed our crestfallen faces and explained that there are numbers posted along the way counting up until they reach the water’s edge, at Post 27. 

Great! We thought. That gives us a nice gauge. We must be at, what? Like, 23? We looked at the nearest sign post – the only one we could see in either direction. It was Number 2. We trudged a while longer and made it as far as Post 3 before we turned around to head back to the car.

The dunes are covered with wild Baby's Breath, which perfumes the air with a thick, powdery scent. The ranger told me it's actually an invasive species and they're trying to eradicate it. It looks like that's a losing battle.

 Farther down the road, we rented kayaks from an outfitter near Empire, Mich., and spent the afternoon floating down the Platte River. What started out as a peaceful outing eventually turned a little raucous as we overtook party barges composed of tubes, inflatable rafts, pool floaties and coolers lashed together and piled with families, and dogs, and co-eds brandishing bottles of booze.

We kept our distance the best we could.

Back at the campsite, we cooled off with a dip in Lake Michigan before dinner. 

Kielbasa, potatoes, green beans and cajun seasoning. The easiest and most wonderful campfire dinner ever.

The Oracle – I mean, Clare – spent the afternoon warning us of thunderstorms coming after midnight and continuing through the day tomorrow. I keep hoping that she’s wrong, but she’s usually not.

So, we  packed up as much as possible tonight. Tomorrow, in the rain, we’ll just have to take the tents down and pack all the gear into the Teardrop before heading out. I’ve checked the weather forecast, too, and it looks like we will not be able to avoid a very soggy day tomorrow. Wish us luck.