Travel Blog

I got to drive most of the way through Michigan yesterday. Except for a minor bout of road rage (that Phil’s dad got
to experience since he was on the phone with Phil at the time) over a driver who pulled out in front of me and
proceeded to drive under the speed limit, it was a nice, easy drive. The fall colors are beautiful, and the lakes are
gorgeous.
Rest stop at Deer Lake, MI:


Deer Lake, I presume:


To get to where we are now, we had to drive over a 6-mile long bridge. Actually, I could be wrong about the 6-mile
part. It didn’t seem that long. Now, I’m not fond of driving over bridges, but as far as bridges go, it wasn’t too scary.

Except when I went to pass a big rig that had to go 20 mph (I wasn’t mad at him; he really did have to go 20 mph)
and the left lane was that stupid grate stuff. That stuff gives me the willies.
Mackinaw bridge:


Mackinaw bridge and Lake Huron:

We’re in Mackinaw City now, getting ready to hit the road soon. We’re at the Tee Pee RV Park. We first went Mill
Creek Campground because they advertise in Workampernews for jobs, and we were thinking this would be a nice
place to work some year. I’m glad we stopped. Neither Phil nor I were impressed with the place. We were so
under-impressed, in fact, that we left there and came to where we are now.

We’re shooting for somewhere near Finley, Ohio, tonight. We’ll see what happens. We’ve had no luck finding an
RV park that’s still open anywhere where we want to be in Ohio. But that’s part of the adventure.

Now, about my title. What comes to mind when you see “pasties.” Yeah, me too (folks from Michigan, you don’t
count). So we were seeing signs for pasties all through Michigan. And we giggled every time. I mean, I knew they
weren’t what I think of. I knew they were some kind of baked good, but it’s just so funny to see all these signs for
pasties, especially when they’re combined with other goods, like “live bait and pasties” or “ammo, beer and
pasties.” And then we saw a sign for “Grandma’s Pasties” and we just lost it. And whereas we didn’t get a picture
of Grandma’s pasties, I’ll leave you with an equally disturbing pasties imagery-evoking sign:


And for the record, we were told they are pronounced PASS-TEES, not PASTE-EES like Phil and I were calling
them. But that’s just not as funny.