Oh Boy! Cheboygan!

Yesterday I went on line to make reservations for a campsite at Cheboygan State Park at the top of Michigan’s mitten in -- where else -- Cheboygan.  We wanted reservations for today (Friday) and Saturday.  No sites were available for both days, but several spots were open one night. Jim and I decided a one-night stay was fine, so I clicked “reserve” and got this message: “Reservations must include a two-night minimum if you reserve a Friday or Saturday.”

Alrighty, then.  I can’t stay two nights and I can’t reserve for one night.  Seems like I’m in a lose-lose situation.

I called the telephone reservation line.  A very nice (this is Michigan after all) woman told me the park was busy this weekend because of a Coast Guard activity, but she could get us in for two nights if we didn't mind moving to a new site the second day.  Works for us!  Nice reservation lady took down all our information, read me their long cancelation policy, told me there’d been a bear sighting, that our credit card went through, what the charges were and that we’d get a confirmation email. Cool!

Late last night I checked my email and there was no confirmation.  Still wasn’t one this morning.  So I called the reservation line.  There was no record of our reservation and one of the sites we (thought) we reserved was gone.  SOL, I thought

But somehow we still got camps site reservations at Cheboygan State Park for tonight and Saturday.  

So -- after all that and a walk, we packed up and left Tawas State Park for Cheboygan via Highway 23, which follows the coast of Lake Huron.  Beautiful.  Pine trees, oaks and maples followed by even more pines and then cedars.  The homes along the way -- many you couldn't see as they were hidden by the woods that line Lake Huron -- had house number signs with the owners name or phrases (Seas the Day, Bedside Manor, Muah HaHa).  Other signs were in shapes that I'm assuming had meaning to the the owners (dogs, a pharmacy RX symbol, fish). 

And right now we’re at small, very woodsy Cheboygan State Park where it thundered and then rained hard.  

Also:  Today is the second anniversary of our RV adventure.  We left Salt Lake City on  August 2, 2011, four days after we both retired.  To read a recap of our first year, click here. I’m hoping  to write the same about year number two.  Preview:  Favorite campground -- Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument in Ajo, AZ.

One more thing:  Next time I make a reservation over the phone I will ask for a confirmation number.

A view of Lake Huron at one of the several roadside rest areas along Michigan's Highway 23.  With the exception of about four miles, we were on Highway 23 the entire drive to Cheboygan State Park.

It wasn't always this empty ... but Highway 23 was not a busy road.

View out the back of our rig at Cheboygan State Park.  That's Lake Huron in the back.  The town of Cheboygan only has a population of  4,876 per the 2010 census (says Wikipedia), and it's one of the larger towns in the upper part of the mitten.

Our campsite at Cheboygan State Park.  The precise meaning of the word "Cheboygan" is no longer known but is probably of Objibwe Native American origin.

Jim walking down the Cheboygan State Park main road.  Kind of looks like Highway 23.