Having not had a vacation in over two years, we made our escape from Indiana just before dawn.
To those who are thinking about restoring a vintage trailer: Beware! It will eat your weekends, vacation time, money, and some of your will to live. The only way to get that will back involves sand, water, goat cheese and wine, all of which revived the flush of life in both of us this weekend.
We arrived at Weko Beach in the cool of the early morning, long before the flip-flopped, sweating masses showed up.
The best part of Weko Beach, in my opinion, is their dogs-allowed policy. The main beach doesn't allow dogs, but there is a side trail that leads to the southern portion of the beach where humans and their drenched fur companions are allowed to stroll and splash in the waves.
For a few hours, we poked around in the sand, looked for good skipping stones, and talked to the few people that walked by with their dogs. We found several small stones with fossilized flotsam and jetsam trapped in them before we walked back to the car to get our picnic lunch.
We parked ourselves on a sandy hill in the shade and dined on baguettes and goat cheese, watermelon, and a few other treasures that may not have been allowed on the beach.
By 1:30, the tide of littering, noisy, inconsiderate humanity had washed onto the beach and they were beginning to encroach on our private paradise. It was time to pack up and go.
On our way out, I noticed several hundred fake yellow-green flower petals strewn in the sand...the vestiges of somebody's nuptials from the previous day, week, or decade. If somebody is going to get married on the beach and knows that they will be littering their festivities all over, wouldn't they at least have the sense to use real petals that will biodegrade in a few days? These horrid plastic things will be turning up years from now.
Aside from the beach garbage, we were full and happy as we headed for an interesting antique shop in the local town of Bridgeman.We were greeted by a very sweet doggie at the door and had a nice chat with the owner. His shop was a pleasant jumble of oddities, including an enormous bear trap...
...geodes, Indian artifacts, tintypes, and this intriguing celestial globe.
Having nothing else on the docket but not wanting to go home just yet, we took the Tabor Hill Winery tour.
These, apparently, are grapes.
And this is where they are fermented.
It was free, short, and not terribly interesting. We ambled along to the Round Barn Winery, which boasted an impressive tasting room.
You can't spit without hitting a Winery in southern Michigan. It is such a lush (pun-intended), herbaceous area that tugs on my heart every time we drive through it. The only things that could lure us back to Indiana were our pugs, who spent the day being babysat by their Grandpa. Next time, the pugs go with us and we may not come back!