Monday, August 2, 2010

Day 3: Naubinway, MI to Minneapolis, MN

A test run of the new Starbucks Instant Coffee gave us the energy to depart Hog's Back Island at about 8:00a.m. CST in search of "The Big Spring."  It took about 45 min. to reach this state park, which is adjacent to Indian Lake about midway across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  The crystal clear spring is about 45 feet deep and 300 feet wide.  Guests ride a self-steered, wooden raft to the middle of the pool and look through the center to see fissures in the limestone bottom that spew 10,000 gallons of water per minute into the spring.  The water pressure makes white sand dance and swirl on the rocky bottom.  Not the least bit cloudy or murky, the effect was quite dazzling.  Unfortunately, our photographer on duty (who shall remain nameless) failed to recharge the batteries in his camera.  So we have only the photos in our minds to share with you!

The rest of our third day was uneventful.  We drove for another 8 hours, leaving Greg's new "favorite state" of Michigan and crossing westward through Wisconsin on Rte. 8.  Boondocks... that pretty much sums it up.  If you are a fisherman or hunter, this would be a wooded or lake-speckled paradise.  We did appreciate the smooth, ribbon-candy roads, though there was not much civilization to speak of.  I did see a family of pheasants with the most adorable babies.  (Being the only eye witness, I can't be certain they were pheasants.  Perhaps quail?  I'm not an expert on such matters:)  Ron and Greg spied two bald eagles and loads of deer while driving & navigating.  Best of all, I caught a nice glimpse of a large, tan coyote on a grassy hillside.  Other than these wildlife sightings, the ride was pretty bland.  We arrived at Minnesota's Twin Cities of Minneapolis & St. Paul in the evening and checked into another not-so-hot KOA Campground.  A spotty wireless signal forced me to catch up on email & this blog at a dark picnic table outside the campground office.  Meanwhile, Ron had to borrow an extension hose from a KOA worker who called himself "Ding Dong."  A little late night television would have lessened the pain, but alas, no cable.  Boo hoo.

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