One problem with state recreation areas is reflected by their name. If you’re there to DO something, they’re great for that. But even though they are often quite pretty, there isn’t so much to SEE (as compared to a state park). Thus it is with the Portage Lake campground at Waterloo. I’m not here to swim or boat or fish. I’m here because there isn’t a state PARK in the area. So after making camp and seeing what there was to see, I got on the scooter and DID.

The first order of business was supper. It seems the most-recommended restaurants around here really are all bars. At least they’re bars too. Tonight it was the Village Inn in the village of Grass Lake, which is in the direction that I wasn’t looking, didn’t look like much (such as not even having the name out front) when I got there, but it had good local recommendations online. It’s bar food, but good bar food, including (tonight) something that was not deep-fried.

Afterward I just rode. Riding out the daylight, really. I headed west almost to Jackson, then took the road that follows I-94 back east, coming back to Portage Lake from the other direction as I’d come this afternoon.

There was still some daylight left so I went for a walk along a nature trail with an annoying number of mosquitoes (which will still swarm and still fly into your mouth, even if you’re wearing repellent), and a twilight look at the lake. Sitting still outside invites too many mosquitoes, so as darkness falls I have retreated to my tent.

I like my tent a lot. It weighs almost nothing and packs into a tiny space. My pillows are bulkier. It’s easy to set up; you can get by with the two collapsing poles and three stakes if you have to (but using all 7 is more secure). It has kept me dry thru torrential rains on Isle Royale, where there simply Are No Motels you can go to if your tent fails you. It doesn’t hold warmth very well, but that’s a sleeping bag’s job, so that’s OK. The one thing I don’t like about it is that it’s impossible to sit up straight in it. If you sit in just the right spot, you still have to bend your head down a little to keep from pushing at the roof. The tight space is adequate for sleeping, but kinda sucks when you’re awake and using it as a mosquito shelter. Like now.

“At Waterloo, Napoleon did surrender,” are the opening lyrics of ABBA’s hit single “Waterloo”, so that even listeners who slept through History class will understand what the central metaphor of the song is.

Waterloo is also the name of a state recreation area northeast of Jackson, Michigan. It is where I am camping tonight, in the Portage Lake unit. Like Fort Custer last night, it’s far from capacity, which I suppose is to be expected on a weekday. It’s a shame, because even with abysmal fuel economy of these apartments on wheels that most “campers” use, it’s a pretty inexpensive vacation, especially this close to…pretty much every major city in the state. Their loss. I reserved a site far from the beach, figuring it would be quieter; the sites near the beach are mostly taken, however.

The detour thru Irish Hills was pleasant enough. Not exactly “scenic” but enough trees and turns to make it more enjoyable than straightlining between cornfields and the occasional crowd of beef. The lakes I saw were mostly of the surrounded-by-cottages/homes variety: more likely to be appreciated by tourists staying at lakeside hotels to go boating than by me.

I’ve stopped at Cascarelli’s of Albion (no, not classical England) for lunch. I stopped near it on the main street thru town, checked the Urban Spoon app for pointers to eateries, and saw it had 81% approval rating. It’s as much bar as restaurant, but I ordered iced tea. 🙂 and their specialty chicken sandwich.

I’ve covered about 40 miles since I got underway around 9 this morning. Not exactly speedy, but that’s never been the point. :). I’m planning to take the scenic route from here rather than going directly to tonight’s campground. The “Irish Hills” area to the south is supposed to be one of the more scenic parts of this part of the state, so I’m steering that way first.

Am I the only one who imagines Gandalf the Grey standing next to each of these that he… passes? (Not that I imagine myself as a Balrog, of course. I’m not crazy.)

A nice older guy in a truck saw me stopped by the road after taking this photo and wanted to know if I needed help. There are good people in the world. 🙂 Either that or it was Gandalf in disguise.

I breezed thru Battle Creek (not much to see there, I’m afraid), but paused in Marshall, which has the quaint Main Street with more shops than vacancies going for it. I passed on the Calhoun County Fair, however. Just not a farmer at heart. Nice little park nearby though.

I slept well enough last night… for a person who normally rolls around in his sleep stuck in a small tent. Bizarre dreams about staying at a Japanese spa and riding in a two-person vehicle that either one could operate, with someone I haven’t seen in years. Cooler than I expected, but I was warm enough in my bag. It’s stopped raining and the sky is clear, but I’m still hearing dripping from the trees overhead: the down side of reserving a “shady” camp site.