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And then there are the days that start out raining. With the forecast calling for more rain.

Days like this have nothing to do with Swedish pancakes. I mean, the die is already cast . . .

Thus it was this morning.

So as we looked out the window of our hotel room onto the pitter patter in the puddles we agreed that we would find a coffee shop, hole up, and wait it out. The forecast looked like it might be better for a few hours in the middle of the day. If we rode hard maybe we could make our next destination without too much carnage. And, sadly, we agreed that we would dispense with our camping plan as well – just too dreary to contemplate setting up our tent, cooking and then taking down camp in the continuing deluge.

Dejected, we set up the bikes for the day – putting our full rain gear on just to go the two blocks to the nearest coffee shop. The U.P. version of the Cat in the Hat in our heads:

It was too wet to ride,

so we swallowed our pride,

and sat in the cafe, with a muffin on the side!

But then something wonderful happened. As we moped our way out the door and started on our way, we realized that the rain had let up a little. “Well, we might as well try to sneak to the next town,” we agreed.

And this is where I’ll interject. Because the rest of the day was pretty fantastic. But it wouldn’t have happened except for one small thing – because even then it was still raining enough that we had to put our absconded plastic bags on. The thing is, we had a destination in mind – Toronto – and an itinerary to keep. And if we hadn’t had those things we would have done what all upstanding rational adults would have done with a day like this – that is, sit in the coffee shop and play dominoes, or maybe solitaire. We would have checked our email. Posted about the rain. Or, put another way, we would have had a forgettable day lost in Starbucks World. (Or at least I would have. Truth is, Diana might have been deterred a few minutes, but she is too iron willed to let a few raindrops actually ruin her day . . .)

Enough philosophy. Back to today. As we headed north from Escanaba I noticed that Diana was getting spray all up her back. I had the tent poles on my rack, which I think acted as at least a little bit of a fender. As it turned out with Diana, no tent poles, no fender. So when we stopped at the next town -being the devoted and considerate husband that I am – I looked around for a “fender” for Diana. Didn’t see much – but fortunately there was a garbage can conveniently located right there. And, sure enough, problem solved. Yesterday Dunkin came to the rescue. Today it was Dominoes. I know people don’t love the big chains – but they’re kind of coming through for us on this trip.

There are very few fenders in the world that combine light weight, flexibility, and effectiveness as well as a used Dominoes pizza box. Just had to remove the leftover pizza and the cigarette butt and we were on our way . . .

(Now I realize that there have been some allegations related to rain spray from yesterday. I won’t sink to the level of answering these reckless statements, but I will say that I was not aware that they had even been made at the time I selflessly fabricated a fender for Diana this morning. I’ll just let my actions speak for themselves . . .)

Okay, and then a bunch of riding and other boring stuff happened – bzzt – can you hear the fast forward button?

Today turned out to be the inverse (Opposite? I can never get those straight.) of yesterday. Yesterday the forecast kept saying the rain was done, but the little pellets of water that kept falling on us said something quite different. Today the forecast kept calling for more rain, but the little glimmer of blue sky we saw and the continuing dry state of our clothes told a different story.

Eventually I broached the sticky subject of camping. “We could get to the campground, take a hot shower, and then go to dinner in the nearby town,” I told her hopefully.

“That won’t work,” she shot back. “The nearest restaurant is 7.5 miles away from the campground.” (You can count on Diana to have researched all of this type of stuff in advance of any discussion I might try to have with her . . .)

“Unless you want to bike to the next town, get dinner and then bike back,” she offered.

Now, for most people in the world, this would be a purely rhetorical ploy, meant to show how ludicrous my idea of camping actually was. Who would want to bike 15 extra miles after biking the whole day? But Diana is not most people. I knew at this point that my camping idea was hanging by a thread . . . Because I am in the “most people” category – and there was NO WAY I was going to bike an extra 15 miles just so we could camp . . .

“We could get some stuff at the grocery store and cook,” I suggested, “It would be great to camp on the beach by the lake.” (Suggesting a romantic evening by Lake Michigan to Diana is certainly a desperate move on my part – not at all likely to penetrate her considerable defenses – but what option did I have left?)

Sure enough, Diana was not going to fall for that tact so easily. “Grocery stores? There are no stores until the same town where the restaurant is – 7.5 miles past the campground . . .”

Now, as circumstance would have it, we happened to be right across the street from the only store within 30 miles or so: The Dollar General. And it so happens that I have recently shopped there – and been pretty impressed by their selection actually.

Here was my opening . . .

“We could get stuff for dinner there.” And I pointed across the street.

I won’t bore with you the rest of the back and forth. Suffice to say that we ended up having a romantic evening on the beach – in fact, I’m still listening to the surf as I type away in the tent. (Diana undoubtedly has her earplugs in so I’m not sure she can hear the lake . . .).

Amazing dinner. Rice pilaf. Grilled veggies and steak fajitas. Broke out the Chilulla (sp?) sauce packets from the convenience store. And the best part? Diana cooked up some baked apples for dessert – lots more roadside apple picking today . . .

Her recipe? Well, it’s kind of a secret – but I’ll share it with you anyway, because I’m in a good mood.

Obtain apples by sending your spouse on a dangerous mission picking apples along the road.

Core the apples.

Fill the core with butter (we had to buy a pound of butter to have any butter (in Diana’s world you can NEVER have too much butter) – so we had plenty) and crumbled oatmeal raisin cookie purchased from Barb’s (yes, that same Barb’s – home of yesterday’s Swedish pancakes).

Wrap each apple in aluminum foil and throw in the amazing fire your spouse constructed.

Leave in the fire for about fifteen minutes.

Eat them while molten.

Amazing dessert. Even without the Swedish Pancake Effect we managed a pretty darn good day . . .