Day 260
Irene and I woke Saturday to a soggy morning with the same gray, overcast skies. After all, it was autumn and what did I expect? We would just have to make the best of it. So we went in search of adventure in the form of a cider mill. Nothing says fall in Michigan like fresh apple cider and hot doughnuts.
We drove down the path, I got out and unlocked the gate, drove through and then locked the gate again. As we were driving along, following the directions we had been given at the ranger station, I had visions of an old weathered mill with a large water driven wheel slowly turning the apple press and churning out that sweet/tart nectar. The air filled with the scent of crushed apples, and fresh, hot doughnuts still crispy from the hot grease.
Dark red candied apples and nut covered caramel apples. Cotton candy and homemade fruit pies baked to a golden brown. And maybe some apple wines or hard ciders. My stomach started rumbling after the sparse breakfast we had had that morning at the cabin.
When we arrived at the "cider mill" it was far less than I had expected. In fact it was little more than a shed by the road with a hand painted sign that read The Cidar Mill. There was a few bags of apples, an over priced pie, doughnuts in a plain white box and apple cider in plastic jugs with a sticker from Yates Cider Mill. To say we were disappointed was a gross understatement.
We would have just left but we were so hungry, we bought a half dozen doughnuts and a half gallon of cider and drove back to the cabin.
By now the rain had started coming down heavy. When we pulled up to the gate, Irene flat refused to get out and unlock it, even though it was her turn. I tried to appeal to her feminist side telling her that she didn't want a man doing something so chivalrous as laying his coat down across a water puddle for a woman to keep her from getting wet. She decided when it came to one of us getting soaked in the rain chivalry was fine by her.
My rain poncho was in the back seat and I worked it over my head and shoulders before stepping out of the car. Irene slid into the drivers seat and when I had opened the gate she drove the car through. After closing and locking the gate I turned back around to find that Irene had pulled the car all the way up to the cabin, leaving me to walk in the rain. Payment for my "feminist" remark.
I ran up the drive as best I could, slipping on the muddy drive. As I was rounding the curve leading to the cabin there was a bright flash and loud booming crash that shook the ground. I had been momentarily blinded by the lightning and when my sight returned I looked in the direction of the crash knowing the strike had been very close by. I saw the pond was rising from the torrential down pour, then I noticed something that had not been there before.
I saw what I had thought to be the end of a large branch sticking up out of the water. The branch had to be almost five inches across and at least that much above the water surface, with an angry red spot on one side and a milky blue spot on the other side. I assumed the wind or the lightning had broken it loose from a nearby tree overhanging the pond.
Another flash roused me from my curiosity; I dashed into the cabin closing the door behind me. The cabin was dark so I flipped the light switch. Nothing happened. I flipped the switch down and back up again, still no light. I flicked the switch several times with the same result. The electricity was out.
Perfect.
Until tomorrow,
Ken
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