Day 5 on the bike. 63 miles. 6 hours. Toast. As in, I am toast. 2 of the last 3 hours (the 42 miles from Cheyboygan to Roger City) was spent on an uphill grade fighting a cold headwind off of Lake Huron. I limped the last 10 miles into Roger City only to find no motel rooms.

Unf***ing believable. Oh, and the next motel was another 35 miles further down the road in Alpena.  Not happening. I could have possibly mustered the where for all for another 10 miles. But 35? Nope.

So things were looking grim. I hate these damn festivals. There is nothing like one of these weekend festivals to gum up the works of a well-oiled, seat of the pants travel operation.

So I was sitting in the lobby of the last possible motel where the clerks told me [again] ‘no’;  they were almost laughing at my predicament. After which I had just looked up only to strike out as there were no members present in the immediate area. Like I said, grim.

My next planned stop was at the Sheriff’s office to beg a jail cell for the night. Or hunt up a sporting goods company (is there one in Roger City?) to buy a tent.

Until when a group of people walked in and annouced that they couldn’t use 1 of the 4 rooms that they had reserved and I shouted, ‘I’ll take it!’

Serrendipitous? No my friend. From my perspective it was one of those tiny miracles straight from the hand of God.

PS – I asked all the motels about cancellations only to be told over and over that, there would be no cancellations. Policy for this festival (the busiest weekend of the year) entailed all reservations to be pre-paid for the long 3-day duration of the festival.

PPS – Michigan is not a MexiCAN kind of place. It has been my observation that most of the people here like to use the words ‘Can’t or impossible’ and then watch the other party twist in the wind. But F***k ’em. I am a problem solver and I know that game. And f***k ’em again. I always believe – no matter what the problem – there is always a solution.