I like to get note from old friends that take me back in time...this one just rolled in from Pickens:
"Driving the hand north, back up from the D last night, Devon and I are cruising along US 2 west of the Mighty Mac. Then, calamity. Dash lights aglow, gauges lifeless, and sputtering and gurgling from under the hood. Dodge a deer that was looking for trouble, and limp the Escort (ZX2 Hot!) into Naubinway, a commericial fishing port before the engine ceases. Being as it was Super Bowl Sunday night, I have my doubts about everything. Shortly, they were confirmed. The hotel: closed. The restaurant: closed. The town: seemingly closed. Darkness befalls us, and we pack what we can on our backs, and wander south through town. Down the hill, toward the lake, we stumble across Shirley's Cove, in neon lights. Snowmobiles whine in the cold distance, and we enter to suspicous eyes of the patrons gathered round the TV for a feast of wild game and brew. To our relief, we find nothing but hospitality. The owner and patrons quickly befriend us, fill our both our bellies and mugs, and show us a great time, in the commercial fishing port of Naubinway, MI."
I rolled through the same small town on a bicycle years ago with JB. Stopped at a little diner called the Country Girl. A hand painted sign out by the edge of US 2 read "bikers welcome".
We entered, weary from several days on the road. It was immedately obvious from the "biker" who was running the joint, that they meant Harley...but within minutes, we were being fed a warm meal, and a map was drawn for us wear to camp for free...love that little town.