Apple Wine And Campfire Eggs

Back In Michigan
July 18, `77

Well, here I am again. Excuse me while I check my eggs. They are
about ready to be made into sandwiches, and, while I'm at it, I might
as well have a few more drinks of apple wine. I just can't seem to get enough
of that Boonsfarm. An interesting note here—the last time I drank a
bottle of apple wine I was in Arcadia National Park in Maine. It was
raining and I was also cooking eggs. This time it just quit raining,
and I'm about to eat my eggs. I don't really know what all that means,
except maybe a real good time. Apple wine and campfire eggs are a great
combination; that is, if they're not too burned! Now where was I?

I made my way back to the train station on my last night in Ottawa.
My seat on the train was not very comfortable, and the long ride
was cold, but once the sun came up things got better. I arrived in
Sarnia around 2 p.m. Within an hour after arriving, I had unpacked my
bike from the train, repacked my bike for the road, gone through
customs, and was riding along the Michigan side of Lake Huron. When
Michigan was good, it was great; on a good highway, in hot sunshine,
I experienced what good bicycling was supposed to be about.
I camped that night, overlooking Lake Huron, at a scenic turnout, and
except for the seven bologna sandwiches that during the day I had to eat
because I worried the 90-degree heat would spoil the meat, it was a
pretty good night too. I'll never do that again, though!