On our favorite lake / at the tip of our state / hail to Nature: our sole adversary
“Get the gear!” is our mantra / or is it more of a tantra / maybe not, but there’s no other rhyme
Now that’s out of the way / self-aware, so passé / suffice to say that we packed in no time
So we started the trip / kayak’s floating on Fit / the crosswind a genuine worry
The old route preferred / through Algoma and T’Rivers / avoiding the Interstate’s fury
Onto boat we would roll / kayaks part of the toll / the irony not lost on us, true
We were Rock Island fated / with every breath bated / Liz made the traversal, trailing Ben
Twenty minutes, ne’er thirty / t’was no use to get flirty / “Self Registration!”, time and again
Towards site twenty — plus four / with keen access to shore / we paddled from boathouse du nord
For one night we would stay / since our gambit did pay / in the morning, to the main site we’d scored
On day two, up we packed / with our gear tightly stacked / we were finally ready to make homes
But the wind would prevent us / from being too adventurous / instead we would read on our tomes
As the evening approached / a conversation was broached / said the Ranger: “Thunderstorm’s are a coming!’”
So we battened the hatches / and locked all of the latches / and tossed back some liquid-based numbing
Incidentally, dearest Kimber / you might question our timbre / surely we’d left the T-Storm behind?
But this storm was another / not so nearly the bother / still our futures were somewhat entwined
The gale came slightly tardy / almost ruined the party / Liz was unhappy to cook in the dark
Fire was lit nonetheless / ate “carb-cigars” under duress / and this time, no need for an ark
In the morning all evidence / of Nature’s obstinate petulance / was gone from the skies and the sea
After breakfast we’d head / with both Liz and Ben, led / around Island by kayaks set free
Camp stove soon set ablaze / Michigan’s Garden in our gaze / our lunch-spot was quickly exploited
Then it was time for our bath / and back onto our path / hikers’ peep show was narrowly avoided
As we rounded the North tip / Green Bay tossed a brief quip / presenting a magnificent freighter
Maelstrom spiked our adrenaline / doubts quickly declared has-been / there truly is no Lake that is Greater!
Paddling past the ferry dock / it was nearing four o’clock / the last campers were waiting to depart
For us it was a Miller / (or something More Filler™) / until dinner it was time to start
And this evening: what a hoot! / they just don’t get more beaut’ / there was never a cloud in the sky
Once the sun had gone set / stargazing through silhouettes / of cedar trees, crackly and dry
And as we retired / we both briefly conspired / to inventory our stores and necessities
Liz could only conclude / “Hon’, we’ve got no more food!’ / It was time to bring closure to the festivities
In the morning we loaded / our stomachs imploded / had only a short paddle across
Threw our gear in the back / tossed the ‘yaks on the rack / stopped for breakfast just past the ol’ Albatross
More important than food / was our data feed, dude / finally! Our phones were off Airplane Mode
They sucked that place dry / we watched emails and tweets fly / between the two of us, created quite a load
Then to ferry, “Aye-aye sir!” / “Where you want us to put her?” / He carefully thought before he spoke
“I’ll tell you what guys” / “Your car’s such a small size“ / Wry smile: “Whatever floats your boat”
We arrived home from transport / with no incidents to report / the dogs greeting us with wagging and kisses
Another anniversary concluded / eight years? That’s deluded / It’s fifteen between he and the missus
