… I grabbed my pack and bag, walked two blocks, stuck out my thumb on M-23 heading south toward to St. Ignace to begin my journey home … continued
I caught a quick ride from some guy with a crazy look in his eyes wanting to know the top end speed of his GTO with the new four barrel carburetor.
At 115 miles an hour we made it through the Hiawatha National Forest in record time, the memory of those dive bombing horseflies fresh in my mind, hoping we smashed a bunch of them against the guys windshield so they’d know what real dive bombing was all about.
At that speed I made it to St. Ignace in about half the time it took heading north, just in time to catch the ferry heading back across the straights to Mackinaw City.
While I dozed on the top deck a cool easterly breeze of pure Lake Huron air blowing past the old fort on the Island brought with it distant sounds of cannon fire and dream like visions: skirmishes in those waters between Red Coats, Indians and Revolutionary Army for possession of the island giving control of the shipping lanes between Lake Huron and Lake Michigan to whoever occupied it, during the Revolutionary War … when the sound of the ferry’s powerful engines surged in reverse waking me from my dreams.