On the road again. A bit of the melancholy excitement of traveling out of season when the crowds are gone and when change is in the air.

Some rain, but more bugs. On the stretch from Escanaba to Manistique it sounded like we were dving through a popcorn popper, and by the time we got to our motel the windshield was nearly opaque. Two motorcyclists circling Lake Michigan counterclockwise pulled into the parking lot as we did with saturated leathers and a lot of bugs in their teeth.