Lake Huron rolls, Superior singsin the rooms of her ice-water mansion.Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;the islands and bays are for sportsmen.And farther below Lake Ontariotakes in what Lake Erie can send her. - Gordon Lightfoot
There is no doubt that Lake Huron is a great lake. By surface area it is the 2nd biggest of the five. The shape of Huron is a cool one. It looks as if it is reaching out or like a wave of water crashing over that point in Southern Canada that intrudes on the U.S. But Lake Huron isn't THE biggest like Lake Superior and it isn't a glory hog like Lake Michigan so it doesn't get the props is deserves. Kinda like an All-Star baseball player...in Pittsburgh. Yeah, you're really good, but if you don't do it in New York, does anyone notice?
Lake Huron's shoreline is all Michigan and Ontario and we decided that we'd make our stop in Canada. The last time Jen & I set foot in Canada, we had just one child. The post 9 - 11 atmosphere resulted in a passport requirement that put an end to our international travels. So, we secured our enhanced driver's licenses and were on or way with no plan whatsoever.
Well, we sort of had a plan. Drive across Canada and when we got to a point close to Lake Huron, drive north and there would have to be beach access somewhere, right? Closing in on the American border at Port Huron, Jennie finds a road. Heading toward the lake, the road, trees, landscape, and barns, they all look like home, except flat, like someone took an iron to Central New York. And as we approached the lake the residential areas looked like America as well. Looking for lake access we drove through a trailer park, then a neighborhood of beach houses that were quite familiar. The same cars, boat trailers, and swimsuits & beach towels hanging out to dry that we'd see at home. And outside those home were equally familiar angry dogs yelling to us in canine Canadian, "Don't even think about stopping to ask for directions."
Directions would come from Chad. Giving up on this spot, we drove until we found a campground. Inside the store there, I met Chad. Long t-shirt, baggy shorts, and holding a large drink, this 20ish young man was exceedingly friendly and helpful. His sentences were peppered with the stereotypical Canadian, "eh", as well as lots of "dude"s. I couldn't help thinking he was the cross cultural mix of Bob & Doug McKenzie and Jeff Spicoli. If only I had my camera, I'd have gotten a picture of my 1st Lake Huron surfer dude.
Chad's directions led us to a road we had passed 3 times already. The very official looking sign, "Highland Glen Conservation Area" kept us from venturing into the dense wooded area, but that was the place. We headed down a winding gravel road into the dark forest. As we wrapped around that last curve, the trees opened up and there it was. Lake Huron.
I am a 45 year old man. I don't lead a sheltered life. I've been around. It is just a lake. I've seen lakes. I've seen oceans. So why am I so excited? The kids are sooo slow getting out of the van. It is a small public area. A boat launch to the left and a couple couples are picnicking on the grass to the right. The small slope makes it hard to see the beach, but I can tell there are 3 little girls down in the water. My kids are finally out and ready to go. "No Fun" Zachary refuses to take off his sandals, which turns out to be a good thing.
It is a short sandy beach, but you have to go down a short slope to get down to it. Thomas went first and as I get to the edge I can see him down there on his hands and knees. They are buried in the sand and he is crying. He must have fallen, so I head down to check it out. I have been on hot sand. I've been to beaches in North Carolina, South Carolina, Florida, & California. I have been in the California desert to watch the Space Shuttle land. In my life, I have never experienced sand so hot. With every step there were 100,000 grains of sand beneath my feet, each one heated to a degree somewhere mid to high degrees Kelvin. And I could feel each and every one. Thomas had buried his limbs to escape the heat. He chose fight. I chose flight and ran right past him where cartoonish steam boiled up from the cool water. Jennie couldn't do much more.
Let those among you without sin throw the first stone. When you are on a troubled aircraft and those oxygen masks drop in front of your face, they tell you to secure your own mask so you will be better able to help your child. Thomas didn't really buy it either, but I was able to direct "No Fun" Zachary, equipped with his sandals, to save his little brother. It was a nice bonding moment for them. DON'T JUDGE ME!
The lake was beautiful. Everything I hoped it'd be. Up close, the water was a little green. Seaweed stuck to our legs here and there. The rocky beach could poke a bit, but out there, it was all blue. A slight foggy haze hovered over the horizon. The girls that were swimming were accompanied by their mother. A sweet woman who was quite interested in our Great Lakes quest. She was kind enough to offer flip-flops for our trip back across the beach. She sent her daughter to deliver them, of course.
I didn't get her name, but she insisted that Lake Huron has the best sunsets of all the Great Lakes. With another 4 or so hours of driving ahead, we wouldn't be able to stick around to see it. But I suppose that is reason enough to come back.
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| On Facebook, Lake Huron is 10,000 Likes behind leader, Lake Michigan. That ain't right. |
Lake Huron's shoreline is all Michigan and Ontario and we decided that we'd make our stop in Canada. The last time Jen & I set foot in Canada, we had just one child. The post 9 - 11 atmosphere resulted in a passport requirement that put an end to our international travels. So, we secured our enhanced driver's licenses and were on or way with no plan whatsoever.
Well, we sort of had a plan. Drive across Canada and when we got to a point close to Lake Huron, drive north and there would have to be beach access somewhere, right? Closing in on the American border at Port Huron, Jennie finds a road. Heading toward the lake, the road, trees, landscape, and barns, they all look like home, except flat, like someone took an iron to Central New York. And as we approached the lake the residential areas looked like America as well. Looking for lake access we drove through a trailer park, then a neighborhood of beach houses that were quite familiar. The same cars, boat trailers, and swimsuits & beach towels hanging out to dry that we'd see at home. And outside those home were equally familiar angry dogs yelling to us in canine Canadian, "Don't even think about stopping to ask for directions."
Directions would come from Chad. Giving up on this spot, we drove until we found a campground. Inside the store there, I met Chad. Long t-shirt, baggy shorts, and holding a large drink, this 20ish young man was exceedingly friendly and helpful. His sentences were peppered with the stereotypical Canadian, "eh", as well as lots of "dude"s. I couldn't help thinking he was the cross cultural mix of Bob & Doug McKenzie and Jeff Spicoli. If only I had my camera, I'd have gotten a picture of my 1st Lake Huron surfer dude.
Chad's directions led us to a road we had passed 3 times already. The very official looking sign, "Highland Glen Conservation Area" kept us from venturing into the dense wooded area, but that was the place. We headed down a winding gravel road into the dark forest. As we wrapped around that last curve, the trees opened up and there it was. Lake Huron.
I am a 45 year old man. I don't lead a sheltered life. I've been around. It is just a lake. I've seen lakes. I've seen oceans. So why am I so excited? The kids are sooo slow getting out of the van. It is a small public area. A boat launch to the left and a couple couples are picnicking on the grass to the right. The small slope makes it hard to see the beach, but I can tell there are 3 little girls down in the water. My kids are finally out and ready to go. "No Fun" Zachary refuses to take off his sandals, which turns out to be a good thing.
It is a short sandy beach, but you have to go down a short slope to get down to it. Thomas went first and as I get to the edge I can see him down there on his hands and knees. They are buried in the sand and he is crying. He must have fallen, so I head down to check it out. I have been on hot sand. I've been to beaches in North Carolina, South Carolina, Florida, & California. I have been in the California desert to watch the Space Shuttle land. In my life, I have never experienced sand so hot. With every step there were 100,000 grains of sand beneath my feet, each one heated to a degree somewhere mid to high degrees Kelvin. And I could feel each and every one. Thomas had buried his limbs to escape the heat. He chose fight. I chose flight and ran right past him where cartoonish steam boiled up from the cool water. Jennie couldn't do much more.
Let those among you without sin throw the first stone. When you are on a troubled aircraft and those oxygen masks drop in front of your face, they tell you to secure your own mask so you will be better able to help your child. Thomas didn't really buy it either, but I was able to direct "No Fun" Zachary, equipped with his sandals, to save his little brother. It was a nice bonding moment for them. DON'T JUDGE ME!
The lake was beautiful. Everything I hoped it'd be. Up close, the water was a little green. Seaweed stuck to our legs here and there. The rocky beach could poke a bit, but out there, it was all blue. A slight foggy haze hovered over the horizon. The girls that were swimming were accompanied by their mother. A sweet woman who was quite interested in our Great Lakes quest. She was kind enough to offer flip-flops for our trip back across the beach. She sent her daughter to deliver them, of course.
I didn't get her name, but she insisted that Lake Huron has the best sunsets of all the Great Lakes. With another 4 or so hours of driving ahead, we wouldn't be able to stick around to see it. But I suppose that is reason enough to come back.
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