Manistee was gorgeous

I had a good time camping, the lake was beautiful, the campsite was clean and nicely shaded with a front row center view of the sunset over the lake, but there are always a few flies in the ointment. On the way there heading west on 120, I caught a small rock right on the lip. An oncoming semi kicked it up, the rest of the trip I couldn't help but flinch every time a truck came past me on a two-lane. The family camped next to me was large fat and boorish. One of them got the stomach flu one night and it was my misfortune to have the campsite between them and the bathroom. The second night the wind kicked up and blew all night, which was rather eerie and just a little alarming since I remembered seeing the obvious damage down in the woods from previous blowdowns. I kept expecting the thunderstorm to break, but it didn't until the next morning and I was already all cozy and fed, tucked into my tent with a good book. The last day I climbed the stairs down to the beach I overheard some people talking about the helicopters flying around the lighthouse. I asked them if something happened and one of them said, "You haven't heard? There was a plane crash just out from the lighthouse last week and they haven't recovered four of the bodies." That gave me a whole different perspective about the beach. I couldn't stop thinking about what it would be like to be out there floating and lost in all that immense blue.