Today we're coming back from Ironwood, a two-hour drive through pine trees and rivers and hills and some one-block downtowns with closed bars and restaurants that still have their EAT signs. Occasionally a friendly camper will pull over so we can pass, but because of the trees and curves and hills, it's possible to get stuck behind a slow-moving work truck for miles or to follow a spread-out pack of motorcycles that slowed down for the rain.
We set up our tent in Ironwood last night so I could attend some meetings for work, somehow keeping our tradition of always picking the rainy days to camp. Though we did finally, after three other camping trips, have a small window of non-rain to make a fire and break out the necessary s'mores.
We now have until Monday to plan our semesters and make our adorabe little house less like a storage space for boxes and more like a home. Houghton already feels that way.