I just got back from a trip to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, and I didn’t plan to blog about it. After all, I was backpacking in the Porcupine Mountains for a few nights and then staying at a remote campground. We didn’t have access to a shower, let alone wifi.

But then, as our friends’ motor home was on a steep slant, broken down, and threatening to roll into the lake? Well, my fingers started getting twitchy. I needed a keyboard and wifi, but I made do with a notebook and pen (because after all, it’s not like I would travel without at least a notebook – who knows when something like this might happen?!). So that’s why you’re getting a one-post blog instead of daily anecdotes. Sometimes life just throws you a singular blog post.

We were on a fishing trip with our friends Chad and Amy. At the point of this bloggable story, Rex and I were setting up camp at our campsite. Our friends had a camper, but we had a tent (because we’re more hard core….or because we simply don’t have a camper. Take your pick).

Anyway, a text came through to Rex (whoo hoo! Momentary service! We hadn’t had service for days!). Our friends were stuck, broken down, on the public fishing launch where they had been putting in their boat.

We hopped in the truck and went to see our friends (not that we could really do anything, but it seemed like the right thing to do). Their motor home isn’t new, exactly. As a matter of fact, it’s older than me. So. It could be that this trip was too much for the lil guy, and he finally crapped out on them. Or maybe it was something easily fixable. At that point, we had no idea. Chad and Amy thought the battery might need a jump, so they’d requested help from a random guy named Mike.

Mike was a middle aged guy wearing a faded yellow University of Michigan shirt. He was out with his dog Pumpkin, the sweetest orange-colored retriever that you ever did see. Mike had a strong Yooper accent and a disdain for “city folk,” though he determined we were not, in fact, the dreaded “city folk” once he and Rex started talking about grouse hunting. *eyeroll*

When our friends attempted to jump the battery, the engine started smoking. This, as a rule, is never a good sign. After that attempt, the engine wouldn’t do anything when they tried to turn the key. It was super dead.

Because we are more city folk than we’d care to admit, all four of us did what any good city folk would do in this situation: we whipped out our phones.

“Yer not gonna get good service,” Mike said, petting Pumpkin. “We don’ like all that cell service up here. No service keeps them city folk away.”

Yeah, well, WE NEED SOME SERVICE AT THE MOMENT, MIKE. I called Pumpkin over to help keep me calm. Dogs are great for that. She walked over, turned around, and promptly sat on my feet. Mike said that Pumpkin does this because she knows people can’t walk away if she’s sitting on their feet, and they’re more likely to keep petting her. Sweet dog.

Rex finally got a bar of service (hooray!). He looked up all the local auto repair places (two of them within about a gazillion mile radius).

“Aw, they’re not gon’ be open,” said Mike. “The rodeo’s in town!”

Of course it was.

And of course they weren’t open. Because who could have car trouble when the RODEO was in town? It goes against the laws of science or something.

The one place had an after hours number to call for emergencies. “Write this down,” Rex instructed me. I held my pen ready.

“Okay, it’s 906-327-56…. dang it! I lost service! I don’t know the last two numbers!”

“Well,” I said, trying to be helpful, “there are literally only a hundred possible phone numbers with that beginning. We could try them all.” (This wasn’t as hopeful as I thought).

Chad tried calling. He got one more digit before he lost service. Whoo hoo! We were down to only ten possible numbers!

Time out: can I remind you that this motor home is broken down IN the public boat launch? So not only is it slanting down toward the water, but it’s blocking the launch, making it impossible for anyone to get in or out? YOU’RE ALL SPENDING THE NIGHT ON THE LAKE, PEOPLE! GET COMFY!

Hehehe…not exactly. There weren’t people actively trying to get in or out at this time (thank goodness for the U.P. being so remote), but if there were people, they weren’t going anywhere. We were blocking the whole thing.

When we finally – finally! – got the blessed last number to the phone number, we called it. The guy’s answering machine said he was “out of the office.”

“He’s at the rodeo,” said Mike. “I guarantee yeh.”

Thanks Mike. Why was Mike even still here at this point? He wasn’t being helpful…he couldn’t do anything…I think he was enjoying this excitement that we brought into his life. “Call 911” said Mike.

“This isn’t a life-threatening emergency,” said Chad.

“Yeh, but 911 will know what to do. They kin give you some advice.”

Please tell me Mike has called 911 for life advice before.

“There’s got to be a 24-hour towing service somewhere,” I said.

“No, there doesn’t,” said Amy. “It’s the U.P.”

Amy was right. It was Friday night, and nowhere was going to be open until Monday.

“Maybe we can ask the camp host,” Chad suggested. The camp host is basically the director of the campground.

“Well sure yeh can ask him, if he’s sober today! Hahaha!” Mike, once again, was enjoying our peril a little too much.

Rex and Chad left to go find the camp host, Mike finally left to walk his dog, and Amy and I waited in the motor home.

Before too long, the men came back with the camp host. He was at least mostly sober. “This is gonna be great!” he said, hopping out of his truck. “We’ll hook up the ratchet straps to my truck and try to pull the motor home out. When you put it in neutral I might be able to pull it, or it might pull us into the lake. But what do I care because this isn’t my truck! Ha!”

I didn’t pause to wonder whose truck it was. Now that I’m typing this…whose truck was that?! But after over an hour of waiting for help, we were happy for any chance at salvation. Camp Host guy hooked up the ratchet straps, Chad put the motor home in neutral, and we all held our breath.

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened.

Then, slowly, the motor home started moving up the ramp. It was working!

Camp host guy was a total star. He towed our friends back to the campsite so that they could at least be broken down somewhere where they wouldn’t be blocking traffic. Mike drove by to check on us, and he and Rex talked grouse for a while longer. Mike really didn’t have a lot going on.

Rex had to be back to work on Monday, so we had to leave our friends stranded. I know, I know – we’re terrible people. But they were stranded AT the campsite, and before we left we drove them to town for extra groceries, propane, and other supplies. We tried our best to help.

Karma still kicked us in the butt, though – when we tried to stop for a hotel on our way home Saturday, we called FIFTY-FOUR hotels and couldn’t find a vacancy. FIFTY-FOUR. The entire lower part of the U.P. and the upper part of the lower peninsula were completely sold out. It was a crazy Mary and Joseph situation. Rex said I should start asking if anyone had a stable out back where we could sleep.

In the end, we drove through the night and got home at 5 AM. Bleh! We stopped a couple times at rest areas for nap breaks. We had too much in our back seat to put the seats down, so we had to sort of curl around the center console together. It was NOT GREAT. At one point, though, Rex reached out and held my hand as we tried to catch a nap. Maybe we were kind of miserable, but at least we were miserable together.

Our friends are still in the U.P. She’s a teacher, and he’s a truck driver with a flexible schedule, so I think they’re both a little secretly excited for the extended vacation. Keep your fingers crossed that they make it out soon!