There was one night when we were in The Porkies when it rained quite a lot. Not a deluge, mind you, but enough for us to be thankful that we were in a trailer instead of a tent.
The next morning, the storm was gone and there was a gentle breeze. I saw a couple setting up camp a few sites down from us. They had just arrived. There was a tarp and sheet hanging from a long rope strung between two trees. One of them was shaking the fly and furiously sweeping the inside of the tent. He looked up and smiled.
“Did you get wet last night?” I asked, wondering where they had arrived from.
“Yeah,” he said, “but it wasn’t too bad.”
He then explained that after three years of dating, he and his partner had taken a long weekend from where they worked (in food service in Wisconsin) and without telling anyone got married in Mackinac. He and she had told no one of their plans, had borrowed his boss’s car for the trip, and were on their way home. Later that day, I saw him writing “Just Married” on the back of the car as she drew green ivy designs on one side and wrote something in runes on the other side.
The following morning, as Trudy and I were enjoying the free hot chocolate and coffee at the camp host’s site (evidently a summer Saturday and Sunday perk at the campground), I looked over to the newlyweds’ site to say goodbye. All was quiet at their campsite. Their tent was still closed.
What a shame to miss them and not get another chance to congratulate them. Instead I got a pen and some paper and left them a note on the door of their car.
I forgot to date it. I bet they’ll remember.