A day in the life: when nature fights back

Michigan, June 2025 //

We were fresh on the heels of an exquisite five-day visit with some of our closest friends when we crossed the mighty Mackinac Bridge and made our way into Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.  Neither of us had ever been to this region of the country, and we were excited to see what all the fuss was about.  Bordered by Lake Michigan to the south and Lake Superior to the north, the UP is a wild and sparsely populated land that we had heard great things about.  As is true to our style, we had no plan other than to seek out the less traveled routes and then simply follow our curiosity to wherever the road would take us.  

Evening was upon us when we crossed the Mackinac Bridge, and so we didn’t waste much time looking for a place to call home for the night.  Not too long after pointing the truck west, we entered the town of Epoufette, a sleepy little town with the slogan “a place of rest” engraved on an old wooden sign.   After five straight days of dawn-to-dusk socializing, preceded and followed by some long driving days, we were ready for rest, and Epoufette looked like a nice place to do so.  A short way down a rural country road, we found a quaint campground with a handful of lush, grassy sites right alongside the shore of Lake Michigan.  With a beautiful view and no one else around, it felt like the perfect place to set up camp.

Before Mark even had the chance to get out of the truck, he noticed a cloud of bugs swarming overhead.  “Those can’t all be mosquitoes,” he said.  I hoped he was right but feared he was wrong.  We got out of the truck and quickly confirmed that the thousands of buzzing insects that formed a black swarm around us were indeed mosquitoes.  I immediately recalled a video clip our friends had sent us from Alaska last year of this exact same scene.  It was hard to believe those were all mosquitoes when I watched the video clip, and now I was seeing it with my own eyes.  We immediately retreated inside the camper to collect our thoughts.  With a work call coming up later in the evening, packing up and leaving wasn’t much of an option, and even if it was, we weren’t sure where we would go.  With all the water and lush greenery seen on our drive earlier in the day, I had a feeling this might be what life is like in northern Michigan in June.

We don’t love locking ourselves inside our camper for hours on end, but when the conditions call for it, it is what it is, and we make do.  The most unfortunate scenario, however, is when the unfavorable conditions make their way inside.  Somehow, those evil little bloodsuckers were getting into the camper.  But we couldn’t figure out how.  Our electric bug swatter was working overtime, and yet we weren’t getting ahead of it.  Every few seconds, ZZZZZTTT, POPPPP, POPOPOPOP, ZZZZZTTT, followed by smoke and the smell of fried mosquito.  As satisfying as it was to roast them, the camper was quickly becoming covered in a layer of bug guts.  

After my work call, I got in bed and turned on a YouTube video.  My hope was that I’d let the mosquitoes in when I went outside to use the restroom and that Mark was close to killing all those that had gotten in.  However, every twenty seconds another mosquito or two or three would come for my face.  I’d pause the video, hunt them down with the swatter, and then attempt to resume my evening entertainment.  About eight rounds of this madness and I had to give in; there was no way I’d be able to read or watch anything in peace.  Frustrated and confused, I started peppering Mark with questions.  Could they be getting in through the furnace vent?  Are there any holes anywhere we don’t know about?  Is the window closed?  They can’t get through the ceiling vent, right?  Where are they coming from?????  He had no idea.  

I’d gotten a terrible night’s sleep the night prior and was exhausted.  And I knew one thing for certain: if a mosquito was buzzing near my face all night, there was no way I’d be sleeping any better tonight.  This had me well aware of the fact that I was headed for two nights in a row of rotten sleep.  With ten days ahead filled with thousands of miles of travel as we made our way back to Colorado, I feared what that might mean for the coming day.  I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not a fun companion to have around when I’ve not gotten a good night’s sleep.  And yet, I had to accept defeat.  There were no other options than to burrow beneath the covers, pull the sheet over my face, and tuck it tightly behind my head.  It was the only line of defense I could come up with.  Meanwhile, Mark kept fighting the fight; swatting and zapping every mosquito that made its way into our tiny home.  I eventually fell asleep but made sure to remain tucked entirely beneath the sheets, for on the other side of the thin layer of fabric was a faint and continuous buzzing.

Life on the road, where you’re constantly being met with new challenges and ever-changing conditions, can be a test of your character.  The Instagram-worthy moments can be few and far between.  In between those glamorous moments, you’re learning how to roll with the punches, how to adapt, how to be patient, how to laugh in the face of frustration and defeat.  While some days are miserable, some days are so enchanting you never want it to end.  Inevitably, the lows are what give way to the highs.  I may be in constant pursuit of awe, wonder, and enchantment, but after a day like this, I’ll be just as ecstatic the next time I can sit in my camp chair and simply admire my surroundings in peace.