Dead River Coffee Shop/travel angels are real - Marquette, Michigan

When we got to this cafe there weren't any open tables, but the barista said she would find a place for us. She asked some old men to budge over so we could join their table and we sat down a little shyly, coffees in hands. They were drinking coffee and playing cribbage, three of them. One mustachioed in grey, one with 1970s aviator style eyeglasses, one with a big belly and a red Santa nose. They were very delightful company and very interested in our travels and how we had come to Marquette. We chatted amiably about Bellingham weather and Marquette winters and how when they were kids here there were NO coffee shops: they went to diners and had coffee that was basically just water with chicory and cost 10 cents. Now they come here sometimes twice a day, even though the owner, Theo is a permanent curmudgeon who sometimes carries a squirt gun to reprimand misbehaving customers. They said the lake keeps them warm in the winter and cool in the summer. They said many of their friends have moved away because they couldn't find work in Marquette. This other overall-wearing gent called over "anyone know somebody who does good body work on the side?" And Santa Nose was like "what'd ya hit?" And Overalls said "someone hit me!" Then he got curious noticing we are not familiar faces and came to ask where we are from. When we said Bellingham, he said he has an old girlfriend who lives there and is one of his true loves.

Now some have left and other old man characters have arrived to the table. They talk about all the different wars, a kind of friendly argument just for entertainment.

Last night I got very tired and road-weary. I'm not sure exactly why, but I felt a pervasive sense of loneliness, disconnection and fear. I was sitting in the truck crying in the parking lot of the Marquette Co-Op when this tattooed guy with a camo baseball hat on poked his head around and waved at us. I did not feel like talking, but he was coming over so I rolled down the window. When he saw that I was crying and backed up a bit saying "Oh sorry! Bad time?" I said, "No, I am just crying."He and his girlfriend wanted to look at the canopy my dad helped us make. We got out and showed them the inside. They loved it and wanted to hear all about the process, having both lived in trucks before, travelling around like we are now. Maren said we were looking for a place to park the truck tonight, somewhere where we wouldn't be bothered. They said they knew of a great house up on the hill, a community space where they had both crashed last summer. They were so kind and sweet, they arrived at the exact perfect moment. They led us to the Marquette Climbers Coop, a cooperatively run house focused on sustainability and community. It has an open door policy for any traveler who finds their way there. When we arrived they were three hours into their "family meeting" where they go over all the nitty-gritty details involved in fixing leak roofs, installing bouldering walls inside, developing systems to catch grey water, taking groups of students climbing etc. The kind couple gave us a tour of the place and after the meeting was over we met the core inhabitants of the house who were all very welcoming and friendly. We hung out all together for a little bit and then went off for a walk since we'd been sitting in the truck driving most of the day.

It often seems like the world is not made for those who want to travel light, cheap, and spontaneously, those trying to skirt around the edges of things. I start to feel that everywhere is purposefully exorbitantly expensive and crowded and distrusting of strangers, but each time I have felt the most hopeless and disillusioned on this trip, we have come upon some welcoming oddball, some vagabonding person or people who affirm us in what we are doing.