Waldenwoods

[legion]

This weekend, my wife and I attended a wedding reception in Hartland, Michigan. We stayed at the Waldenwoods resort. The first thing I noticed when I pulled up to Waldenwoods was that it had a gate and a guard booth--that was unmanned (more about this later). There was no mention anywhere that there was a place for people to sleep on property, and no visible address anywhere to see if we were in the right place. We thought we were in the wrong place and left.

Eventually, (when we were 10 miles down the road) my wife got a hold of her mom and we figured out that we had been in the right place before. We pulled up to the guard booth, picked up the phone, and said we were there for the Ross wedding. The voice on the other end gave us instructions for how to get to the "Sunshine Lodge" and the gate opened. We followed the one-lane, winding path as directed to the Sunshine Lodge. It is a two-story white building that sits on the lake, and it appears has not to have seen a paint brush in at least three decades. We saw other familiar cars in the dirt parking lot. We got out and went inside--into a normal-size family-room-type-room with two couches and a fireplace. We were informed that we had to go to another building to get our keys and check in. (Information that the voice on the phone should have told us, I thought.) So we got back in the truck and drove to another building to check in.

That first night was pretty uneventful--at least until bed time. We had a room in the corner of the building facing the lake. The building is old and drafty, which is why I think they keep the heat turned to an infernal 95 degrees. It took me all of five seconds to realize there was NO sound-deadening material between the rooms. Now I know about some rather private pet-names some of my wife's family members call each other. Aside from the total lack of privacy--despite the walls--we had a heat-register in our room that sounded like someone was going insane clipping their toenails--inside your brain. It could vary between a quiet, single "click" and rapid-fire multiple clicks at progressively higher volume. I think it chose which variation to make based on which noise it determined would most effectively wake you up wondering: "What the hell was that noise?" To add to the chorus, it sounded like the people in the room above us were periodically pushing a 5-pound weight off the end of their bed, and anytime anyone in the whole building opened a door, the air-pressure change would make our bedroom door rattle. I think there were mice between the floors, as I heard a lot of scurrying/scratching noises in the ceiling. I also think they planted microphones in the common room and hid speakers in my bedroom walls, as I could clearly hear whispered conversations in the common room despite there being 20 feet and two doors between us.

All of this wouldn't have mattered if I had a comfortable bed to sleep in.

I didn't have a comfortable bed to sleep in. I'd describe it more as a morgue tray with sheets over it. A slab of granite, with a sheet of cotton to give the resemblance of a bed. It was that hard. Whichever part of my body that was in contact with the "bed" would get tingly and numb and turn bright red from the lack of blood flow. This forced me to constantly toss and turn to ensure that no single side of my body was within prolonged contact with the "mattress". It was like a slow rotisserie of discomfort--and it made sure that I was wide awake to listen to all of the wonderful, constant, random, repetitive noises.

I can't forget to mention the "pillows" on the morgue-slabs. I think they had been ironed and steam-pressed. Instead of being thick and fluffy, they were thin and stiff. Laying on my back, I could feel the granite beneath the back of my head. On my side, they ensured that my neck was at an awkward angle. Triple-folded, they almost reached the thickness of a standard pillow, but the slightest wrong move and the pillow would spring from beneath your head and onto the floor.

Despite lying in the "bed" for 10 hours on Saturday night/Sunday morning, I think I only got about 45 mins. of sleep that night.

I made it through most of Sunday (the day of the wedding) okay but heavily caffeinated. During the day, we left and re-entered Waldenwoods several times. There was never anyone manning the guard booth and the staff stopped answering the phone at the booth. We took to standing on the pad at the exit side to raise the gate and driving through the wrong-way.

I crashed hard during the wedding reception. I became aware of the fact that I was essentially sleeping with my eyes open. I went back to the room at about 9:00 p.m. and tried to get some sleep. A bad snow storm was supposed to hit Michigan starting at 6:00 a.m. the next morning, and I was anticipating a rough, long drive home. I needed to get some sleep. Now, I'm 99% sure that I was the only person in the Sunshine Lodge as everyone else was at the wedding reception. The doors were still periodically rattling, there was the weight-dropping noise coming from the room above, the random scurrying noises in the walls/ceiling, and the demonic heat register and its (+_#(U*) clicking noise. I took my wife's non-pillow along with my non-pillow and sandwiched my head in between in a desperate attempt to muffle all of the noises. I swear to you, the heat register got LOUDER in response. I cast a non-pillow aside. Immediate silence. I reached a compromise of the least uncomfortable position on the morgue slab. Right as I am about to cease to be consciously aware of my surroundings, I hear a single, quiet, piercing "click". I readjust, I get as close to comfortable as possible again. I am about to enter sleep's warm embrace...I am no longer consciously aware of my surroundings…I am slapped awake by a rapid-fire clickclickclickclickClickClickClickClickClickCLICK CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK!!! I turn on the TV in a vain attempt to win the battle with the heat register. It makes sure to give a quiet "click" at each pause in the volume to remind me that it is watching….and waiting. At some point in my non-sleep, my wife comes back to the room. I turn off the TV so that she can sleep.

The battle endures. I doze off, the heat register reminds me that it is not allowed to let me sleep. Around 12:30, I start thinking that if it makes on more click, I'm going to leave--get in the truck and drive home. The TV had said to expect several-hour long delays on I-94 (the road we are taking home) on Monday morning because of the weather. It also alerted any construction workers on any road projects to not to bother to show up for work on Monday. The snow is supposed to start in earnest at 6:00 a.m.. I decide it is best to get what sleep I can.

Sleep will not come. The heat register sees to that. I keep thinking that I will leave if it makes another noise. It clicks at me--calling my bluff. Finally, at 1:00 a.m., I decide that I can no longer keep letting it taunt me. I get up, I shower, I make a cup of coffee. I tell my wife that we are hitting the road.

It's about 33º out when we leave. The dirt parking lot is a mud parking lot. (The previous day it had been an ice parking lot.) We hit M23 south at about 1:30 a.m. There are wisps of snow in the air. It's just me and the late-night truckers. When we hit I-94, the wisps have become a steady snow, still it doesn't seem to be accumulating. Rather than doing 75 as I did on the way there, I do 60 (10 under the speed limit in Michigan). We hit Michigan City at about 5:30. I decided that I needed gas and something to eat. I see a sign for a McDonald's that opens at 5:00 at exit 34B. We exit at 34B, there is no McDonald's. I fill up on gas and get back on the interstate. I get off at the next exit, where there is a McDonald's, but only the drive-up is open. The snow has started to accumulate, there is about a quarter-inch on the ground. After shoving a McMuffin down my throat, we get back on the interstate. Everything is pretty uneventful until we hit I-55. Right around Pontiac, the sun starts to come up. When you are already dead tired, it's hard to keep your eyes open when it is suddenly brighter out. I fight it. I dig my nails into whatever exposed flesh I can find. I turn up the stereo. I wake up my wife and tell her to keep me awake. I see the sign for Veterans Parkway, I am home free. I am jarred awake by the rumple strip.

We got home at about 7:30 yesterday morning. I went to bed at 8:00 after two days of non-sleep. I woke up at 4:00 p.m. yesterday.

If any of you should ever go to a wedding in Hartland, Michigan, I would recommend staying at the Best Western.

[Big Ed]

Other than that, how was your weekend?

[legion]

I feel really bad. I wanted to celebrate and be in a good mood. Instead I was crabby and semi-comatose all weekend.

[KaptKaos]

I honestly feel for sorry for you, but not why you might think. I have the fortunate ability to fall asleep almost anywhere (accept airplanes, but thats different). Noise, comfort, temperature, pretty much none of that matters. I think if I obsessed over every noise like you did, I would never get any sleep.

[legion]

I *thought* I could fall asleep anywhere too.

Apparently I can deal with being uncomfortable or it being noisy, but not both. These were seriously the worst beds I have ever attempted to sleep in in my life, ever. Even my crappy post-college bed with a spring that used to stick me in the ribs was far more comfortable.

[Jims5543]

You probably made the best decision to leave when you did. Look at the bright side, you were home in your own bed comfortable. If you had left in the morning your drive probably would have been a 12 hour one instead of a 6 hour one.

[HardDrive]

Yikes.

I once went to a wedding (girlfriends family) at a tiny church next to a steel yard in Pontiac, MI. Their was no organist, just a gal playing cassette tapes on a boom box. The wedding reception was in the basement of an old VFW hall in an industrial area. When it came time for the bride and groom to have their first dance, he was no where to be found. Thats because he was out in his car with his father and myself smoking a joint. Pure class baby.....

[911Rob]

welcome back Chris.

[kach22i]

Legion, your pain made me laugh many many times over.

You should get this story published, you could have a writing career ahead of you.

Welcome to Michigan, we knew you were coming and left the light on.

[legion]

Originally Posted by HardDrive

Yikes.

I once went to a wedding (girlfriends family) at a tiny church next to a steel yard in Pontiac, MI. Their was no organist, just a gal playing cassette tapes on a boom box. The wedding reception was in the basement of an old VFW hall in an industrial area. When it came time for the bride and groom to have their first dance, he was no where to be found. Thats because he was out in his car with his father and myself smoking a joint. Pure class baby.....

Most redneck wedding I've been to:

Wedding in back yard by retired judge. Reception in basement with KFC.

Fanciest wedding I've been to:

Daughter of a BOT member. Reception at some private, 100 member country club in the north suburbs. 300 guests. Outdoors. Ice sculptures at each table.

[Big Ed]

Originally Posted by HardDrive

Yikes.

I once went to a wedding (girlfriends family) at a tiny church next to a steel yard in Pontiac, MI. Their was no organist, just a gal playing cassette tapes on a boom box. The wedding reception was in the basement of an old VFW hall in an industrial area. When it came time for the bride and groom to have their first dance, he was no where to be found. Thats because he was out in his car with his father and myself smoking a joint. Pure class baby.....

When it was time for me to cut the cake with my bride, I was out in the parking lot smoking a doob with most of my groomsmen. The video was classic -- when they got word to me and I came running back into the hall, the dj asked me if I was doing something I wasn't supposed to.

My father, however, did not participate nor was he aware of the goings on. He would not have approved.