Thursday's dawn was heralded by an alarm clock rather than the sun's warming rays and we had slept soundly, devoid of the sporadic re-situating that came with camping. Down at the Lake House restaurant we rallied empty plates for the breakfast buffet and took in the now-lit lakeside view that had their large, plentiful panes full up. The food was warm and generous, the early atmosphere sleepily subdued, and our server—the same from our evening visit—carried a kind smile. We enjoyed our ready-made and varied breakfast while discussing the possibilities along our southbound route. Afterward, we gathered our things from the hotel and I happily withdrew from its walls and halls, eager to return to the outdoors. The plan was to drive twenty-one miles to the southern entrance, stopping along the way to hike, see waterfalls,
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