Leaving for the coast

Tuesday, July 21. Posting from New York Mills, Minnesota, about 80 miles east of Fargo, ND.

Question: What would you think would be located next to a B&B named the "Whistle Stop Inn"? If you guessed the main line of the Northern Pacific RR you would be correct. The trains whistle but they don't stop. Well, the place is great in every other respect and my two room suite with full breakfast for $80 is both comfortable and charming; and, the innkeeper wil get my breakfast at 6:30 tomorrow so I can get another early start.

It's been 3 days and about 1,400 miles since I left Charlotte, VT on Sunday morning at around 6:15 (I love early mornings). Here are some highlights, although I must say that nothing has happened that could be labelled "dramatic" or even "exciting" - just some great riding through some beautiful country. Also, I am frequently amused at the stuff I find myself thinking about as I cruise along at 70+ mph on some deserted country road, and I'll share anything I can remember.

My primary motivation in writing this is so I can read it in coming years and remember all the little stuff that makes these rides so wonderful. Many of you will find it boring. I understand. But if you do read some of this please write me a comment.

So, here goes:

Sunday July 21 - Departure Day. I managed to do all the prep and packing chores during the last few days so all I had to do was wake up, shower, coffee, etc, say good bye to Nancy, and hit the road. Nancy has been very supportive of this adventure and today she got up early to hang around and bid me farewell. I will miss her, and I must admit that during the last few months I have occasionally wondered if this trip really make sense. But, it is 6:15 and I am off. The plan is to cover some serious miles quickly so I head north on I 89 toward Montreal in welcome sunshine. I'll head through Montreal on it's EXPO '67 era freeways before any traffic builds up. The Champlain Bridge over the St Lawrence is freaky scary in traffic, but at 8:00 AM on Sunday morning I have it virtually to myself and admire the great view of the Montreal skyline as I cross. The Montreal freeways really are awful and I am watching carefully for the inevitable potholes or hazardous junk in the roadway. The my relief the roads are actually in pretty good repair. I find myself thinking about the trip Bobby Crozier and I made to Expo '67 in our senior year in HS; in Bobby's dad's 1954 Buick Roadmaster convertible, robin's egg blue with red leather interior; a fun four days including the college girls from Calgary we met at the fair. The memories are a bit blurry, but warm .

I head up past Ottawa (785,000 people), didn't realize it was that big and the freeway morphs into the two lane Trans Canada Highway - Route 17. Destination: Sudbury. A mining center which boasts the world's tallest smokestack, attached to a nickel smelter. The road rolls over and through the ever present "Canadian Shield" a mass of frequently exposed granite that covers most of eastern Canada north of the St. Lawrence. With hindsight, I was too focused on covering the mileage that I don't remember much. I found my B&B in Sudbury, ate a few pecans and went to sleep.

Got up early the next morning, had a nice continental breakfast, and headed west, leaving about 7:30. It's foggy, and as I ride out of town, I can barely make out the kind of industrial scarring that one sees in mining regions. The fog keeps me from getting a close look at "the smokestack". It's probably not worth a return trip. Sudbury is way north of just about anywhere, except Timmons, another big mining town about 180 miles north of Sudbury. It's big claim to fame according to the travel brochures is that Timmons is the home town of Shania Twain - remember her? The fog goes in out as I head west on 17, around the north side of Lake Huron. When it lifts one can see beautiful forests, streams meadows, granite, and occasional views of the water. It clears fully by about 9:00 AM. I'm riding at a more relaxed pace, feeling more in the groove than yesterday. It's about a five hour ride to the border crossing at Sault Ste. Marie.

Later I roll through Blind River, modestly famous for a mention in a Neil Young song I like. I have been interested in seeing Blind River since I saw it on the map while planning this trip. "Long May you Run" is ostensibly about an old car that Neil reminisces about. For reasons not entirely clear to me it reminds me of my father. Neil sings, "It was in Blind River in 1962, when I last saw you alive; but we missed that shift on the long decline, long may you run". then, "Long may you run, long may you run, although these changes have come, with your chrome heart shining in the sun, long may you run". It brings back memories of an earlier time when all seemed fine, vacations in station wagons (a certain yellow '60 Ford), before things changed for him. Amazing how a song can evoke such powerful and poignant memories. I ride around town and take a break at a little marina at the mouth of Blind River(see pic).

Continuing through this near wilderness I think of the intrepid French explorers who blazed this same route before me. In particular, I think of those famous brothers, Reginald Boucher d'Irasburg and his brother, who was literally a brother, Friar Ronald Boucher D'Irasburg, who explored this route in times gone by, motivated only by their desire to trade with the Indians (whoops, Native Americans) at Fort Cassineaux, where legend has it they enchanted their Indian hosts with deft card tricks, and intimidated the natives with their loud snorting steeds with flashy chrome and leather fringed saddlery. But that was another day.