The bridge at Sault Ste. Marie is kinda interesting - a two lane wonder that goes up and down with two main spans; the customs guy starts grilling me but eventually backs off and I'm back in the US of A.
I head west on Route 28 across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, flat sandy soil with small pines everywhere. I decide to take a side trip up to Whitefish Point. I think this might be the Whitefish Bay? Point? referenced by Gordon Lightfoot in his song about the Edmund Fitzgerald. "...they say they'd have made Whitefish Bay if they put 15 more miles behind them". A side road heads north towards the point and the town of Paradise.
Well, will wonders ever cease? a curvy road? really nice sweepers heading through the forest. Can't be. This is the midwest. But it is. A delightful change from the mostly straight roads I have been riding for the last day and a half. After about 20 miles of this stuff, including a few glimpses of Lake Superior, I get to Paradise, a block or two long with a few restaurants. I make some mental notes for later and continue on to Whitefish Point, following the nicely curvy road. At the end of the road there is an old lighthouse, a few outbuildings including the Shipwreck Museum, where I find out that this area of Lake Superior has a history of Shipwrecks, including the Edmund Fitzgerald. it's a nice little museum. In one of the outbuildings housing an exhibit of rescue lifeboats and their crews, I come upon a museum "guide" telling a story. I listen and quickly realize that he is telling the story of how he was on lifeboat duty the night the Edmund Fitzgerald went down, and how he went out on a lifeboat crew when the seas subsided a bit and discovered the floating evidence that the ship had gone down. Very interesting.
I ride back to Paradise and choose a little bakery cafe that seems to have more cars in front of it. The place is run by two elderly ladies and it's quickly apparent that pie is their specialty. I order a chicken sandwich and listen to the pie orders come fast and furious. There is a run on rhubarb, which I like. It occurs to me that I should reserve a piece of rhubarb now - so it's there later when I want it. Whoops, too late. The people next to me are already being told the bad news - no more rhubarb!
Eventually, I try the raspberry which is wonderful.
Back to the main road and westward through endless forest and straight as an arrow highway. Michigan may have an economy devastated by the domestic auto industries problems and destructive high state tax policies, but its highways are in excellent shape. Later, on one particularly fine stretch, I come upon a construction zone - repaving - and join a long line of vehicles waiting for a one lane road to clear. To the right is a big sign proclaiming that this project is funded by "stimulus dollars" - of course it's shovel ready, they are just slapping another 2-3 inches of new asphalt on a perfectly good road. At the other end of this five mile stretch we again encounter the old road, again, in excellent shape. More change you can believe in.
At Munising I take a break, snap a few pics, then head to my final destination for the night, Marquette. I decide to forego a night's camping for a motel, so I can get on the road early. A nice burger on a sunny deck an early night, and I am off the next morning at 6:15 Am. The radar says there will be a line of severe storms to ride through later in the morning. As I head west out of the motel parking lot, I look in the rear view mirrors and see a giant orange sun staring back. A beautiful sight..
The early morning is great for riding. No cars cool air. By 8:30 I have covered about 140 miles, through more beautiful country, hillier than yesterday. I note a looming dark cloud formation in the distance take a break, recheck the weather radar on the I phone ( actually really useful in these situations). The radar shows a particularly nasty storm cell, but it looks like it is tracking north of where I will ride. I will probably miss that one, but there is a line of soakers that I musr ride through. So I don the raingear by the side of the road and press on. Within ten minutes I am in the thick of it.
Actually, riding in the rain is no big deal if you prepare for it, which means waterproof jacket pants boots, gloves, riding a bit more slowly, and getting off the road if its a real bad cloudburst - no visibility and puddles, which are very bad for two wheeled vehicles. I slog on, reaching Duluth in a downpour. I exit I 35 downtown and try to get my bearings. I park under one of those overhead walking bridges which connect buildings in northern cities like Toronto, Minneapolis etc, for some shelter from the rain.
I have two reasons for stopping in Duluth: have lunch at Nokomis, a new restaurant near Duluth which got an excellent write up in the NYT, and to go to Aerostich, a motorcycle on line gear store which has great stuff. I don't really need anything but would like to check the place out since I am nearby.
I call Nokomis. They can fit me in. I get directions which are to ride about 10 miles out of town up the north shore of Lake Superior. I get there just before noon and it is empty. I take off all my wet stuff, and order a cup of tea. Then, chicken gumbo and a walleye po'boy. Everything is wonderful, worth the extra ride. The chef/owner comes out to say hi to this guy who claims (technically true) that he rode out from Vermont to have lunch here. I try the goat cheese cake for dessert. Wow - with this great sauce and cherries. The waiter asks if I like it. "Wonderful", I exclaim. "Are you sure it's not too goaty?" Goaty? "No, it's not too goaty, in fact, I would say it has just the right amount of goatiness". and on and on.
I left my usual nice tip -
Later, I made a stop at Aerostich, it's store located in skid row (that's the customer entrance behind me in the picture). Inside there were a few other bikers and I tried on a few jackets for when mine ever wears out.
The skies were clearing and I was off across Northern Minnesota for NY Mills. This part of Minnesota is all rolling farmland with some forest; the big town is agricultural center Brainerd, with about 14,000 people. In traffic I pulled up next to a guy in a pick-up who looked like a cross between all the cartoon likenesses of Paul Bunyan and Popeye. "Where's the Paul Bunyan statue", I call out. "About five miles east on Route 18". A quick look down at my map tells me that I will miss seeing Brainerd's most famous attraction, a giant statue of mythic figure Paul Bunyan. Oh well. And off we go. Another 40 miles west sits New York Mills, a little farm town with a two block downtown and a few blocks of residential streets. very charming.
After a bad dinner at the Eagle Cafe (the innkeeper warned me but I didn't feel like riding back to Wadena, a take a walk around town and head back to the Whistle Stop. Good night.
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