Up Over: 7/9/16 Taking Care of Business

Blustery and chilled, Superior had us dressed in leather. The wind whipped off the lake, raising white caps and goosebumps as we headed into the Hiawatha National Forest, along the Au Train Bay. Favorable skies colored the water as only nature's paintbrush can and we walked on desolate beaches in awe of the solitude and beauty of this place. With surfable waves curling onto the sandy beaches, it was easy to imagine the first explorers thinking that they had found another sea.

We dragged our boots out of the cloying sand and reluctantly headed into Marquette. Instantly we spied a Harley dealer, which would be our home for the next 2 hours. That pesky check engine light of several days ago had never stopped worrying us, so Jules decided to look into the matter more deeply. A wait time for service gave us the chance to explore Marquette and enjoy a sunny brunch by an historic ore dock and a fleet of personal sailboats.

Back to bike service where, after a check into the issue, we were told the fix for a malfunctioning heat sensor might take a couple hours. But we didn't even get to settle in to the wait when the bike was done. So glad for such swift service, we rode out carefree once again - no rain, no check engine light and a straight path through the Yooper woods on routes 42 and 28.

And straight the path was. For hours we hurtled toward the one point visible, miles ahead. Pines and spruce crowded us and very little other traffic hindered our progress.

So close to Wisconsin, we threw in the towel at Ironwood. Even though we gained an hour warping through a time zone, to us, it was still quitting time. Kickstand down and boots off, we recapped our day. One idiosyncrasy shown by Michiganders is their advanced use of the "Palm Atlas". Invariably, people we meet ask where we live. "NJ, and you?" This is when a native will hold up their right palm and point to where their home town would be on the map of Michigan. For example, a person hailing from Detroit would point to the crotch between the thumb and index finger. The Yoopers just hold their left hand above the right and say "up there." For all its worth, I don't think the shape of any other state affords this luxury!

Maintainence of our machine is paramount. Whether it takes two hours or a day, we must keep Rascal running in prime condition. Our stop for service today may have delayed our progress, but we are fixing to trek some mighty lonely roads. Two hours in Marquette, talking to friendly bikers, is a sight better than communing with a grizzly while broken down on some lonesome highway in the North. Sandwiched between a Superior morning and a UP run through the woods, the mundane midday stop in Marquette paled as we chalked up another day riding together, into the sun.