7/8/16 Building Character

It is a rule in our family that no matter what, the party must go on. So, today it did.

We slept in to thunderous events happening at our door, hoping to wake to "the clearing". Rain suits belied our dreams and we hit the road in drizzle which, optimists at every turn, we called heavy mist. Once the fog lifted a bit, we rode damp, but cool into the lonely woods of the Upper Penninsula. 

Heading back to find our road to the Hurricane Highway, Jules spotted a solitary store that sold wine and gas. Our "cellar" was dry, so he turned in. While I was busy buying some Two Buck Chuck (when in Rome...) all hell broke loose outside. We thought about remounting, but a lightning strike too close to my heart chased us back inside. Feeling so fortunate to be in the Party Store, surrounded by fish mounts, deer heads and skunk pelts (that still retained their odor), we waited out this storm that rated a  "severe" from the weather service. 

Once back on the road, we surfed through miles of sodden solitude, with only forest and no shelter. Two Buck Chuck and The Party Store sure enough saved us from a series of unpleasantness. With more storms coming, we hoped to make it to Grand Marais before the next event. Sliding into town, we stopped at the first and maybe only bar in town, The Lake Superior Brewing Co. We were dry, warm and treated like everyone's best friend. Just what you need after a wet ride ...and the Bloody Marys were spectacular! Local fishermen, honkered in from the storm, told us to check out the Log Slide, a residual historical landmark of the logging industry. And we were on it!

The weather gave us a reprieve so we snuck out hoping for the best. First we found H58, which turned out to be a sleeping dragon, rather than its writhing tail. Along the way, we took the advice of the locals and veered off to the Log Slide. Lumbermen in the 1800's found this natural sand cliff that served as slope to deliver harvested trees to the waters below. 

Cramming all the touristry of which we were capable into one day, we rode onto the Pictured Rocks. Miles of carved sandstone echoed past lives that silently canoed their boundaries. Longfellow immortalized these cliffs and we reverently bowed to the power of the mighty Gitche-gumee. 

Munising is our berth for the night. In terms of mileage, our day was short. Yet, miles have never defined our experience. Every ride, short or long, is a journey and every journey is another memory  to shelve away and save for winter nights and kickstands down. For now, I will gladly put my face into the rain and the wind and soar into the unknown. 

That's a big fish

It stinks!

And then it rained

Shelter from the rain

Just so happy

Need I say more?

The bathroom wall- it says it all!

The Log Slide

The Log Slide from the other side

Wheels used to move logs 

I felt his mysticism in this place

Miners Castle - Pictured Rocks

Superior art

Happy in our rain suits

7/7/16 Crossing Over

We mounted our dragon and flew out from our "castle" into the fog. Two chatty travelers that we met at the motel had clued us into a great ride on H58, The Hurricane Highway, touting it to be as challenging as The Dragon's Tail, with more switchbacks, but not as many hills. As soon as Jules heard that, I knew we were bound for yet another amazing sidebar to our travelogue.

But first, a pesky "check engine" light had us searching for a Harley dealer. Maintaining the health of Rascal is the most important responsibility on this trip. Without our ride, we don't ride. So we took an easterly swing to Gaylord and the Forty-fifth Parallell where she passed her physical and had her lights adjusted. 

Back in business, we headed directly up route 75 toward the Mackinac Bridge. Fog was our co-pilot and walled off many of what we thought would be our last views of the lake. As we approached the bridge, sun burned through and blue sky, the St. Ignace lighthouse and repeated signs for Pasties greeted us to the UP, the upper penninsula of Michigan and a country unto its own. The Yoopers pride themselves in their toughness and insularity and wonder why that bridge was ever built.

"In winter we shovel snow and in summer we swat mosquitoes. During the spring and fall we rest up for swatting and shoveling".

---Peter Oikarinen's reply to the often-asked question of Yoopers, "What do you people do up there?" 1987---

Still hugging Lake Michigan, we headed up Route 2, ready to jump into the Seney Wildlife Refuge, Pictured Rocks and The Hurricane Highway, all points of interest recommended to us. Rain changed the game. Rather than head into the unknown, we sluiced into the closest town and found shelter for the night. A room with a view of the lake (at breaks in the weather) kept us on Michigan for the night. Tomorrow will be Superior!

Our days may be wet. Our days may be dry. They are all still days of exploration, adventure and tales, written together on the road. Often, as in life, the worst weather creates an intimacy in those who travel through and wait together to see the sun.

Our "castle"

Road work

Open grate ..don't look down😜

Crossing Over

St. Ignace

It wouldn't be the UP without them!

7/6/16 Doing the "Pinkie"

What itinerary? Plans to cross into the UP were thwarted today when the little finger of the Michigan mitten beckoned us. 

We gratefully rode out into another weather-perfect day, again congratulating ourselves on the fact that we did not take the Chicago route, as heavy storms swept through that area. We roared up route 31, a motorcycle dream with rolling sweepers that Rascal leaned into with joy. Passing Bear Lake we dodged happy tourists flocking to the beaches or shopping, enjoying Michigan's short summer. Lines for ice cream wound around street corners as families lined up for sweet treats. Reminiscent of the Jersey Shore, these sandy beaches live up to their nickname, "The Third Coast".

At lunch we studied the map and decided we weren't done with this part of Michigan, so we veered off 31at Benzonia to follow route 22 along Crystal Lake and up the Leelanau Penninsula. More beach towns dotted our path. Between the towns ,trees red with cherries filled countless orchards at this peak of the harvest season. Michigan  produces 75% of the tart cherries in the US, but as we discovered, they also grow some mouth watering sweet varieties also.

At Northport we crossed to the other side of the Penninsula and headed south. Stunning views of Suttons Bay and then West Arm Grand Traverse Bay rolled by as we swept the coast of this spit of land, the  "pinkie" of Michigan. Traverse, the end of our side trip, was packed to the gills. Traffic, both foot and wheeled, slowed us to a near halt. Because we are wanderers and not planners, we had unknowingly landed in the heart of the National Cherry Festival. Phobic of traffic and crowds, we high tailed it down the road, missing the adult cherry pie eating event and the cherry pit spit contest. 

Any disappointment we may have felt at missing these events abated as we flew up the East side of Grand Traverse Bay to Charlevoix, where we put our kickstand down for the night and enjoyed the evening sights by a drawbridge, a lake and a bay. 

Water has been our side kick since our foray into Michigan. Hugging the coast, we have travelled by innumerable lakes, rivers and bays. Never far from a source of recreation, residents equip their yards with boats, kayaks, and any other water toy known to man. What a wonderful place to live - in July. In 4 months, ice will form on the lake and snow will begin to fall in feet. But  Michiganders will break out their winter tools and toys and skate into the cold. Pure Michigan - pure heaven and pure enjoyment for these two riders as we plan tomorrow's jump to the UP.

Side note: Every trip we take Jules and I look for giant replicas of animals, people, etc. used to advertise or promote. We hit the mother lode today as seen in my pictures. There are so many quirky sights to see on this long and winding road.

Historic ferry boat

Crowded beaches

Jersey Shore?

Dunes along Bear Lake

Crystal Lake

Michigan cherry

Our view from lunch

The canal from Lake Charlevoix to Michigan

A giant deer

A giant dinosaur (but I guess they're pretty giant anyway)

A giant swan

7/5/16 Another Great Lake Day

We shunned Chicago today in favor of a better ride. Sorry Windy City, but you just have too many cars!

An early morning glance at our usual route west, through Chicago and points beyond, presented a fresh approach. Since we were planning to ride along the northern border of the states, why not cut north through Michigan. The idea gained even more appeal when Jules realized there was a seedling nursery, Alpha, along the dunes of Lake Michigan. So we headed north out of Angola and west toward Holland and the lake.

Holland is a charming city, settled by Dutch immigrants, many of whom have maintained their heritage. Notable for its annual tulip festival, Hope College and the Heinz Pickle Company, the downtown has maintained an immaculate historic ambience. We ate our lunch by Lake Macatawa, a tiny neighbor to its big brother Michigan.

After lunch we visited the nursery. While Jules toured the immaculate fields, I sat under a tree, blogging and enjoying the perfect weather. The sandy soil of this region is similar to that of New Jersey, and has bred many flourishing nurseries. 

Back on Rascal, we headed up along  the lake, as Jules ogled farms with immaculate rows of trees and greenhouses filled with plants. In his desire to get as close to the lake as possible, my stalwart guide rode off the beaten path to find a lovely forested lakeside road which we followed for miles. Cottages dotted the shore and at some points, the dunes that are a huge recreational draw here, were prevalent. Four wheelers with "Got Sand" stickers on bumpers and windows, roared around, looking for a sandy thrill. I was captured by the beauty of this part of Michigan that I had never seen. 

And then we went to "The Shore". Rolling into Ludington, we cruised the town to the end where the lake had deposited a large sandy beach which was filled with vacationers. Hotels and motels dotted the streets and we found a lovely little 3rd generation Mom and Pop, The Vista Villa, which was just our style. After a protracted dinner ( there are only about 8 restaurants to support the huge summer influx of tourists) we went to the beach to watch the sun set on another page in the log of our journey.

As much as we've seen of the US, there are still limitless opportunities for new discoveries. Riding the Eastern Shore of Lake Michigan unfolded to be another gem in our growing coffer of travel treasures. We are becoming rich beyond compare and our wealth multiplies with each day on the road.

Welcome to Holland, MI

We're in Holland - of course there a windmill

Picnic on Lake Macatawa

Lake "Mishi gami"

The largest freshwater dune system in the world - the singing sands

The cliffs

Meet me at the clock tower at 7:30!

Sandy beaches at Ludington, MI

Sunset at 10 PM

7/4/16 A Celebration

Mountains, some farm country and a "great" lake catapulted us forward across the continent. 

As we turned out onto Route 6, the Alleghenies lined our route and rode us into Ohio. As 6 veered south, we reluctantly waved goodbye to our delightful guide for a day and headed west on 97 to catch up with our good friend from past trips, Route 20. Riding the rim of Lake Erie we broke through to Ohio at Conneaut. 

Coasting toward Cleveland, we passed up numerous lakeside parks, overflowing with happy Independence Day picnickers, and finally found a solitary table overlooking Erie. Here we shared our wine and cheese and looked out over an ocean of water while we melted a little more into our trip. Friendly birds decorated Rascal as we ate. Finding a shady parking spot isn't always the best idea!

Our first taste of Cleveland was not so sweet. Poverty had captured this part of the city and left it blighted with vacant stores, graffiti scarred buildings and rotting tenements. And then the anomaly of class structure blatantly rose from the edge of the lake. Our tires crossed only one street and we rode into a world of affluence. Iron gates framed mansions, some akin to royal estates on this stretch of Lake Rd. Carriage houses and servants quarters dotted the properties. The juxtaposition of poverty and wealth was so definitive it seemed surreal.

Past Cleveland, we headed west to the Ohio Turnpike where we made some serious tracks to end our day in Angola, Indiana, just south of the Michigan border. Rascal was 50,000 miles old today and straining at the bit to reach 100!

 Independence Day has passed and as I hear yet another round of fireworks, I am again reminded of how truly free we are.  Perhaps our country is not Shangri-la, but it is my paradise and as close to perfect as any other place on earth. God truly has blessed America.

An Allegheny sunset 

When it rains it pours... Salt mines on Lake Erie

A milestone for Rascal - and she's only 2 years old!

Proud to be an American 

7/3/16 And Away We Go

Route 6, the Grand Army of the Republic Highway and one of the better ways to head west, guided us through most of Pennsylvania today.

After two days of wallowing in family love at Mink Pond, our hunting and fishing club, we shot out the gate like American Pharoah. Anticipation grew as we enjoyed our children, grandchildren and friends. We were also treated to a special visit from our friend George, who drove to the club, just to say goodbye. A truly American day of trap shooting, beer, steamed clams and a pig roast, followed by  a sparkling fireworks display reined in our growing desire to fly. But today, we kissed and hugged what means the most to us, then took wing.

Crossing Pennsylvania, we were bombarded by a virtual product map. Carbondale brought on the coal, then dairy reigned in the Endless Mountains. Finally gas and oil took charge. Through charming towns like  Mansfield, Wellsboro and Coudersport, we rode on a flawless summer day. 

Down for the night in Warren, we watched as thousands of people camped in to watch fireworks, five hours before the event. Even more exciting for this western Pennsylvania town is the parade tomorrow. An ordinance had to be passed stating that chairs on the parade route could only be placed out two days in advance, because the townsfolk were saving their spot weeks ahead. Tonight there is no space left. This slice of America is truly apple pie.

So we have begun. Immersing ourselves into real time America is one of the rewards of our mode of travel. The unscheduled, the chance happening, the random roadside wonder are waiting just around the next curve. Into the wind we will ride, hearts and eyes open, embracing the freedom granted to us hundreds of years ago and exploring all that lies ahead.

This is where it all begins

Mink Pond

Departure

We will miss these two

An American day

We must be in dairy country!

The famous Wellsboro Diner