Circling the U.S. Chapter 22: Hills & Detours in Michigan

Day 47: Tuesday, July 23, 2019     59 miles to Luddington, MI

Our Monday night hosts worked hard to convince us that it was foolhardy to try riding the 50 miles from Arcadia to Luddington in one day. It was too far, they said. There are hills, they said.

Little did they know that Rob and I are invincible.

They offered to give us a ride part of the way. No, thank you, I said. We’ll be fine. We'd already ridden some hard hills to get to their house, so we had a pretty good idea what was coming. And it was only 50 miles. There was no reason to skip any of the miles of the quiet bicycle route along the picturesque Lake Michigan shoreline.

We were out the door and on the road as the sun was still coming up, shedding orange and yellow through the clouds in the sky, the colors reflecting on the water of the town marina.

As we approached the first hill, we had water views on both sides of us, mist rising, a single swan swimming, clusters of grasses scattered about. The air was cool, the temperature perfect for climbing.

The first hill was a humdinger, a couple miles long. Rob had shown me up the last couple days, riding up hills I had walked. I was determined to stick with it, and tried what I’d seen Rob do, and teased him about. I call it the “Drugan Weave.” If you take short turns right and left as you go up a steep hill, it scrubs off some of the steep. A guy I’d ridden with on my long bike trip back in 1980 had also done it.

Few cars disturbed my concentration as I talked myself into staying on the bike and I made it to the top, proud of myself. It was a long hill so I had enough time to take out my tin whistle and played "Road to Boston," one time through while I waited for Rob. He came up, doing his weave, and said, "I know I'm getting to the top when I hear you play."

The next hill wasn't so bad. Then Rob, behind me, said, “As your nutrition mentor, I don’t think that toast is enough of a breakfast for you.”

“I had three-and-a-half pieces,” I said. Our hosts had cinnamon raisin bread, a pleasant switch from oatmeal and easier to prepare. Rob had Frosted Flakes. He loves cold cereal.

“You need eggs,” Rob said.

“You mean you want eggs,” I said. "I could get into that."

Ten miles after we’d begun our day’s ride, we arrived in Onakama. We stopped at the town park to use the restroom because it didn’t look good for a breakfast stop. There appeared to be only a handful of businesses in this little town on the M22 highway. Then we passed the last building in town, the M22 Grill. It had a view of the water and lots of empty tables. I stopped. “What do you think?” I said. “Looks good,” Rob replied.

I took this picture as we were leaving. Cars parked up and down the street showed that this was the hot spot in town for breakfast. Lake Michigan is behind it. We could see the lake from our table.

It started raining just as we were locking up our bikes. Just a sprinkle.It wasn't in the forecast. But as we waited for our breakfast it came down hard. As we ate our omelettes with homemade biscuits and shredded homefries, the rain slowed down. When we paid our bill, it stopped. Outside, unlocking our bikes, we saw blue sky overhead.

The weather gods are smiling on us this trip. So far anyway. Three days of rain out of 47 on the road. Twice we've been able to time storms perfectly by ducking into a restaurant or cafe. And only a couple days of heat when it might have gone over ninety degrees.

Library time, lunch, and a grocery stop ten miles later in Manistee, then we left the lakeshore for some inland riding on back roads, following U.S. Bicycle Route 35, which had treated us well so far. We were cruising along a quiet country road when we saw a “Road Closed, Detour” sign. Detours suck on a bicycle. You have no idea where it is going to take you or if you can ignore it.

A truck drove right past it so maybe we could, too. Riding a bike, we never know how serious that detour sign is. Can we get by? We stopped a couple cars to find out. The first driver had no idea. The second said, “It’s a sinkhole from the rain the other day. You should be okay.” We proceeded, and it was terrific riding on a closed road. Then, in case we missed the first one, we came to another Road Closed sign by a convenience store. We stopped to talk to someone inside. The owner told us that a bridge was out. “Maybe you can go over it. I haven’t seen it so I don’t know.”

We decided not to take a chance and rode back the way we came, took the detour out to the main highway, two miles out of our way Then another detour for a sink hole which sent all the highway traffic onto the quiet narrow road that was the bike route. Heavy traffic at the end of a long day rattled my good mood. Then we left the detour traffic behind, finishing the day on another quiet road as we hit the outskirts of Ludington, our final stop in Michigan before taking the ferry across the lake to Wisconsin.

Circling the U.S. Chapter 21: Michigan Highlights

Our journey through Michigan began in Sault Ste. Marie and ended in Luddington.

Riding Michigan's Lower Peninsula between Harbor Springs and Petosky

Sunday, July 14 - Monday, July 22, 2019

My very first bicycle tour was in Michigan. That was in 1976. I don't remember very much about it. Two college friends and I loaded our bikes onto my Volvo and took off from Providence, Rhode Island, and landed in Michigan. I have no idea why we picked Michigan. We must have had panniers. I'm pretty sure we rode along the northern part of the Lower Peninsula for several days before driving back home. I remember being impressed with the vastness of the Great Lake. And I remember that somebody told us that the Upper Peninsula was stunning. So I've kept that bit of information filed away in my brain and, when planning this trip, looked for a route through the Upper Peninsula.

That plan got waylaid a couple weeks before we got to Michigan by a random email from a high school friend. The last time I saw Mac was at a reunion 15 years ago. He sent me an email because a mutual friend suggested he get in touch with me for information on bicycling in New England. And, by the way, he heard that I was on a big bike trip and if I was going to be in Michigan I should stop by, there's great biking where he lives on the Lower Peninsula. Back and forth emails finally convinced us to head directly to the Lower Peninsula and spend a few days with Mac and his wife, Suzie. We did not for a minute regret that decision. We'll explore the Upper Peninsula some other day.

From Sault Ste. Marie in Ontario, we crossed the International Bridge to Sault Ste. Marie in Michigan. Fifty-two miles was all the riding we did on the Upper Peninsula. It was flat and quiet, but rather boring. We rode to St. Ignace, gateway town to Mackinac Island.

This is a scene from our one day riding on Michigan's Upper Peninsula. We've seen lots of fields sprinkled with hay bales but rarely have seen them in production.

The sun setting on Lake Michigan from our campground outside St. Ignace.

On Monday, July 15, 2019, we took the ferry from St. Ignace to Mackinac Island, which has been a tourist mecca since the 1800s.

In 1898 (yes, that's 1898) cars were banned on the island, so it has retained a special quaint quality that draws in thousands of tourists every day. Horse drawn carriages and bicycles take over the paved streets. Rob and I took an early ferry as our way to get a taste of the town before it became overwhelmed by the summer crowds.

That's the Grand Hotel. Whenever Rob and I travel, we like to wander into historic, expensive hotels. Maybe we'll just walk inside to check out the lobby and ask how much a room costs. Sometimes we'll sit on the porch for a few minutes or go into the bar and order a drink. But on Mackinac Island you have to pay $10 per person for the privilege of setting foot on the grand porch of the Grand Hotel. We didn't even get to peak inside the lobby.

We bicycled around the island, about eight miles on a quiet, country road with very few houses.

We agreed it would be fun to return for a lazy romantic getaway when it is not peak tourist season. We checked out a few restaurants and they seemed to have reasonable prices, as did one of the hotels we looked at.

At the end of the day we took another ferry to Mackinaw City, avoiding the long bridge over the Straits of Mackinac which separate Lake Huron from Lake Michigan.

We camped at a private campground three miles south of Mackinaw City that was surprisingly inexpensive - $19 - and quite nice, right on the water. They had a free 9-hole mini-golf course so we had to give it a whirl. Mini-golf is part of our family culture, a game we rarely turn down if we come across it when traveling. I often get the higher score, but not this time. This was one for the record books. Rob hit his ball off the course three times and I got a hole in one.

Tuesday, July 16, we rode south down the western shore of  Michigan's Lower Peninsula. After riding about 20 miles we met Mac, my high school friend. On the way to his home in Harbor Springs we stopped at the Three Pines Studio in Cross Village, a gem of a place that we would never have found on our own. 

These small boxes are made from the quills of porcupines.

The owner took the time to describe the work that went into these boxes. Sadly, the quills come from porcupines that are found as road kill.

Mac and Suzie have chosen to spend their retirement living in the house they bought years ago as a summer vacation home, a short bike ride from Harbor Springs. Inside it is comfortably rustic. The garden is Suzie's handiwork. The back side has a large deck which overlooks Lake Michigan. 

Our first night Mac and Suzie took us to dinner at their yacht club where we sat outside and enjoyed perch with a variety of salads, new potatoes, asparagus, and zucchini. Afterwards we walked around town and along the harbor where very rich people keep their boats. 

Mac and Suzie are part of a homeowners' association that has the right of way to a piece of the Lake Michigan shoreline. Wednesday afternoon we sat in the sun and went for a swim.

So did Epic, their dog.

Our second night we went along with Mac and Suzie to help officiate for a trail run at their local ski mountain. When the slopes are covered with snow, this is their second home.

Suzie took us for a walk on a trail across the street from their house. She especially wanted to show us the interesting lines on the barn in the picture.

When we left on Friday, July 19, Suzie and Mac rode with us as far as Petosky. Along the way we stopped at Mud Lake where Suzie looked out for the resident swan and its nest.

Mac and I knew each other as part of a group of friends and went to the senior prom together. After high school, I lost touch with my graduating class, only returning for my 30th reunion 15 years ago, where Mac and I reconnected. There I learned that he was living in the midwest and was an avid ski racer. He even coached the sport. I scoffed at what I considered to be an oxymoron. How can you be an avid skier in the midwest with mountains no bigger than hills? 

As Rob and I travel around the country we have been impressed with the beauty we find everywhere, the fulfilling lives people create for themselves in parts of the country that we prejudge as places where we would not want to live. Mac came to Michigan for college and found it to be a place he wanted to call home. Suzie grew up near where they presently live. They met as fellow ski racers. Their lives are full with sailing, downhill and cross-country skiing, mountain and road biking, beekeeping and gardening. 

We spent three nights and two days with Suzie and Mac. They took us to bike shops so we could outfit our bikes with new chains and tires. Mostly, they shared their lives with us. We were touched by their generosity and happiness. Those two days will remain a highlight of our year on the road.

After shopping at the farmer's market in Petosky, we stopped off at the Roast & Toast for drinks.

After leaving Mac and Suzie we stopped at this waterfront picnic area for lunch.

We continued following the Lake Michigan shoreline and eventually came to downtown Charlevoix where we stopped for a walk and beer. Then on to Fisherman's Island State Park where we knew we would have a place to camp because Michigan state park campgrounds aren't allowed to turn away bicyclists. They did indeed have a site for us even though they were full. We were tucked behind the main office, a short walk down a path through the woods to an isolated spot all by ourselves. Another shorter path took us to the lake where we went for a swim.

Dinner that night was the bounty purchased at the Petosky farmers' market - sauteed squash, snow peas, and dried cherry tomatoes with fresh pasta and some spices from home. We also had corn on the cob, no butter, just salt. We found out that you really need butter to get the salt to stick, but it was still delicious.

We passed many cherry orchards in Michigan. It was the height of the season so we ae lots of fresh cherries.

On Saturday, July 20, we went for a swim in Elk Rapids. This is one of the nicest Great Lake beaches we've found so far - lots of sand, no rocky bottom.

One of the things I’ve noticed in my travels is how many places around the world - unlike New England - have free public places to swim with public changing and washrooms. We’ve been able to swim just about every day that we’ve been on one of the Great Lakes and it hasn’t cost us a dime.

While we were changing after our swim people began clearing out of the water; a storm was imminent. We walked back into town and found an internet cafe. As we were locking up our bikes, an elderly couple stopped and the woman asked, “Do you have cover for the rain?” I said, “Yes, this cafe.” And the cafe served us well. I enjoyed a cup of Earl Gray tea with cream and Rob had a berry smoothie. I worked on my blog while Rob read a book. The rain came down hard and we were glad we’d gotten most of our miles out of the way early in the day. We had about 15 to go so we could wait out the storm. The rain conveniently stopped just as the owner of the cafe was getting ready to close at five o’clock.

On our way to Traverse City we passed wide open Michigan farmland..

And wild flowers lining the bike paths.

Saturday night in the middle of July, of course the state park campground in Traverse City was full. They couldn't turn us away but that didn't mean they had to give us a site with a picnic table. All we got was a piece of grass behind a row of campers, the low-rent district as it were. But as we were leaving the campground office a woman invited us to pitch our tent where she and her family had five campsites for their 45th annual reunion. Evelyn and her husband let us borrow dry towels for our showers, gave us beer, and milk in the morning for our oatmeal and tea. We joined their family campfire and were treated to smores. And we were able to get our camping fee refunded.

You never know what interesting sculpture you'll pass as you're riding along.

I will remember Michigan for its plethora of bike paths.

Day 45: Sunday, July 21, 2019    65 miles to Empire, MI

Just a day of beautiful riding on well-maintained bike trails and roads. We left Traverse City along a paved bike path that took us to Suttons Bay, a beautiful town where we stopped at a local cafe for internet and light breakfast. Then we continued to follow US Bike Route 35 10 miles across the peninsula to Glen Arbor. From there we followed another bike path through Sleeping Dunes National Lakeshore with a few steep hills to tackle. Our biggest challenge of the day was finding a place to rest our tired selves. The national park said they were full and would not accommodate cyclists and there were no Warm Showers hosts available. We finally found a campground run by the town of Empire that was very nice, but 6 miles out of our way with several hills to tackle before we arrived. But that allowed us to have a 60+ mile day.

Another farm scene.

On Monday, July 22, we spent several hours in the town of Frankfort. The town has a beautiful waterfront park and a sandy beach where Rob swore he saw a sign in one of the hotels saying that rooms were free for bicyclists. The downtown had lots of choices for eating and browsing. We enjoyed a beer outside while I did some writing. Then Rob popped into a bakery and bought a cinnamon roll topped with chocolate which we shared sitting on a bench by the town harbor.

O

From our very first glimpse of the Great Lakes in Ontario we were surprised at how high the water was. This remained true throughout our travels. Many beaches were nonexistent. One sign we saw said that the last high water was in the 1980's. It made me wonder why people didn't build their docks and stairways with that water level in mind.

I took this picture to remind me of all the cattails we passed everywhere we went in Michigan (and later in Wisconsin).

One more thing about Michigan before we move on to Wisconsin is the apparent lack of tea drinkers. On our way to meet Mac Rob and I stopped at a country store in the middle of nowhere to get a cup of tea and pastry of some sort. The owner said he didn't have tea. How can you sell coffee but not tea? How hard is it to buy a box of tea bags and have hot water available? But he had no tea, and no hot water. Fortunately, we had tea bags and he had a microwave. 

Sadly, this was the beginning of a trend that continued into Wisconsin. No tea in convenience stores and no tea in motel rooms. Just coffee. I could never live in a place that doesn't serve tea.

Circling the U.S Chapter 20: Ontario Highlights -On to Michigan!

Thursday, July 11 - Sunday, July 14, 2019

We had some hills to climb after the swing bridge in Little Current took us back to the mainland. Only one of them was a humdinger, which Rob and I both agreed was the worst one we'd yet encountered. 

I took this picture and the following while we were tackling the hills north of Little Current.

Once we arrived in Espanola and began heading west, we were able to avoid the Trans-Canadian highway with pleasant riding on back roads.

52 miles brought us to Massey where we camped at Chutes Provincial Park, sharing our campsite with hundreds of mosquitoes. Rob decided that this was easier than getting out his mosquito netting.

We woke to thousands of mosquitoes buzzing outside our tent, which made for a record-setting packing up. The campground laundry room served as our refuge for breakfast. Out of fuel, we had lukewarm tea and barely cooked oatmeal made with hot tap water. Yum.  

But we still had our cheery dispositions, ready to tackle the challenge of riding on the Trans-Canadian highway. 

Although we were following the Great Lakes Shoreline Trail, in this part of the world the choice of back roads becomes more limited. Sometimes the trail took us on the highway and the shoulder was wide and smooth. Other times the trail routed us onto gravel roads or unpaved bike trails, not suitable for our fully loaded bikes. We stayed on the highway. But whenever the bike route left the highway the wide shoulder went away and our lives were at the mercy of the semis trucks and campers speeding by.

We did have a pleasant stop in the morning at the municipal marina in Spanish.

Then we found a lovely place for lunch at a boat launch in the middle of nowhere. It was the perfect temperature for sitting on the metal dock while eating our lunch of cheese and crackers, then lying back and enjoying the feel of the sun shining down on us, closing our eyes for a nap. 

But I was not in a good mood; I was pissed. When I went to grab my flip-flops so I could take off my riding shoes and walk on the gravel over to the dock, my flip-flops weren't there. I realized I'd left them on the ground at our previous stop, 15 miles ago. I had sat on the bench to put on my riding shoes while making a phone call to a Warm Showers person. Distracted from finding out we had no place lined up to stay for the night, I'd left my flip-flops behind, ones that I really liked. It had taken me a long time to find the perfect pair last year; they would be hard to replace. But we were not going back for them.

(One day I am going to write a story about the trail of belongings we've left behind on bike trips, starting with a favorite pair of short on a beach in Nova Scotia.)

I made every effort to enjoy our tranquil lunch spot, while strategizing on how to find another perfect pair of flip-flops. Then, it was back to the highway and no fun to be had all afternoon. Trucks and cars whizzed by us, rattling our nerves and threatening to blow us off the road with their drafts. This is the kind of riding that tests your grit.

We arrived in the town of Blind River with three miles more highway riding to a private campground. When we stopped, I said to Rob, "I'm done with that. I say tomorrow we try to catch a ride."

He said, "We can't do that. Then we won't have ridden the whole way."

"It doesn't matter. When I tell people about my bike trip [in1980], I tell them I rode 3000 miles. If they want to know more then I'll say I hitch-hiked 600 miles. I still  biked 3000."

We stopped at a visitor center to find out if there was any other route to Sault Ste. Marie. There wasn't. Then we stopped at the hardware store across the street to try to find a screwdriver small enough to fix my eyeglasses, to reattach the ear piece that had come off. I was only partially successful. One of the clerks in the store told me that I could find an optician downtown. That would work.

Coming out of the hardware store, a woman about our age asked the usual questions: Where were we from? Where were we going? Under normal circumstances we're happy to chat, but we were tired and still had to get to our campground and I wanted to try to find that optician. Before we could get away, she said, "My name is Sally. I'm the mayor. Let me know if you need anything."


As I started to wheel my bike away, I said, "If you know anyone who is willing to put up two older cyclists for the night that would be great."

Sally said, "You can camp at the town marina."

I stopped and said, "That would be wonderful? Is it free?"

Sally wasn't sure, but it wouldn't be much. We got directions, then we rode to the downtown area. The optician was closed but across the street was a shoe store where I found a pair of flip-flops. Not as good as the ones I'd left behind, but they would do. Things were looking up.

We found the marina. They had a coffee shop where we paid the ten dollar camping fee and got the secret code for the bathroom. While we were setting up camp, Sally, the mayor, stopped by with her husband. They lived next door and were out for a walk with their dog. We chatted a bit and her husband went home to get a set of small screwdrivers, then came back and fixed my glasses.

After Rob's initial hesitation about catching a ride to Sault Ste. Marie, he took ownership of the challenge. While I was relaxing in my chair, drinking tea and looking out over the boats in the harbor, he came back with a piece of cardboard and a magic marker.

"I was talking to a guy in the coffee shop. He gave me this stuff. He says I should just write 'The Soo' and we should stand at the exit of Tim Horton's tomorrow around nine o'clock and we'll catch a ride in twenty minutes." (The first word of Sault Ste. Marie is pronounced "Soo." It's French.)

We rode back into town to pick up dinner and enjoyed fried chicken and beer and watched the sunset over the water.

We've been camping in some beautiful places. Watching the sunset from the Blind River marina in Ontario.

We were the only ones camping, except for the guy who was advising us on getting a ride to The Soo. In the morning he stopped by to check on us. I said, "They're doing construction so we thought we'd stand at the entrance to Tim Horton's."

He said, "No, you don't want to do that. All these guys are thinking about when they pull in is getting their coffee. On the way out, they'll pick you up. And don't go before nine o'clock. Nobody's up before then."

We packed up and rode into town for breakfast at Tim Horton's. We've developed a real appreciation for the Canadian fast-food restaurant, as we've noticed that it serves as a community gathering place. And the food is pretty decent.

Then, outside with our bikes, we tried to find a place to stand where the road work had the shoulder shut down. We parked our bikes next to a telephone pole where there was a driveway just ahead of us. I looked at my watch. 8:38 a.m. 

I didn't even see the black pickup truck pull into the parking lot next to us, but there it was and Rob was wheeling his bike over to it. "Con, we have a ride."

I looked at my watch. 8:41 a.m. Three minutes. That's how long it took us to catch a ride to The Soo.

Jody, the woman who picked us up, was a local farmer on her way to pick up a hog feeder across the border in the Michigan Soo. Rob sat in front and asked her all the questions about hay that had been bugging him. Why are some bales round and some square? We learned that some hay was baled as soon as it was cut and some dried out first. Cows can eat hay with mold but not horses. The smaller square bales are easier to store in the barn for the horses.

Rob and I enjoyed hearing about Jody's life, farming full time while working full time and raising three children with her high school sweetheart. They had their first child when they were both still in high school and waited a few years before marrying, bought their farm when they were 25, after their third child was born. That was 25 years ago. She said they do everything with best practices for the environment in mind. After 90 miles Rob and I left with a great deal of respect for this wonderful person who even took the time to drive out of her way to drop us off at a bike shop in town.

We arrived in Sault Ste. Marie at 10:30 and spent the rest of the day bicycling around the city, relaxing on the waterfront, and having a beer. We spent the night at the home of a retired nurse who doesn't bicycle but enjoys being part of the Warm Showers community. She's fixed up an apartment in the basement of her house just for cyclists to use in the summer months. She doesn't cook for them, which was fine, because the apartment had a well-stocked kitchen where we heated up a lasagne we'd picked up. We ate outside in Micky's backyard, enjoying her company on our last night in Ontario.

On to Michigan!

.

Circling the U.S. Chapter 19: Ontario - Tobermory and Manitoulin Island

Saturday, July 6 - Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Riding along the Lake Huron shore north of Kincardine, Ontario on Saturday, July 6. It was bizarre to see such a large body of water, where you couldn't see land, and know that it wasn't the ocean. No salt, no tides, but still some serious waves.

July 7 was our first day riding over 70 miles, with Rob wanting to make a push up the Bruce Peninsula to Tobermory, where we would catch the ferry to Manitoulin Island. The first forty miles were very pleasant, riding back roads along the shore of Lake Huron north of Sauble Beach. Following are some pictures from that part of the world.

We stopped for lunch at Lion's Head.

You are supposed to be able to see a lion's head in the rock formation off in the distance. Rob thought he could see it and tried to explain it to me, but I was hopeless.

Then we had a 30 mile stretch of nothing on a busy highway, no snack bars, no gas stations, no rest areas. After about 20 miles I needed a break, to get off the bike, get a snack.

Sometimes you just have to make do. We pulled onto a side road and found the smallest piece of shade. But we were happy for that little bit.

We arrived in Tobermory around five o'clock and headed directly to the grocery store. As we were locking our bikes, a young woman with a Canadian Parks badge introduced herself as our Warm Showers host for the night.

Rob offered to cook salmon for dinner. We enjoyed having the opportunity to turn the table around and do the cooking for our Warm Showers host for a change. After picking up what we needed, we cycled the four miles to Carolyn's cottage.

Carolyn spends the summer months living in her parents' cottage on Lake Huron while working for Parks Canada leading hikes and doing educational programming. A dedicated bicycle tourist herself, she welcomes other cyclists who stay in a small bunkhouse behind the cottage. When we arrived one of the first things she said was, "You can stay two nights if you'd like." Rob and I looked at each other. We'd been impressed with the town of Tobermory. It looked like a fun place to explore. Carolyn's cottage had a deck sitting directly on the shore of the lake. We hadn't had a full day off in quite a while and we'd just ridden 70 miles.

As we were bringing our panniers into the bunkhouse, I said, "I think we should stay. What do you think?"

Rob said, "I agree."

We spent most of our time in Tobermory sitting out on Carolyn's deck overlooking Lake Huron.

The Chi-Cheemaun Ferry runs between Tobermory and Manitoulin Island a couple times a day. We watched it go by from Carolyn's deck.

We also saw a couple pretty good sunsets.

We spent Monday morning relaxing on Carolyn's deck. Then we rode into Tobermory to explore and find the free internet on a deck outside a coffee shop. We walked around the small tourist town. Then another visit to the grocery store. Rob had a hankering for spaghetti and meat sauce for dinner. Again, Carolyn joined us. It was really fun getting to know someone our own children's age, who really has her act together.

We had fish and chips for lunch with a view of the harbor.

The Tobermory harbor with the town in the background. 

Tobermory is definitely a tourist town, with a national park next door, the ferry to Manitoulin Island, and a number of tourist cruise options. Rob and I were surprised to discover that the Great Lakes are home to many shipwrecks; you can see a number of them from glass bottom boats here. Boats also take you to various islands where you can see some great rock formations. None of that struck our fancy. We were happy to just hang out and relax.

We took the Chi-Cheemaun Ferry to Manitoulin Island on Tuesday, July 9, around 11:30. It took an hour and a half and cost approximately $34 (American) for both of us and our bikes.

 

From the ferry we could see Carolyn's cottage. It's the one with the yellow kayak.

Disembarking in South Baymouth.

We were on the road by 1:45. Starting after all the cars had left we had the road to ourselves for several miles. Then it was quiet country roads for 30 miles before we found a reasonably priced private campground.

Canadian for "Merge."

Lots of hay bales and one happy bicyclist.

We didn't ride around the entire island, just enough to give us the flavor of it. On Wednesday, July 10, we checked each other’s calculations and agreed we had a 50 mile day ahead of us to get to our Warm Showers host in Little Current. We woke up to everything wet from the dew so we decided not to hurry and give everything a chance to dry out, only getting on the road at 8:30. We miscalculated the mileage and didn't take into account the fun things we would find along the way, a flat tire, and a detour. It was a long day with a delightful ending.

We spent the morning riding along quiet roads with a gentle breeze and open vistas overlooking fields of hay, cows, farm houses, and barns in various stages of falling down.

We were intrigued by these rock formations by the side of the road. Bill, our Warm Showers host, told us that the prevalence of limestone made the land terrific for cattle grazing, with its natural supply of calcium. Cattle would be shipped to farms here for their last six months before going to market. That was before calcium was artificially added to their diets.

We kept up a good pace on mostly flat roads. When we saw a sign for Split Rail Brewing Rob was keen to check it out. (He lives by the motto that it's always five o'clock somewhere.) We took the short detour into the small town of Gore Bay, population 900, situated on the North Channel of Lake Huron. A walk through town, a grocery stop, lunch in a park on the water, a flat tire, a browse through some art galleries, and beer ate up three hours so we only left town at two o'clock.

We still had at least 30 more miles, miles we expected to fly by just like the morning. But after only a few had passed we had to stop for a swim under a waterfall and ice cream.

We were able to not only go under the waterfall but get behind it as well. The water was not extremely cold but very refreshing and the view through the water was like looking through a distorted curtain. (By the way, if you're wondering about that bump on the upper right side of Rob's chest, it's his pace maker.)

Bridal Veil Falls from above.

Then we hit road construction. When we were stopped at a dirt section that would go on for five miles, the woman holding the sign told us about a detour that would take us directly to the new pavement. It didn't. But her detour was lovely. When we got back to the main road we had a steep hill to climb that was still dirt. There was no way we could ride up that. We'd have to push our bikes. Cars were stopped waiting their turn. I knocked on the window of a pickup truck with an empty bed. The driver rolled down his window and I said, "Could you possibly give us a ride up the hill? There's no way we can ride up it."

He said, "Sure," and pulled off the road. He was a young father with his two sons in the truck. He'd taken them swimming at the falls. He drove us a few miles to where the pavement was new.

But we weren't done yet. The quiet, flat riding was gone and we had a headwind, hills, and traffic. Fifteen more miles and it seemed like we would never get to our Warm Showers destination. Each hill I thought would be the last and it wasn't. I don't know about Rob but I was doing a lot of swearing.

Bill, our Warm Showers host, had an interesting profile, listing bike rides I'd never heard of. His profile said meals weren't provided but in our emails he said he'd figure something out and that we'd be sleeping in our own cottage. There was no mention of a wife, so I was expecting a solitary bachelor. When we finally arrived after seven o'clock we were surprised to find an entire family hanging out at a waterfront cottage, waiting dinner for us.

Bill is a native of the island. His parents ran a small resort with a dozen or so cottages. Bill and his wife own two of them. They use one as a summer getaway and Bill has been fixing up the other one for guests. It was still in a state of partial disrepair, but we were happy for a comfortable bed and the hospitality that Bill and his wife Patty showered on us.

After we cleaned up we went back to where the family was hanging out and had a beer while Bill's daughter's boyfriend grilled dinner. We learned that Bill is not a conventional bicycle tourist. He does these crazy long bike rides that you have to complete in a certain amount of time, including however much sleep you happen to grab. Look up Paris-Brest--Paris to get an idea of what he does. It's a 1200 km ride that you have to finish in 90 hours. No wonder neither of his daughters, nor his wife, is interested in bicycling with him.

The only reasonably normal riding Bill has done is the Iowa RAGBRAI, eleven times. Or maybe it's twelve.

After dinner of barbecued shrimp, steak, zucchini, and potatoes, which was all incredibly delicious, Bill gave us a tour of the property including the main house where he grew up and the other cottages owned by his many siblings. There's a pump house where water gets pumped up to the cottages from the lake - not safe for drinking - and a dock that is no longer used by guests or family. The children who ran from cottage to cottage visiting aunt, uncles, and cousins are all grown and dispersed. One brother lives in the main house full time and others come and go.

In the morning Bill and Patty fixed us breakfast of bacon and eggs. It was hard to pull ourselves away from their many fun stories.

We got a late start so we skipped riding through the town of Little Current. But after crossing the bridge to the mainland we had to stop when we heard the bells ringing for the bridge to open. It opens every hour on the hour during the day.

Bill had given us a description of the hills we could expect along our way after crossing the bridge to the mainland. He was spot on in his assessment of the biggest hill which Rob and I agreed was our toughest so far. But the hills weren't the problem.

After posting this I received the following from a friend: 

Many years ago, I spent a stormy weekend in Tobermory harbor with friends on their sailboat. When the weather cleared, we sailed around Lake Huron for a few days, then they dropped us off on Manitoulin Island and we took the ferry back to our car in Tobermory. It was a lovely trip. My favorite memory was when we anchored in a cove at a small, unpopulated island for the night. Someone on the only other boat there played “Edelweiss” on a recorder or some such and the notes wafted across the still night. It was beautiful.