By the Shores of Gitche Gumee (Part 3)

by Doug Gordon

Sunday, July 22, 2001

Knowing that this will be my longest day on the road, I wake up even earlier and am on my way before 6AM on my clock. Since this is 5AM local time (CDT), the streets of Duluth are absolutely empty as I head out toward the "North Shore" route. Empty roads and cool temperatures are the rewards of rising early, and I enjoy both as I ride out on the divided highway to Two Harbors and then onto the two-lane portion of highway 61. There's actually some sort of "Wolf's Head Tour" motorcycle rally going on in Two Harbors (the source of the numerous Harleys that I saw/heard in Duluth), but at this hour of the morning there is no sign of either bikes or riders.

Humid weather and the cold waters of the lake also bring fog, and I am constantly riding in and out of fog banks as the road follows the shoreline closely. However, the fog is never all that thick and just adds to the variety of the experience. I'm looking forward to what I know will be the best scenery of the trip. Even though I'll be covering 500 miles today -- no great achievement by IBMWR standards -- I'll only be cruising along at 60 or so with stops at overlooks and other points along the way. It will definitely be a full day by the time I get to Wawa.

I had been looking forward to seeing the sun rise over the lake, but I forgot that the farther north you go at this time of year (and I'm above 48N at this time), the farther north the sun will appear to rise from. So, even though my GPS tells me that I am heading due northeast, the sun rises dead straight ahead of me. This is nice to see when it's in its "red ball" stage, but as soon as it breaks out above the haze on the horizon it is seriously in my face. The occasional fog bank is a welcome relief and the flip-down visor on my helmet is a big help, but still it is not too comfortable riding into the low-hanging sun. Another consequence of riding at dawn is the bug population. At one point I find myself raising the windscreen a bit so that it catches the bugs instead of getting my faceshield more splattered.

Grand Marais is a good spot for filling up both the bike and myself (and to give the sun time to rise a bit higher). At the pump, there are three choices: regular, premium, and non-oxygenated premium. Huh? On the non-oxy pump it says that is for use only in various vintage and other vehicles. Motorcycles are among those listed, so I guess that's what I should use. I then find another small local cafe (pointed out by the gas station attendant, otherwise I would not have even seen it), and after a full breakfast I'm ready to head on into Canada. Being from the Detroit area, traveling to Canada is something that I do fairly often, but all of our three choices of border crossings involve bridges or tunnels, tolls, and long lines of cars and trucks at the customs/immigration booths. So, the border crossing here between Minnesota and Ontario is a real treat. It is right out in the middle of the wilderness, being about 40 miles east of Grand Marais and 35 miles west of Thunder Bay. When I get there, there is not another vehicle in sight. The Canadian customs officer wakes up and comes over to the window to ask me the usual litany of questions. Seeing as how I am not carrrying any liquor, tobacco, mace, pepper spray, or guns, I am only stopped for about 30 seconds and am then on my way again.

The terrain along the north shore of Lake Superior is very different from that on the southern side. Whereas Michigan's U.P. is largely a glorified sandbar, this side has many rocky outcrops and exposed bedrock. The lakeshore is more likely to consist of rocky cliffs here, contrasting with the U.P.'s white sandy beaches. The sun is now fully up and there is not a cloud in the sky -- a condition that will persist pretty much the whole day. Other people have come to life now, and I wave at a few bikes that are traveling in the other direction.

Thunder Bay is the largest (make that the only) city along the highway between Duluth and the Soo. It is also dominated by an industry that is involved in some sort of wood pulp or paper products. The factory on the west side of the city has a large number of high stacks that are belching white smoke into the blue sky as I approach. It is a fascinating scene if you're into industrial landscapes. Along with this sight is the smell that I always associate with traveling along this section of the route -- a chemical odor that permeates the local atmosphere.

Above Thunder Bay, the route changes to #17 -- the Trans-Canada Highway -- and continues in a northwesterly direction toward its point of highest latitude at Nipigon. This is probably the best riding environment of the trip. I do notice that NAFTA has had an effect since I last came this way almost 20 years ago. Mainly, there are a lot more trucks on the road, and in past years Ontario had a law that trucks could not be on the road on Sundays at all. By "a lot more" I'm not implying that there was heavy truck traffic. I see maybe 10 trucks an hour going in the opposite direction. In the direction that I am traveling, I do occasionally catch up with a truck, but the highway has been upgraded with lots of passing zones in all the right places, so I never feel that I'm being held up by a truck or anyone else. Also, the speed limit is 90kph (56mph), and I'm generally travelling at about 60-63mph. Since the trucks are going about the same speed, it's rare to encounter one going my way. In fact, for most of the time, I can't see any other vehicles either ahead of or behind me, which means that I can concentrate less on traffic and enjoy the scenery that much more. In general, this road is in excellent condition along the entire length that I will be riding.

Lake Superior Overlook

I pull into a marked rest area, which turns out to be a path that leads through the trees to a scenic overlook on a lakeshore cliff. The only other vehicle back in there is an ST1100. The parking area is not exactly level, and as I start to lean the bike over to the left, I realize that it slopes away on that side and the sidestand is not going to hold the bike up. Luckily I realize this just before the point of no return, but still I just about pop a gut trying to catch it and get things back upright, hoping against hope that my left foot doesn't slip. Whew! The ST1100 belongs to a couple that started out this morning from Thunder Bay and are going in the same direction as I am. They're on the first part of a combination m/c and SUV trip. They towed the bike from Kentucky to Duluth and are now making a circuit of the lake. Later, they'll be going out to an ST rally. Then, they'll leave the bike and trailer somewhere and drive their Explorer to Alaska. Sounds like a decent way to spend your summer.

Nipigon lies almost right at 49N latitude and is as far north as my route will take me. Actually, if you look at a map of Ontario, you'll see that there is not a hell of a lot north of the highway from there all the way to the Arctic Circle. There are a few marked, named "settlements" up in the wilderness, but these are mostly hunting and fishing camps that can only be reached by the bush planes that will fly you up and land on one of the small lakes. From here, the road slants back down to the southeast, with some of the best scenery of the trip. As the road winds away from and back close to the lake, there is a really noticeable temperature difference. The afternoon temperature is up in the 80's, which is unusually hot for these parts. However, down in the low areas along the lakeshore there are occasional foggy patches coming off the lake and covering the road. Whenever I hit one of these, it feels exactly like someone just turned on the air conditioning -- really quite refreshing. This is one of those things that you lose awareness of when travelling by car, and which on a motorcycle makes you feel more a part of the environment.

There is plenty of gas and lodging along the highway, but you do have to look at a map since there are couple of 40-50 mile stretches with no services at all. However, I am usually looking for a break at somewhere between 150-200 miles, so I'm never pushing my tank capacity on this trip. At Marathon I gas up and talk to a pair of Canadian riders on Venture Royales who started out this morning at Sault Ste. Marie. They're headed for Thunder Bay, so they'll be doing about the same mileage that I'm doing today. There are tons of "Moose danger at night" signs along the road, and these guys tell me that they actually saw one a few miles back. However, by the time I pass by there are none in sight.

Between Marathon and White River I ride by a huge burned-out area. This must have been a really serious fire, as it goes on for mile after mile on the north side of the road. As far north as I can see along this stretch, there is nothing but blackened, stripped tree trunks standing. Some areas seem to have been cleared out, and some are less damaged than others, but this must have happened within the last few years, devastating many square miles. Of course, the next time I take this route, all evidence of the fire may have disappeared as the natural cycle heals the forest.

White River's claim to fame is that they have recorded winter temperatures as low as -50C (-58F). Is there any other inhabitable place in the world where the temperatures can range from -50F to +90F? Of course, right now it's in the 80's as the road heads quite a bit inland, away from the lake, and those cold temps don't sound too bad. About 20 miles from Wawa, the clear skies are interrupted by what is apparently a passing thundershower up ahead. Well, that's one way to cool off. Without thinking twice, I hit the storm, ride through the welcome rain, and in five minutes I'm back out into the sunshine again. At least the rain accomplishes what I had hoped it would -- my windscreen and faceshield are complete bug-free once more. In fact, it did quite a good job as a rolling bike wash, cleaning off the fairing as well. Does riding in the rain count as bathing? Oops, that line has been used before.

What Else? The Wawa Goose!

I arrive in Wawa, Ontario in the late afternoon. Wawa's major landmark is a huge statue of a Canada Goose on a high bluff overlooking the woods that stretch south towards the lake. Impressive, but I get to see enough of these geese and what they leave behind around our subdivision's retention pond! As I ride in, I notice that a few businesses have "Welcome Wolf's Head Tour" signs up and I hope that there is not some big rally going on. I do see more bikes that you would expect to see in a place like this, but at least there's no major event today. My motel is not air conditioned, but this is probably the one week out of the year when it would come in handy here. However, once it cools off in the evening things get comfortable.

Once again, I get a local recommendation for a restaurant and have a good meal at a place that I would probably not have tried if I judged it strictly by its exterior. Inside, there's a table of women who are conversing in French, reminding me that I am indeed in Canada. In general, there's really not that much difference between being in Ontario and being in Michigan: the language and culture are essentially the same, and many of the same brands and chains are found on both sides of the border now. Not that many years ago, things were a lot more different; I can remember when there were Canadian versions of various GM and Ford cars that had different names and styling from what was sold in the U.S. TV has also made a difference. On my last trip through here, if you had a TV at all in your motel, it might have pulled in one or two fuzzy channels from Sault Ste. Marie. Now, there's a big satellite dish in town and even my little motel room has 65 cable channels, most of which are U.S. based. Wawa just isn't as remote as it used to be. I later settle down for my last night on the road.

Monday, July 23, 2001

Waking up in Wawa this morning, I find it hard to believe that by late afternoon I'll be back in the "big city" with all of its attendant traffic and crowds. Up here in the northern wilds, I could as easily be a million miles away rather than 500. Even the news stories on the cable channels seem like they're about events that are important on another planet somewhere. It would be nice to just stay up here for a while -- at least until the money runs out!

Speaking of money, most things are very reasonably priced when converted to U.S. dollars hereabouts. This is true in Canada generally, but sometimes in remote areas things get pricey due to supply and delivery issues (such as in Alaska). The only relatively costly item is gasoline. Of course, it's sold by the liter in Canadian dollars, but after doing the dual conversion it comes out to about US$2.10 per gallon for 92-octane premium. Not that bad, in other words. You also have to watch out for the taxes. For example, I bought a Klondike ice cream bar that was marked $2.75, but it was $3.12 with tax. That's $0.37 tax on a $2.75 purchase, or about 13.5% (this is a total of US$2.04).

As I ride out of Wawa, I have about 130 miles to go to Sault Ste. Marie, which will mentally mark the end of my trip (it's just slogging on home from there). There's a large, illuminated sign on the highway once again warning about moose danger at night. Apparently there is a real problem here. Once the road gets close to the lake again, I'm treated with more elevation changes, rock formations, and views of islands and bays. Another beautiful day for a ride. I was originally planning on going all the way to the city before looking for a restaurant, but there was no coffee maker in my room today and I'm also feeling unusually hungry. I'm about 50 miles north of the Soo and in a vacation type area that has a lot of roadside motels. Many of these small motels also have restaurants, since there are no towns at all around here. I decide to stop at one that is open and has a "Breakfast Specials" sign in the window. Sitting at the counter in the cozy dining area, I have a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, potatoes and coffee. The total bill comes to $4.75. Canadian. That's barely over US$3.00! It's a worthwhile way to spend the last of my Canadian currency.

At only about 20 miles from the Soo I finally see my first four-legged wildlife of the journey as a brown bear crosses the road a couple of hundred yards ahead. I actually speed up a bit in hopes of being able to take a picture, but the bear quickly climbs the hillside and disappears into the woods. Well, it wasn't a moose but it was just about as cool a sight!

I hit Sault Ste. Marie during the mid-morning rush time, but it's really not too bad getting through there. As I'm used to, there's a bridge that marks the actual border, and it's a more impressive crossing than I remember as I go up and over into a fog bank, crossing the St. Mary's River and the famous Soo Locks operation. This is where the freighters from Duluth pass into Lake Huron and the lower parts of the seaway system. The U.S. customs official pretty much just waves me on by, and I'm back on home soil. The temperature instantly seems to rise a few degrees, and my thoughts now are just to make it a quick trip. So, I do something that I have never really done in 30 years of riding: I just superslab it all the way down I-75. It's not really that bad, as the up-north traffic is fairly light on a weekday, and there are few trucks. It does give me some input on the way that different vehicles can cause varying amounts of turbulence when you're behind them. Still, I wouldn't want to make a habit of doing my travelling on the slab.

With the clear weather and the higher speeds that I can run on the freeway, I'm home by 3PM. It's been 480 miles today, and my total trip odometer just rolls to 2001 miles as I pull into the driveway (is that significant or what?). For a trip that seemed to start out poorly, it certainly was a success and a head-clearer. I'm already thinking about what I'll do on my next journey around the big lake -- the one that the Indians called "Gitche Gumee".

Self-Portrait

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