Sitting here, cleaned up, the dust of the road rinsed from my sole. Or is that soul?
Lets start over.
Sipping a tall Coors, eating my ramen, wondering with all these talents how am I still single? I just rode one thousand miles in a weekend. I'm awesome and tired and worn out like an old leather shoe; tired from the miles.
Now I understand that there are people out there that do this in a day, or put on lots more miles going to Sturgis or whatever but the first time you do something significant should be of note. So lets everybody just close our eyes and think back to their first...
Okay I give up lets just talk about motorcycles! 2016 Honda Goldwing F6B Deluxe. Damn near new. I love my job. Sometimes. I asked for some keys and they actually gave them to me, granted I have been riding motorcycles since college and have pretty good training along with owning my own motorcycles so I suppose they had some small reason to let me take it.
Its black. Its got 6 cylinders. Its got five gears? Its got cruise control!
How this whole thing got started is simple: I forgot my mother's birthday. But don't tell her that! So I decided to go for a motorcycle ride to get out of Dodge and see some countryside I had not seen in a while: The Keweenaw Peninsula of Michigan! Having spent summers there as a child I never get tired of visiting but this would be the first time on a motorcycle.
I have dreamed of doing more long distance cruising, but my Indian Chief really wasn't what I had in mind for the job, but this black road missile looked the part: Part 3 parts Goldwing, one part CBR. My kind of cocktail.
I headed north towards God's country after lunch on a Friday. All I had packed was two pairs of socks, my toothbrush, and a hat. Actually that's not true but it sounds good. I burned up the Interstate for about an hour before taking off to the east and into the northwoods. I only had to make it to Michigan which should be about 6 hours away. Unless you take the back roads but lets be honest; Interstates are so boring and straight, it can be painful to ride them. This nimble beast of a machine loved being thrown into corners, The weight of it making it feel planted and sure. Only one time on the whole trip did I feel the weight pushing the bike outward which was my own fault and not the bike! The mini-windscreen and fairing offers the body all of the protection of a long-haul cruiser while still leaving your helmeted head out in the breeze so you get a much more raw feel.
I carved towards Michigan, stopping only to empty the ladder and occasionally fuel up. I had a quick vegeburger dinner in Ironwood, booked a hotel room online and headed into the woods once more. Unfortunately the stretch from Ironwood to Houghton Michigan has few reasonable options for roads once the sun has set and wildlife is abundant, in particular right around sunset. My timing was not ideal in this respect. Luckily I only spotted one deer across this stretch, I tried to stay near cars during this piece as the last thing I want to do is hit a whitetail when they are just starting to grow antlers. If I am taking a deer down with a motorcycle it better be Ole Mossyhorns!
Saturday morning arrived, a sticky 65F outside but the sun was shining bright! After some mediocre hotel breakfast I was ready for the fun section: touring the Peninsula. I left Houghton about 10am, and headed up the northwest face of the Keeweenaw. The roads are some of the best I have ridden. Does the Tail of the Dragon have amazing views of the water? Does Highway 1 have stinky rotten seaweed? Do the Black Hills have...um...The end of the road?
Huzzah! A brisk ride up the rocky and sometimes remote coast will leave you just outside of the Mountain Biking meca of Copper Harbor at, you guessed it, the end of the road. While physically this is not the end of the road; adventure riders can continue eastward all the way to the very tippy tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula if they want. Sealed surface riders will have to be happy with a turn-around and a big sign. It's worth it.
Turning the bike homeward from the end of the road did not mean I was anywhere near home, it was simply lunch times o I went to the beach! I swam in Lake Superior and it was amazing. Just as I remembered it; cold as balls. As the kids say these days. I had some water and ate some carrot cake muffin. See what I was saying about being single? Hard to believe.
I headed south, this time along the eastern shore of the keweenaw. This is a much less traveled route, and the pavement lets you know. There are lots of little pull-offs and lunch stops along the route though, and if you make it all the way south you can even stop at the famous Gay Bar. At this juncture I had seen what I came to see near the lake so I crossed the lift bridge, had a pastie for an early dinner and headed southwest. On the northern route I had stayed inland as there had been wind warnings along the lake, but now I was headed the opposite direction and I hadn't even looked at a forecast in two days to tell me otherwise so I took the much more scenic lake route. From Houghton heading south-west you go through lots of fun little towns; Rockland, Ontanogan, Silver City and finally you arrive at the Porcupine Mountains State Park. Here the State Highway ends, and the South Boundary Road begins. This is a hidden gem of a road. I am reticent to even mention it here so as to keep it peaceful and serene as I found it this weekend. The asphalt does leave a little to be desired, but the turns and undulations make up for it. The Honda purred to life and headed away from the lake and I turned off my music so as to enjoy every last ounce of the road and the scenery. At the southern end I stopped and dipped my feet in the Presque Isle River. Sadly I did not have time to go to the visitor center so a the view from the bridge would have to do.
Around this time I realized that my goal of reaching Ashland, WI was going to happen, so I hopped on the phone when I got to Ironwood and was shocked at the hotel prices. So I made a call and arranged to crash in a guest room in Duluth instead. Its only another hour plus past Ashland...
At this point I should mention something about riding in the upper midwest in the summer: Bugs. Not big Junebug things, tiny flys and mosquitos. I had to stop three times between Ironwood and Duluth to clean my visor. I don't know how you guys without face shields do it. The front of the Honda also appeared to be a buffet of flat bug snacks by the end of the first night, and only got better over the weekend. So despite the quick stops along the route I made it to Duluth by 11pm and zonked right out.
Sunday morning: The last morning before work happens again. Coffee is a necessity today. I think about making a nice breakfast but all I have is peanut butter on toast. Somehow I don't feel that hungry knowing that this is the last day. Once I finnish breakfast I decide that the Bayfield Pennisula, though a large backtrack is the goal for the day. Not as spectacular as the Keweenaw perhaps but it looks less likely to rain there the alternative North Shore. I fuel up, grab waters and trail mix, and away I go. Highway 13 runs around the perimeter of the Bayfield pennisula and takes you through most of the cute little coastal (former) fishing villages as well as the more developed Bayfield area. I stop for a stretch at the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore park at Little Sand Bay. It is a busy campground and launching point for many intrepid kayakers, as well as fishing boats. I think part of my mind wants me to keep walking around since each time I get back on the bike I am getting closer and closer to home and normalcy.
I continue the Penninsula loop and fuel up in Iron River. A quick lunch and I am off to Brule, where I head south into Pine Barrens country. The road is much straighter than I remember it being through here, but still spectacular scenery. My neck and back ache, my bum iches, my feet are going a little numb at times. Maybe being back home isn't the worst thing to happen today. As I approach the Minnesota border the traffic picks up, I get to flex the Honda's power a little getting around slow moving traffic. That breaks up the monotony of the final stretches.
I have this idea in my mind that I am going to pull in the driveway, throw the kickstand down and flop down on my lawn and just sprawl out. It sounds like a movie scene. When I do finally pull in the drive I don't fling myself to the ground though. I just, like a robot on a pre-programmed setting, open the garage door, slowly pull the bike inside, go check the mailbox, unload the bags, and go inside. I peel off my monkey suit. Find a cold beer in the garage fridge and stand in the doorway looking out at the sunny afternoon in my driveway. Gym shorts, dirty smelly Tshirt and flip-flops I take a slow walk around my block. I wave to the neighbors but I'm too tired to talk or introduce myself, they probably think I am crazy. They probably are right but I did something for the first time this weekend and I am proud of it.
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| Sometimes you just have to take it all off and go swimming. |
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| In case you were wondering... |
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| Since I was not tenting, packing was very light. I think my rain suit was the single bulkiest item. I could have gotten away with much less if I really was feeling adventurous. |
