Roadside Delights

Some of the best finds are the ones that appear spontaneously by the side of the road. They aren't in any tourist guides. They don't show up on Google Maps. They have no feedback ratings. They are just there, and we are in the right place at the right time. On our bikes.

It's not surprising that these stands frequently involve food. Any touring cyclist is a hungry cyclist, and particularly vulnerable to such offerings. And we are no exception. We have availed ourselves of a number of worthy delicacies through our journey along Michigan's west coast.

Farmers Markets are always a favorite of mine. The brilliantly colored fresh veggies in their attractive displays are like eye candy. And I always keep an eye out for the bakery booths, for a treat. When we happened on the market in Harbor Springs we were already well sated after a good breakfast, so it was the flowers that drew my attention. Realizing I couldn't purchase a bouquet, the vendor tucked a vivid pink chrysanthemum in my handlebar bag, where it remained to brighten the remainder of my day!

Farmers Market in Harbor Springs
Flowers for cycling

On a smaller scale, roadside stalls are just as fruitful. Along with the usual assortment of farm stands and orchard sales, I discovered another variety. Coasting through the town of Empire looking for a good resting stop, I spied a tent in a front yard. Closer inspection revealed a treasure trove of home baked goodies. It was tough to make a selection, but that lemon ginger scone was a winner.

Front yard goodies

Taking it one step smaller, we aren't immune from picking directly from Mother Nature. Apples were in abundance throughout the area, and we claimed a few that grew right on the bike trail. Attempts to scavenge crab apples were less successful, as Rich learned through several mouth puckering attempts.

Apples for the eating

Some folks simply cater directly to passing cyclists. We particularly appreciated these two humanitarian services, which need no further explanation.

Water for cyclists
Bench for pooped cyclists

We thought we'd seen it all until we reached the Straits of Mackinac. There we stumbled on the annual Truck Show. With Main Street in St. Ignace lined with hundreds of semis, we could ogle the macho machines as we cycled. But that was only the beginning. Around 9:30 that evening, those same behemoths thundered past our motel, on their way to drive over the Mackinac Bridge. Multi-note air horns blaring, engines revving and decked out in garish colored lights, they roared by one after another, and another and another… And naturally we were out there to witness this astonishing display of Americana. Just another roadside delight.

Truck show parade

 

The Long Way Around

Two peninsulas

Bike touring is all about getting from point A to point B. It is the journey. We see the countryside intensively, at a slow pace. But only right along our route. Despite our best intentions to live in the moment, we often find ourselves focused more on getting to our next destination. On this trip, and in particular in the last few days, we have endeavored to break that mold.

We had a hunch that the western side of Michigan would hold some of the best scenery, so our goal was to prevent rushing through this area. Our intentions have been assisted by the existence of small roads right along the coast that allow us to meander and linger. Peninsulas in particular offer perfect opportunities to practice this approach. It would be easy to cut across the bottom. But we have resisted the temptation.

Rich and Jim taking a break

The Leelanau Peninsula impressed us with its coastal parks and prosperous towns. The fine sand beaches and tall dunes were such a contrast to the rocky shores of Lake Superior that are more familiar to us. And we continued to be amazed to see frequent lakes and bays so close to the big lake. We were as likely to have water views inland as we were on the coast side of the road.

We ventured up the peninsula to Northport before turning down the opposite shore. Had we not done so, we would have missed a surprisingly tasty breakfast stop. Dining on eggs with a Mexican flair surrounded by a vivid yellow décor was a day brightener. Resuming cycling, we were bathed in equally brilliant sunshine sparkling on the waters of Lake Michigan. That carried us all the way down the eastern side, passing vineyards and orchards.

Old Mission Peninsula was far more of a whim. Smaller, narrower and with almost no towns, we had little reason to go there. I had to cajole Rich into doing it. And it was the best morning of cycling yet.

Molly cycling Old Mission Peninsula

Under a cloudless blue sky, we headed up the east side of the peninsula. We traveled small local roads, with barely a car in sight. Crisp cool air flowed over us and the low sun was only just beginning to provide its welcome warmth. But it's golden rays illuminated the blue of the water, the dark brown tree trunks and the rich green grass. It was an ambiance that not only encouraged loitering but demanded it.

Bald Eagle by Rich Hoeg

There is no denying that this was a wealthy area. We enjoyed gawking at the sprawling mansions with immaculate landscaping. There was an impressive array of water toys adorning the long docks that jutted out into the lake. Beautiful beach-side patios hosted colorful collections of Adirondack chairs. And bountiful fall flowers bloomed in the carefully tended gardens. Even a bald eagle graced the tall trees and obliged Rich by lingering long enough for a photo.

Crossing over the peninsula we found orchards, colorful farm markets and tidy vineyards. A picturesque marina greeted us on the other side. By then the sun was high enough to stream through the trees and reach us on the opposite side. It was the kind of morning that we wanted to last forever.

Farm Market on Old Mission Peninsula
Old Mission Peninsula

By the time we finished our loop, we had traveled 27 miles but progressed only one mile toward our destination for the day. And yet we had just taken in tantalizingly beautiful scenery. Proving it was worth it to go the long way around.

 

Start and Stop Cycling

Progress to date: 5 days, 203 miles

For once the weather forecast was right. Just when we hoped it wouldn't be. Even through the tent we could make out the lightning blips illuminating the sky. By 5:30am they were even brighter and thunder followed. It still seemed far enough in the distance that figured we had a chance of beating the storm if we acted quickly. A shout out to Jim proved he was no longer sleeping either, and he agreed to packing up while things were still dry.

It almost worked. We had everything ready to go and were about to take the tents down when the first raindrops fell. Then a few more. Then a whole lot more in rapid succession. Back to the tents, along with our gear as the storm raged in earnest. Not much to do but read or snooze in the meantime.

Ha if out in the tent
Wet campsite

It was 9:30 by the time the rains slowed. This time we got everything stowed on our bikes before it started up again. A mad dash through the campground got us to the park ranger office. There we took refuge on the porch along with our bikes. Not a bad place to be, as it had both wifi and charging stations for our enjoyment.

Plugging in at the ranger station

Our next foray was in heavy drizzle and got us almost 2 miles. Art's Tavern was our breakfast stop, and we even saw a few short bursts of almost-sunshine during our repast. By the time we emerged, we felt confident that the day was improving. At the time, it was true. And weather was not our next showstopper, but a flat tire. Still only 8 miles into our journey, we were sidelined once more as Rich changed his inner tube. Relieved to be on a bike trail not the road, we rejoiced in our good fortune along with staying dry – for the moment.

Flat tire

It's a good thing that we had already reset our sights for that day's destination. We had planned to go to the very end of the Lelenau Peninsula and stay at the State Campground there. But another night of camping no longer held the same appeal. And alternate lodgings were limited to a town just 20 miles away. As it was, it still took us the better part of the day just to get that far. Our final 12 miles were far from dry, but at least we managed the distance without further incident or delay.

Leland proved to be an interesting little town, and even more so our motel. Perched on the edge – literally – of the Leland River, we reached our room from a walkway overhanging the rushing river water. The small dam adjacent to the motel office created a man-made waterfall and a surprisingly amount of noise. Downstream, boats were moored and on the opposite bank was historic Fishtown. What used to be shanties selling everyday goods for fishermen and townspeople are now populated by boutiques, restaurants and other trendy shops. But the look and feel still harks back to the fishing days.

View from our motel
Fishtown

It was a good place to stop for the day. Our final nighttime entertainment was watching salmon try to jump up the waterfalls. Most would futilely fly through the air to flop back in the water far short of their intended target. It made for some good laughs. And yet I knew how they felt, trying so hard to get somewhere and not quite making it.

Fish jumping upstream - by Rich Hoeg

 

And then there were three

If you’re going to have a friend join you on a bike trip, it is mighty handy if he just happens to be a bike tour operator. Especially if you are in his home territory. And an all around good guy, like Jim.

We had already spent one day making our way north along the western shore of Michigan. It was enough to impress us with the Lake Michigan views and fine sand beaches. And I was enamoured with the brilliant blue-green color of the water, reminiscent of the Caribbean. We discovered that many towns were built on lakes, small bays or rivers adjoining the big lake. They frequently afforded appealing views with boats bobbing in marinas. And in between were orchards laden with ripe red apples, farm stands, peaches for sale, scenic farms and woods lining the road.

A Michigan beach
Rest stop in Onekama

Our rendezvous point with Jim was Arcadia. A tiny village, it boasted both a nature preserve and a beautiful town beach. With free time available, an afternoon for doing your own thing seemed in order. Rich eagerly headed out in search of birds in the marsh. I spent my time walking the beach with the roar of the waves in my ears and the wind on my face. We finished just in time to meet Jim for dinner, and capped off the day with a splendid sunset over the lake.

Arcadia Beach

Our morning departure as a threesome was quite a wake-up call. We had reached the coastal sand dunes, and as they rose steeply above the water, so did the road. Our initial few miles were straight up, ending at an overlook with long views up and down the coast. No one but me was willing to climb the steps to the top. But it was worth it. The low sun was just beginning to illuminate the trees below, and the clear blue skies and enhanced the deep color of the water.

Overlook at Arcadia

It was a grand day for cycling and necessitated taking time to enjoy the sights along the way. Having three people meant more interests. More ideas. More reasons to stop. A photo opp for Rich. A rest stop for Jim. A lighthouse or two for me. One looked like a toy, but Point Betsie Lighthouse was quite nice.

Point Betsie Lighthouse
We were in unanimous agreement on one thing. Ice cream. A requirement at the end of a long, hot day of cycling. Such was our mission upon reaching Glen Arbor after our 50-mile ride. Fortunately, Jim’s expertise led us to just the place – a shop where all the ice cream featured Michigan cherries!
Jim, Molly and Rich at ice cream place

We were grateful to learn that Jim was a very agreeable traveling companion. Despite the dire weather forecasts for morning, we threw caution to the wind and stuck with our plans to camp that night. For our reward, we scored the only campsite in the DH Day National Forest Campgound with a water view! The fact that they had only primitive campsites (outhouses and water faucets, period) was no problem. Our beautifully secluded spot also had beach access. With Jim leading the charge, we were soon swimming off our day’s sweat and rinsing our cycling gear all at once in Lake Michigan! I certainly never expected to swim in the lake on this trip. And had we been on our own, I’m not certain we would have taken the plunge. It’s a good thing that by then there were three.

Swimming in Lake Michigan

 

Water, Water Everywhere

Rainy cycling

We were destined to spend the day surrounded by water. The first variety came out of the sky. The weather forecast made it abundantly clear that we were going to encounter rain this morning. And it wasn't wrong. Although the skies were dry when we left, it soon began to drizzle. Rain was not far behind and continued off and on for the duration of our ride. But still, it could have been worse. The temperatures were mild enough that we didn't get cold, and the wind was light.

Our early departure worked to our advantage. By the time we arrived in Manitowoc, the rain was tapering and a strong NW wind had picked up. We both agreed that we were better off getting wet than battling that headwind. And we were glad that we had pressed onward yesterday leaving only a show trial 23 mile ride today.

Walking around the harbor in Manitowoc was pleasant and offered plenty of sights. We were fascinated by the “fishing kayaks” we saw. Powered by foot pedals and very stable, they gently maneuvered around the harbor. We even saw one such fisherman land an active, jumping fish. The Farmers Market provided a colorful contrast to the dreary day. And we were able to see the USS Cobia up close by the Maritime Museum. It is one of 28 subs built in Manitowoc that saw action in WWII. We completed our walking tour at Manitowoc Coffee, where we gradually began drying out.

Manitowoc Farmers Market
USS Cobia
Molly at Manitowoc Coffee
Rich and The Badger

The afternoon brought our second water immersion experience. In this case, we boarded The Badger and spent four hours in the midst of Lake Michgan, crossing from Wisconsin to the Michigan side. The Badger was built in 1952 to carry rail cars across the lake, which it did until 1990. Just two years later, it began its new life as a car ferry. The thick black smoke that belched from its smoke stack nearly became its downfall when new EPA regulations were enacted. However, installing an ash retention system on its coal-fired steam engines kept the ferry in business. Just this year it was designated as a National Historic Landmark, and continues to make four crossings daily in the non-winter months.

Enjoying the deck

Not long after departing from Manitowoc, the skis cleared and the day became hot and sunny. We spent most of the voyage out on deck where our clothes dried quickly in the sun. I reclined in a deck chair with my book for the afternoon. And I considered it a personal victory to be able to tolerate the waves that rocked the boat from side to side.

As the day ended, we were drawn back to the water one more time. Now in Michigan, our coastline faced west. Walking back to our motel after dinner, the sky was filled with fantastic cloud formations, highlighted by the last light of the day. And there at the horizon was the sun's finale, glowing red between lake and clouds.

From the early raindrops to the sun's retreat, it dominated our day. Water, water everywhere.

Sunset over Lake Michigan - by Rich Hoeg

 

Cycle Touring Made Easy

Starting the Liberation Tour

We've been doing this long enough to know. Every cycling trip has its good days and bad. Moments of pure joy and periods of frustration. Pleasant weather and drenching rain. If I could design a near-perfect day of cycling, Day 1 of our Liberation Tour would come really close. It contained all the essential elements for great cycling.

A good a send-off. Having nourished us with a hearty steak dinner and homemade morning scones, our son Carl and his wife Chelsea cheered us on as we cycled away from their Milwaukee home. Sun shining, cool breezes and at least 1200 miles in front of us, life on a bike felt great.

Safe riding. Exiting a major city can be a hassle to say the least. Not so this time. The Oak Leaf Trail eliminated all traffic and congestion as we pedaled through leafy green park-like environs. The smooth pavement and dedicated corridor gave us a speedy and protected ride out of town.

Interurban Trail

Cycling Trail. Somewhere along the way, that trail merged seamlessly into the Interurban Trail and our bike route continued, covering 37 of our 58 miles for the day. Unlike some trails this one ran straight through towns, making it more interesting than purely cycling through the woods. Somehow, the areas it skirted seemed to be more affluent and well kept than most. Pristine farms with freshly painted barns. Tidy pastures with longhorn cattle. Upscale townhomes with beautifully landscaped yards. Even the wildflowers were brilliant and well behaved. The trail was flanked by a railway on one side and massive utility poles on the other. But we had no complaints – for that very reason it was flat, easy cycling.

Rich on the Interurban trail
Rich at the Deli

Scenic Views. A local cyclist in Port Washington pointed us to the Dockside Deli for our mid-morning breakfast break. Sitting outdoors under an umbrella in the mild morning temperatures while looking out over the marina with Lake Michigan beyond was nirvana. Finding healthy food choices was an added benefit. Lingering came naturally.

Leisurely sightseeing. With the miles quickly gliding by, we felt in no hurry. Posing with a lawn ornament (Is this a “Purple Cow?”). Taking in the view of the river from the bridge in Cedarburg. Checking out the river park in Sheboygan Falls. Stopping to eat an apple at the Gibbsville Orchard. Plenty of time for all that.

Molly and a lawn ornament
River in Cedarburg
Stopping for a fresh apple

Delightful weather. The cool morning gave way to sunny warmth. The wind was very light and always behind us. We detected a touch of humidity and admittedly it was reaching hot by the time we finished. But who can argue with warm and dry?

We are wise enough to know this can't last. So we savor the experience and know that today cycle touring was easy. We shall see what 4 weeks of tomorrows will bring.

 

A Cycling Liberation Celebration

One of our first steps in planning a cycling tour is to establish a theme, give it a name and pick a logo.  In the past, the geographical location of our adventure has always been the focus.  Not so this time.  Our newest tourLiberation Tour Logo name is based on our life status.  Although for all practical purposes we have been empty nesters for several years, the marriage of our third and youngest child this summer has firmly established this rank.  With joyful wedding memories still vivid, we are embarking on our Liberation Tour.

Liberation Tour mapContinuing our propensity to follow shoreline, this trip will take us along the coast of the three northernmost Great Lakes – Superior, Huron and Michigan.  Taking advantage of our son Carl’s home in Milwaukee, we will depart from there and make our way by ferry over to lower Michigan.  We plan to travel the perimeter of the “mitten” with a foray into the UP to explore Mackinac Island, Whitefish Bay and Drummond Island.  When we return to Wisconsin, we hope to detour into Door County for our first visit to that scenic peninsula.

Per normal we have no detailed plans, only a vague route.  Daily distances and lodging will be decided the night before, based on terrain, weather conditions, sightseeing options and whim.  We haven’t done much research into how challenging (read “hilly”) this route might be.  Rich is convinced it will be flat.  Compared to Scotland, that’s bound to be true.  We look forward to a US tour once again, where we can follow our natural cycling rhythm minus any cultural differences.

Time and distance are pretty fluid.  The route is roughly 1250 miles, and we are allowing 4-5 weeks.  We’ve always had good luck cycling in September with fewer tourists on the road and still-mild temperatures.  And we are prepared for chillier days should we delve very far into October.  For someone who is normally highly scheduled, I look forward to the flexible nature of this trip.

Liberation Tour JerseyOur trademark custom jerseys have arrived.  The bikes are in the shop for their pre-trip tune-up.  I have my trusted detailed packing list.  It’s just a matter of dragging the panniers out of the closet and corralling all our gear.  The kids are well established in good jobs and happy marriages.  We’re ready for the Liberation Celebration to begin!

The good, the bad and the ugly

It’s easy to write about all the good stuff when we’re cycle touring.  The fabulous scenery, the interesting people we meet, the fun adventures we have.  But my friends always tell me that they most like hearing about “how it really is.”  So in the spirit of truth in reporting for our cycling tour of Scotland, here you go.

The Good

  • Coast near CullenAmazing scenery.  I just have to say it one more time.
  • We had outstanding weather.  Scotland is known for its changeable weather, as well as the cold and rain.  In 22 days, we had only one really rainy day, combined with horrific headwinds.  While the temperature never did reach 70, we had 8 days of sunshine, 3 of partial sun, 7 cloudy and 3 with a few showers.  Quite the record.
  • Scones and coffeeWhen cycle touring, it is impossible to consume as many calories as you expend.  So the sky is the limit on food consumption, and all manner of treats are allowed.  In the case of Scotland, my local favorites included McVities chocolate biscuits, scones (complete with jam and clotted cream) and cider on tap.  The Ice cream stopweather wasn’t always conducive to ice cream, but it’s a universal indulgence.
  • Despite the treats, one always loses weight when cycle touring.  Even better, inches come off and muscles are toned.  There’s nothing like coming home and finding those tight clothes fit so easily.
  • Salmon.  Lots of it.  It was on the menu everywhere.  What more can I say?
  • We always carry an abundance of inner tubes (8 between us) and one extra tire.  Normally we go through a good number of those tubes and the tire as well.  On this trip, Rich didn’t have a single flatRich fixing a flat – clearly a record for him!  I managed two flats, primarily due to rocky trails.  In the US, we have more trouble due to the retread tires on trucks.  The shoulders are littered with metal shards left behind when the tires blow.  We saw no such debris in Scotland.  (Of course, there were no shoulders either… see below).

The Bad

  • Loose Chippings signIn the US, the cyclist’s most dreaded road surface is one that has recently been “chip sealed.”  It’s the cheap way out.  Spreading the road with goo and throwing down crushed rock to prolong the life of the road surface.  Sure, if you’re in a car you just roll over it.  If you’re on a bicycle, it is a nightmare of uneven rocks that take at least a couple miles per hour off your speed.  We were dismayed to learn that Scotland has learned about chip seal.  They just call it by a different name.
  • When we scout out roads for cycling, we pay particular attention to the shoulders.  We look for paved Sheep near the roadshoulders that are wide enough for safe cycling outside the range of traffic.  Forget that in Scotland.  There is no such thing as a shoulder.  There are few markings on the road period.  Since many of them are only one lane wide, why bother?  Fortunately, traffic is often light, and sometimes confined to just the local sheep.
  • Finding cheap lodgings in Scotland was more of a challenge.  There is no such thing as a roadside motel.  The closest approximation was a guesthouse.  It was obvious that some we stayed in were more like boarding houses.  While the place was full, there was no one else at breakfast.  The cooking tended to be blasé, the carpet was worn, and heat only came on for limited periods in the evenings.  And just like cheap motels, electrical outlets were scarce.

The Ugly

  • It’s one of cycling’s facts of life.  I don’t know why, but hour after hour, day after day of cycling means a constantly drippy nose.  Perhaps it’s the wind.  Maybe it’s the exercise.  For whatever reason, a runny nose is a signature symptom of spending days in the saddle.  That’s life, live with it.
  • Some of us have more sanitary ways of handing this nose issue.  Mine is a kleenex, Rich cycling in Scotlandtucked into my handlebar bag.  But not Rich.  He has perfected the art of expressing his snot into the air as he rides.  All well and good for him.  Not so great for the cyclist behind him.  Believe me, riding in the Snot Stream is no picnic.  Especially when there is a head wind.  If he’s feeling extremely magnanimous, he might invite me to ride in the “snot-free zone.”  In that case, it doesn’t take more than 2 seconds for me to increase my cadence and fly past him to cycle in front.
  • Traveling light is of utmost importance when cycle touring.  That means the “wear one, wash one” concept of clothing is followed.  When we cycle in hot climates, we constantly hand wash our cycling clothes every other night.  With the cold weather in Scotland, we could easily convince ourselves that we didn’t sweat as much and could wear our cycling duds more days between washings.  It sure made life easier.  I’m not sure if those around us would agree.
  • For the most part, we manage to work together to plan our itinerary.  But there are those moments when we don’t see eye-to-eye.  Take our final trip to see Fraser Castle when we got mired in traffic.  I’m of the “never give up” camp.  Rich is in the “let’s be practical” corner.  We attempted to settle our differences on an isolated patch of roadside pavement.  Let’s just say it was a good thing the traffic was zooming by.  It wasn’t a quiet conversation.

Just like blog posts, the bad and ugly bits easily fade into the background in our cycling trip memories.  It’s the good that stays with us, and spurs us on to the next trip.  No doubt that will be the case with this one.  Stay tuned for our next adventure.Molly and Rich on Scotland Tartan Tour

I’ll have tea, please

There is no point in going to a foreign country if you can't adapt to local ways. Sure, it may mean doing without some of favorite foods, the comforts of home and familiar customs. But the fun is in learning about other cultures, trying new things and living life differently. Bike tours included.

Many will recall last year's tour in which several days were spent “in search of Chardonnay.” In fact, it has since defined Rich's wine preference. However, since setting foot in Scotland we have exchanged our wine glasses for pints of cider. On tap is preferred. Bottled works. Nothing tastes better after a long day of cycling. Not even Chardonnay.

Rich enjoying a cider

Little roadside motels and campgrounds have been our staple for accommodations in the US and Canada. In Scotland we have substituted guesthouses and hostels. Just like motels, guesthouses range widely in quality. For each tired guesthouse with well worn plaid carpeting, I can think of a cramped motel room to match. It's what you get when seeking cheap lodging. The hostels, however, have been a great find. Like camping, they have been some of our favorite locations. It has been well worth the more spartan and shared arrangements.

Rich in hostel

There is no arguing the fact that cycle touring burns a lot of calories. And eventually our bodies crave energy-rich foods. Rich loves to tattle on my habit of buying KitKat bars on our first long tour. While such exist in Scotland, I have switched my allegiance to my favorite biscuit. McVities Dark Chocolate Digestives. I'm on my third package already.

Chocolate digestives

The meager contents of our panniers are different for this trip. We left behind our after-cycling shorts and t-shirts in favor of pants and long sleeves. This one was less of a cultural difference than a practical one. It just doesn't get that hot here. Not even in the beginning of June.

Rich and Molly in Blackhouse hostel

Finding dinner is often a matter of locating the nearest pub. Although “pub grub” is heavier fare than I'm used to on cycling tours, it fills and warms at the same time. Somehow, it always goes down easily. The same with the hearty breakfasts and ubiquitous eggs. And where else can I get smoked salmon on scrambled eggs on a regular basis?

Kings Arms pub

Since food seems to be a central theme here, I can't leave out another local favorite – scones. With breakfast already behind us, we've been seeking out coffee shops or cafes for our breaks. I immediately case the front counter for scones. My cycling appetite often allows for jam and clotted cream as well. Might as well do it right.

Rich at the Coffee Pot on Mull

Rich and I are both wedded to our own particular source of caffeine. Coffee for me, and Diet Coke for him. But mornings in a B&B have us both singing out of the same hymnal. The British know how to do tea right. I'd rather have good tea than mediocre coffee. For Rich, the chilly weather warrants a hot drink instead of cold. For both of us, here in Scotland the refrain is the same. “I'll have tea, please.”

 

A Fraser Finish

Final Totals: 22 days, 830 miles

I don't know if I ever saw Rich's Grandpa Fraser in his kilt. But I certainly saw pictures, and knew how proud he was of his heritage. And after all, we were wearing a patch of Fraser plaid on our Tartan Tour jerseys. So it seemed a serious omission to bypass Fraserburgh on our first circuit along the north coast. Now it was time to rectify that.

Scotland is famous for its changeable weather. As we headed for Fraserburgh the warm sun of recent days was just a memory as we entered a world of fog. The vistas were gone, but in exchange we had peaceful rural scenery.

Sheep near Fraserburgh
Cow near Fraserburgh

Leaving the cycle route to continue east along the coast, we hadn't thought to check out the terrain. When the headlands reached into the clouds, we began to worry. Sure enough, more leg work was in store! Even I didn't think I could manage the steep grade, but it was mercifully short. With a heavy dose of determination along with ample huffing and puffing I reached the top.

Steep hills going to Fraserburgh
With some slack in our itinerary and to give our bodies their first rest day, we decided to spend an extra day in Fraserburgh. I'll be honest and admit it wasn't the most picturesque or vibrant place in my book. But sitting out a day of strong winds, mist and damp weather did have its advantages.
The best feature in Fraserburgh is the Museum of Scottish Lighthouses. We easily managed to spend three hours there, and learned a lot about the hard life of the keepers on the remote islands and rock lighthouses. Our admission included a tour of the adjacent Kinnaird Head Lighthouse with an extremely knowledgeable guide. It was the first lighthouse built on Scotland's mainland, erected right on top of the castle built by none other than the Frasers. A later renovation included a full lighthouse tower that rose up through the castle's great hall. Because the lighthouse was ultimately replaced by a new fully automated lighthouse, the works for the original light were left entirely in tact. We got to see it in operation, and appreciate the precision timing required for the light's unique signal.
Kinnaird Head Lighthouse
Fraserburgh does have a fantastic beach, and is a a favorite for surfers. It didn't show off particularly well on a cloudy day, but I enjoyed watching a couple of hearty surfers attempt the waves. The harbor was full of fascinating and colorful boats. Unfortunately the commercial nature of the area prevented me from getting much more than a glimpse of these craft.
Fraserburgh harbor
After a day of sluffing, I was more than ready to return to my bike. The continuing North wind finally benefitted us, blowing us across the flatter farmland to bring us back to Aberdeen. My favorite part of the journey was seeing the wind blow across the long grasses, creating moving shapes in waves across the field. They were bittersweet miles for me, knowing our tour was coming to an end.
The capstone of our Fraser tribute was to be a day trip to Fraser Castle. At only 15 miles away and sans gear, it should have been a breeze. Instead, it was an exercise in futility. While the fierce winds were aggravating, it was the heavy traffic, construction and dangerous roads that ultimately caused us to turn back. Despite a bit of friction over the decision, we managed to make peace and agree to spend the day exploring Aberdeen instead. And I finally got to use a bus shelter for its intended purpose!
Molly waiting for a but to Aberdeen
We were unimpressed with Aberdeen's busy City Center, but thankfully the information center equipped us with a walking tour of Old Aberdeen. There we found peaceful streets, wonderful old buildings, thriving university life and a great campus hangout called Grub for a snack and warm-up.
Rich in Old Aberdeen
Rich at Kings College Aberdeen
Powis Gates Old Aberdeen

Oh, and those crescents on top of these Turkish style gates at Powis House? Turns out they are the emblem of the Fraser family, who owned this estate before the gates were built. I guess it was a Fraser finish after all.