Progress to date: 30 days, 1,258 miles

I don't know what made me say it. It just came out of my mouth. “This is my happy hat.” But it's true. The little black skull cap is the difference between being cold and miserable and feeling comfortable and warm. It's as good as an extra layer of clothes.

It's October, so it's no surprise that the weather has suddenly turned colder. But except for a few chilly days in the UP, we have had extraordinarily warm weather. As we left Egg Harbor it was in the mid 60s, one of our warmest mornings yet. We optimistically set out in light gear.

But it all nosedived from there. Not only did the temperature drop, but strong winds blew out of the west. We were battered by crosswinds or headwinds throughout the day. Although we had only 33 miles to get to Sturgeon Bay, it felt like twice that.

Despite the weather we still had a scenic ride. The highpoint for me was visiting Cave Point County Park. There the waves crashed against the shore sending impressive sprays up against the rocks. The lake's action had carved caves and canyons in the rock, and we could see water pouring out of them as each wave receded. The entire shoreline had evolved into uniquely shaped rock formations.

Rich's favorite was this “purple cow” dinosaur sighting. He quickly made friends with the natives and called for a photo shoot.

As the day wore on, we added layers of clothing and battled on against the wind. We counted down the miles. And cheered when we reached the motel.

Morning brought even colder temperatures. It was 43 degrees when we headed out to a coffee shop. And that interminable wind was still blowing. Sipping hot drinks and hoping it would warm up a bit seemed preferable to an early start. We probably gained a degree or two at most, but still benefitted from the caffeine perk. In the end, we dug deep into our panniers and brought out our full armaments. Tights, wool socks, thermal tops and full gloves. Ready to do battle.

And yes, my happy hat. Because when I'm warm, I'm happy. And so is everyone else in the group.

The essence of Door County. Can it be done in a day? On a bike, no less? We're trying.

Cycling up to Egg Harbor was quiet and tranquil. The coastal road wound through woods that hosted lakeshore homes, occasionally giving us a peak at the water. Such would be the case all over the peninsula. A sign warning of road construction hinted at trouble but instead delivered 6 miles of fresh smooth pavement. It felt like a personal bike path.

Luck followed us to our motel, triggering a rainfall after our arrival and producing a full rainbow at its completion. A colorful sunset over the harbor followed. It was a nice welcome to Door County.

We are here for two nights, allowing a full day of cycling without gear. Well positioned to explore the upper ranges of Door County. We can each do as we please, and so we divide and conquer.

Rich chooses an early morning foray into Peninsula State Park for birding. He leaves at sunrise and cycles the full circuit of Shore Road. The park is deserted at that early hour, and he finds success at locating birds.

Jim and I join forces for the day. We are eager to explore the northern end of Door County. Jim is scoping things out for a potential future trip for Bike Tour Vacations. I just want to see it all. We set off shortly after Rich.

Our plan calls for covering a lot of miles – 56 in total – which translates to sightseeing while on the move. What we sacrifice by not stopping to linger anywhere for long, we gain in distance. We leave plenty for future exploration, and come away with visual memories of sights along our route.

The western coast is punctuated with picturesque towns. Every five miles or so we can gaze at the harbors, admire the personality of the town, take in the plethora of shops and restaurants. Opportunities abound for outdoor activities both on and off the water, for those with the time to spare. There are plenty of visitors, but not enough to interfere with our cycling. In between we travel quiet lanes near the water. I decide that my favorite spot is Fish Creek, for its small town feel and pretty harbor views.

Crossing over to the opposite coast, the population suddenly drops. We are now in the countryside. Farmland is common, and we feel as though we are out where the real residents live. The towns are quieter and more humble. But no less appealing.

The day is cloudy but warm, amazing to be able to cycle in shorts and jersey in October. It is great to be on a bicycle. The perfect day to visit an orchard. My crisp, fresh apple tastes like fall.

The biggest success of the day is the carefree cycling. We have a bicycle map that shows the best roads to use, but honestly, all the secondary roads have low traffic and mostly good pavement. Distances are not great, making sights and towns easily accessible when pedaling. And there is so much to see and do along the way.

Door County in a nutshell. We definitely captured the essence of the peninsula. Now I'm ready to return to savor the full flavor some day.

 

Some things bear repeating. Having completed our circuit around Michigan, we are back in Ludington. 25 days and 1,000 miles later. It's cooler, less windy and much cloudier than the last time we were here. But not much else has changed. We stay in the same motel, and Rich requests going back to Luciano's Ristoranti for the white pizza he so enjoyed before. He's been looking forward to that for miles. (Probably about 1,000 miles…)

We have also become a trio once again. Our friend Jim has rejoined us for our final week of cycling.

Evening brings another nice sunset, and a walk out the pier to the lighthouse.

Once again we take the Badger across Lake Michigan. This time our crossing is cloudy and chilly, so the deck chairs hold little appeal. Instead, we join in for numerous games of Badger Bingo. Jim and I each manage to win a game and bring home fabulous prizes.

Now back in Wisconsin, it is time for our encore. Door County here we come!

Progress to date: 25 days, 1,077 miles

We stand alongside a country road in the middle of nowhere. I'm taking off a layer of clothes, now that it has warmed up a little.

“We're on penalty miles now,” Rich comments. Huh? By car, it is only 33 miles from Baldwin to Ludington, he explains. Our route by bike has already exceeded that. It would be 44 miles before we arrive in Ludington. “Not penalty miles,” I retort. “These are bonus miles!” Such is the difference in our personal perspectives.

Cycling across the lower peninsula, we no longer have a natural route following the coastline. Our main priority is to avoid big highways. Finding local roads that are bicycle friendly and still reasonably direct is not always as simple as it seams. I have become a great fan of Michigan's Road and Trail Bicycling Guide maps. With separate maps for each major section of the state, they are highly detailed and coded to show the amount of traffic and shoulder conditions on recommended roads. They have become my constant, well worn companion in the clear pocket in front of me. Rich, on the other hand, is a great fan of Google Maps. It suggests bicycle routes as well. Both have their follies, but between the two we are able to find reasonable routes. Usually.

We had great help in the middle of our traverse by using the Pere Marquette State Trail. The paved sections were marvelous, and although skeptical at first, we found the crushed limestone portion to be very passable. In all we covered 56 miles using that trail.

On either end, we chose local roads as best we could. Today's ride was engineered to avoid highway 10 and find breakfast in the middle. It meant traveling first well below the highway, crossing that busy road to reach a friendly little diner, then detouring north to find the closest paved road to continue west to Ludington. Taking a few unknown roads meant assuming some risk. And there were times when we guessed wrong and ran out of pavement. But that wasn't always bad. We passed through some pretty forested area on a fairly smooth dirt road.

While we haven't had coastal views while traveling across the state, there has been some nice pastoral scenery. And other compensating attractions. The sun even came out yesterday morning, much to our delight.

I don't mind traveling the extra miles for quiet roads, nice scenery and sightseeing opportunities. For any reason, really. Rich is usually more interested in taking the most efficient yet practical routes. One way or another we manage to find a compromise, somewhere between penalty and bonus.

Progress to date: 23 days, 984 miles

Dear God,

Please don't think I am ungrateful. We have had a wonderful bike tour so far. We've come almost 1,000 miles safely and seen the beauty of your world here in Michigan. You have sent friendly and fascinating folks for us to meet, and generous Warm Showers hosts to house and feed us. We remain strong and healthy, able to cycle miles and miles each day to get to our next destination. Indeed, we are most truly thankful.

But I do have one tiny request. Might you possibly find a way to intervene with the weather? The dreary skies, drizzle and outright rain are kind of getting to us.

We've been lucky to dodge the major rainfalls over the last week. I'm sure you had a hand in getting us to the motel yesterday just before it came down in buckets. We were mighty glad to be warm and dry while it poured for the rest of the afternoon and evening. We did dash across the street to get some snacks. And we made the best of the wet evening, playing Words With Friends while sipping wine in our motel room. Thank you for allowing Michigan to sell fine wine in gas stations.

I'm certain you want us to admire your creation. We're trying. We passed through some beautiful countryside this morning, but it was hard to take the time to truly appreciate it. Between dodging puddles and trying to avoid car spray we had to stay pretty focused on the road. And peering through rain speckled glasses detracted significantly from the scenery. I did enjoy the quiet country lane that wound through some lakes, the gently rolling hills and the very beginnings of fall colors on the trees. When we passed the apple orchard, I could smell the fresh donuts, and imagined how good their cider must taste. I would have stopped if we weren't anxious to finish our wet ride.

I know we are not the only ones inconvenienced by the rain. We saw a number of Amish buggies today. Their dark square outline would materialize out of the mist and take the full shape of horse and carriage as we approached. They always returned our wave, perhaps pleased at our mode of non-motorized transport. They all seemed to be covered in blankets, huddled behind the horse. It seemed a most wise idea.

I wish I had more photos to share with you. But wet weather does not encourage stopping or getting out a camera. We did however get this one of the wonderful Pere Marquette State Trail that we rode for the last half of today's miles. While we often prefer roads for their more varied sights, riding this trail was perfect for the rainy conditions. We didn't mind in the slightest that all we saw was greenery, and the flat, smooth, traffic-less pavement sped us on to complete our ride.

I realize that a week of clouds and rain is not the worst thing we could endure. Perhaps we got really spoiled when we cycled in Scotland, a very wet climate, and had less rain than this. But I sure would appreciate it if you would send us a bit of sunshine. We will continue cycling either way. And love you just the same. It would just be a whole lot nicer that way.

Amen

It seems an obvious choice. But my answer is not. It came to me while cycling today. (There is a lot of time for thinking while cycling all day long.) Given the choice between a cushy B&B or a simple resort, which would I prefer? On a cycling tour, I'd take the resort.

Being pampered at a B&B is certainly appealing. The attractive surroundings, comfy beds with luxury sheets and the sumptuous breakfast are hard to beat. It feels quite incongruous, though, dragging in my grubby panniers, peeling off sweaty cycling gear, and appearing in my single well-worn non-cycling outfit. And it's hard to adopt the leisurely attitude that makes the whole experience worthwhile. Instead of relishing the rich, unhurried breakfast, I am itching to get on the road before the whole morning is gone. It just doesn't suit the rhythm of our cycling trips.

Resorts, on the other hand, have become our splurge. And often they really aren't any more expensive than a motel. We've discovered than many small resorts have motel units in addition to their cabins. In that case, we get the view, the ambiance and amenities of the resort for the cost of a room which is very reasonable.

Traveling off-season definitely has its advantages. In September and now October, accomodations have been easily available, and resorts are willing to rent for a single night. At times, when the in-town motels are full, by looking outside of town we are able to find room in a resort. Just by thinking a little out of the box. In addition, we are now getting some off-season rates. Tonight we have a three bedroom cabin on a small lake for little more than we have paid for some motels.

If all else fails, we can justify the extra cost by cooking our own dinner. It can be a challenge finding ingredients that work with what facilities we have (the motel units are particularly tricky, without kitchens). In addition the local food shops may not carry a big selection. But that's half the fun.

Breakfast, too, adds to the savings equation. The ingredients are easy. A box of cereal and a jug of milk. No dishes? No problem. We carry sporks, and every room comes equipped with a small coffee pot. Voila, a pot of cereal!

But apart from the economics, I simply enjoy the resort atmosphere. There is no substitute for sitting by a lake. There's space to wander around and opportunities for more outdoor activities. We've gone out in a rowboat, and gathered around a bonfire. Even in poor weather, it's soothing to be near the water. It's far more satisfying than sitting in a tiny motel room with no view.

We finished cycling early this afternoon due to the dreary, wet weather. I'm so glad we have space to spread out, ducks to watch on the lake and very peaceful surroundings. Soon we will start a roaring fire in the fireplace. Wine is chilling in the fridge, and we have an “interesting” dinner planned. No, this is definitely not the last resort for us. In fact, tomorrow night we've already booked a room in a fishing lodge. It was an easy choice.

“A place just for people?” my granddaughter asks? “Yes, Mya, no cars. Only people, bicycles and horses,” I reply by phone. She thinks that is pretty cool. So do we. We are no longer among the minority, here on Mackinac Island.

Stepping off the ferry it is immediately obvious. There are bicycles everywhere. Parking spaces along the street are filled with them. Parking lots are for bikes, not cars. We may not have to watch out for cars, but there is plenty of cycling traffic to keep us vigilant.

The island claims the only state highway that bans motor vehicles. Cycling M-185 around the island is delightful. It rings the island, providing flat, family friendly cycling immediately adjacent to the water. There we see cyclists of all sizes and abilities. We share the road with three wheelers, tandems, kid trailers and single speed bikes. Not another loaded touring cycle in sight. This is leisure cycling at its best. When Rich tries to press on, I repeat back to him a phrase he used on me just yesterday. “I am in absolutely no hurry.”

A visit to the Grand Hotel is definitely in order. Its elegance is evident in its famous long front porch and perfectly manicured grounds. Where I once remember a clover-leaf shaped swimming pool (most impressive to a kid) now is covered in landscaped gardens. Beautiful, but honestly I miss the swimming pool. We are only allowed up to the hotel's perimeter without being hotel guests or forking over $10 apiece. So we stand back and gaze. We are also not up to the After-6 dress code: Men are required to wear coat and tie, women may not wear slacks. No mention of cycling shorts.

I would be remiss if I did not include the horse drawn carriages that abound in the town. They are majestic, and well adjusted to cyclists, fortunately. We are surprised to see that one stable offers self-drive carriages. The idea is rather frightening, actually. Mya is thrilled to hear that one might also ride horses there. That appeals to her already well-developed love for horses.

Ultimately, the ferry whisks us away and swoops under the 5-mile long Mackinac Bridge for a close up view of its suspension span. It's an impressive reminder that we are returning to normal automobile inhabited territory. So long, cycling haven. It was nice while lasted.

Progress to date: 16 days, 672 miles

People often ask us, “How far do you cycle each day?” The best answer is, “It depends.” When we are cycle touring, we rarely plan more than a few days in advance. That way we aren't tied down to a fixed schedule, and can be more spontaneous in deciding where we will go. A lot of different factors go into the decision. Some are deliberate and calculated, others more intuitive. And some cause friction. Here is a sampling:

• Food and Lodging – what is available in the upcoming towns? This one's a biggie. Even though we can camp, we don't cook or carry food so we need to be able to get meals in addition to finding a bed. In remote areas, this can easily limit our choices, either stretching our distance or cutting it short. Alternately, we may find a nice place we'd like to stay, and finagle the distance to make it work.
• Weather – what is the chance of rain? We are willing to get wet, but we see no reason to slog through hours of downpour if we can help it. We may choose to shorten our mileage in order to start late or quit early to avoid misery. Headwinds slow us down, and may also limit how far we can get.
• Terrain – are there a lot of hills? Significantly hilly areas, particularly if they are steep and challenging, require a lot more effort. Slower progress and more tiring equate to fewer miles. Poor pavement also impedes progress, taking a mile or two off our speed.
• Sights to see – are there places worth visiting? Time spent sightseeing has to be carved out of our cycling time. Significant stops require much shorter distances, maybe even a day off cycling.
• Our bodies – are we in need of rest? We are hopeless about taking rest days. For me in particular, it goes against my nature. But occasionally we need it. Sometimes we fudge by taking a “rolling rest day,” cycling only 10-20 miles at a leisurely pace and calling it rest.

Taking all that into consideration, we average somewhere around 45 miles a day. We generally cycle at least 30 and rarely do more than 65.

Right now non-cycling factors seem to be taking priority. Knowing there was a lot to see and do at Whitefish Point, we stayed two nights in Paradise and made a day trip (without gear!) just 11 miles up the road to Whitefish Point. The beautifully sunny weather encouraged us to linger there most of the day. Naturally, the lighthouse and the Shipwreck Museum were a draw.

The area also includes a bird sanctuary. I am certain that was of more interest to Rich than the lighthouse. But I was perfectly happy to spend time on the beach, lingering among the sand and waves while he looked for birds. Unfortunately, not much was happening on the birding front, but I took up a new hobby and left my own mark on the coastal scenery.

Making our way to Macinac Island, we knew we wanted to spend time exploring the island. That and finding Twin Cedars Resort was reason enough for us to break our journey en route. Not only have we had a relaxing afternoon and evening at the lake, but we will have plenty of time for the island tomorrow.

How far did we go today? A mere 37 miles. It's tough for my hard core (can't we do more?) cycling mentality to admit, but it was the right amount. It's been a great day.