I can’t help myself around signs. Invariably I have to stop and take a picture. Reasons vary from humor to documenting locations. But viewed as a collection after the fact, they tell a good tale.

Let’s start with the obvious. As our tour jerseys state, the Liberation Cycling Tour was planned to take in the Northern Great Lakes. The bulk of our miles were spent along the shores of Lake Michigan, Lake Superior and Lake Huron, catching a part of each lake’s Circle Tour. Their shorelines were distinctly different but all shared the same expansive views of endless blue water.

We found a number of good cycling trails along the way. We were grateful for the Interurban trail, for getting us in and out of Milwaukee without dealing with urban traffic and congestion. The Pere Marquette trail kept us off a busy highway while going across the lower peninsula.The Little Traverse Wheelway was a particularly pleasant way to travel along Lake Michigan.  To mention a few.

Some roads were as good as bike trails. And particularly scenic. We didn’t need signs to tell us that.

Signs were often informative.

Or simply told us where we were.

Looking back this way already reminds me of the good times we had.  All the signs point to a very successful cycling tour.

Final Totals: 33 days, 1,418 miles

We prefer a circle route. It means constantly covering new ground and seeing new sights. This Liberation Tour followed that principle well, but our final stretch from Door County back to Milwaukee inevitably meant retracing our route. But that's not all bad. It allowed us to linger in places we admired earlier, take in attractions we bypassed and stay over in different towns.

The weather favored us in our final days. The sun returned and temperatures rose into the 60s and we even saw 70. In Kewaunee we got up early to catch the beautiful sunrise behind the lighthouse.

We had admired the USS Cobia submarine in the harbor in Luddington several times already. So after bidding farewell to Jim, as he left us to take the Badger back home to Michigan, we went to the Wisconsin Maritime Museum and took a tour of the sub. We were able to walk through it from end to end, taking in the cramped torpedoed room, where men slept sandwiched between the artillery. We saw where they ate and worked, and the engine room. It was all preserved just as it had been outfitted in WWII.

We were especially enamoured with Sheboygan Falls, with its picturesque downtown and multiple parks on the river. It offered few accommodations, we just passed through the first time. But by this stage in our trip, we were willing to spring for something special. So we booked ourselves into the historic Rochester Inn for the final night of our tour. Our lovely two-room suite had its own entrance off the side garden, and was tastefully decorated with lovely furniture and period decor. It was pure luxury compared to tired roadside motels and our tent, so we relished the space and comfort. And it seemed only fitting to snuggle in for a pizza dinner.

Cedarburg was our other favorite town on that stretch. So with only 15 miles to go, we exercised the art of slowing down and stopped at a local coffee shop for a leisurely afternoon break.

Our last leg was graced with pure sunshine and warm temperatures. A delightful way to complete a tour. Making our final turn to reach Lakeshore Drive, we could feel the cool breezes coming off Lake Michigan. The end was near. Despite having repeated some miles, we had come full circle. And finished in style.

Our days on the bikes are numbered. The quantity left qualifies as “few.” It is always a bittersweet stage in our tour.

By this point we have settled into the touring mode, and the daily rhythm of our lives is a well honed routine. No longer do we readily recall the day of the week, much less the date. Current events are fuzzy. Our priorities are how far we will cycle, where will we stay, and what food options we have. Beyond that, we focus on the scenery we pass ever so quietly and slowly. We needn't think beyond the tour.

Until now. At some point, the miles between now and the end become finite. The route turns static. And we know how long it will take us to finish. The end is in sight.

My first emotion is always a sense of loss. Soon we will turn in our status as touring cyclists, and resume our normal lives. We will no longer be unique, with an automatic ticket for conversation starters. This year's cycling jersey will be retired from active duty to assume a new identity as a souvenir.

Despite wanting the tour to go on indefinitely, a few perks begin to weasel their way into my subconscious. A little math tells me I have enough clean clothes to last the final few days. I need no longer be a slave to the drudgery of washing out my attire in the sink each night. The declining storage on my iPad may not be as traumatic as I thought. I might just squeak by with enough space for the last remaining pictures I take. I can stop being so abstemious with my shampoo and toothpaste. I'm going to have enough.

There are also things to look forward to. I may finally get a good night's sleep successive nights in a row, once I get back in my own bed. That tingling in my hand and the cramp in my foot are almost certain to go away in short order. Soon I can decide exactly what I want to eat for meals, and make it myself. I can already taste the fresh fruit and hearty whole wheat bread I've been craving. And I can get a haircut, to tame the wild frizz I've been stuffing under my helmet.

Best of all, I get to see the rest of my family again. Keeping in touch through Facebook, texts and email can only go so far. I'm anxious to hear about our kids' new jobs. Find out how Ben likes kindergarten. Give those little ones a squeeze. And just spend time with them all.

I will miss the daily miles on my bike, and the challenge of repeating it day after day. But I can now log time with my running friends. I needn't be uber conscious of the weather. If it's raining when I wake up, I can revise my workout plans. And I can even use the car and stay dry. I have a closet full of clothes to deal with the increasingly cooler temperatures, and don't have to worry about whether they will fit in my panniers.

I love meeting new people each day. Trading stories about cycling, adventures and life is inspiration for for our travels and becoming a better person. But I long to reconnect with my friends, who enrich my life and are always there for me.

Winding down is hard to do. But I think I'm going to manage.

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