Tag Archives: Travel

Just in time Cycling

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The ferry to Grand Portage was a totally different experience from yesterday’s boat from the Michigan side – in more ways than one. First of all, it was a much different boat. This was the U.S. Mail boat, not primarily a passenger vessel. It was a lot smaller and was a 2-person low key operation. Highly efficient and seaworthy, but bare bones. Secondly, in addition to making mail quick stops around the island, it also picked up and dropped off hikers from various points on the island. Hence, it clung to the shore and made numerous stops on the island before heading back to the mainland. In fact, the actual crossing took less than two hours out of our 6 1/2 hour trip. And finally, and most importantly, I felt just fine. Hurray!!! The winds were much less, and the most we had were 1-3 foot swells, with much of the trip being even calmer than that. It was so nice to be able to enjoy the trip this time.
Molly on the ferry - feeling good!It was a long day on the ferry, and highly relaxing given the slow nature of the trip. Venturing into the inlets to pick up hikers was very pretty, and traveling the deep recesses into the island reminded us of the archipelagos of Scandinavia. Beyond that we entertained ourselves by talking to other passengers, trading our cycling stories for their hiking tales. We did quite a bit of reading, but I will admit to doing more snoozing than reading. Unlike yesterday, the boat’s motion kept lulling me to sleep. I didn’t mind a bit.

It was close to 4:00pm by the time our bikes were unloaded from the boat and we were ready to head down the North Shore. After hours of forced inactivity on the boat, it felt good to be doing something physical again. We had renewed energy in our cycling, pushing the pace faster than usual. We were pleased to find that that section of highway 61 had enormous shoulders, which lasted all the way to Grand Marais. Given the late hour, this was not the day to stop for sightseeing. But there were plenty of lake views in that section of the North Shore to welcome us back to Minnesota.

Try as we might, we couldn’t ignore the rain clouds overhead which dropped a few sprinkles on us. Soon they were producing lightening strikes over the lake. When the rumbles of thunder became closer and more insistent, we pressed on even harder. Rain began to fall In earnest as we entered Grand Marais. Before we got too wet, we found our motel, checked in and stashed our bikes in the room. Just minutes later, heavy thunderstorms and rain blanketed the area. Boy, did we time that right! Even better, after showering and settling in, the rain let up and allowed us to go out for dinner, make a trip to DQ and walk around the harbor.

The trip seems to take on a different feel from this point on. Our long distances are behind us, as are the hills. So it feels like we can practically coast home. In addition, we are now on familiar territory. No more surprises in our route – we know what the North Shore will throw at us. That is both reassuring and a disappointment. Seeing new places and exploring different parts of Lake Superior has been a highlight of the trip. It’s different cycling it than driving it in a car though, and I’m sure our remaining two days will provide us with ample experiences. And heaven only knows what must-see sights Rich will find along the way.

I’d Rather be Cycling

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Our day off. We had a respite from cycling to take the ferry from Copper Harbor to Rock Harbor on Isle Royale National Park. Rich was like a little kid, he was so excited. It was his first time on Isle Royale and he’d never crossed the middle of Lake Superior before. My anticipation took a slightly different angle. I was looking forward to returning to Isle Royale after a visit 40 (ouch!) years ago. And I was game to take the ferry, even though I have consistently been prone to seasickness. After all, it was an adventure.

The first sound I heard upon waking this morning was the lines of a nearby sailboat clanking against the mast, and the wind whistling through our open windows. I chose to think positively and put my faith in the Bonine that I took prior to boarding the boat. The sun was shining, we watched in amazement as they hoisted our bikes, panniers and all, with a single hand up to the top storage deck, and mingled with the hearty hikers boarding the boat.

It was a four hour crossing, and I made it less than an hour inside the cabin. As soon as we cleared the harbor, we were in deep swells. I watched wide-eyed as the horizon alternately dipped then rose out of sight on the opposite side. Wow, I’d never been in seas like this before! But my confidence remained high, and surprisingly I was not scared as the boat pitched and tossed at wild angles. Before long, however, I took stock of my body and gamely trained my eyes on the horizon on our side of the boat. It was much more stable in comparison. But the water won.

Soon I was dashing out the door onto the back deck of the boat. There I firmly gripped the railing and leaned over the side as advised by the crew. When that first wave of retching subsided (and it was only the first of many) I determined that I was there to stay. I firmly planted my feet apart, tightened my noose-like hold on the railing, and set my sights on the disappearing Michigan mainland straight being us. I used my legs to absorb the sway of the boat, desperately working to keep my upper body as verticle as possible. The fresh air that blew around me felt good, if only it hadn’t been tainted by diesel fumes.

It was an interminable three more hours. I found weak fascination in watching the clashing waves and gusty spray that created myriad patterns behind the boat. But that’s about all I had to engage my brain. Looking left or right was not an option, nor was talking. Not that my companions were interested in lively conversation. I had plenty of company out there, all in the same state. It’s no wonder, as we were in 6 foot swells. The crew described it as “worse than average” but not out of the norm for this time of year. If standing under the trees shivering in the pouring rain was miserable, this was abject agony. I would much rather have been cycling, even struggling up the steepest hill.

Rich suffered no such affectation, wouldn’t you know. On his visit out to commiserate with me, he was bouncing all around, looking at everything and clearly enjoying himself. All I wanted was to block him from my peripheral vision – I couldn’t handle the additional motion. He spent time out on the front deck, hanging on for dear life, getting hit by the spray, but loving it. I had to rely on his pictures to relive the scenic entrance to Isle Royale after the fact.

It took a nap and a few bites of salty crackers to restore any semblance of normalcy once we reached shore. But I was relieved to rally enough to get outside to explore our small area of the island and take a canoe out with Rich to paddle the pristine waterway in Tobin Harbor. Ironically, I didn’t mind being back out on the water. It was flat and calm there, and shore was only a few strokes away. We paddled in search of the cabin still owned by a friend, the last generation of his family to be allowed to hold private property in the park. In the vast expanse of wilderness here, we saw little harm that the remaining cabins posed.

Isle Royale is a beautiful place. Its deeply forested terrain and rocky shores bordered by deep blue waters were especially nice on a sunny, warm day like today. I would like to have gotten out for a short hike, but Rich was dedicated to keeping it a rest day, and certainly my body needed it. So like the other lodge guests, who are staying in relative luxury compared to the hikers, we took advantage of the amenities while still appreciating the nature all around us.

Tomorrow it’s back to cycling again. But not until I brave another ferry ride over to the Minnesota side. Some travelers who arrived on that boat today clued me in to the first mate, Kirk. They vouched for him as a venerable seasickness coach. Kirk, I’ll be looking for you tomorrow morning.

Best cycling yet – Coastal Bliss

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We both agree. This was our best day of cycling yet. Instead of being another long ride to complete the next leg of our journey, it felt more like a pleasure ride. And we loved every minute of it.

So what made it so special? Hugging the coastline. It was infinitely relaxing to cycle along with beautiful views of Lake Superior. We relished the small local roads that were devoid of traffic. And the weather gods favored us today. With forecasts of zero percent chance of rain, westerly winds to help push us along our way, and sunshine for most of the day, we had it made. It doesn’t get much better than that for cycling.

We first followed the waterway that leads from Houghton out to Lake Superior on the western side of the peninsula. The final vestiges of the morning’s fog burned off as we rode and revealed calm waters and sun soaked dwellings and boat houses on the opposite shore. Everything was bathed in the golden sun of morning, leaving a feeling of peacefulness.

The western shoreline offered plenty of scenery. We enjoyed seeing the wide variety of lake homes, cottages and mansions that lined the shore. Parks seemed to be frequently interspersed with the private lands, offering us opportunities to explore the beach, watch waves come crashing in, and take dozens of pictures. We found several lighthouse to check out along the way. And there was an historic bridge to see, although we were more fascinated with the arched wooden architecture of the newer replacement bridge. Waterfalls cascaded down the hillside and under the road. And there was always the big lake. As we neared Copper Harbor, the sandy beaches gave way to rockier shores, more like home.

Our route had just one minor flaw. It forced us inland for a short distance, and that could only mean UP. We knew it was coming, we just didn’t know how bad it would be. When we rounded that corner, we could see the road rising in front of us. Not traversing the incline on an angle, not meandering, straight up. And I’m convinced that the sun chose just that time to beat down particularly fiercely. It took our lowest gears and a lot of pedal rotations, but we made it! Two and a half miles. However, on the flip side, we seemed to get a lot of mileage out of that rise in elevation. On our return to the shore, we got the longest drawn out downhill coast back to the water.

Now anyone who has read any of my previous posts about this cycling tour knows that treats are a required element of each day’s travels. While we normally favor ice cream or smoothies, today when faced with a cute little bakery in the curve of the road we just had to stop. But little did we know that The Jampot was more than just an ordinary bakery. It was the outlet for the labors of the Society of St. John Monastery, which was founded on the nearby shore by a small group of monks in 1983. Their initial penchant for picking wild berries and baking soon turned into a venture able to support their little community. We were served by a pleasant monk who happily described the plethora of decadent flavors of muffins, and left with a heavy bag of goodies. Only half of them made it into my panniers…

Our little motel in Copper Harbor was ideally situated right on the water, with a picturesque view of the harbor. What a great choice! We even had a back deck in a garden setting where we could relax and enjoy the view. Rich chose to use that spot for a different purpose… repairing a flat. In keeping with today’s theme of perfection, his back tire chose to deflate at the entrance to our motel. Even the first equipment failure did not blemish our cycling.

It’s a good thing that tomorrow is our “day off” from cycling. It would be difficult to top today’s ride.

Cycling with Mother Nature

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We operate by our body clocks. We were up at the usual early hour, but lost an hour to the Michigan time change. It seemed strange that the sunrise was just after 7am, but we enjoyed watching it from our beach just the same.

Today we cycled coast-to-coast across the Keweenaw Peninsula and then up the eastern shore to Houghton. There is not a lot of population on the peninsula, so I decided to focus my camera on the beauty of the nature we encountered along the way.

Sunrise over the western shore of the peninsula at Ontonagon.

We have been enamored with the windflowers blooming along the roadside throughout our trip. My favorite are the purple blossoms.

Fall colors are definitely beginning to show in the maple trees.

Fantastic clouds formulate over pastoral farmland in the interior of the peninsula.

Tall pine trees line the road going north from Baraga to Houghton.

The eastern shore, cycling along Keweenaw Bay.

We experienced another aspect of Mother Nature as well today. After having been blessed with sunshine throughout our trip so far, our luck ran out less than 20 miles short of our final destination. We thought we had out-biked the rain, leaving a few thin showers behind us, but that was nothing in comparison to the squall that slammed into our path. Within a matter of minutes, the temperature plummeted, sheets of rain came pouring down and gusts of wind blew right into us. Fortunately, Rich spotted a thick grove of pine trees across the road. We dashed over there and huddled in the relative protection of the trees waiting for the rain to subside. I was amazed at how well sheltered we were in comparison to the torrents falling on the road. The rain did indeed abate allowing us to resume our ride, although it was wet and chilly cycling (Rich called it “miserable”) and semis showered us with roadspray. Then just as suddenly the sun returned. The amazing warming power of the sun was such that when an ice cream stand materialized on the side of the road, we didn’t hesitate to stop. Two huge blackberry smoothies were happily consumed as we parked ourselves on a picnic bench and basked in the sunshine. Mother Nature wooed us back into her good graces that easily.

Wilderness Cycling

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I have to compliment my tour planner and co-cyclist, Rich, on today’s route. It was stunning! If you like wilderness and quiet scenery, this is the itinerary for you. And I think even Rich was awed by the perfection of today’s ride. In fact I know so – he said as much!

After a necessary 10 miles on Highway 2, we turned away from traffic and civilization and headed into the wilderness. The first 15 miles were on a road leading to the Porcupine Mountains Wilderness State Park. It could have been a bike path. We shared the road with only a few passing cars and traveled undisturbed down the tree-lined lane as mile after mile of smooth pavement uncurled in front of us. We were prepared to find hills, which we did, but most were reasonable grades alternating between up and down.

We then turned onto South Boundary Road, which traverses the perimeter of the park. Our near-solitude continued as did our appreciation of the sun, the trees, the rivers and the wilderness. Having hiked in the area, we had vivid memories of clambering down and up the steep sides of the ravines in our path. We were relieved to find that road construction techniques alleviated such dips. Nevertheless, the road began to climb steadily, and looking into the distance we could see the high ridge of trees defining the summit – a sobering sight. It was a solid 10 miles uphill, mostly a gentle grade, but a challenging pitch at times. It gave us great pleasure to top the hill and begin our descent, which lasted 15 miles. We faced a strong headwind as we neared Lake Superior, but had no complaints mixing that with our downhill rush.

We rejoiced to see Lake Superior in the distance, and the view upon arrival was impressive. The pristine sand beach was enhanced by trees and white crested waves rolling into shore. What a difference from the rocky coastline we are accustomed to on the North Shore, yet beautiful in its uniqueness. Our final 15 miles closely followed the shore. Our view of the lake disappeared when private land intervened, but the water was close enough that we could get a glimpse of it down the driveways and periodically between properties. For us it was enough to know the great lake was there. Traveling lakeside also had the advantage of being blessedly flat. This time at the end of the day we left the hard work behind us and glided up to our motel near Ontonagon.

This trip just keeps getting better.

Cycling sights – a purple cow?

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It felt a lot milder when we set off from Bayfield this morning, and indeed at 52 degrees was nearly 10 degrees above yesterday’s start. We saw a beautiful sunrise over Lake Superior and enjoyed a quiet ride alongside the lake down to Ashland. It was a good start to day 2 of our Trans-Superior Cycling Tour.

Not even the early morning hours can deter Rich from his tourist stops. This morning as we passed what appeared to me to be a junkyard, he shouted out, “Look! A purple cow!”. Surely he wasn’t going to stop for that? I should have known better. He eagerly dragged me back to see this creature, which stood among other large scale wood carvings, and required a picture. Before we could make our retreat, we were scrutinized by a man who materialized in the drive. Once he determined that we were harmless, he offered to show us around his father’s studio. He led us back to a fairy tale-like set of buildings in a garden setting, and a workshop full of intricate carvings. Who would have guessed? Perhaps Rich’s weird taste has merit now and then.

Along our way we discovered a distinct phenomenon. Each rise brought us nice warm air, and on each downhill the temperature plummeted. Soon I felt as chilled as yesterday! I eagerly anticipated the hot breakfast that awaited us somewhere in Ashland, and was ultimately rewarded with hot coffee and pancakes. We exited the restaurant to an entirely different day. The looming clouds overhead had dissipated, leaving sunshine in their wake. Once we turned inland, away from the lake, the temperatures rose quickly and we cycled through a real summer day. We had a solid tale wind, which provided little relief from the warmth, but we readily traded that for the extra boost it gave us.

I have decided that each day’s cycling on this trip poses a unique challenge. Today’s was highway miles. I knew we had 40 miles of cycling along Highway 2, which is a main thoroughfare, and was apprehensive about the traffic. It then became 50 miles when our alternate route to avoid a section of highway was torn up for repair. Thankfully, my fears were for naught. A large portion of the distance was on new pavement with wide shoulders, the traffic was very reasonable, and trucks gave us a wide berth whenever possible. Probably the larger downside was that it was a long, straight road with little diversion in scenery. Woods dominated over farms this time, and we passed few sights that gave us reason to pause our ride. We did find the Hanka Finnish Homestead Museum outside of Ironwood to be a pretty and peaceful park with a fun giftshop of Scandinavian goods.

Today’s destination was the Black River Crossing B&B outside of Bessemer. We’d been there last winter, and enjoyed it so much we were eager to return. Our hosts Sue and Stan greeted us like old friends and saw to our every need, as before. We spent a peaceful afternoon in the lovely garden surroundings, with the sounds of waterfalls, light breezes, and sunshine playing on the beautiful plantings and flowers. We’ve already been invited to their evening barbecue with friends, so we needn’t even venture out for dinner. And we’re more than happy to be pampered. We feel we’ve earned it.

Trans-Superior Cycling Tour Update

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It’s just one month away! After all these months of planning and training, we are in the final countdown to the Trans-Superior Cycling Tour. Mentally, I’m ready – I’d be happy if we were leaving tomorrow. Well, except for the packing. I haven’t even started that list yet. The trick there will be what not to bring, as we have only 2 paniers each to fill for 9 days’ worth of travel. But since we are not camping, we need only fit in our clothes and a few personal items. Simple enough, right?

I’m feeling good about my preparations so far. I’ve logged over 2,000 miles of cycling this year. I cycle nearly every day of the week (okay, I still consider myself a runner and can’t resist running now and then). I’ve done a number of 50+ mile distance rides, and have been out in cold and rain as well as hot humid weather.

As far as logistics go, our itinerary is set and we have made all of our lodging reservations. We did discover one important detail – the ferries between Isle Royale and Grand Portage only run on certain days of the week. So we had to shift our start date by one day in order to make it work. It pays to do one’s homework on these things. There is no wiggle room on this trip – hotel rooms and ferries are not flexible! We’re in for the distance each day, no matter what the conditions.

So, what’s next? I think it’s time to attach and fill my paniers to get used to riding with the extra weight on my back wheel. That will be entirely new to me. And I have signed up for a bicycle maintenance class at Erik’s bike shop. This week I will spend two evenings in the Novice Class working on my own bike learning to do basic repairs. I figured it was time I learned more about my bike and how to take care of it. Not to mention recovering from the inevitable breakdown on one of my rides.

The only thing remaining between now and our trip is time. And more training miles!

The Best of the Canadian Rockies

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After spending a week in the Canadian Rockies with our son, Erik, we have compiled our list of Bests. As a point of reference, our focus was on hiking and the outdoors, which has a clear influence on our choice of categories.

  • Best Drive – Highway 93 (Icefields Parkway) entering Jasper, for all the wildlife we saw in a short span
  • Best View – Wilcox Pass, with snowbound mountains in all directions
  • Best Lake – Glacier Lake, for its blue-green coloring, mountain and forest surroundings, and absence of people. (We gave this the Best Campsite vote also.)
  • Best Hike – Plain of Six Glaciers, for the uniqueness of traversing snow, wildlife sightings, views and avalanche!
  • Best Waterfall – Stanley Falls on Beauty Creek, for being tucked away, unimpeded by railings and extensive length
  • Best Wildflowers – Calypso Orchid, for it’s delicate purple shape and Indian Paintbrush, for it’s brilliant red color
  • Best Wildlife Sighting – Mama Bear and three cubs
  • Best Boating – The illicit rowboat on Fifth Lake
  • Best Meal – Hearty soup and slices of thick homemade bread at the Teahouse at the top of the Plain of Six Glaciers
  • Best Restaurant – Earl’s in Jasper, for the view, outdoor patio and good food  (Erik gave their Albino Rhino the Best Beer vote too.)
  • Best Lodging – Paradise Lodge and Bungalows in Lake Louise, for the impeccably maintained log cabins, cozy interiors, gracious innkeepers and the breakfast treats and coffee in the lodge
  • Best Coffee Shop – Bear’s Paw in Jasper, for the superb pastries and local ambiance

We also compiled a few fun statistics from our trip:

  • Total distance driven = 600 miles
  • Total kilometers hiked = 100 km  (62 miles)
  • Longest Hike = 15 km  Glacier Lake Trail
  • Most Elevation Gained = 2,276 ft  Glacier Lake Trail
  • Highest Elevation Reached = 7,750 ft  Wilcox Pass Trail
  • Steepest Hike (most elevation gained per km) = Wilcox Pass Trail
  • Usual morning temperature = 45 F
  • Usual afternoon temperature = 58 F
  • Highest afternoon temperature = 70 F
  • Wildlife seen: bears (4 grizzly, 11 black bears), elk, gray wolf, marmot, porcupine, mountain goats, mule deer, chipmunks, Clark’s Nutcracker, grouse, woodpecker

There is very little that is second-best in the Canadian Rockies!

What a difference a week makes

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Our last day in the Canadian Rockies. It meant retracing our route back down the Icefields Parkway to Banff for our final night. Just one week since we journeyed north, but already there was change.

The timing of this trip was no accident. It had to fit between Erik’s graduation and starting his new job. But it also coincided with our philosophy of traveling in the shoulder or off-season. There are a few drawbacks to be sure, but the advantages suit our style. It means avoiding crowds and having places to ourselves. It’s simpler, less stressful and more economical.

The main barrier on this trip was the reduced access to hiking trails. Many were still closed due to snow, and more than once we had to change plans on the fly when faced with weather conditions. Today was a prime example. On reaching our chosen trail head, not only could we see that the hike started in the snow, but hikers preparing to leave were outfitted with gear and clothing we clearly did not have. Good sign that we should seek a different trail at a lower elevation. But fortunately, the area is filled with alternate options.  We were not able to summit peaks or access some passes.  Wildflowers were only just beginning to bloom, temperatures were chilly to cold at times, and some areas had yet to green up. But early spring conditions have their own appeal.

On the flip side, we rarely shared trails with anyone. Major sites had only a handful of visitors. Restaurants greeted us eagerly and offered prime tables with views. Innkeepers were still fresh with the season opening and offered lower rates. And the volume of RVs and tour buses on the roads was easily tolerable.

Our return route gave us a taste of high season. We traveled on a Saturday, and visitors abounded in each turnout and viewpoint. Reaching Johnston Canyons which we visited practically by ourselves the previous Saturday (granted it was the day that snowed), we were astounded to see cars, trucks and RVs spilling out of the ample parking lots onto both sides of the road! If we weren’t convinced of our early season strategy by then, that sealed it.

We also found previously ice bound lakes to be opening up. And wildlife was in great evidence. We got our first close up look at elk with huge racks, at two different spots along the road.

Banff was teaming with activity when we arrived. The source was the annual Banff National Park Bike Fest, and that day they were holding criterium races, on a 1 km loop around the main streets of town. We’d never seen such events before, and with the help of a local who explained the rules to us, we joined the spectators lining the route and enjoyed the excitement of the races.  It was a fun and unexpected way to end our trip.

We’re sticking with our strategy.  We picked the right week.

Maligne Lake – Timing is Everything

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Molly canoeing on Maligne Lake

Our plan was to spend the day canoeing on Maligne Lake. We held off until Friday, as it had the best weather forecast during our stay in Jasper. The rain did indeed cease, and the clouds lifted enough to reveal the mountains, mostly. There even were small patches of blue sky. We got an early start to maximize our time on the water. But our timing was off. Emergency road maintenance on the only road to the lake required a 2-day closure at starting at 1:00pm. Today. All day suddenly became a few hours. We did get out in the canoe, and the lake was blissfully calm. It was great canoeing weather, and we relished the quiet and peaceful environs. Maligne Lake is about 14 miles long, and we probably only saw the first couple of miles. But it was preferable to seeing more of it from one of the tour boats. The canoe was more our style.

Mama bear and three cubs

On our way up to Maligne Lake, we had impeccable timing. A mama bear and three cubs were placidly eating plants on the narrow strip of land between the road and the river. We were only the second car in what became a major “wildlife jam” and had a close up view of the activity. They were easily in sight, and the curious cubs kept coming up to the road to inspect the truck in front of us. Surprisingly, mama bear never followed them, but she certainly kept her eye out and we had no doubt she would follow rapidly if necessary. The cubs were especially active, and the group kept us entertained until they finally moved to a more obscured spot behind some bushes. That was our best bear sighting yet!

Erik after conquerying Patricia Lake

The afternoon turned out to be beautiful. The sun came out and it even felt warm. We did some more hiking then enjoyed spending time around our resort, which was on Patricia Lake just outside Jasper. Erik kept eying the lake and the challenge it presented… Sure it was cold, but should he jump in? Yes, why not! First he made sure the hot tub was ready, then into the water he went – much to the amazement and amusement of other guests. Leave it to a Minnesotan!

We topped off the day by returning to Earl’s restaurant in Jasper, this time dining on the outdoor patio. They had heaters and blankets, just in case, but we didn’t even need them. The timing was just right for dining al fresco.