Category: Places

20th – 24th July: Days 103 – 107

The journey from Marquette to Munising was fairly short, but still managed to include a trip to Walmart. (We may need an intervention…) Munising is also on the south shore of Lake Superior and is a bone fide tourist trap. It’s raison d’être is as the jump-off for accessing ‘Pictured Rocks’, a portion of the lake shore which are rocky cliffs with lots of different coloured layers, eroded into some interesting formations. There are lots of companies doing sightseeing boat trips and kayak hire.  We had 3 full days here, and had booked a kayak trip for the middle day.  Our camp was a ‘family campsite’ with a pool and our site was near enough the pool that we could easily hear the happy sounds of children voices shrieking ‘Marco. Polo’ for hours on end. The children’s cycle tracks conveniently doubled up as the roads around the campsite, and some of those little humans must have rolled past hundreds of times. Shrieking. Fun times.

Our kayak trip needed a early start and we had to be at the office at 8.15 am, about 1 hour earlier than our usual current waking up time. The trip was a bit bigger than we would have liked, with 36 people in total, but the outfit was very efficient and we all had waivers signed, spray skirts and life jackets in hand, safety demo done and aboard and underway by 9.00am. It was sunny and calm, but but after the 1 hour boat trip to the Rocks, it was sunny and quite choppy. Our captain and crew decided it was too messy to do our planned route in the kayaks, so we back-tracked a bit to calmer waters. We were all loaded into our tandem vessels and set off in 3 groups, each with a guide. We had nearly 2 hours of paddling, up close to the face of the Rocks. There were some great features, beautiful colours, and we didn’t fall out once (Literally or figuratively).

The next day we braved some rain to do a couple of hikes up to waterfalls. We managed to get the truck absolutely filthy, and ended the day at the car wash.

We had 4 campfires in 4 evenings in Munising. I think I may be starting to suffer from smoke inhalation.

24th – 26th July: Days 107 – 109

Our next leg was a drive from Munising to Tahquamenon State Park, home of the Tahquamenon Falls.  The water of the river is stained brown by the tannic acid from Hemlock plants and in some places looked just like flowing molten chocolate.. The single Upper Fall is the second most voluminous vertical waterfall east of the Mississippi after only Niagara Falls. Factoid.

It is 4 miles up-river of the cascades of the Lower Falls, which is where our campsite was.  We just had 2 nights here, with a plan to do a big hike on our full day. The Upper and Lower Falls are both major tourist attractions, and most people will drive to each. There is a well trodden 4 mile hiking trail between the falls along the river and there is a shuttle that means you can opt to only do it one way. We decided to do a circuit walk which would take us along a 6 mile loop on a much more primitive trail up to the Upper Falls, then bring us back to the Lower Falls on the popular trail. We had been warned that it might be muddy in patches as there had been 10cm of rain 2 days previously. Undeterred, we packed picnic, bug spray, water and Werthers Originals and set off.  Despite the first 6 miles of trails being quite off the beaten track, they were well signposted. The muddy patches were more like small bogs/ponds and the mosquitos were the size of pigeons, but it was beautiful and peaceful, hot and sunny. We managed to jump/skirt most of the wet patches, and the 40% DEET kept the majority of the bugs away. We popped out of the wilderness into the carpark of the Upper Falls and our solitude was no more. The place was heaving. We dodged the crowds, oooh-ed and aaah-ed at the Falls, and set off down the river track back towards home again. The Lower Falls were less dramatic, but very pretty. It was a great day: 10.5 miles walked, tired legs, but feet intact and a warm fuzzy feeling of achievement. (Best appreciated after a shower with the first cold beer).  We sat out around the fire again, packed up as much as we could before bed as we knew rain was on the way again, and slept like logs.

26th – 28th July: Days 109 – 111

Yup. Rained overnight, and was still raining in the morning during pack-up, which is a rapid and well practiced affair by now.  We only had another short hop to our next stop: Sault Sainte Marie. The main attraction at Sault (pronounced ‘Soo’, for some reason to do with the English mis-pronouncing the original French name) are its epic locks.

These can accomodate the 1000ft freighters, and manage the 21ft drop of the St Marys River between the waters of Lakes Superior and Huron. Ingeniously the spillways power hydroelectric plants on both sides of the river, which provide all the power for the locks, with plenty to spare for the town too. The locks are right in town, and the massive freighters come through, dwarfing the waterfront and providing quite a captivating slow motion spectacle.  Our campsite was right on the water, about a mile down river so had great views of the approaching and departing ships, and looked right across the river at Canada. The rain stopped at lunchtime and the day turned into glorious sunny one. We headed to town for dinner on our first evening here. There was a regular summertime performance by a local steel drum band in the park, which was excellent, and after watching for 15 minutes we found a restaurant with a roof top terrace. Our waitress amused us, and herself, by practicing her English accent, and we had a perfect view of the locks and a passing freighter during our meal. The next day we mooched around, watched a few more ships coming through, spent some time in the Locks Visitor Centre and had savoury crepes for lunch. Just a little bit French.

Another factoid: Sault is the 3rd oldest city in the USA, having been established by French missionaries in 1668. The knowledge cup runneth over…

28th – 31st July: Days 111 – 114

We left Sault and headed to our final Upper Peninsula destination, St Ignace. Again, not a long trip, perhaps 1.5 hours driving. We have been on the UP for 5 weeks now, and are moving so slowly that we have almost ground to a halt.

St Ignace sits at the northern end of the Mackinac Bridge, which spans the Mackinac straits, the 5 mile stretch of water that separates the UP from the Lower Michigan Peninsula, and Lake Huron from Lake Michigan. The bridge is very long, and is, wait for it, the ‘longest suspension bridge between anchorages’ in the world. But before we get to the bridge, the other main attraction of St Ignace is that it is the gateway to Mackinac Island.  In another strange quirk of pronunciation, Mackinac is pronounced Mackinaw. Something to do with the French/English thang again.

We had 3 nights here in a campsite called ‘Tiki’. Felt a bit like home.  A trip to the island is a must, and we did this the next day, which was a perfect hot sunny cloudless day with a light breeze and low humidity. There are several boat companies that regularly make the 25 minute trip across to the island. It was an important outpost for the US army for many years and has a well preserved fort, but its more recent history is as a popular summer holiday destination for the monied in the late 19th C. As cars became popular and the island was in danger of losing its tranquillity, the powers-that-be made a big decision in 1898 and banned motorised vehicles from the island. This edict remains in place and transport on the 8 mile circumference island is only by foot, pedal or hoof, with 300 horses providing carriage rides.

The jewel in the island’s crown is the Grand Hotel. Built in 1887, it is enormous and boasts a 660ft long french porch, which, you guessed it, is the longest in the world. The chief industries on the island are selling fudge to tourists, and renting bicycles to tourists. The place is bonkers! Bazillions of people on bikes doing the circuit of the flat lakeshore road. Some of these people even had some spacial awareness and a grasp of the basic road rules.

We had a fantastic day: brunch at an old fashioned diner, did a couple laps and a few crosses on the internal island tracks, visited the old fort, bought home-made lemonade from 2 cute little girls on the roadside, had an hour lying in the sun, and got quite adept at horse poop slalom. (Even the horse pooper-scooper wagon is horse drawn.) The island is a very special place, with a real sense of history and some amazing old homes. It is interesting that even without the scourge of the combustion engine, humans all want to be going somewhere, in large numbers

After catching the boat back to St Ignace we had dinner in town then watched the weekly summertime fireworks display. Quite impressive. Our cycle home was exciting as we had no lights for the bikes. Luckily we could stick to pavements, so it wasn’t as dangerous as it felt.

The next day we eventually mustered ourselves at about midday and after brunch headed back into town on the bikes. We mooched around, bought some bike lights, sussed out a dinner spot and visited the teeny tiny lighthouse at the end of the very short breakwater. Later, after cycling back into town with our camp chairs on our backs, we had (a mediocre) dinner and then as darkness fell, we watched the weekly open air movie in the park. (The animated movie ‘Sing’). Our ride home was less scary given the improved illumination factor.

The next day we drove over the Mighty Mackinaw Bridge, and were sad to leave the wilds of the UP. It, and it’s people are quite like NZ, and the Kiwis. I think that is why we have enjoyed it so much. Michigan is a state of 2 halves, and now we head back into relative civilisation of the Lower Peninsula, or the ‘Mitten’, as it is affectionately known. Perhaps the Wifi will be better…

 

 

 

16th -20th July: Days 99-103

So, we have now passed the 100 day mark. The days are going both slowly and at great speed. It is great to have no real pressure of time, a luxury.

Marquette, also on the shores of Lake Superior, is the Upper Penisular’s largest town, with population of about 21,000.

It is also the home of Northern Michigan University and the world’s largest wooden dome. which houses a sports arena. The place is covered in walking and biking trails which become cross country ski trails, and ATV trails which become snowmobile trails, in the winter.

Our site was on the Town Park, another lovely large, wooded camp, full of entertaining squirrels and chipmunks, right on the edge of town. It had a lake with a beach, was on the doorstep of the cycle trails and was linked to town by a paved, flat cycle route. Perfect.

We had 3 full days here. We explored town, the lakeshore, the dome, the local microbrewery and the ice-cream shop. We had campfires, played weasel bag *, and watched the park slowly transform for its hosting of the imminent ‘traditional’ music festival Hiawatha. Happily we would be leaving before that delight got started.

We had one memorable morning on the cycle trails. We had planned an hour or 2 of cruising some easy trails, with only one bottle of water each and no food or padded pants involved in the planning.  We set off with a (in retrospect: incomplete) map and high spirits. 3.5 hours later we realised we were the unfortunate victims of poor trail signage and had strayed onto a part of the trail system not on our map. The black diamond/ only for cycling ninjas/ let’s keep it secret from the hapless tourists part of of the trail system . We were hot, tired, ravaged by mosquitos, hungry, thirsty and just a teensy bit grumpy. We had essentially taken our bikes for a walk up a rock face and through a swamp. Google maps came to the rescue and we eventually found our way home where we reminisced on the great adventure we had had over a late lunch.

So as the sound stage went up, the portaloos were delivered and the arriving campers got more and more ‘alternative’, we left Marquette and Hiawatha-land. 

*Weasel bag: This is our alternative name for the popular US lawn game known as Corn Hole.  It involves each throwing 4 small beanbags and trying to land them on a sloped board with a hole in it. The further you stand from the board, the more challenging it is. One point for a bag on the board, 3 points for a bag in the hole. First to 21.  Ours is a budget version from Walmart. Other things that increase the challenge: Darkness falling. Beer. Inquisitive chipmunks. Being downwind from a smoky campfire. Left-handed throwing only. Wine.

 

14th-16th July: Days 97-99

Going to a rodeo was definitely on The List. Upper Peninsula Michigan is not your stereotypical location for a rodeo but we discovered that The UP Rodeo Championships were going to be held in Iron River, and so we went.   This is a big weekend for a small town with 2 evenings of rodeo, market stalls, a street parade, and a series of fun runs. We had pre-booked a spot in the town camp site which was close to the town centre and only a 20 minute walk from the rodeo grounds.  After arriving early afternoon on the Friday we caught the end of the market, and Nick bought raffle tickets for which the prize draw was months away. More of a donation then, really, as we will be long gone.

We walked up to the rodeo grounds at about 6pm, furnished ourselves with a beer, and started the important pre-event entertainment…people watching.  There were all sorts of folks in attendance. Folks from the hills. Folks from the other side of the tracks. Folks from the cowboy fancy dress shop (or so it seemed). Actual cowboys. And then there was us. I suspect that we stood out like sore thumbs, and were being watched as much as we were watching.

 The evening started with flag hoisting, national anthem playing, military personnel thanking, girls with flags on horseback galloping in synchronised circles to stirring music, and there was a clown with a tiny performing pony both in a beaten up VW Beetle. Then there was some rodeo. Men chasing and roping calves. Men with very bendy backs on very grumpy horses, some with saddles, some without.  Men plucking the bendy backed men off the grumpy horses before the grumpy horses tried to kill them. Men on horses galloping after the grumpy horses (after they had plucked the bendy backed men off them) to remove the straps from around their nether regions to make them a lot less grumpy all of a sudden.

 

The women and girls involved in the rodeo were mainly entrants in the Miss Rodeo Queen and Miss Rodeo Princess competitions. Lots of sparkly fringed cowgirl outfits, lots of big long hair-dos, lots of fixed smiles and beauty pageant makeup. Not much getting dusty or sweaty.  Those gals can really gallop fast in a circle whilst doing a ‘royal wave’ though.

We had a really fun evening. What with the beer and junk food, sunshine and drama of it all.

The next morning I decided, at the last minute, to do the 10km fun run. It was a slightly bigger affair than the Copper Harbour event, with about 20 entrants. I staggered around the course, coming in 4th from last, BUT, winning my ladies age category. I even got a medal. My glory continues.

Soon after the run came the town parade. This really was an epic. Floats large and small, good and bad, with horses and without. Lots of fire engines, police cars, tractors, lorries, wheelbarrows, people dressed up, some not. Lots of candy.  And the entire population of Iron River lining the streets sat on camping chairs. We got bored after an hour and fell into a diner for coffee and brunch.

Saturday evening was rodeo again. We walked up to the grounds, in the baking heat this time and were very pleased to make it to the first cold beer.  The program was much the same as the previous night, but just as fun.  We spent more time wandering round and watching seeing the action from different angles.  The beer and junk food was also as good. I vowed to eat some salad or vegetables the next day.

Rodeo. Check.

13th – 14th June: Days 96-97

Eventually our time in Copper Harbor came to an end. We extracted ourselves from our woodland troll site and drove south again leaving the Keewenaw Peninsula. On our way back through Houghton we had another trip to ‘Loads Of Fun’ laundry, had our lunch in the camper in the carpark, and then headed off to our next stop: a single night in a small town called Baraga. It was a dreary day. Exactly the same weather as the day we had arrived in this area. Rain more like mist, and cold. 53 degrees was the maximum of the day (11.5 deg C). For. Crying. Out. Loud.

Baraga was not far away at all and was just a stop-off on our way to Iron River, our next planned destination. Our camp was a state park campsite. These are usually a bit more basic than the private camps, but often beautifully located with large sites. Baraga State Park was all these things, and we had a site overlooking the lake. Unfortunately the main highway ran between the lake and the park and turned out to be an arterial truck route. Not so peaceful. Hey ho. At least there were no trains.

After a mediocre night’s sleep we woke to a blue sky sunny warm day. Welcome back summer. We got on the road and drove the short distance south of town to Baraga’s main attraction, the enormous statue of Bishop Baraga, for whom the town is named. He was a missionary from Slovenia and spent many years in the area converting the natives and tending his flock. He walked thousands of miles, often in snowshoes in the winter, earning himself the title of The Snowshoe Priest. He has recently be deemed Venerable, the first step on the path to sainthood.

As you can see the statue is enormous, and just a little bit kitch, what with the ‘hovering on a cloud supported by arches, with teepee bases’ presentation.

The statue is situated on a private piece of land, with a garden, a catholic memorabilia gift shop and a cafe (of sorts) that sells pasties and home made ice cream. The whole place is owned by an fantastically effusive nun, Sister Maria who runs it with a style to be best described as happy borderline chaos. We spent an amusing hour listening to her stories, trying not to talk Trump-onian politics as she is a Trump cheerleader, eating a pasty and ice-cream with a coffee for lunch, and collecting the handfuls of catholic literature she kept passing to us.

We were not converted, to either catholicism or Trumponianism, but she made an excellent cup of coffee and was officially our most entertaining human interaction in the USA to date. If Bishop Baraga is made a Saint she will be sitting on a goldmine.

 

 

29th June – 12th July: Days 82-95

On the way from Madeline Island to Copper Harbour we stopped for a ‘one nighter’ in the small town of Houghton.

Things we achieved here:

1. 3 loads of laundry in a big commercial laundrette called ‘Loads Of Fun’. It had free Wifi and everything. Such fun.
2. Changing our mobile phone provider to one that actually provides cell reception and 4G anywhere but the Pacific Northwest.
3. A nice evening out combining craft beer and dinner.
4. Another trip to Walmart. This is a bit like eating a whole bag of Cheezels. Initially an excellent experience, followed soon after by the real certainty that you shouldn’t have.

The next day was a short trip up the Keewenaw Peninsula to the end of the road, Copper Harbor. The peninsula juts out so far into Lake Superior that it puts Copper Harbor almost in the middle of the lake.  The day was gloomy. A dank drizzle that never really became rain, and it was cool. We have realised that summer in this neck of the woods is a fickle and shy creature and that we can’t put the woollies away yet. We pulled up to our campsite late afternoon and spent the next hour trying to find a site that we could fit into and was available for our planned 6 days. Because of a small local celebration known as 4th of July the place was going to be busy, and the only sites available were more suitable for tents. Very wooded, with low branches. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we finally squeezed ourselves into a site, and low spirits were instantly improved with ones that involved ice, lemon and tonic.

Copper Harbor is another small town at the end of a windy narrow road that reminded us a lot of the main SH 1 through NZ. It has a permanent population of 91 and a regular summertime population of about 300. As the name might suggest its’ past is dominated by copper mining but now it is a destination for mountain bikers, hikers, kayakers, campers and general lakeside moochers. The town also lays on one of the biggest 4th of July fireworks displays of the Michigan Upper Peninsula.

If you look at a map of Michigan it is split into 2 distinct parts:  Lower Michigan and the Upper Peninsula, or the UP as it is known. Locals are ‘Yoopers’, and are quite a distinct sub species.

Copper Harbor is also one of the few departure points to take a boat out to Isle Royale, an island National Park about 55 miles away. (It is much closer to Canada and Minnesota, but belongs to Michigan). Most people go out to the Isle for several days to either to multi-day hike and camp, or stay in the lodge. We had planned to do a day trip. We called into the office to book our place on the 3 hour each-way ferry, to be told that the next available places were on the 11th July. We had planned to leave on the 6th.  Two choices: Either not go to Isle Royale, or extend our stay in Copper Harbour for 12 nights all together. We decided to stay put. It seemed a fine place to while away some time.

Things we did in Copper Harbor: in no particular order.

We had many cups of coffee from the bakery/smoked fishmongers down at the harbour front. We discovered the joys of a shot of hazelnut syrup in a coffee rather than sugar.

We spent many hours sat in the clubhouse of the campsite as this was the only place we could get wifi. Slow wifi. Copper Harbour has no cell reception and definitely no Gs.

We visited every shop and studio/gallery at least once. (About 8 in all)

We visited every eatery and bar (except one) at least once. (About 5 in all)

We cycled. Mostly for transport around town and to and from the shower block, but we did spend an excellent afternoon on the local trails.  Over the past 5 years Copper Harbour has become a destination mountain bike park, with some world class trails. There is an amazing shuttle service that will take you up to the top of the hill and then a huge variety of interlinking trails that bring you back right into centre of town again. We did 3 long runs and were happy to finish the day uninjured and tired enough to warrant eating out.

We ran. Yes, you read that right. We. Some of you may remember that we have both entered The Hogsback Half Marathon. This is a small town event in Colebrook, Connecticut on 30th Sept, right at the end of our trip. This was mainly a damage limitation exercise to try and minimise waistline expansion by training for it during our travels. Running is an alien activity to Nick, but this was his idea and although he is not exactly loving it, he is soldiering on. 10 weeks to go. The second weekend we were here there was a trail running festival. One of the events was a 10km ‘fun run’.  I entered this and after leading the field for the first 1km…here is the evidence..

…I eventually finished 2nd. This would have been a slightly more impressive if there had been more than 5 entrants, one of whom brought his dog. Still. My best result ever.

I attended a meeting of the Copper Harbor Ukulele Group.  Having got to know a lovely lady called Margaret, a photographer who runs one of the galleries and the library, I wangled an invitation the uke group that she was a member of. Fun to play some different tunes (my current repertoire is getting a bit boring) and quite nice for Nick and I to have a couple of hours of separation.

We had LOTS of campfires in our cozy private sheltered wooded spot.

We celebrated 4th of July on US soil for the first time ever.

We spent the day with a family from Detroit that we actually met whilst doing laundry in Houghton on the way here: Todd, Keta, kids KJ and Coen, and Penny the dog. We started the day watching the parade line up and set off. This consisted of the sheriff in his car with the siren going, the 3 area fire trucks and volunteer brigade, a fleet of decorated ATVs, a band playing Country music from a trailer boat, the boy scout brigade, kids in tutus, the uke group all in the back of a pick up and 2 horses.

I was competing with KJ and Coen for the thrown candies/lollies/sweeties. They were amateurs. The rest of the afternoon was a relaxed affair with hotdogs for lunch, cooked by the fire brigade, sitting in the sun and a few pints from the local microbrewery. After a power nap by one us, (apparently 2 pints of 8.8% IPA in the afternoon can make a chap a bit sleepy) we reconvened with family Thelan for dinner, and eventually at 11pm it was dark enough for the main event. The reputation of Copper Harbor’s 4th of July fireworks spreads far and wide, and suddenly the town was chock-a-block with people who had driven from far and wide to watch them.  It was a beautiful clear windless night, perfect for the half an hour long display which really was amazing, considering this is such a small place so far from anywhere.

It had been a great day, with a new friendship made. Hopefully we will be able to catch up with these guys again in Detroit.

We hired a row boat one afternoon and explored the smaller lake that our campsite was situated on, Lake Fanny Hooe. It was initially a foggy day, but by lunchtime it was hot and glorious.

 

We packed water and books and spent 2 hours messing about on the water. Just before our return to the dock and a planned swim (smaller lake, so much warmer than Superior) the fog returned, dropping the temperature by 15 degrees within 30 seconds. Swim cancelled.

We (eventually) visited Isle Royale. The least visited, but one of the most re-visited of the National Parks, and one of the most northern parts of the Lower 48. It used to be a summer playground for the well-to-do of Lower Michigan, and has been logged and also mined for copper in the past. Now it is a hiking mecca, with a moose population of 1600 (the largest herd in the US) and 2 wolves.  The boat trip over takes 3 hours, and sometimes has to contend with 20ft waves. Happily our ‘sea’ condition could have been described as ‘mirror’. It was eerie to be out of sight of land, but there be not a single ripple on the water.

We arrived into the small harbour on the Isle, which is actually an archipelago of over 400 islands, and with picnic packed, set out for a walk. The downside of only day tripping was our limited time ashore. Only 3 hours. This was plenty of time for a good walk with a stop for our lunch, but being obsessive about not being late for anything, and really not wanting to miss the boat home, we were back at the dock with an hour to spare. If we come back, we will stay at least one night. We did spot one of the moose, a big male, close to the harbour. Quite unusual apparently.

We celebrated the Halfway Point of our trip on 7th July.

Things we didn’t do much of in Copper Harbor: in no particular order.

1. Sunbathe
2. Go anywhere in the truck. Nowhere. On the last day, when we were sorting out to leave, Nick found mice and a nest under the bonnet. Luckily there were no babies, and they were evicted.
3. Get out of bed before 10.30am. Getting lazier and lazier.
4. Regular blog updates. Sorry folks. Will try harder.

We stayed in Copper Harbour for 13 nights all together. We have developed a real affection for the town and felt like we temporarily became a small part of the fabric the of place. We leave with fond memories and an invitation from Margaret to come back in visit her in the winter one year. Now there’s is an idea.

 

 

 

22nd – 29th June: Days 75 – 82

Our only stop in Wisconsin is Madeline Island, the only inhabited of the 21 Apostle Islands. These are a cluster of islands just off the shore in Lake Superior, protected as National Shoreline Park.  A small car ferry makes the 20 minute trip from the small, quiet, picturesque mainland harbour of Bayfield to tiny, sleepy, beautiful La Pointe, the only settlement on the island.  Madeline has a long history as a port and fort, with interactions between Native Americans, fur trappers and traders, loggers, prospectors and missionaries. Now it is all about holidays. The island is 15 miles long by 3 miles wide, has 3000 residents in summertime, but only 300 ‘year-rounders’. The winter residents can drive their cars across the ice to Bayfield once it has frozen thick enough. Difficult to imagine when visiting in June.

We had stocked up with provisions on the mainland, did the laundry in La Pointe and then headed out of town the 6.5 miles to our camp.  The only camping on the island is in 2 parks halfway up the island on a big bay called Big Bay. One is a State Park and the other is owned by the town called Big Bay Town Park. Logical. We were in Town Park which was a lovely wooded camp with large secluded sites, fire pits, a beach and a lagoon. The roads to and from La Point were fairly flat, wide, smooth and had designated cycle lanes. A fantastic place to be on 2 wheels.  The hottest business in town on a sunny day is the moped rental outfit.

We had 7 nights here and after getting installed on a lovely warm afternoon we started island life with sundowners on the beach and sausages cooked on an open fire. Bliss.

The next day we saddled up and rode back to La Pointe. The island was beautiful, the verges filled with wild lupins, and loads of amazing waterfront holiday homes with their own docks. I can see why this place is a popular holiday spot.

 

Our chief objective today: to find somewhere we could watch the next 2 Americas Cup sailing races the next day. The Beach Club, a bar overlooking the ferry wharf, fitted the bill perfectly. We had lunch sat up at the bar admiring the view and chatted to a local called Leon, a slightly unkempt retired lawyer, who seemingly now fills his days with margaritas.  We headed home, stocked up with firewood and had another evening sitting around and cooking on the fire. Our planned stargazing was curtailed by some rain, so we headed in and broke out Breaking Bad Season 3. Now we’ve started something…

Undeterred by the threat of showers we cycled back into La Pointe in the late morning to stake our claim by a TV at The Beach Bar for the sailing. The bar was filled with Harley Bikers, but as they were not apparently sailing fans we found a quiet spot in the corner and watched the racing on mute. NZ are comfortably ahead, but we’ve been here before…. Back at the homestead, in a rare outbreak of domestic goddess-itis, I baked brownies. (Confession: packet mix). This really is fancy camping.

The rain arrived with a vengeance the next day. Pretty much all day. Under the shelter of our large umbrella we trudged the 300m down to the camp office to use the wifi in the morning and watched DVDs and ate brownies in the afternoon. Our the Tin Can is small, but has enough mod-cons to make a rainy day more than bearable. We even actually read our real paper books. (Yup, thats what no wifi/4G will drive you to.)

We had booked a 7 hour boat trip for the following day, and awoke to ongoing rain. We had no way of finding out if the trip was still running as there was also no cell reception out at the park, so we just had to go anyway. This was a minor kerfuffle as we took the whole shebang to town, planning to swing by the island dump station on the way home. (Woop-de-poop…) The weather gods were kind to us though and the rain turned into sunshine, although there was a cool breeze. The trip was in an open 7m sports boat with a 8L petrol inboard, with a very nice young man called Kyle as skipper and a father and son as the only other 2 passengers. We bashed around the islands looking at shipwrecks, lighthouses and had a stop for a walk on an amazing deserted beach. It definitely reminded us of parts of the Bay Of Islands, but the water is much colder. Still only 41 degrees at this time of year. No swimming was contemplated. The main destination for the trip was one the outermost islands called Devils Island. It has fantastic sandstone cliffs which are multicoloured and eroded into amazing caves and shapes by the water and weather.

The lovely Kyle sorted out some inflatable kayaks and we were able to get up close and personal with the formations.  A good day. We arrived back windswept and happy to hear that the Kiwis had secured victory in the Americas Cup.

Day 5 on the island was beautiful: sunny and warm.  We biked back into La Pointe again and spent 3-4 hours drinking coffee, eating, catching up with wifi, visiting galleries, shops and the museum, and generally soaking up the easygoing island vibe. This is a sweet spot. The 13 mile round trip on the bikes is a bit further than ideal, but it is earning us some calorie credits. Damage limitation on the waistlines. The evening was warm and still and we managed to sit out by the fire until dark. We were captivated by our first ever experience of fireflies, a bit freaked out by some rustling in the woods behind us that we were sure was a black bear cruising through, and amused by the 2 guilty looking raccoons that we caught  checking out our pile of empty beer cans.

As forecast, the next day turned out wetter than an otter’s pocket. We decided to go for a walk anyway, and at least managed to set off in the dry. The trail was 12 miles along the lakeshore, through a wood and round a headland. It was beautiful and unsurprisingly deserted, given the mild monsoon.  We arrived home drenched to our under layers, but with joy just about intact.  Amazing what a hot shower, a lovely cup of tea and a brownie can do to boost morale. We filled the rest of the day with more Breaking Bad episodes and it just rained and rained and rained.

In the morning we headed back to the ferry to return to the mainland to carry on our way. Madeline Island is a real little gem of a place and despite the rainy days we have loved our stay here. Another place to add to the list of places we would like to come back to.  An ever lengthening list. Next stop, Copper Harbor.

 

 

 

18th – 22nd June: Days 71 to 75

Our next destination, Duluth, is the largest inland port in the world. It sits in a corner of Lake Superior, which is the largest body of fresh water in the world. It holds 11% of the planetary total. As we had our first glimpse of the lake on our journey from Ely it was like arriving at the seaside. It really is a behemoth. It creates its own weather, can be stormy enough to rival any sea, and definitely has some surf breaks along its shores. The trip today was only 100 miles, but challenging in the ‘road quality’ department and progress was slow. Shaken and rattled we eventually hit the (smoother) lakeshore road and followed it down towards Duluth, headed towards civilisation again. We called into the Split Rock Lighthouse, one of the most visited lighthouses in the country. It was built in response to a massive storm in 1905 which caused more than 20 shipwrecks in one night. Carnage.

Our camp in Duluth is a bit different from our previous stops. The sites are on the hardstanding of the small boat marina, and in the winter this is where the hauled out boats are stored. Great multi-purposing of a space. We had a fantastic view of the harbour, the passing ships, the town hills and we were only a short walk to the recently renovated Canal Park District.

This is the old industrial area on the waterfront that is now full of bars, restaurants, shops and is the starting place for boardwalks and cycle trails that meander up the lakeshore. But our favourite part of Duluth is its aerial lift bridge. Built in 1930 it spans the Duluth ship canal and links the town to Minnesota Point (the longest freshwater baymouth bar in the world at 6 miles long).  The whole span raises up and down, and due to the amount of ships and yachts that use the canal, it does this 5-10 times a day. The bells ring, the traffic is stopped, the span rises, the big ships sound their horns in acknowledgement, and the bridge replies with the loudest horn blasts that I have ever heard. It is quite a spectacle and kept us very entertained. The locals aren’t quite so enamoured with it though, they see it as a monumental pain in the proverbial.

We had arranged to meet another mechanic here to get our water heater fixed. He was so vague on the phone that we did not have high hopes for success. Happily, however, he knew exactly what he was doing, diagnosed the problem quickly and fixed it.  Eventually. Hot water again and we should get some of the cost back under our warranty.

We had a great few days here. A couple of bike rides, a couple of nice meals out, a couple of haircuts, a shopping trip to the mall, and hours spent watching boats go by and the bridge go up and down. Duluth has a real charm to it with a skyline a bit like a mini San Fransisco, or Wellington.  The bones of it are of from old money, when fortunes were made from ore and shipping and it is undergoing a real renaissance, with new buildings and the renovation of the old industrial sites. There were tons of people down by the waterfront, using the walking paths and bike trail and the baymouth bar has a 4 mile long sandy beach, just a stones throw from town. I think Duluth would be a pretty cool place to live. (Of course I have not factored in the months of bitterly cold winter to these musings…)

We bade farewell after 4 nights and after a short drive up and over a large harbour bridge we left Minnesota and entered Wisconsin.

 

 

13th – 18th June: Days 66 to 71

Ely, Minnesota is the self proclaimed ‘canoe capital of the world’ and it probably is.  It is a small but perfectly formed town which functions as the gateway to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, or BWCAW (a place with a less-than-catchy acronym). This is a 2 million acre park of even more watery wilderness with endless interconnecting lakes and forested shores and islands. It is devoid of human habitation and motorised access is strictly limited.  The town is full of businesses that organise canoe trips, with racks and racks of canoes stacked up on their lots and every other vehicle on the road has a canoe strapped to its roof.

We drove from Lake Kabetegoma to Ely in another thunderstorm and had our picnic lunch in the car along the way, parked up on a lakeshore watching the wild white horses on the water. We provisioned up in Ely, then drove the 5 miles out to our camp site on the shores of a lake called White Iron Lake.

We had high hopes for this camp and had booked 6 nights in a lake-front site. The camp did boat and canoe rentals and we were looking forward to many days cruising around in the sunshine exploring the edges of the BWCAW…

It wasn’t just about the shonky weather, but the place didn’t really live up to our expectations. It was tired, had mediocre facilities and the lady in the office was surly. The sites at the lake were very pretty but minuscule and we were allocated a site right next to the only other rig in an otherwise empty area of the camp. The surly lady assured me that there was no option to be moved as the camp was going to fill up over the next few days. So we sucked it up, set camp and introduced ourselves to our (very close) neighbour, a very laconic pipe smoker called Rich. He didn’t seem to care.  That evening we holed up and were treated to the most amazing lightening storm we have ever witnessed. Hours and hours of flashes that lit the sky almost once every second and  constant rolling thunder. Once we got bored of watching it out of the back window we strangely slept like babies.

The next day was sunny but far too windy to consider taking to the water. We initially set off on foot up behind the lodge to find their advertised walking trail but after 20 minutes of blithering around, over dressed and now far too hot, all we could find was a quarry. So we bailed, went ‘home’, took some clothes off and headed off on the bikes instead.  We explored down the road until we hit the end, then came back. Enough activity to partially earn sausages for our dinner.

The day after that was finally sunny with only a light breeze. Hoorah. We packed a picnic and a rug, hats, suncream, bug spray and our books and headed out in a Canadian canoe for the day.  The day started excellently as we gently blew down the lake, paddling in perfect marital harmony, admiring the lake shore homes with their docks and nice boats on their boat lifts. Around lunchtime (Ok, 1130, as all this activity was making us hungry) we found a perfect little island in the lake for a stop. We managed the canoe dismount without incident (but perhaps limited harmony and elegance) and had our picnic lunch on a lovely rocky outcrop in the sunshine. The entertainment was provided by the resident American eagle who was only party perturbed by our presence.

After about 2 minutes of post-lunch relaxation, sunbathing and reading the weather changed for the worse. We packed up and headed for home. Upwind. Into a thunderstorm squall.

Things became a bit dicey for 20 minutes, during which we pulled up to a private dock and sheltered from the brief downpour under our semi-waterproof picnic rug. I hadn’t reckoned on its potential as a survival tool as we were buying it in Walmart many weeks ago. It is slightly ironic that it has now been used as much to huddle under as to sit on. Once the storm had past we carried on paddling and reached our home dock safely: enough excitement for one day. Back at our camp site we found we had a new neighbour on the other side. Cheek by jowl. Still with the rest of the camp empty. Very bizarre.

The morning brought more sunny but windy weather, so we stayed off the water and cycled the 5 miles back into Ely. We checked out another RV camp in town, and decided that we would move the next day, rather than continue our sardine existence on the lakeshore, especially as the weather was forecast to be ropey again. That evening was beautifully calm and we finally got a chance to light a campfire and sit out all evening.  Now we saw the lake at its best. Strangely the rest of the campsite never did fill up.

Our stay in the town campsite was very civilised. Spacious with great facilities, friendly staff, fresh donuts and a big TV in the office on which  we managed to watch the first 2 races of the much anticipated Americas Cup. We walked the short mile to town for dinner and found a brew pub that was renowned for its burgers. Nick is a homing pigeon for this stuff. I had a Jucy Lucy burger, a Minnesotan speciality. This is a burger patty with a magma pocket of melted cheese on the inside. Delicious but potentially dangerous if you are hungry.

This whole area was quite unexpected. A real life wilderness that we didn’t get the chance to fully explore or appreciate. This is the first area on our travels that we feel that we would love to come back to and do a fully outfitted canoe trip into the wilderness proper. One day, one day….

Next stop Duluth.

10th-13th June: Days 63-66

One of the lesser known US National Parks is a watery wilderness on the Canadian border known as Voyageurs. It is named after the population of French-Canadian trappers, or Voyageurs, that travelled up and down these waters by canoe, exploring and trading fur. There are 500+ islands in approximately 220,000 acres of lands and water. The park is pretty much only accessible by boat or on foot, but there are a few areas that have roads to them.  Our stop for 3 nights was a small park on Lake Kabetegoma. Quite exclusive, and a bit pricy because of it. You do get what you pay for though, and it was clean and quiet with good facilities.  We caught up with laundry (…this might be becoming an obsession…) and I tried to get more up to date with the blog.  The park had the same electrical storm as we had the night prior and this had unfortunately fried the internet connection. A temporary fix had been done, but this meant we had to sit in the sun outside the office to get a signal. Not a bad spot for an office.

The lake was beautiful and we had hoped to rent some kayaks to explore the waterways but the tail end of the storm made it either quite windy or very windy for all the time we were here. We decided to stay ashore. There was hiking and biking to be done, a bar a short cycle away, and a fantastic spot for a sundowner on the lake shore.

 

 

8th-10th June: Days 61-63

Firstly, this town has a very cool name. Secondly, we have reached our first significant body of water since leaving Seattle: Lake of the Woods. Ever heard of it? No, us neither. Just a small 4000 sq miles of lake, right on the border with Canada and a fishing mecca.  Walleye is the fishy prize. Never heard of that either.

Warroad is an affluent little town although strangely a bit shabby and very uncommercialised from a tourist point of view.  I think the locals are too busy fishing to have time to mow their lawns. There are 2 major businesses here. Marvin Windows and Doors, which employs 1000 people more than the total town population and Christian, which makes ice hockey sticks.  Warroad is also known as ‘Hockey Town’.

Bob Marvin has sunk his expendable loot into many things around town to help the local population, but his personal passion is American muscle cars.  He has built a shed on the main road into town which houses his quite amazing personal car collection. This is free entry with no extra charge for drooling.  We spent a fantastic hour and a half in here and had an ad hoc private tour from the caretaker.  He let us sit in some cars and even briefly started a couple up for us too.

 

 

The collection contains far too many special cars to detail but does contain Corvette vin number 1

Our campsite was an enormous wooded municipal campground which was 99% occupied by permanent rigs here for the whole season, year on year. We felt a bit out of place, as journeymen, but it was quiet and spacious.  Our second night here we found ourself in the path of a massive storm with the potential for tornados and mega-hail. Luckily the tornados didn’t materialise but the thunder, lightning and rain was epic.