Washington to Washington, Days 35-40

 Photos

Tuesday, July 5, 2022, Day 35:

It was soggy this morning and then started raining again at 9 a.m. I didn’t start pedaling until 10:30 a.m and I did that on very wet roads and with some mist in the air.

There was a nice shoulder to begin with but then 8.5 miles of riding with a six-inch shoulder and some traffic. It was stressful to have to ride in such a tiny space for so long. I stopped after eight miles of this to eat a bar, go pee, and get my headphones going. A young mother noticed my Leadville shirt and asked me about it. Her sister-in-law was riding Leadville this year. I continue to be surprised at the notoriety of this race.

I had noticed that my left pedal had some give to it. I figured it must be a loose cleat, but at my stop I found my cleat to be very secure. As I rode on, it was still annoying me. I thought I must have something wrong with the pedal, but on closer inspection, I could see that my crank was moving side to side. I stopped and cranked down the crank with my hex wrench. Thinking the problem was solved, I rode on.

I met Sheri at a big, green, very nice, state park. Sheri talked her way in for free. She’s such a charmer. I was a little chilled when I arrived--not enough to put on more clothes, but I elected to rest in the car instead of in a chair. I’d done 41 miles to this point and had 34 miles to go. We made plans to meet in ? after 17 miles.

I rode some on a bike path, but then got back on the highway when the path became rough gravel. When I met Sheri I had to tighten up my crank again. I also took the time to lube my chain. After some food and a chocolate milk, I rode the remaining 17 miles on the Iron Ore Trail and it was awesome. Half of it was paved and the other half was on firm, smooth, crushed gravel, 

With seven miles to go, the weather got really foggy and a bit cold, my phone died, and my crank fell off. No worries about the phone, as I biked with a power brick and a cable and got that going. While the weather chilled me, I tried to fix my crank. When I tried to push my crank back on, the right side moved out away from the bike, as they connected together. Eventually I got the crank on well enough to continue to the campground. Just before this happened I also noticed that I couldn’t shift into my big ring any longer. I thought this was just a cable issue and that I’d either need some lube on it or to replace the cable. I retro-fitted this bike with Ultegra less than two years ago, so this was curious. Maybe I did a bad job of it.

When I got to the campground, I found Sheri sitting in the car with her down jacket on. We’d got the last site. Thank goodness for Sheri. I wouldn’t have wanted to go searching for an alternative. I was quite cold at this point, so immediately headed to the shower, mostly to get warm.

When I returned, Sheri was off on her exploratory hike. I found a bike shop 2.5 miles away and hopped on my bike, hoping that they could quickly solve both of my problems. The mechanic, Nevin, gave me prompt service. He got my crank on a bit better, but I was lacking the loading bolt and he felt the threads were stripped enough that I needed a new crank, which he didn’t have and wouldn’t have until Friday. He gave me the part number so that I could call ahead to a bike shop hundreds of miles ahead. He wasn’t able to solve my shifting problem either. He replaced the cable but to no effect. The problem seems to reside in the shifter. I had been experiencing some trouble with this for a week or more. It just took more effort to get it to shift, but now no effort would get it to shift. This would have been quite the delay if I didn’t have a second bike. 

Wednesday, July 6, 2022, Day 36:

The tarmac in the campground was dry when I woke up. I hoped that boded well for a drier, warmer day in the saddle. I had to ride the gravel bike today, due to the issues with my road bike, but I wanted to be on it anyway, as I was planning to ride the gravel roads recommended by Nevin from the bike shop.

It was quite cold for the first 30 miles. 50 degrees or so. I was in leggings, armies, a hat, and even a jacket. I warmed after after that and was down to shorts for the last 40 miles.

Lots of highway riding but good shoulder and few cars. Buckhorn Road was awesome and I then did about 10 miles of gravel. I saw the sun in the last couple of hours. It was the first time seeing it in three days.

I started out on the coast of Lake Superior and ended on the coast of Lake Michigan.

Our campground is great and it is sunny and beautiful now. There was also really nice showers here. I made spaghetti and we ate it while watching a summary of Stage 5 of the Tour de France. After dinner we walked down to the Lake Michigan beach with our chairs, watched the lake and read our books. We mostly just watched the lake, and Sheri got a phone call from Derek and caught up with him.

Michigan is the only state (except for states with islands) that consists of two separate land areas. It looks strange. The obvious question is “Why isn’t the UP part of Wisconsin?” since it is adjacent to it. It probably would have been if not for a faulty survey. When Michigan (and Wisconsin) were just parts of the Northwest Territory, the border of the territory was officially the latitudinal line that extends to the east from the very bottom of Lake Michigan. The original survey for this line was horrible and trended well to the north, so that Toledo was south of the line and therefore part of Ohio. When Michigan was applying to be a state, the governor of the territory was adamant that Toledo was in Michigan and sent troops to occupy it. Ohio responded with their troops. No shots were fired, but a sheriff was stabbed in a voting dispute. This is known as the Toledo War — over the Toledo Strip — even though not a single shot was fired.

The governor of Ohio had a lot of pull in Congress and blocked Michigan’s application for statehood. This dispute went on for years until a compromise was reached. In exchange for giving up the Toledo Strip, Michigan would get the UP, which was considered worthless wilderness at the time. The UP turned out to be very rich in iron ore and became a cash cow for Michigan.

While I am musing, I must correct my earlier critique of the gaits of deer. Since then I’ve seen deer run with such variety and such grace that I’m embarrassed that I thought they only walked and hopped. They can trot, canter, gallop, and leap. Oh, the leaping is impressive, huge, graceful jumps of up to 25 feet and as high as eight feet for a white-tailed deer. The hopping is actually known as a stott or pronk. So, if you can “run like a deer”, you are truly a versatile, athletic, incredible runner. Sheri used to run like a deer. She still does, though maybe a slightly older deer.

Here’s another topic that’s been on my mind lately: Loud trucks and motorcycles. I’m not referring to semis here, but mainly pickup trucks that seem to be specifically modified to make a lot of noise. Harleys are this way. They make a tremendous amount of noise compared to the whisper-quiet Honda road cruiser bikes or even the fastest crotch rockets, so the loud sound doesn’t indicate raw power. It’s just loud. I assume this is a call to “look at me”, similar to people that dye their hair green or pink. There isn’t anything inherently wrong with this. We all want to be seen and noticed (well, most of us), but we draw the line at literally yelling, “Look at me!” How close we come to that line, though, varies quite a bit. I assume the people driving these noise machines know that they are annoying 98% of the people that hear them. They aren’t impressed. But, I guess, there are 2% that hear that noise and think, “Wow! Did you see that guy in the super loud truck? He’s so cool.” 

While biking along the highway, I pass by numerous houses, all with mailboxes along the road, some quite close to the road. I guess they are close to make it easier on the mailman. Many of these mailboxes have a small, wooden wall in front of them. I assumed these were to prevent kids from driving by with a baseball bat and whacking the mailbox off the post. I stopped to take a photo of one and the owner asked if he could help me. I told him my theory and he corrected me. “No,” he said, “It’s to protect them against the snow thrown by the snowplows." The UP gets a lot of snow each winter. He told me that they frequently have 2-3 feet of snow on the ground for the entire winter.

Today I went over 2700 miles for the trip and have about 1000 miles to go. That’s some serious progress. I’ve also done over 88,000 vertical feet, which, while a substantial total, is a tiny amount for so many miles. 

Thursday, July 7, 2022, Day 37:

Today’s goal was to make it to St. Ignace, which is on the norther side (the UP side) of the amazing Mackinaw suspension bridge — the longest suspension bridge in North America. Sheri found us a goal campground and I needed to ride 88 miles to get there — the same distance I rode the day before. 

I saw a lot of dead animals today: turtles, porcupines, birds. I rode highway the entire day. Really wide shoulder but not my favorite riding as there was a lot of traffic at times. There are many nice roadside parks though. These all have well-maintained lawns. Lake Michigan feels and smells like an ocean here. It has beaches and even some wind-driven waves.

It was coldish and clammy today, despite starting out in perfect weather and nice sunshine. That lasted less than ten miles. Maybe only five. Then it was in the low 60s and overcast the entire time. We've been hearing about all the extreme heat covering huge portions of the US and we've avoided it completely so far. I guess that is not surprising being this far north, but it has been super hot in Minnesota and North Dakota and other northern areas...just not when we've been there. 

Tomorrow we head due south and it should get progressively warmer, but hopefully not too warm.

Friday, July 8, 2022, Day 38: The Mighty Mac

The Mackinaw Suspension Bridge is the longest suspension bridge in North America, and in fact the entire western hemisphere, and the fifth longest in the world with a span of 8,614 feet. The total bridge length, including the non-suspended parts, is 26,372 feet or almost exactly five miles long. It’s known as the “Mighty Mac” and bikes are not allowed to cross it. Hence, we tossed the bike in the car for the crossing. If you didn’t have a sag wagon, you can take a ferry from St. Inge to Mackinaw City.

We were up and out of the campsite by 7:40 a.m. I rode over to the ferry dock and Sheri drove over there. We were taking the ferry to Macinac Island — which is in Lake Huron, as it sits east of the Mackinaw Strait. It’s a beautiful island with plenty of nice, paved roads, including an 8-mile loop that circles the island and it has NO cars! Most people seem to rent bikes as soon as they get off the ferry, but we were bringing our own. Others walk or take carriages (lots of these) drawn by huge draft horses. It’s a big tourist location, but does have permanent residents, though not many in winter. My Uncle Bob got married on this island that is a popular wedding destination. 

We biked the island loop and it was great. Nearly perfect weather made the riding very enjoyable. Plenty of people were on the road and the one hiking trail we did (to a very cool rock arch), but not nearly crowded. We rode up to Fort Macinac and learned a bit of history. The British first built the fort in the late 1700s but ceded it to the US after the revolutionary war. The fort was retaken by the British with the help of lots of Native Americans in 1812, and the fort commander didn’t even know there was a war going on. He surrendered without a fight to avoid a possible massacre. 

We also rode up to the Grand Hotel which is huge and has its own golf course. The grounds here and everywhere are impeccably maintained. Flowers and manicured lawns are everywhere. The Grand Hotel has a strict dress code after 6 p.m. Gentlemen must be in a coat and tie and ladies cannot be wearing pants. That reminds me of the Thirty Rock episode where Jack Donaghue (sp?) is in a tuxedo at work and Liz Lemon asks him, “Are you wearing a tux?” and he responds, “Lemon, it’s after six. I’m not a hillbilly.”

Before leaving the island we bought some fudge. Apparently this island is famous for it and they have so many different kinds. It turns out that Sheri loves fudge. Who knew? 

Back in St. Ignace, still in the UP, we headed over to a park for lunch. The park was right on the shore of Lake Michigan with a tremendous view of “The Mighty Mac.” Afterwards, I put my bike in the car, because bikes aren’t allowed on this bridge. There is no walking across this bridge either, as there is no walking/biking path, like on the Golden Gate Bridge. In fact, the edge of the bridge is so close to the roadway that cars have fallen off this bridge and people get nervous about it in high winds. Even Sheri preferred to drive in the middle lane.

Immediately on the other side, we got off the highway (I-75) and I got on the bike. We were now on the Lower Peninsula (no one calls it the LP) and would head due south for the next 350 miles. I immediately got on the North Central Michigan rails-to-trails route. This is a smooth, firm, crushed-gravel trail that runs for 65 miles. It is in forests but also along the shores of lakes, including the large Mullet Lake. Riding down along this lake, I was impressed with so many nice houses, so well maintained, along the lake front. I rode along this for 10-15 miles and it was very scenic. It reminded me of one of my favorite movies: Breaking Away, though I know that movie was set in Indiana. It was quintessential middle America. 

I stopped to take a photo at one point and a lady was out tending her garden. She said that her house was a former train depot. Cool. I marveled at the great location and she said, “Isn’t Michigan the best?!” That got me thinking. It seems that most people think they live in the best place. The two forestry guys we met in Wisconsin had lived in California before and I asked why they returned and they said the same thing: “Because Wisconsin is the best place to live.” I think the best place is Boulder, Colorado. This is a great situation, for people to be so happy with where they live. 

Sheri went ahead and found us a campground, at her third choice, in Wolverine. Wolverine. What a perfect name for a town in Michigan. Now if I could only see one of these… She then came back to give me some support. I didn’t need it, but I love seeing her along my ride. We met at a beautiful park right on the lakeshore and ate second lunch: McDonalds. I still had 18 miles to ride and kept going down the trail. I was listening to a Great Courses book about the history of Science Fiction. I pedaled easy and just loved the movement. Derek reached out for beta on the Petit Grepon and I called him and we chatted for at least fifteen minutes, all while I was riding down this glorious trail.

Sheri was waiting for me at the road to the campground, to make sure I found it, as we had a very weak signal here. I took a shower and Sheri did a workout with weights. I just read in the paper that the big star of the latest Thor movie was Natalie Portman’s arms. Muscles are in on females and Sheri has some guns. 

We had a simple dinner, read our books and retired to the tent.

Saturday, July 9, 2022, Day 39:

We awoke to roosters this morning. Honestly. I got out of the tent and saw four or five chickens and at least one was a rooster (can there only be one?) and it was periodically announcing the morning had arrived. It was cold — in the 40’s — but I didn’t see a cloud in the sky. That’s common in Colorado, but this was maybe the first day of the entire trip where I noticed this, including in Montana. I was sure it wouldn’t last the whole day, but the forecast was brilliant: sunshine all day long with a high of 77. 

I rode the last 16 miles of the North Central Michigan trail this morning. At one point a paved path appeared parallel to my crushed-gravel path and I veered onto it. This was a mistake, for after a half-mile or so, my path ended and there was quite the brush barrier to getting back to the real trail. There were even manmade stacks of branches to prevent getting there, but I stubbornly pushed through, scraping my legs and possibly picking up a tick, which I’d later find in the shower (I don’t think it burrowed into me, though).

I found Sheri waving me down after just twenty miles. She thought she was in Waters, but was seven miles north of it. I was surprised to see her this early but always happy to see her. I had a drink and a snack and we made plans to meet in Grayling, 24 miles away.

Quiet roads and some nice shoulders got me close and then I picked up a paved bike path into the northern part of the town. A short stint on a busy street brought me to a park where I found Sheri sitting in a camp chair in some shade. She had another chair for me and an incredible assortment of food: two breakfast sandwiches, chocolate milk, cinnamon roll, donuts, Coke, etc. We stayed here over an hour, chatting and eating and resting.

Our final destination was a campground at the southern end of Houghton Lake. It was 27 miles away and we’d just meet there. I took off on the bike and immediately ran into trouble. My first route was supposed to take me on the Railroad Road. The route ended at a railroad yard of sorts, but there was no road here. I searched around for an alternative without luck and then tried to take an alternate route suggested by Google Maps, on the other side of the Interstate. This route ended after only a mile at a closed gate with a “Private Property, No Trespassing” sign. Next, I figured to just get on the Interstate for a couple of miles to the next exit. It was the most direct path at this point. Unfortunately, there was a sign barring non-motorized vehicles… I briefly thought about viewing my legs as motors, but relented and turned back to the north.

I rode north, back through Grayling, past the park where we’d had lunch to highway 72 and took that east to a side road that had a “Bike Route” sign and took that south and west a bit to where I came across the start/finish of a Gran Fondo. I talked with a nice lady with a fancy time-trial bike that had just finished her first metric century. I congratulated her and asked for directions. She set me straight.

I rode out to highway 93 and then south on that to Military Road, which indeed had a number of military vehicles on it (we were near a base). The shoulder was minimal, but the traffic was even lighter. As I rode south, I saw a number of riders coming back to the north, perhaps completing the longer 100-mile ride. I waved at each cyclist as they passed by. I was finally on track and headed to camp.

My Google Maps tried to direct me down one tiny, loose, dirt path, and I rejected that idea. I stayed on the pavement. It was a lonely road and I could ride in the middle of the lane where the pavement was a bit smoother. Eventually, I crossed over a highway and got on the West Shore Lake Drive. It was great. I passed by house after house in a residential area. Each house had a dock and a boat. I continued on this until a mile from the campground where I had to veer west a bit. Here Google Maps tried to take me down another non-existent road, but that path ended after less than 100 feet, so no big deal.

I found Sheri at the campground, tucked into a densely-wooded alcove at the far end of a small grassy clearing. There was a picnic table here, but it wasn’t clear what, if anything, the campground had done to actually create a campsite. They had a shower, but it wasn’t the best I’ve seen. Other than the tiny size, spiderweb, old rag, and smell, it was also quite dirty. But it did allow me to wash a tick out of my head. Perhaps the tick was already in the shower. Too bad the spider didn’t get it.

We walked over to a KFC and had dinner. This was nice, as the bugs were plentiful at camp and we avoided cooking and cleaning up. I ate my usual 2000+ calories for dinner. This was on top of the two donuts and chocolate milk I had after finishing my ride. It really is remarkable that I’m not fatter than I am. I just can’t be burning the amount of calories I’m eating. Seriously. The riding I’m doing is too flat to be burning this much. Maybe I’ve become a more inefficient cyclist… This wouldn’t be such a bad thing, as it would allow for a greater donut intake. Life isn’t all about donuts, but I’ve come to realize that they are an essential part of my happiness. Not quite up to Sheri’s level, mind you, but key.

Sunday, July 10, 2022, Day 40:

In the 40s again this morning, but it is supposed to crack 80 degrees today. We’ve camped for five nights in a row and plan to hit a hotel in Midland tonight. My route is just 74 miles long and the last 30 miles of it will be on the Pere-Marquette Rails-to-Trails route. This is paved, flat, scenic and rated one of the top 25 Rails-to-Trails routes in the US. That sounded like heaven.

I rode out of the campground in chilly conditions. I felt great in the sun, but whenever I was in the shade, I was a bit cold. I knew it wouldn’t last though. It spurred me to ride a bit harder in the shade to generate my own heat. I rode 25 miles to a great park in Harrison, where Sheri was waiting for me. We spent an hour here, eating and relaxing. It was a decadent break after only 25 miles but would be my only support stop, as Sheri wanted to ride some of the trail as well. Her plan was to drive to our hotel in Midland and then bike back towards me on the path.

I eventually rode on, along roads with little traffic to Clare. I was follow directions to the trail when I sensed a disturbance in the force. My donut senses were tingling. A shop was nearby. Sure enough, I found the “World Famous Real Cops and Real Donuts” shop. I had to stop. The shop was located right on main street with al fresco seating on the sidewalk. People filled the tables and were enjoying all manner of donuts. I tried the door but it said to go to the door on the left. That door told me to go further left. Then another going left. When I finally got inside I found a massive line. I don’t know the speed of the line, but it couldn’t have been quicker than 15 minutes. Maybe 30 minutes. I was meeting Sheri, so I suppressed my strong donut urge and moved on. Sheri trumps donuts…barely.

I got on the path, which was really wide, maybe 15 feet. I was cruising along, listening to my podcast on life in the universe (spoiler alert: probably just Earth has life), when I spotted a recumbent bike ahead of me. I figured I’d reel them in quickly enough and chat. I did not. I increased my effort and slowly closed the gap. Very slowly. Too slowly. I put in considerable more effort and eventually ran this guy down.

Dave lives in Midland and was on his way back from a 40-mile out-and-back ride. He rode the recumbent because of hip problems (he needs a replacement). He told me about the LPGA golf tournament in town, which was probably why rooms were harder to find and more expensive. This tournament is a unique two-person, team format. Dave has lived in Michigan his whole life. He runs a construction company. I asked him how he likes living here and he responded, “I live in Florida 4 or 5 months of the year.” That sounded like what Sheri wants to do with Colorado: abandon it for winter and spring.

Dave stopped to use the bathroom and I was thankful to be able to lower my speed. Dave, who was 64 years old, was pounding out an 18-19 mph pace and putting some stress on me. I was using “Find My” on my phone to locate Sheri and while she was getting closer to me, it didn’t look like she was moving. Indeed, she had biked far enough and was taking a break. I met her and we rode the remaining 8 miles to the hotel together. Google directed us onto a fitness path that was only three feet wide. It was really twisty and fun to ride. Sheri got in twenty-one miles — her longest ride in at least a few decades. No problem for her, though.

We were able to check into the Hampton Inn at 2:30 p.m. While I ate and did nothing, Sheri went and did all the laundry. Yes, yes, I’m spoiled. I didn’t just lie there, though. I took a shower and gave myself a badly needed shave. So, you know, I was working too.

We walked two minutes to dinner at Panera and each had a salad with our sandwich. We haven’t eaten many salads on this trip. Back at the hotel we watched an episode of “Alone” on this History challenge. We watched a number of these seasons and enjoy the show quite a bit. We also watched a summary of a couple of Tour de France stages, though we are still a few stages behind in the results.

Sheri thought my legs would benefit from a soak, so I went to the pool and sat in the jacuzzi. Shortly after I got there Jason (four kids of 11, 8, 6, and 3 years old) arrived. He’s working on the video production for the LPGA tournament. We chatted briefly, as I was only there for a 10-minute soak. I did see him at breakfast the next morning as well and we exchanged emails and websites.