This two week long ride is done ... and the idea of heading toward New England has been scrapped.
Much like my ride two summers ago, I have grown weary of traveling alone ... guess I am just not good company for myself. I am tired, and have a desire to see familiar faces and places.
The riding has been terrific up here in the Michigan Upper Peninsula. Roads have been generally very ridable (bike lanes), and the scenery awe-inspiring ... but I did not meet-up with other touring cyclist as I had hoped I would. I did have some very nice conversations with other campers, but that is just not the same as the joyful conversations shared with other cyclist.
Speaking of "other campers" ... (and this is a very judgmental statement) do these "fifth-wheel and large mobile home campers" leave anything at home when they come out to the campgrounds? Good lord!
Once again my riding has allowed me to acquire a new appreciation for American History. I now have a little better knowledge of the struggle for territorial control between the up-start United States, the British and the French. Of course the Native Indian nations took it in the shorts, but that was the nature of European movement into the North American continent. For one thing I did not realize that there had been naval battles fought on the Great Lakes. The struggles between the various nations for control of the upper Midwest fur trading business was ongoing for many many decades.
Another aspect of this area that surprised me was the extent of traffic in the "sea lanes" through the Great Lakes. I stopped for a visit to the "ship wreck and lighthouse" museum at Whitefish Point. The number of ships hauling iron ore and other loads, and passing this Point, ran in the hundreds per day. Due to the great number of ships traversing these lanes of travel, there were a great number of collisions and, therefore, sinkings.
Back in the late 1970's, Gordon Lightfoot had a very successful song about the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald. I had romanticized this ship as a wooden ship that had sunk around 1890, or so. Ah, not so! The Edmund Fitzgerald sank in November, 1975. Another incorrect fact carried in my head for many years. I can only guess as to the amount of other "incorrect facts" I am carrying around.
So, two weeks of riding the perimeter of the Michigan Upper Peninsula, two weeks of very joyous riding and two weeks of some not-so-enjoyable camping. The joy of doing this every summer is in seeing areas I have not seen before, and getting a new appreciation of those areas. This is a very large country, and there is a lot of, for me, unseen areas. Looking forward to seeing other parts of the country in years to come ... but for right now, I need some familiar faces and places
Randy, Interesting that you brought up the Edmund Fitzgerald. Jack and I had lunch at Port Rowan Ontario, and, from a map hung in a restaurant, saw that were very close to a wreck by the same name just south of us off Long Point. I've since learned that this is not the same wreck as in the song.
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