Days 12 – 14, Visitors – Welcomed and Not

Well, I wanted to set my schedule so that I wouldn’t feel rushed, but that’s exactly what happened on Friday. I was on the road by 8, which is actually difficult since it seems to take me an hour at the absolute minimum to get out of camp in the morning if I make breakfast and coffee (which is pretty much a necessity for me). I was heading for the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum at Whitefish Point which wasn’t that far as the crow flies, but due to the poor road conditions in the area I had to take a roundabout route and it was about a 110 mile ride to get there. I wasn’t sure how long they were open, as I hadn’t written it down and I didn’t get cell service to look it up.

I rode the first stretch into a small town called Seney and stopped at the only restaurant in town – a small mom and pop diner. I was hungry again (surprise, surprise), and luckily they had wifi. I quickly found out that the Shipwreck Museum was only open till 6, which was do-able but wouldn’t make for a very relaxing day.

After a much needed second breakfast, I was ready to get back on the road again. As I was leaving, a group of cyclists I had passed earlier in the morning walked in. “Thanks a lot for making us look bad”, an older gentleman joked. Despite the fact that they were all easily in their 70’s, it had given me a bit of satisfaction when I was able to pass them on a steep hill – me slowly but surely plodding along with my fully loaded bike, and them walking up with their bikes, absent of any gear.

It was hot when I left, and the wind had picked up – not in the direction I wanted. I rode for a while and at some point decided that it wasn’t worth it to try to make the Shipwreck Museum. The point of this trip was to explore and relax, not to have a strict agenda and try to see as many things as possible. I slowed my pace, and stopped to chat with another cyclist for a while who was biking from Ontario to Vancouver and had a very similar setup to mine. He told me he was “stealth camping” in the woods the majority of the trip, as he didn’t like paying for campgrounds and enjoyed being able to stop whenever he felt like. This seems to be a fairly popular strategy with cycle tourists, and I made a mental note to try it at least once this trip.

After another extended stop for a snack, some caffeine, and a blog update, I started out on the last stretch up to the campground I was headed to. Since I was heading back toward the shore now, the wind was finally at my back. This seemed like a good time to break out some music as well (for some reason I hadn’t yet used the ipod shuffle I’d brought). The sun was shining, the road was good, and I was feeling great! I was cruising between 22 and 25 MPH for most of the last couple hours, which is no small feat on a loaded bike. The wind was definitely a big factor though. I ended up making it to the turnoff for the Shipwreck Museum at about 6 PM, and was pretty bummed that I had made the decision not to go. I easily could have cut a couple hours out of the day and made it there. Oh well, it was nice not to have to worry about it all day, and it’s just another thing to come back and see later.

View of the lake in the distance from some roadside dunes.

A quick stop at Tahquamenon Falls

I’d been thinking about where to stay for the night, and was strongly considering trying out stealth camping. It seemed like a good option, since I wanted to make it a bit further than where the campground was located. I got to the area I was eyeing up on the map, and started keeping my eye out for potential areas where I could sneak off into the woods unnoticed. Despite the seemingly countless spots I’d noticed throughout the day, I couldn’t seem to find anything decent. The area was low and flat with lots of wetlands and underbrush – not the best for remote camping. Eventually I spotted a potential site and rode quickly down through the long grass to the edge of the woods. As I started looking around, a hoard of mosquitoes – instantly aware of my presence – positioned themselves for attack. It took me about 30 seconds to locate and douse myself in bug spray, but that was enough time for them to do some formidable damage. I’m still using the deet-free Repel Lemon Eucalyptus, and it’s actually pretty effective if you get good coverage with it.

I scoped out the area and found absolutely zero places suitable for placing a tent. It seemed the area had been logged at some point, as there were many downed and rotting trees, along with thick underbrush. I made the intelligent decision that this was neither the time nor place to stealth camp, and headed back to the campground.

Along the Tahquamenon River

Looking up at the clear evening sky

The River Mouth campground at Tahquamenon Falls State Park was actually really neat, with an excellent view of the meandering river from many of the sites. They were fairly secluded, with plenty of trees around to hang food – which has been a necessity for me. I set up and settled in for a nice peaceful night, and opted to leave the rain fly off since it was clear and beautiful out with no chance of rain. It doesn’t really get dark around here until about 10:30, since it’s the far edge of the Eastern time zone. By the time I was getting to sleep it was about 11 PM and finally completely dark.

Just as I was managing to doze off, the neighbor’s dog started barking. Dogs have many different barks; some out of boredom or excitement, perhaps in response to a noise in the distance, but there is one very specific bark that every dog has which means one thing and one thing only: there is some unknown animal very close to me and my people, and we are in danger. This was that bark. Immediately I heard something large and heavy come crashing through the brush toward my site. My heart started racing as I listened acutely to every detail of the sound and my mind tried to run through the scenarios of what could be happening. Only a couple possibilities emerged in that few seconds, with the most likely one being what had been at the back of my mind almost every night so far – a bear. I fumbled around for the headlamp I kept in the tent, about my only defense aside from a can of dog repellent.

The noise was gone for a second as I assumed whatever it was had entered the clearing of my site. Then there was a sudden sound of metal clanking together from where the picnic table was. I had a few things sitting on it, no food or scented items though. “Hey” I yelled, unable to think of anything else. Whatever it was got the message and lumbered off into the brush on the opposite side of my site. Just then I found my light, and pointed it in that direction. The unseen bruin moved off a bit further, and then the noise of the crunching branches and heavy paws slowly faded into the distance. It took a while for my pulse to slow and for me to eventually allow myself to drift off to sleep. I thought about exactly what had happened and what the possibilities were. Although I hadn’t actually seen it, I was virtually positive; I’d had my first close encounter with a bear!

The next morning, I looked around the campsite for evidence. The ground was hard and I didn’t spot any distinctive tracks, but there were some large scratches in the ground and many broken ferns and small plants along the paths where the animal had come into and gone out of my site. I talked to the neighbors with the dog on the way out, and they had no idea anything had happened. They’d heard the dog “go crazy” over something around that time though, and were now a little ashamed that they’d been yelling at her to hush while she was chasing predators away. “Maybe we’ll leave the bark collar off tonight”, they mused. I figured I’d let the park ranger know on the way out too. She was surprised and said they don’t get bears in the campground often, but confirmed that there had been one spotted in the area recently.

Point Iroquois Lighthouse

The ride that day was an easy one, with only a few hours along a mostly flat road to get into Brimley and meet my dad and Melissa, who were flying up for the night. I was a bit tired as I hadn’t slept well, but the excitement of having visitors was more than enough to keep me motivated. I got into the campground and set up, then figured I had enough time to bike out and meet them on their 15 mile ride from the airport. They’d decided to keep with the spirit of my trip and load their bikes and camping gear in the plane, then ride out to the campground for the night. I rode off toward the airport, and after a bit of confusion with the directions they were following and me trying to confirm which route they were taking, I spotted them inching into view in the distance.

Those two look familiar!

It’s pretty neat to be on your bike about 1000 miles away from home, and have visitors come bike along with you, but it also feels like they cheated. You guys aren’t allowed to enjoy biking along this beautiful shoreline, you haven’t put in any of the work! We eventually made it back to camp with all their necessities for the night as well as some additional provisions that I’d requested. A few warmer long-sleeve shirts to replace some of my short sleeve ones, some light freeze-dried meals for when I don’t want to spend a lot of time cooking, and a new Tubus Tara front rack to replace the Axiom one that I’ve deemed unsuitable for this type of touring.

Installing the new Tubus Tara front rack.

Sometimes, you have to improvise.

We hung out around the campground and small town for the evening, exchanging some stories about our respective trips. Even though I haven’t been gone that long, and it was only for one night, it was really nice to have the company. We picked up some groceries at the IGA  across the street from the campground, which is a nice luxury for me. The store seemed oddly placed, until we realized that the crowded campground, with its plethora of RV trailers, probably has a several times the population of the small town it’s located in.

Sunday morning was relaxing, with no real timetable for the day. I was excited to be able to make eggs for breakfast – something that’s normal at home but has been quite rare the last couple weeks. Melissa also cut up some strawberries and bananas for a delicious combination. We decided we’d head back to the airport and drop our stuff at the plane, then head into the U.S. side of Sault Ste. Marie and explore a bit. The 15 miles back to the airport was pretty easy, with light wind and sunny skies. As the three of us worked our way along the country roads, trying to find some kind of equilibrium to our three very different paces, both Melissa and my dad commented on the speeds we were riding. Melissa noted that after biking with my dad she now knows what I must feel like biking with her, and my dad noted that we must feel like he does when he’s biking with his nephew (who apparently rides at a very leisurely pace). Funny how different people’s perceptions can be of a situation.

It reminded me that there are definite benefits to touring along – you can ride at whatever pace you feel comfortable, stop whenever you want, go where you please, etc. You don’t, however, get to have a companion, and just as importantly you don’t have someone with which to split the load of the common gear you have to carry!

Loaded up and heading back to the airport.

Private transportation is great!

We spent a few hours in Sault Ste. Marie before they had to take off to fly back to Wisconsin. We saw the Soo Locks, which I wouldn’t have expected to be so interesting, and ate at a real restaurant. I wolfed down a large burrito with sides, and still managed to be hungry for ice cream after. It was apparently National Ice Cream Day though (yeah, that’s a thing), so there was never really a choice on the Ice Cream. That’s another significant benefit to bicycle touring that might be hard for me to give up when this is done – you can eat darn near whatever you want!

As they packed up the plane for 3 hour flight back and we said our goodbyes, it was harder than I’d expected to watch them leave so soon. I love traveling, but being away from home does have its downsides. I watched them take off and slowly disappear into the afternoon sky, then climbed back on my trusty bike (which was now pretty much filled to capacity with food) to head to the Canadian border and continue on the next leg of this adventure.

Getting ready to take off.

Homeward bound.

Day 12 Route

Day 13 Route