Motorcycle Trip around Lake Superior

July 31 to August 7, 1993

Saturday, July 31

The motorcycle trip that Bill Hawkins and I have been planning for several months is about to begin. I have been planning what to take, and how to pack it on the bike, for quite some time. I started packing things onto the bike this afternoon. The bike was just worked on, cleaning and adjusting carburetors, within the last month. But this morning, it seemed to be showing some of the same signs as before-cutting out and missing at low rpms. I'm hoping I just had it over-choked, and that I'll have no trouble on the trip. I'm about ready at 4 o'clock. I say my final good-byes to Carla, she takes a couple pictures of me on the bike, and I head out for Bill's house in Indianapolis, where I will stay the night. The bike is running horribly - seems like the same problem I had when it was worked on. I am almost ready to go back home, call Bill, and call off the trip. I decide to go at least to Bruceville, and hope it gets better - it does, and starts running fine the rest of the way. I have a great ride to Indy. It takes a full three hours even though I stop only once, for about 15 minutes in Martinsville. Bill and Barb aren't home when I arrive, so I watch a little TV. Bill and Barb come in about 8:30. They stopped at a mall, and Bill has a new pair of

black engineer boots he will wear on the ride. We go to bed about 10:30. I am awakened about 11:45 by the phone - four rings and then a message. It's a neighbor lady calling to say the garage door is up, and both bikes are in full view. I go outside, and it's true. I can't put the garage door down without locking myself in the garage. I go back in the house, up the stairs, and call to Bill outside his door several times. No answer. Finally Barb hears me and gets up, and we go outside and close the door. We never do figure out how it opened. I don't sleep well the rest of the night.

Sunday, August 1

I wake up about 6:00. Bill and Barb come down about 6:30. After breakfast of granola, bananas, and coffee (at my request), we get on the bikes and leave by the back alley, as Barb takes our picture. Bill has an eagle feather tied to the back of his bike. I had admired it, so he tied another on my bike before leaving. We lose them both by noon (I hope this isn't a bad omen). Only two blocks from his house, we pass an ambulance on the road, lights flashing. We hit I-65, and before long are cruising along about 75 mph. The bike started great today, and is running well. We pass Lafayette about 9:00. A really sharp 49 Chevy passes us. We see an older man hitchhiking in Bermuda shorts, listening to a Walkman. It clouds up, but soon clears, and the rest of the day is gorgeous. After crossing into Illinois on I-294 we stop for lunch at Burger King, one of those restaurants that is built over the Interstate. I have two Veggie Whoppers, the first I've ever had-they're great. We leave, and from here until Wisconsin is hell - heavy traffic, closed lanes, and 4 or 5 tollbooths that are very irritating on a motorcycle - change is not handy or easy to count. Finally, about 2:30, we arrive at Bob and Peggy's house. Their kids are very excited about our visit, and are hoping we will stay all night. Bob has grayed, Peggy looks better than ever, but neither has really changed. They have a fairly small, but very neat, nice house, with lots of antique wood furniture. They have a Chevy Lumina van that looks just like ours, and they take us on a tour of Kenosha, mostly to see Lake Michigan. We stop for ice cream. I have chocolate custard on their recommendation, and drip some on my favorite Hilly Hundred shirt. We leave about 5:20, hoping to make some more miles and find a good campsite. We ride about 45 minutes to Lake Geneva, a busy tourist town. Downtown is bumper to bumper traffic, and for the first time the bike is not running well. Keeps missing and cutting out at low rpm. We eat supper, and get directions to Big Foot State Park. It's a real nice park, but expensive, $20. We have a nice campsite, and are ready to rest. We traveled about 230 miles today. I shower, call Carla, and write awhile. Mosquitoes are bad, but my old bug repellent seems to be working. We go to bed about dark. There's a beautiful full moon low in the night sky.

Monday, August 2

I awake a little before 6. I slept great last night; it was cool and breezy, with the full moon that lit up the tent. I started heating the coffeepot and was drinking coffee and eating Grape Nuts before Bill was up. I pack the bike a little better today. I put the sleeping bag in the backpack, and rolled the air mattress and ground cover up and put them between the chair and the back bar. We leave about 7:30, and stop in Lake Geneva for breakfast at Speedo's Harbor Side Cafe (great oatmeal). We’re looking out over Lake Geneva, sailboats are in the harbor, and it's a beautiful day, cool and sunny. The bike starts and runs good all morning, but towards late afternoon it's just like yesterday, doesn't run well in city traffic. We still feel a little behind schedule, so we take I-90-I94, and are cruising at 75 mph again. We do make good time. We pass Madison, home of the University of Wisconsin, quickly on the Interstate. It looks like a pretty, clean city similar to Bloomington. About 3:30 we stop in Eau Claire at a Walmart, and Bill buys a sweatshirt, and I get some leather gloves. The weather has become cloudy and somewhat cool. We decide to try to make at least 100 more miles today. From here on, you tire quickly after having ridden all day. I lead for awhile, and we stop after about 60 miles. We flex, and look at the map again, and decide to try to make Gordon, where there is a State park, about 60 more miles. When we get there, there's no place to eat, and the weather's looking better, so we decide to go on to Solon Springs, 8 miles on. We stop there and eat at a restaurant\ tavern. I get a plate of fried onions, mushrooms, zucchini cheese and something else that is quite good. We find the county campground ($8 instead of $20), and get a good spot. Everything goes up faster tonight. We buy some firewood and start a fire. The fire is hypnotic, and before long conversation is flowing about all kinds of personal and philosophic subjects. We have both commented that we feel great - no special aches and pains. We linger in front of the fire, and about 10 it suddenly and unexpectedly begins to sprinkle, so we turn in quickly. However, it doesn't rain much more all night. We traveled about 375 miles today, a long day. Should be good sleeping tonight, cool and pleasant.

Tuesday, August 3

I get up about 6, as usual. There are still a few faint embers from the fire last night, so I gather some small sticks and manage to get a fire going. It's nice, as it is quite chilly. It's a real cloudy, overcast day. I make coffee and Grape Nuts, and sit by the fire to stay warm. Bill gets up about 7:30, saying he had slept great, as had I. We immediately start packing, as it has started to rain. We go back to the same restaurant where we ate last night to have breakfast and plan the day (I use the term "plan" lightly). I mail a letter to Carla at the Post Office, and see a small bank across the street. I go in and get $100 from the Moneymover machine, as I am spending money faster than I expected. We put on our rainsuits before leaving, and soon it is raining. It rains hard briefly, but mostly lightly or not at all the rest of the day. We are through Deluth before 11:00 - it was much easier than I expected. Several miles out of Deluth, we stop at the "Scenic Cafe", overlooking Lake Superior, for coffee and a muffin. The weather report is for clearing weather. We are now riding in typical Minnesota/Canada setting - lots of lakes and trees, little traffic on a two-lane highway. It seems like it's getting colder. We see lots of log cabins, cottages, and resort hotels. We stop in Grand Marias to eat lunch about 1:30. I buy cheap cotton gloves and a sweatshirt (to keep me warm now and give to Carla later). We're nearing Canada, about 40 miles, so we decide to stop at the next log cabin we see. We think it would be nice to be dry tonight, and get out of the tents for one night. But as we ride on, we're not seeing cabins anymore. We stop at Grand Portage Indian Reservation (a small Post Office and general store), I mail post cards and we get directions to some nearby cabins. We go there, but no luck. So we ride on, and shortly enter Canada. The border patrol guard asks us our name, address, how long we're staying, and whether we're carrying any weapons. Our only weapon, Bill's hatchet, is in plain view, so we're allowed in. The road immediately becomes horrible, frequent stops for construction, and the surface has apparently been removed, so that the road is grooved. In the rain, this makes for very nervous riding on a motorcycle. This lasts at least 10-15 miles, and really tires me out. Finally, we get to Thunder Bay, a city of about 100,000, much larger than we had expected. It's cold and rainy, so we get a room at the first motel we see, a Best Western. We clean up (it's great to take a shower), then go out and do laundry and have pizza. The attendant at the Laundromat is an older guy who is very friendly, and fixes us up with soap and lots of advice on the operations of washers, dryers, and money exchange. We get back, watch a little TV, and go to bed.

Wednesday, August 4

I slept well in the motel bed. I wake up about 6. Since my bike hasn't been running well, it's been worrying me that it will get worse. Thunder Bay has a Yamaha dealer, so I've decided to take the bike by this morning and see if they will look at it. First we find the dealer, which isn't open yet, then find the nearest cafe for breakfast. An old man comes in, so bent over by arthritis that his head is literally below his waist. Two Canadian policemen leave as we are eating. Bill says something to them, but they're not interested in being friendly to us. As we're firing up the bikes to leave, a neighboring businessman starts talking to Bill about our trip - turns out he has a Honda Interstate. We return to the dealer, they are very nice, and agree to take a look at my bike. The carbs are "all gunked up", and it will take at least two hours to clean them up. We hang around the shop for awhile, admire the new bikes, and talk to the salesmen a little. Then we decide we might as well go back to the motel. We both ride on Bill's bike, which works pretty well (but I wouldn't want to go 2000 miles that way). It's noon by the time they're done with the bike, and we're packed again. It cost me about $125 American, but I hope it will be worth it. It's great to be back on the road again. The bike seems to be running great. Before long, it starts to rain, so we stop and put on rain gear. It doesn't rain long, but we leave on rain suits for warmth. Before long, when we hit some stop and go traffic, I can tell the bike is no better than before. However, the sun is out, and we are in the most gorgeous country I've ever seen. Huge hills, lots of fantastic rock formations, and lakes everywhere. Lake Superior is still on our right most of the day. We decide to stop around Marathon, and just camp beside a lake somewhere, rather than staying in a regular campground. We stop for gas, buy some canned soup, chips, soda, and cheese, and ask about where we might find to camp. The teenage boy we talk to doesn't quite understand what we're looking for. We get some directions from another guy, and head out. We never really find what he was talking about. Once we did head down a small dirt road that led down to a river, but encountered a huge hole, and had to turn back. Finally we give up this idea, and end up at Pukaskwa National Park. This is a great place to camp - the sites are all surrounded by trees, and far enough from one another that you hardly know anyone else is there. We get set up in a great spot, set up camp, and go for a walk to explore the place. We follow a path down to Lake Superior's edge, to one of the most beautiful spots I've ever seen. The waves are splashing in against the shore, driftwood is all over the beach, and the rock formations near the edge are spectacular. This is the highlight of the trip, and as we will say later, made the whole trip worthwhile. We climb up on one of the rock formations, and just take in the scenery and talk a little. Soon we separate, and we each just absorb the sound and beauty of this raw nature. Bill is sitting and looking out over the water, almost like he is meditating. I take a picture of him that I think will be great (it isn't). We hate to leave, but it's getting late, and so we return to eat. Back at the campsite, it's already starting to feel cold; in fact I put on my cotton gloves. This could be a cold night in the old sleeping bag. You can hear the waves from our campsite, which should make for good sleeping.

Thursday, August 5

Last night was the coldest yet - I had the tent completely closed up, and I slept in a T-shirt and turtleneck, and was still a little cold. To my surprise, I hear Bill say, "What time is it?" before I'm even up, at 5:45. He's usually not up until at least 7. We get up, pack, and have to ride about 50 miles before we come to a restaurant. It's our earliest start so far. The weather is for scattered showers and possible thunderstorms. The restaurant we stop at is great, a little roadside cafe in front of a small motel. The waitress has a tattoo on each arm, and is a little wary of us at first. Bill is great at playing the "good old boy" to show everybody we're OK, and before long she's being quite friendly. I eat my biggest breakfast, blueberry pancakes and potatoes with coffee. As we're eating two Indians come in, appearing to possibly be father and son. As we're leaving, a young man is coming in with an older lady in a wheelchair. Bill helps them with the door. Then we're back on the road. I see a house with an above ground pool. When could they possibly use it, I wonder. We also pass Yellow Brick Road and Dead Horse Creek. We're wearing full rain gear for warmth, but still I'm a little cold. We pass Baby Lake, Mom Lake, and a little later, Orphan Lake. Also, Old Woman River and Rabbit Blanket Lake. Now, instead of deer crossing signs, we see moose crossing warnings. Last night at the park they gave us a pamphlet warnings us of bears. We hung our food high in the hammock, and nothing bothered it. Finally it's getting warmer, and the riding is better. The country is still stunningly beautiful. At a scenic overview we stop and take pictures and talk to two other bikers on Honda 500 Silver Wings with transversely mounted V-twins. One of them warns us to be careful at the bridge at St. Ignace, where we will cross over the toll bridge leaving the northern peninsula of Michigan. He claims a girl in a Hyundi was once blown off the bridge (we're skeptical). We talk to several bikers on the trip - earlier at a truck stop we talked to two men and women on Gold Wings who were traveling west. After the scenic stop, we trade bikes just for a change, and soon we stop for gas. As we were preparing to leave, Bill's bike leaned a little to the right, and before I knew it had fallen over. The windshield is cracked and I feel awful. Bill is amazingly gracious about it - I'm not sure I could be so nice if someone broke my favorite toy. It's ironic, I ride this far with no problem, then have an accident standing still. We later have lunch and decide to try to make it just past Sault Ste Marie, into Michigan, to camp. We've heard of a State park there that supposed to be great, and not crowded. I switch back to my bike. Early afternoon we stop for gas at a "General Store" looking place that sells lots of souvenirs, but also lots of neat stuff. They have lined deerskin mittens I would love to have, but don't want to spend the money on since I already bought leather gloves earlier. I do buy film, and small gifts for the kids. Before leaving, Bill and I take each other's picture in front of the stuffed moose in front of the place. Then, back on the road. Sault Ste Marie is a decent sized city, but not really as big as I expected. We slip right through the city, and cross the border into Michigan. We stop at the first gas station to exchange our Canadian money back into US. As we crossed, we saw a guy on a nice looking white, customized Harley. He also stops at the station, and we talk to him for awhile. He's on his way to a Harley convention in South Dakota. He tells us about his bike - he's spent about $13,000 customizing it. Then we're on our way to St. Ignace. We ride over the infamous bridge- it looks huge, something like the Golden Gate to me. The center lane is metal grating, so we stay in the right, conventional lane. We arrive at the State park we had heard about around 4 PM, and it's the worst-very crowded, no trees, and kids everywhere. We exit the park, have a pow-wow, and decide to ride on and see what we can find. Then we see a sign for a private campground just three miles away. We're skeptical, but decide it's worth a try since it's so close. Amazingly, it's a great place, not crowded, has trees, and is right on Lake Superior. The owner tells us (Bill) his life story. He has just had two heart attacks in the last month, and has the place for sale. He had bought it after retirement for something to do, and as investment. We wonder what he asking, and what kind of money it brings in. Ducks are visiting our campsite, hoping for a handout as we get the tents up. Then we go eat at another local bar\restaurant. Surprisingly, they have a good salad bar. On weekends, Sonny and Cheryl sing there. When we return, I have a great shower - they have a real nice shower and bathroom facility. Although the wood we bought is "slab", Bill manages to get a fire going, and we have a very pleasant evening sitting around the fire. There is an almost full moon sitting right on the horizon, just out over the lake. It was really gorgeous, almost eerie. Again, the fire loosens our tongues and minds to get into all kinds of philosophical discussions. We should be well through Michigan by tomorrow. Riding has never been greater.

Friday, August 6

It was warmer when we went to bed last night. I thought it would be better sleeping than the night before, but by midnight I was cold again. I woke up and put my turtleneck on. I awoke about 6 am. It was very cloudy and overcast, but no rain. We had breakfast at another small local cafe, inhabited by old men shooting the breeze. When we got back and started to break camp, Bill announced that he had lost his wallet. This put an immediate damper on things. He hadn't used it at breakfast because he was carrying some loose money in his pocket. We figured he had to have left it at the restaurant last night, where we paid our bills at the bar. It isn't open yet, but we go there, and luckily the cook lives behind in a small apartment. We awaken him, he comes to the door wearing a Harley T-shirt, and praise the Lord, he has the wallet. Bill thanks him with a twenty dollar bill, and we're on our way again. It's cool, and just starting to sprinkle when we take our first break. We stop at a little cafe on Main Street in Pellston. As usual, people eye us, but are wary at first. I've learned these looks aren't all apprehension - most are just curious, and want to start a conversation but aren't sure how. Bill is great at getting these conversations going. We talk at length to a friendly old man about firewood (he cuts it by the tankful of gas) and first snows (he remembers the exact date of all), and so on. We don our rainsuits before leaving, and from here until about 5 PM it rains steadily all day. My feet were slightly wet from the dew on the grass this morning, and the rubber boots trap the moisture inside. My feet are cold and wet the rest of the day. There's a bicycle tour on the road, and we see bicyclists and sag wagons all morning. We get to Petosky, and the traffic is terrible- bumper to bumper, the rain continues, and the bike still doesn't want to run in city traffic. I'm basically terrified. We have lunch at Elk Rapids, a tourist town that reminds us of Nashville, Indiana. Our waitress looks like she belongs in a nursing home, and never does wait on us. Finally the younger one covering the other part of the room takes our order. I have spinach salad and mushroom soup; Bill has chili and a BLT. We ride some more, and at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere have coffee and hot chocolate. We decide to try to make Grand Rapids, about 100 miles away, and get a motel. We ride on, and when we get to Grand Rapids I wave Bill on to take the lead because I'm not sure of the road we want. He takes us through Grand Rapids, and we keep going. About 30 miles on we stop at a small town near Holland to eat and get a motel. They're all little resort type cottages, and full. The only campground looks awful crowded, all families, and we can't find the entrance anyway. We eat at a place that reminds me of the Bruceville Rod and Gun Club. I order just a baked potato, broccoli, and salad. They bring me a potato about the size of a brussel sprout. Thanks a lot! We get into a discussion about the perceived or real problems of meat eating/raising. Bill doesn't buy the arguments that raising animals causes hunger for anyone. Our discussion is irritating me, but I think it's more from road fatigue than the merits of any thing said. We ride the thirty odd miles to the next town, South Haven, where we hope to find a room. All full. A clerk at one place calls up and down the road, and basically tells us everyone is full. It looks like our present route along Lake Michigan will bring nothing but "No Vacancy" signs due to the tourist season. Niles, almost 50 miles away inland, looks like our best bet. Bill is ready to sleep under a tree, I refuse. This has not been a good day. We head out, dead tired. I try to break the trip down into small segments of 5 miles, and watch the odometer slowly roll. A fox runs in front of Bill, narrowly missing his front wheel. I've decided I will not ride on after Niles if there are no rooms. I consider alternatives - ask the sheriff for a jail cell? I see a sign for a hospital -maybe we could sleep in the waiting room. When we finally come into Niles, it looks about like Bicknell- they probably don't even have a motel. We stop at a convenience store, and the clerk gives us directions, through two stoplights, three stop signs, then turn right, to the area where we will find motels. We stop at the first, an old Holiday Inn. The clerk, a short fat man being hassled by some guests about a missing key and a baby crib, says he will "see if he can find something". Great, I think, he doesn't like our looks. But he gets us a room. I've never been so relieved. We drag our stuff up the stairs, and go straight to bed. It's 10:30 (11:30 local), and we rode almost 400 miles today. But we're a lot farther along than we expected, and should be home tomorrow. I'm ready - I'll need one day to recuperate.

Saturday, August 7

I slept very well last night in the warm motel bed. I got up about 6:30 - Bill is still sleeping soundly. I shave, brush my teeth, dress, and quietly leave to check out the day. It's sunny and already warm. Great! There's a Hardees about half block away, where I have coffee and a plain biscuit, and read USA Today -the only paper available and the first I've read all week. The weather for the Midwest calls for showers, thunderstorms, and clearing tonight. Then I notice it's yesterday's paper. Thank goodness. As I go back to the motel, there are some clouds gathering in the West. Bill is still sleeping. I write awhile. Finally about 8:20 he asks if I'm early or he's late. He dresses, and we go to breakfast at a nearby restaurant. It's now completely cloudy. We discuss the day. He thinks we're still 300 -400 miles from home. We should at least make his house today. We gas up, and head out. I'm wearing just a T-shirt and sweatshirt, the fewest layers in several days. In 6-8 miles we have entered Indiana. Back home again! The clouds clear, and for the rest of the day it's mostly sunny (does that mean partly cloudy?) We ride 30 -40 miles before seeing any signs for Indianapolis, but when we do, it's only about 125 miles - a lot closer than we thought. We're cruising right along. We stop in Peru for gas and a break. Bill buys an Indian motorcycle T-shirt. Some boots that are on sale tempts me, but I don't give in. It's only 75 miles to Indy. We agree to stop right before we get to I-465, where we will probably split up. This leg goes quickly. We stop in Westfield at Arbys. We are feeling a little sad that the trip is about over. We talk of the good times we've had, and agree we'll do it again. When we started this trip, Bill had experienced some problems with the way his bike was running, but it ran perfectly the entire trip. He's now feeling he wants to keep it, rather than get something newer. He talks about having it painted, lowering the rear end etc. As he puts it, "it runs like a scalded dog" I laugh at this, not having heard this expression before. He says he may even call the bike "The Scalded Dog". We shake hands and say our last good byes. I leave first, and take I-465 to State Road 67. Riding alone, I think about the trip and my preparations for it. I should have taken more warm clothes, and worn leather boots, but I don't think that was my entire fault - it was unseasonably cool, even for where we were. Everything I did take rode very well on the bike. Next time I should be able to do a really good job. The time is flying as I cruise and think. I stop for gas in Spencer, my last gas stop. Once into Bicknell, I consider myself basically home. However, I have one more adventure left. About a mile north of Bruceville, only 6 miles from home, I notice the bike is wobbling on the curves. It rapidly gets worse. I stop, and the back tire is flat! I find the large piece of metal, and pull it out with the pliers. I try the canned air, but the hole is too big, and whooshes right out. I walk to the next house, and phone Carla. How ironic, I have traveled 2268 miles in seven days, and broken down 6 miles from home. I get picked up, and later retrieve the bike. But this too was a lesson- the next day I repair the tire myself, and next time I will be able to do it on the road. It's good to be home, but already I'm thinking of next time.