(Mr. Happy, my traveling companion on this trip, pushing his way into the shot. Such an attention seeker.)
It's around dusk as I start to write, my body knowing it is about 9:30pm, but the clock says 10:30. I am in Eagle River, Michigan, near the western end of the Eastern Time Zone. The sun set moments before 10, yet for still being so light outside this small town is already tucked away for the night.
I am on the second floor of the Eagle River Inn, a tiny hotel and restaurant (called Fitzgerald's, arguably the best restaurant on the Keweenaw Peninsula) on the beach of Lake Superior's south shore. My window is open and I hear the gentle, rhythmic rolling of waves onto the gravel beach just yards away. There is a slow moving freighter a few miles out to sea, heading west to drop off a load of something and take on a load of something else. Immediately outside my window pane are four huge spiders on what I can only describe as a community web, tending their expansive trap while the breeze blows in their evening meals.
The view out my hotel window.
Back to the beginning of my day. Around this time every year, Christine travels for an annual work conference. For the last several years I've used it as an opportunity to escape the city, either as a series of day trips, or sometimes as a multi-day holiday somewhere in the region. I decided that since it has been a few years since my last visit to the Keweenaw Peninsula, it was time for a return visit. (It's pronounced KEE-wi-naw, it's that finger at the very top of Michigan's Upper Peninsula that pokes out into Lake Superior) I've been here solo by motorcycle twice before, and once Christine and I came here by car, but this time I traveled in Italian style in my new Fiat Spider convertible (more spider talk, is this a theme?), a proper two-door, two-seat gentleman's roadster. (Copyright S.T., 2017.)
When I left home it was a cool 64 degrees with lots of sun, still fine for top-down driving, and unless it is raining the roof stays down, temp and wind chill be damned. And the temperature never warmed throughout the day, rather dropping a couple degrees as I went. When I entered Wisconsin near Grantsburg the sky had become overcast and light rain began to fall. Up went the car roof. A few minutes later, I was out of the rain and the road was dry, so I put the roof back down. 15 minutes later it started to rain once again, so up went the roof. Then down again... all the way across Wisconsin. You may be asking yourself, "Why didn't he just leave the roof up?" Because it's a convertible! Leave the roof up... pish posh.
At about noon, 220 miles away from home, I crossed into Michigan at Ironwood, and as quick as the clouds and rain appeared at the west entry into Wisconsin, they disappeared at the east exit, and the weather was perfect for the next 150-plus miles to Eagle River.
So, what is it that is so interesting about the Keweenaw Peninsula that keeps me coming back? Well, it could be this:
Ick, 23 feet of snow last winter... I'd rather not think about that. No, this is what brings me back to The Keweenaw time and again, the roads.
And the natural scenery. A view from Brockway Mountain.
There are so many reasons to visit this area (Google is your friend here), but for me it is the roads winding through some of the most exhilarating settings in this part of the country. These are true "driving/motorcycling roads". Quiet, low traffic (especially during weekdays when few tourists are about), and generally good pavement conditions with lots of wiggles and ripples to keep your eyes scanning, and your feet and hands busy at the controls. Especially east of the Phoenix/Eagle River area, the roads become narrow and technical enough that speed limits are brought down considerably, in many cases to 35mph or slower. But this is okay, because the wiggles and ripples come so quickly after one another, along with sight lines that may only be a couple hundred feet long at most (where did that RV/dump truck/ditch mower come from?!), that to remain safely on the road one needs to just... slow... down, and I find this quite enjoyable. I'll take these slow roads any day over a spirit-sucking 80mph interstate. Err, I mean 65mph interstate...
Mr. Happy and me, atop Brockway Mountain. (Don't tell anyone, but it's just a really, really tall hill.)
And have I mentioned the plentiful deer? Their numbers make me think they are as common as rabbits around here. Five times today I had them crossing or running alongside my path of travel. A sixth wasn't so lucky, but not by my hands. Slow down and enjoy the ride, and the wildlife. By the way, it doesn't matter what you drive- econo-car, minivan, or SUV, if you enjoy driving then the Keweenaw Penninsula is for you. That, and for a dozen other tourism reasons that I'll let you discover for yourself.
It is now very late and my eyes are drooping. It is too dark to see the waves splashing on the shore. The sky is cloudy but there is a sliver of light on the north horizon. The midnight sun coming through a break in the clouds? The lights of Thunder Bay, Ontario, four score miles away across the lake?
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Tuesday, June 20. Today is, well, will be, the first day of summer for those of you back home in the Central Time Zone, as the sun tops out at its northern seasonal terminus at 11:24pm today. For us Easterners (as temporary of an Easterner that I shall be), the first day of summer occurs tomorrow, June 21, at 12:24am. Semantics being what they are, I awoke to the lightening sky at... geezus, way too early! So, I rolled over and within seconds, it seemed, the waves lulled me back to sleep. When my eyes reopened for good, my watch, still on home time, read 6:30. Okay, that's better.
A peek out the window confirms that Lake Superior is still out there, splish-splashing on the gravel shore. 'Tis a bit chilly in the room from the open window allowing the sea breeze to usher in the free Kitchi Gammi air conditioning overnight. Between the chill and the continuous lullaby of the great lake's heartbeat, I slept like the proverbial rock. This is the way life should be-- no alarm clocks and being one with nature. But, you know... with a comfy bed to sleep in, and a screen on the window to keep the big, fat spiders out. Oh, no sign of the spiders this morning, except mine, which is still sleeping in the parking lot.
My car. I don't know if this is a man-type of thing more than a woman-type, but often times when I own an inanimate object that I feel, somehow, has a personality, it only seems right to give it a name. I bought the car, a purchase that could only be a once-in-a-lifetime event, sadly in thanks to the passing of Mom this past winter. (Dad left 4.5 years ago.) I knew my parents well, the same as they knew me. I did everything I could to make their golden years as comfortable and worry-free as possible. They knew how much I loved to explore our region, and I often shared my motorcycle exploration stories with them, much to their enjoyment. After tending to the business of settling their modest estate, I knew two things- #1, I needed to enjoy my 1/7 share to the fullest; and #2, honor their wishes for me to enjoy life, and see as much of the world as I could explore. There wasn't enough inheritance for a 6-month National Geographic Adventure, but there was enough to put a nice down payment on a little Italian ragtop.
This is Via, nickname for Il Viaggiatore, Italian for "The Traveler". It is a 2017 Fiat 124 Spider, a modern take on the small Euro roadsters of the 1960s and 70s that I fell in love with as a kid. I prefer not to think of this car as a mid-life crisis purchase, but as finally having a 30+ year old dream come to fruition. Thanks, in big part, to my mom and dad.
And this is an albino bullfrog at the Duluth Aquarium, a photo stored in my phone near the photo of Via.
The frog has nothing to do with my tale, it's just a funky looking critter. And he helps lighten the heavy tone of the previous few lines. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, good morning...
Outside, the sky is a low, flat overcast, and in the distance there seems to be fog on top the water. As I've been writing, the fog has moved closer to the shore, I can now only see the waves on the water for a couple hundred yards before they are veiled by the fog. Breakfast consists of a bottle of orange juice bought last evening from a small general store in Copper Harbor up-shore about 20 miles, and blueberry muffins and trail mix I brought from home. Eagle River is too small to have a local breakfast establishment, but some surrounding small towns offer breakfast fare if you are willing to go find it. There is also the Jampot, a bakery operated by a local monastery, but they don't open until 10am. The Jampot is just a few miles up the shore from my hotel, and really, it's convenient from anywhere on the Keweenaw, and well worth the visit. This little bakery is what funds the efforts of this monastery. Religiously inclined or not, a stop here for some delicious treats will brighten your day.
http://store.societystjohn.com
And now it is time to get on with the day, whatever that may hold for me!
A photo of the lake side of the Eagle River Inn. I could spend the whole season here.
Same day, jump forward. It's around 4:00pm, and I am in the restaurant of the Mariner North Resort in Copper Harbor, awaiting my combination very late lunch and very early dinner, a pepperoni, sausage, and banana pepper pizza. Aaand, it has arrived.
Good pizza. Better than fast food pizza of which, thankfully, there isn't any within about 50 miles. Enough food talk, now a bit about Copper Harbor. Copper Harbor is the last town at the end of the Keweenaw Peninsula, and "base camp" for all sorts of outdoor recreational activities. Mountain biking (you can even rent one), hiking and camping, sea kayaking, mine exploration, and so on. There is the previously mentioned general store and an outfitter shop for your biking, kayaking, and other outdoor needs. It is a ferry launch to Isle Royale National Park. There are several gift shops, too, and a few restaurants, even a brewery. This tiny town has several motels and cabins. I've bunked twice at the Brockway Inn during past visits. Basic and affordable, but because it is a block or two separated from the rest of the local lodging, it tends to be a bit quieter as well. Stay here if you are traveling on a budget. If you want the best hotel I know of in the region, stay at the Eagle River Inn/Fitzgerald's in Eagle River. Eagle Harbor, between Eagle River and Copper Harbor, is also worth looking into for lodging. Not quite as much happening in Eagle Harbor, but it is a well-kept little town with some lodging and dining.
Back to my day. I spent the day meandering about with only one definite destination to find, my beloved Bete Gris Bay.
I'm going from memory, but Bete Gris Bay, on the south shore of the peninsula, is, or was, designated by the US Coast Guard as a harbor of refuge for ships caught up in foul weather. I'm not sure how much it is still used for that purpose, but I can see why it would be considered so. Every time I've been here the wind and water have been very calm. Making it even better is the fact that a great deal of the surrounding land is protected from any development, and that the end of Bete Gris Road is literally the end of the road on this side of the peninsula. There are a few privately owned lots with homes on them along the road, but I'd guess that several of these folks are somehow involved with the surrounding land conservation.
I can't imagine a more peaceful and pleasant location anywhere other than along the beach at Bete Gris Bay. Needing to make an effort to get here means there are very few people that come and go. On three sides you are surrounded by forested hills, with open water to the south horizon on the fourth. The only sounds to be heard are birds and insects, light breezes, and gentle waves rolling onto the sandy beach. This is a spot where one can sit silently for hours, contemplating life, letting go of worries, and re-imagining dreams. If I had to make a choice of one location to spend the rest of my days, this would be the place. Bete Gris Bay is my harbor of refuge.
Anyway, after finishing my afternoon meal, some of which came back with me for an evening snack, I drove the 20'ish mile return route from Copper Harbor to Eagle River on MI Hwy 26. 20 more miles of quick action, low speed, narrow lane wiggles and ripples. With a bit of strategy one could drive a modified figure 8 circuit consisting of US Hwy 41 on the south, Brockway Mountain Drive in the middle (shown in gray but not labeled on this map, west of Copper Harbor), and MI Hwy 26 on the north, running between Eagle River and Copper Harbor.
Hwy 41 east of Phoenix/Eagle River turns into a dynamic, flowing ribbon of wonderful asphalt with a nearly perfect tunnel-like canopy of trees. There are sections of this highway that ripple so much you won't know that you are mainly heading down hill until you realize the car is being propelled without using the gas pedal. Yee-Haa! Brockway Mountain drive has short steep sections with near-hairpin turns on its east slope, and a gentle, 7-mile meandering slope on its west. Hwy 26 is like that kiddie roller coaster at the summer festival, but adult-sized, bobbing and weaving along the shoreline. Take that route in one direction, turn around and do it the other way, and you've experienced about a hundred miles of the best driving in this country. There are several other nearby stretches through forests and along the lake to explore, but these give the best thrill value. Lac La Belle Rd, west of Bete Gris, around the Pt. Isabelle area, is in pretty rough shape at this time. Some sections of it have asphalt so worn out it is like a gravel road. Tourism being about the only thing this region has for an economy, I can't imagine this main road being in such bad shape for long.
Here is a sample of US Hwy 41, west of Copper Harbor. Undulating and twisting all over the place, over and over again. Oh, my!
Tomorrow morning I will begin the journey back home. The big city, with all its people, all its excitement, and all its stresses and challenges. Maybe I need to come here more often, to clear my mind and forget about things for a few days. Being away from the world for awhile is good for the soul.
Some other snaps from along the way. A Happy Reunion, what a perfect place for one.
Wonderful wildflower patches alongside the forest highways of northern MI.
Eagle River draining into Lake Superior, next to my hotel.
Eagle River waterfall, up the hill from my hotel.
Hello, Spider. They were on those webs again my second night.
Journey statistics-
Time away, 54 hours, 10 minutes (Mon 7:40am depart, Wed 1:50pm arrive home)
857 total miles driven
372 miles, home to hotel (744 round trip commuting miles, plan at least 8 hours each way)
113 pleasure miles (between first arrival and final departing from hotel)
24.7 gallons of gasoline consumed
34.7 mpg average (I could have done better...)
General way points- Twin Cities to Grantsburg, Wi; to Hayward, WI; to Clam Lake, WI (turn at CR GG); to Mellen, WI; to Ironwood, MI; to Wakefield, MI; to Bruce Crossing, MI; to Mass City, MI; to Houghton/Hancock, MI; to Phoenix, MI; to Eagle River, MI. Then let the fun begin!
-Steve.
