Sunday, August 3
Beginning of week 5. I anticipate 3 days travel, with 2 more nights away from home, god willing. :)
I'll post a pic of my odometer from this morning a bit later when I have better Internet. It's a bit shy of 8000 miles for my trip so far. Later today, my odometer ran past 48,000 miles.
This morning at the Thrifty Motel, I met Jimmy. He had a bike like mine back in the day, and he'd like to buy mine when I get done with my trip. He makes lots of money. Jimmy is an independent
tree trimmer. He's the guy that climbs up the tree that needs to come down and begins by cutting off branches from the top. He is contracted out by 3 of the big tree cutting companies in the
area, and he'll even travel out of state to where there has been a storm causing tree damage, for work.
Jimmy is 50 years old and doesn't know how much longer he can do this job. He's had a couple of knee surgeries already. It's Sunday morning and Jimmy tells me that he partied hard last
night and has started drinking already this morning.
I take 23 east out of St. Cloud, route 95 to
Cambridge, 65 north, 107 north, then route 70 all the way to Florence. From there, its route 141 to Norway, where I found a very nice $35 motel room, called the Viking Motel, on Norway St.
Along this route, I leave Minnesota and enter Wisconsin. The landscape changes from agricultural fields, to cottage country with lakes and resorts, just like northern Ontario, but without the granite
outcroppings.
Spooner, WI has a couple of tanks to protect them from an invasion by Canada should we decide to. I pass another small town named Spread Eagle. I kid you not.
In the afternoon, I'm dodging rain clouds and get pretty lucky. I get wet a bit by riding into, through, and out of a shower. In other spots a shower has just blown past or the shower is in front of
me, and I'm riding dry, but on wet and misty roads.
I get to Norway which is just across the state border into Michigan. I'm about 4hoursfromsault
st Marie,another4hours
to Sudbury, and another 4 hours from home. The motel is called the Viking and is only $35. It's a great room for the price. The bathroom, like the the whole motel is dated but clean, and itseems to
be about 3/4 sized. Hard for me to fit mybody on the seat. The rain catches up to me and there's a significant rainfall, but then it clears up later in the evening. It's another beer and peanuts
dinner.
Monday, August 4
Gather 'round readers, this story is coming to a close!
I left Norway early in the morning having had a good rest, even though it was interrupted by a trucker who was staying at the motel, left early, very early in the morning. I left the windows open
for fresh air because the AC unit was too loud. This meant that I was able to hear his truck warming up. Funny, when he took his truck to get cigarettes earlier in the evening, he didn't bother
to warm it up for 15 minutes then.
A cool morning, after last evening's rain shower, again I wished I had worn my extra long sleeved shirt. Just out of town, I saw a fox scamper across the road in front of me. I stopped to take
this photo of a bear sculpture.
Several miles down the road, I had a bigger wildlife scare. I rounded a corner and surprised a wild turkey on the road in the other lane. Being as clever as a turkey is, it decided to take off
towards me. It was at my head's height, but a few feet in front of me, when it crossed my lane. That could have been interesting.
Route 2 runs along the Lake Michigan coast for a while, and the coast was a sandy beach. Cars were stopped along the side of the road and people were enjoying the narrow strip of beach.
Another interesting sign. I love these weathered hand painted wooden signs.
Where route 2 connects with interstate 75, I stopped to get gas, and my some sweet fudge for my sweetie. One can see the mackinaw bridge from there, but I would be heading north for the border
instead of south over the bridge.
I crossed the border without even having to take my helmet off. I pilled up the bike, shut it off, and began to undo my chinstrap, but the border guard told me not to bother, looked at my
passport,asked me how long i had been in the States for, and welcomed me back home. The last time I came back into Canada, the border guard was ticked off because she had to tell me to take my helmet
off.
I took highway 17 east from Sault
St.Marie through Thessalon, Iron Bridge and Blind River. Trip advisor on my ipad using a Tim Horton's wifi in Blind River told me that both motels listed were asking $80 a night. I decided
tocontinue on to Espanola. Along the way there is a town called Spanish, with a roadside motel, so I stop to ask about rates.
$68 for the night. I hesitate. "Are you a senior?"
"Almost," I answer positively.
"How old are you?" I was asked.
"57."
"That's senior around here. You're over 55."
This is the first time ever that I've experienced this societal deference to age, and I'm feeling ambivalent about it.
"With senior discount, the total is $62."
"That's still pretty steep." (I've still got the option of continuing to Espanola.)
"Do you need a recite?"
"No."
"Can you pay cash?"
"Yes."
"$50."
"Deal!"
Here is my Northern Ontario, Spanish River dinner, because Canadian gas stations don't sell beer.
Tuesday, August 5
I should be home by tonight.
This morning, I remember my extra jersey, which is good because its a cool morning and it stayed cool all day. I ride past Espanola and I ride to Sudbury where I need to gas up. The highway signage
for services for travelers is very poor. I take the first Sudbury exit heading south (there is no indication how many Sudbury exits exist) in search of gas. I ride about a mile into an industrial
section, and turn around to get back to the highway. I pass a second exit that has no info, but doesn't sound promising. I take a 3rd exit and have to ride a mile into a busy downtown intersection
just to get gas. The US seems to be better organized and set up to cater to travelers.
Back to the highway via an awkward entrance just beside a poorly marked highway exit, and then in a mile, there's a dinky little sign for Toronto highway 69 turn off, with no indication where the
main road is headed. I take it and its the right one, but I hate being uncertain of what's going on because of poor/inadequate highway signage.
Along this route to Parry Sound (and further south to Orillia) I encounter the most aggressive and impatient drivers on my whole trip. I mean, relax, most of you are in cottage country on
vacation.