What we planned as a “rest day”–actually, a short 17-mile day–turned out quite differently. We headed out into a crisp, clear almost-fall morning on quiet County Road Y, which turned straight south until it reached the lake, where we stopped at a county park boat-launch and campground.

Now completely at the mercy of Google Maps bicycle mode, we left the main road onto a narrow country lane, chip-sealed, but not rough like the roads back home in Washington.  After a mile, we came to a “T” and turned south again on a “rustic” lane, barely wide enough for a car to pass a bicycle (one did), such that the tree canopies touched overhead in places.

The lane ended at the edge of the city of Oconto, where we joined the main “back road” into town, passing by newer homes and the hospital/medical complex before entering the historic downtown area, with huge Victorian homes and churches lining the streets.

Our route jogged past a school and ended at the 110-year-old Farnsworth Public Library, where we stopped for the morning to catch up on Internet duties.  Leaving the library, we headed west toward the highway business bypass, where we had late breakfast at Wayne’s, a venerable old “comfort food” and pie establishment where many of the regulars no longer fit in the booths.

We decided to opt for the Riverview Inn nearby, formerly a Ramada Inn, which was more expensive than the mom-and-pop on the edge of town, but close to shopping.  Checking in, we discovered that this weekend is a Green Bay Packers home game, so we were unlikely to find any lodging in Green Bay, 37 miles further on, and at inflated prices if we could, with a two-night minimum for the weekend.  A quick check on-line showed no availability within the maximum distance we could ride in a day.

So, we decided that, instead of shortening our trip to end at Oshkosh on Tuesday, as we had decided after realizing we needed a really short day to recover from 11 straight riding days, we would need to see if Matthew could pick us up Saturday, four days early.  Thus, our continuous tour ends at 382 miles (615Km).  We plan to ride some on Saturday before being picked up in the afternoon and will ride around Oregon next week, maybe even one more long (70Km) run to catch the train to Seattle next Friday.  Stay tuned.

The main goals on a bicycle tour are:

1) to not die.  This means selecting low-traffic routes if possible, being vigilant and cautious, dressing appropriately, and keeping hydrated and fueled sufficiently.

2) to reach the day’s goal with enough reserve to ride a bit more if necessary, and fit enough to ride the next day.  This means selecting a reasonable goal attainable with moderate effort, and allowing time for repairing minor breakdowns.  This was part of the reason for some of the short days–the next town or available lodging beyond the nearer one was too far.

3) to have fun: this means picking a scenic route, taking the opportunity to meet interesting people along the way, and to not push too hard, even if it means pushing the bike from time to time.

4) to realize it isn’t about the bike: if it isn’t feasible to ride (i.e., you can’t satisfy one or more of the three rules above), alter your plans.  Hitchhike, ask a stranger for help, take a bus, or rent a car.  It is never required to finish the ride on your wheels, but it is necessary to end the journey when and where you need to, one way or another.

Leaving Scott’s house early, we rode along the waterfront park, then onto US2/41 toward Escanaba. The shoulder was good until we got to the city limits, where it was four-lane, no shoulder, so we rode for a mile or so on the rough sidewalk. We stopped for groceries, then wove our way through shopping center parking lots close enough to brave the main road for a couple of blocks, where US2/41 turned right and Michigan 35 continued straight.

We thought the “scenic route” along M-35 would be relatively traffic-free, but it turned out that, because it is shorter and there is only one “town,” it is the main truck route south. There was a good shoulder until we reached the Menominee County line, where it shrank to barely as wide as our trailer track. We also entered the Central Time Zone here.

A stop at a roadside turnout with an artesian well was all too brief, as we were immediately swarmed with mosquitoes, the product of a combination of rain and hot, muggy days in the last two weeks. We pedaled furiously for more than a mile before the last of the swarm fell away.

We arrived at Cedar River early, because of the time zone change: the Lighthouse Pub, the only food in town other than the gas station down the road, had just opened, so we had a leisurely lunch (bar food) before checking into the only motel along the 60-mile stretch. The Riverview Inn did not have a view of the river because of heavy brush behind the unit, and, like almost every commercial establishment in the U.P., was for sale. The owner said she stayed open through deer season. Since it was not deer season, we were the only customers. The only WiFi was a community paid subscription service, too weak to be reliable, so we took our computer back across the street to the Pub for free WiFi, but ended up consuming huge quantities of fried bar food in the process.

We retired early, but I awoke about 4:00am and found I could now get good enough signal to fork over $3.00 for slow internet access from the room. Once again, breakfast was from our stash of emergency supplies (the gas station had nothing we could eat).

Morning dawned foggy and muggy, along the lake shore. We had a breakfast of bagel and Nutella in the shared kitchenette unit at the Big Bay Getaway Motel. Still no Internet. I pulled the rear wheel, opened the tire, and replaced the broken spoke. I got a strip of surgical tape from the motel owner to repair the hole in the spoke tape strip and reassembled the bike. The wheel seemed true enough, so we loaded up, after eating our last bagle with peanut butter, all out of our emergency supplies.

The road climbed slowly but perceptibly through the place named Isabella, of which only an old church building remained. Soon, we were far enough away from the lake that the fog lifted to reveal a sunny, hot day. The road continued to climb past defunct restaurants, bars, motels, and gas station/convenience stores, through St. Jacques. At Ensign, the only sign of which was a small log yard, we stopped for a rest at the highest point of the day. Howard and Lorene, our B&B hosts two nights before, stopped on their way to “the city” to inquire if we needed assistance, very thoughtful of them.

We descended slowly to the lake level, turning north to round the bay into Rapid River (which, although full of rocks that might be rapids in spring, was not rapid). We ate lunch at Jack’s EATS, the first restaurant we had seen in 50 miles that was open. Jack’s has been in business for 70 years, and the menu hasn’t changed except for the prices. We saw other customers eating dishes I haven’t ordered since the mid-1950s: hot beef sandwiches smothered in gravy. We chose lighter fare, and headed south to Gladstone.

Leaving Rapid River, we finally departed US 2, which, though it had a wide shoulder, was very busy with trucks, campers, cars, and motorcycles, being the main east-west route through Upper Michigan. Our road roughly followed the shoreline,through the shore community of Kipling (which consisted of closed beach cabins, motels, and a bar that might or might not be open) to Gladstone. By now, the temperature had risen to nearly 90 degrees F (30C).

In Gladstone, we stopped at the Super Value, the first grocery store we had seen since Manistique, to restock. A local cyclist loading up his groceries came over to talk to us: when I inquired about nearby lodging, we realized he was the only Warm Showers host on Highway 2 in the U.P. We had intended to contact him, but had had no phone service or Internet access for days. He invited us to stay before we even identified ourselves, something we have also done for cycle tourists back home in Shelton. What a coincidence and lucky fortune to meet him on the street! Scott led us to his house, a small one-bedroom cottage, and offered us his room for the night. As he didn’t have Internet at home, we went to the nearby public libarary to inform our families and friends that we indeed had not perished on the road and were safe and sound. Scott also joined us, then we returned to his house for a tasty meal of burritos, to which we contributed from our food stash as well. We were awakened at 5:00am by Scott’s Chihuahua-Yorkie mix, who burrowed under the covers, like our cat does at home. After more conversation, coffee, and breakfast, we headed out for our next destination, Cedar River.