Today we are scheduled to be picked up by our son, Matt, who is on-call for work this weekend and pulled an all-nighter on Friday night, so we don’t expect him until after 6:00pm.  We are “camped out” in the lobby of the Riverview Inn, where we stayed last night.

This morning, we took the opportunity of a “no-ride” day to ride about 8 miles, touring the city of Oconto (Population 4300) to get another look at the historic old Victorian houses and other prominent buildings, plus the old downtown main street we missed when we came in yesterday. Even at the slow pace of bicycle travel, sometimes it takes a bit more time and side paths to actually see the small towns we pass through.

We noticed a prominent building at the “Y” between Main and Chicago at the west end of downtown: overnight, we found it was the first ever Christian Science church, so we needed a photo and closer look.  We also went back an circled by Beyer House, now a museum, and discovered that, in addition to a guest house we saw yesterday, there is a carriage house, large gazebo, and a World War II battle tank at the back of the two square-block property.

We also checked out the Catholic Church, Oconto County Court House, and a few other prominent houses on Main before heading to the municipal airport west of town to check out the fly-in, tractor, and custom car show to be held later in the day.  We returned to our hotel via a short bike trail along the freeway and along the river.

We packed up for car travel, checked out, and sat in the lobby to await pickup at the end of the day–had we known we would be waiting all day, we might have spent the day at the fly-in, but it was nice to be indoors most of the day, after two weeks out in the sun and wind and rain.

The morning’s excursion puts our total mileage at just about 390 miles. Despite coming up short on our goal, this has been the longest bike tour we have ever taken, exceeding the 1987 Seattle-to-Portland (200 miles in two days), 1988 Glacier N.P. and Canadian Parks tour (310 miles in two segments, 40 and 270, respectively), and 2011 Florida Keys tour (160 tandem + 76 single), as well as many other two-day 100-150 mile weekend tours in the mid 1980s and mid 2000s and the 2007 Skagit/Klamath Falls/Rogue River segmented tour, approximately 225 miles total over two weeks.

Our tenth day of riding without a break dawned cold, but warmed fairly quickly. Trucks were again as annoying as mosquitoes, but much more dangerous. The narrow shoulder did not get any wider.

After about an hour of riding, we heard the tell-tale “pssht-pshht-pshht” that signaled a flat. When we examined the rear tire, we found that riding on the rough, sharp limestone trails in North Central Michigan had completely worn the grooves down to the Kevlar belt, and that a chunk of tread just outside the belt had been completely sliced away, exposing the cords, and, eventually, the tube. Fortunately, we do carry a spare tire, a folding model that is slightly lower pressure rating.

Spreading our tarp on the gravel shoulder, we managed to replace the tire and tube fairly quickly and were on our way, but on-road repairs always cost time and energy, to the rest of the day was hard.

We finally arrived in Menominee, Michigan, to find the road detoured. We weren’t sure where the detour came out, so we tried to parallel the closed section through side streets, but ended up backtracking a lot, before finding the detour simply brought us out to the same street we would have turned on, anyway, which was U.S. 41. At the edge of town, the shoulder again disappeared entirely, but we turned right into a residential area soon, crossing the railroad.

While taking a water stop after turning onto a residential street, Bruce, a local retired cyclist, stopped to chat. We got directions from him to Schloegal’s, a waterfront restaurant he recommended, and to the local bike shop, both just a few blocks off our route. To get to the restaurant, we crossed back over the tracks once more, waiting for a train this time, then walked our bike two blocks down the busy highway sidewalks to the restaurant. The food was every bit as good as promised, and we were soon ready to seek out the bike shop. Just then, Bruce appeared, with a bag of fresh pears picked from his own trees, and led us on the shortest route to the bike shop.

Of course, small town bike shops do not have Schwalbe 40-406 high-pressure tires in stock, or even a close substitute, so the owner marked a local map with directions to the bike shop in Marinette, Wisconsin, just across the border. We quickly got back on our mapped route (for which we only had a hand-written cue sheet), and we crossed the river (bike lane on the bridge!) into Wisconsin.

Despite the map, we got lost in a maze of oddly-angled intersections and had to backtrack a bit, before finding the bike shop in a largely residential neighborhood. They had a 40-406 tire, cheap no-name brand with a lower pressure rating, but it would do for a spare, so we discarded the damaged Schwalbe and packed the new emergency spare, which we hope to never have to use.

Following the county map to Peshtigo, we got disoriented a bit, as the old road had been displaced by a Menard’s: we ended up making a U-turn at the highway light and ducking down a walkway to the re-routed street. At the next crossroad, we had to cut through J.C. Penny’s parking lot to keep on the old road. Finally, we followed the quiet country road parallel to the US41 freeway for a few miles, then passed under it and turned on the business route into Peshtigo, a charming little riverfront town. The Edgewood Motel was at the edge of town, but close to a laundromat and grocery. It was also the cleanest and best-appointed of the “mom-and-pop” motels we have been staying in. Of course, we chose to eat from the groceries for supper, and have a light breakfast of yogurt and bagel before setting out into the cold, clear morning on the next leg of our journey.

After a brief drizzle and the hill on the way to US 2, we headed for Gulliver, where we made a Gatorade stop and chatted briefly with a fiber optic cable crew before turning westward once more toward Manistique, the first “real” town since leaving St. Ignace. Outside Manistique, we stopped at the local airport to check the weather radar, as thunderstorms had been predicted. We also spotted a cow sculpture and scarecrow in a field–local folk art.

We also saw two bike tourists headed east as we came into town. We lunched on hot pasties (the first one we bought at St. Ignace and ate at Epoufette had been frozen and thawed in our panniers) at the huge Jack’s supermarket. We came out to a steady drizzle, which abated somewhat as we turned north on Michigan 94 and then west on county road 442, following the Adventure Cycling map. Leaving town, we saw another bike tourist headed east. The county road climbed gradually eight miles to a corner gas station/fishing supply store, where we replenished our Gatorade and water supply before tackling the ever steeper hills ahead.

Finally, we reached the summit just north of Cooks, and zoomed through the tiny town, unfortunately breaking a spoke as we cross the railroad tracks. Only a few miles from our destination, we continued on, after bending the loose end out of the way. A stop at a roadside rest let the rain catch up with us, but we also got reassurance from the attendent that we were near our destination, the Big Bay Getaway Motel, the only and last motel for 25 miles. No restaurants, either. We dined on leftover fruit and muffins from breakfast, an apple we had picked up in Naubinway the day before, and the last of the cheese sticks we had carried in our panniers since our stay at Shanty Creek more than a week ago. For breakfast, we reserved a couple of bagels we bought at Jack’s in Manistique, to eat with peanut butter or Nutella we had also carried for the last week and have used for emergency breakfast from time to time.

The next day will be short, as we need to wait for the rain to pass and replace the broken spoke, which involves removing the rear wheel, tire, and tube. There is no telephone service for either of our phones here, and Internet access is only available, when it works at all, at the office at the small mom & pop motel on the beach, where they supplement income from the few travelers who stop with day care. Phones and Internet went out shortly after we arrived.

On Friday, we arose early and shared a bagel and yogurt we had carried with us, then pressed on up the rail trail toward Mackinaw City. The surface was mostly firm, with only a few unpacked fill areas. Still, it took two hours to cover the 15 miles. In the city, the trail was paved, and we surged ahead. At the trailhead, we discovered the reason all the hotels had been booked: tractors.

1000 tractors, assembled for a parade through town and across the 5-mile Mackinac Bridge. Apparently, this is a long-standing annual affair run by tractor collectors from all over the midwest.

We asked directions to get around the tractor parade, and headed for the ferry terminal, which required us to slip between tractors (with the aid of a traffic policeman). After paying passenger fares, plus per-seat bike fare, and and extra fare for the trailer, we boarded the ferry and headed for a unique place in America, Mackinac Island. (Which locals quickly informed us was pronounced Mack-in-Awe, like the city is spelled.)

Mackinac Island is carless. There are none. The island is full of bicycles and horse-drawn wagons and carriages. Teams of horses haul luggage carts from the ferries to the hotels. Porters carry huge stacks of suitcases in handlebar baskets to inns and B&Bs. Stacks of bricks, bags of cement, and tons of horse feed go by on horse carts.

Not having time to ride around the island on the shore drive, we at least rode far enough to see the famous arch rock.

Although the hills to the top of the bluffs were too steep for our touring rig, we did find the road to the Grand Hotel was less steep, and made a trip up to the famous site before getting on the ferry to St. Ignace.
After a mere three hours on the island, we only bought a coffee from Starbucks, having the last of our bagels for lunch. Once on the U.P. at St. Ignace, we rode several miles uphill to our hotel, which was next to a all-day breakfast diner and across from a pasty shop (short ‘a’) and convenience grocery, where we outfitted ourselves with a supply of bananas and sports drink for the next day’s journey west toward Wisconsin.

At the end of the day, we climbed to a viewpoint on the roof of a curiosity shop next to the motel to see the famous Mackinac Bridge, closed to bicycles and motorcycles because of the grated deck and high winds.

After leaving Dorothy and John’s house, we pushed up over steep hills and dirt roads (a shortcut) to get to the rail trail along Mullet Lake. The trail, though flat, continued to be loose material that impeded progress. Even though the nearby highway had a shoulder, we elected to continue on the trail because the view of the lake was so much better.

When the trail crossed the highway near Cheboygan, we followed the highway into town to a shipping station, where we boxed up all our camping gear–34 pounds worth–and shipped it to our son’s house in Washington. The bike and trailer immediately became more responsive. We stopped for lunch/dinner at a home-cooking restaurant down the road. However, it was now late in the day: we had received a recommendation for lodging from the shippers and rejoined the trail a mile or so later, turning off to stay at LeDuc’s Creekside Motel, a family-owned business on the edge of town, for a short day, but with a lot of promise for continuing our trip. We also found there are plenty of small motels along our route, so we wouldn’t be forced to camp to complete our planned route through the U.P.

When we called for reservations in Mackinaw City, we found the entire city booked, with only a few rooms left in St. Ignace. So, we planned to tour Mackinac Island on Friday, which meant an early start and hard ride to get to the island in mid-day for a short tour before continuing on to St. Ignace. However, it also meant that we would make up time from our unscheduled stop in Cheboygan.