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Old 09-08-2014, 02:57 AM   #1
cb200t OP
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Joined: Jun 2012
Location: Bellefontaine, OH
Oddometer: 220
Lake Superior Circle Tour on a T100

This ride report is late. I actually departed for this ride on Sunday, July 20th. To back things up a bit, this ride was actually supposed to be the culmination of a two year rebuild of my 1975 CB200T. My first motorcycle, and first rebuild. Instead however, through a stroke of luck, I would end up with the Triumph Bonneville that took me on this trip.

On the morning of the 20th, I was giddy with excitement. The Bonnie was packed the night before so that all I had to do was leave. Because of a wedding I was in the night before, I got to bed later than I had anticipated, and thusly was delayed in the morning. I left at around 0930 and rode north towards Hell, and then ultimately Paridise. Michigan that is.



The mileage for the day would be around 500 miles. Not bad for a new rider! My route took me to Hell, MI where I would stop briefly for some lunch. A friend of mine had mentioned how neat it would be if I stopped in Hell and in Paradise, so I told him I would oblige. I didn't stop to take any pictures because I had to make it to Tahquamenon Falls by nightfall.



I rolled through Lansing and once on the otherside took the freeway north towards the Mackinac Bridge. I stopped only for gas, and once at a rest stop for a Snickers/Redbull break. It's funny because it was immediately apparent that the Triumph attracted a certain crowd. Gentleman of a certain age were intrigued by the Bonneville, they would reminisce about the Bonnevilles they used to ride in the 60s and 70s. Many people seemed surprised that Triumph still made motorcycles. I found this interaction to be fun and rewarding. They say you meet the nicest people on a Honda, but I maintain that you meet some of the most interesting on a Triumph.



I kept plugging along northward towards the Big Mac until I finally reached it at around 1700 or 1800. I was secretly hoping I would be forced to ride on the metal grating so that I could look down at the water far below. Such was not to be and I was able to fulfill the promise to my wife and ride on the paved section of the bridge. The weather was beautiful on the way over. No wind to speak of, pleasant temperatures and easy riding. After crossing over into Michigan's northern peninsula, I booked it north towards Rivermouth campground in Tahquamenon Falls. I arrived at around 2100.






I began the new rider dance of figuring out what to do next. Should I get unpacked and set up the tent? Or should I eat supper? Or go take pictures? It was getting dark, so I opted for the latter and pissed off to take a couple of pictures of the Tahquamenon river. I've stayed at this campground before and it always amazes me just how photogenic this river is at dusk.



Eventually, I conceded to the knowledge that I would have to eat something and erect my shelter. No sooner had I set up the tent did the mosquitoes make a dramatic appearance. I wound up cooking dinner outside the tent. I'm sure my neighbors were entertained because in order to keep the mosquitoes at bay, I performed acrobatic maneuvers accented with wild flourishes of my spoon-clad hands in a vain attempt to not get bitten. It didn't work and so began my collection of small, itchy red dots.

I ate supper inside my tent before drifting off to sleep for the night.

More later.
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Old 09-08-2014, 05:14 PM   #2
half_price_beemer
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Great report thus far!
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Old 09-11-2014, 05:35 PM   #3
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I'm in.
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Old 09-11-2014, 07:53 PM   #4
ComfortablyNumb
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Did the Circle Tour last year and went through Paradise.



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Old 09-11-2014, 08:01 PM   #5
cb200t OP
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Originally Posted by half_price_beemer View Post
Great report thus far!
Thanks!

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Originally Posted by i4bikes View Post
I'm in.
Me Too!!

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Originally Posted by ComfortablyNumb View Post
Did the Circle Tour last year and went through Paradise.

It's a neat little town isn't it?
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Old 09-11-2014, 10:38 PM   #6
cb200t OP
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Lake Superior Circle Tour on a T100

The next day got up, stumbled around camp in a bleary-eyed daze and got packed up. This is an entertaining experience for any new riders who haven't done this before. Until you've packed your bike a few times, everything seems to find a different place in your bags. Sooner or later though, everything finds its place. As I was nearing completion, a bald guy wearing yoga pants that came up to his ankles ambled over. Inspecting the packing job, he mentioned that he would like to start touring on his motorcycle. He said he rides a CM400T and that his wife rides a Stella scooter. I eagerly unpacked my stuff and showed him my preferred methods. Or at least the ones that were working for me so far.

I took off towards Paradise, and decided to visit the Whitefish Point Shipwreck Museum. My wife and I had visited it before, so I didn't feel compelled to pay the admission fee to get in to the museum. To satiate my curiosity, I asked a stranger to take my picture in front of my favorite giant rudder.



As I was pulling my helmet and gloves back on, a big, white Suburban pulled up and a guy and his family unloaded. The guy's son asked his Dad: "is that the bike you used to ride?" Being new, I honestly never get sick of this. It's so fun to meet new people and talk about the bike. This would become one of the central themes of the whole trip.



I motored on towards Pictured Rocks, another place I had been to with my wife during a previous vacation. Most of the time I was able to get lost in my thoughts. One of the reasons I love my full-face helmet is that I can just think. The only sounds that intrude are those of the engine of the bike. The steady thrum of the 360 degree twin providing steady companionship on the long, straight miles.



Eventually I came upon another of many unknown turns. I had plotted out the route I wished to take at home and uploaded it to my newly purchased GPS. I am navigationally challenged, and the GPS provided a level of comfort that allowed me to truly enjoy the trip. Only, the GPS occasionally deviated from my intended route. Either that or my planning deviated from rationality, because I kept finding myself riding a Bonneville down two-tracks and dirt roads on greater occasion than I think I would have actually liked. In this case, it was okay because after I exited the dirt road, I wound up looking out over a gorgeous lake on a charming little stripe of tarmac that meandered its way to nowhere in particular.



Now, I am aware that it is wrong to stereotype, and that everyone is out for their own ride and all that, but there are some stereotypes that are just true. Having stopped to take a couple of pictures of myself, I was passed by a group of individuals on cruisers. "Oh cool" I thought to myself "I get to ride in a group." As it turns out, I hate riding in groups. I felt as though we were going at a snail's pace. It was agonizing. The corners, the glorious corners, were being bludgeoned to death by the slow, plodding, burbling, drudgery of the group riders. I'm glad they were enjoying their ride, but I couldn't get away from them quickly enough. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to pass. Mercifully, a detour popped up. Even better, it was somewhere I hadn't been before.





The logslide near Pictured Rocks offers views over Lake Superior that are breathtaking. More importantly though is the old wooden shit they have stashed in the 3-sided barn on the way to the dune access point. The wheels on the log transport had to have been 10' tall. It was amazing. The sledge in there was pretty neat too, but that cart was the centerpiece.



Continuing on down the path brings you to the dune access. A short climb up a sand dune elicits some lovely views down the shoreline. On this particular day, the sun was doing its level best to melt me. Granted, I was wearing my full motorcycling garb, all black in color of course. I was hot, sweaty and was working on a syncopal episode. I did manage to get a couple of pictures worth noting though.












Having successfully lost our intrepid cruisers, and eaten some lunch, I mounted my steed and continued westward. I was enjoying the heck out this beautiful, winding, tree lined road (H58) when I happened across a BMW GS on the side of the road. Having just read the thread about doing good unto others in the Perfect Line forum, I leapt at the opportunity to help one of my fallen brethren. That's what adventure riders do, right?! Right. So, I slowed to a stop to find Bill arguing with what appeared to be a rather disgruntled GS something-er-other. Bill was sweating profusely and fumbling with something beneath the belly of the beast (gas tank, turned out to be a fuel x-over line). He had been wrestling with this for some time and wasn't getting anywhere. I offered my assistance, and before long the x-over line was reconnected. We tried the starter, no joy. I suggested we check for the essentials in engine vitality. It was getting air, it was getting fuel and it was getting spark. At this point I had reached the limit to my knowledge of all things GS and offered to call for a tow. Bill had already thought of this and had also ascertained that there was no hint of cell phone reception.

This next bit, I can only conclude really ought to have bought me some karma points. I offered to ride down to the campground and check for an attendant. If I could find a tow, I would tell them where Bill was. So, off I rode, only to find an unattended campground right on the lake. I had actually been to this campground on the aforementioned trip with the wife, so I was intimately familiar with two things: there is a shipwreck, or rather the bones of a ship, and there are an abundance of sand flies down on the beach. Either way, neither of those factoids was going to help Bill get his BMW to the BMW rally. So, I rode back to Bill and told him of the lack of attendant attendance. I told him I would be willing to ride until I had service and call someone if he had someone in mind he would like to have contacted. He fished around in his saddle bag for a moment and pulled out a BMW Owner's club book filled with phone numbers of other owners who were ready and willing to help their own. Bill gave me three phone numbers to try and I set out again. I wound up riding 25 miles before I happened across a service station. There was no cell phone service anywhere, even on roaming. The gas station attendant was kind enough to let me use the phone after I explained the predicament. I was able to get hold of the gentleman connected to the second phone number, but he wouldn't be able to come until he got out of work at 6pm. I had no way of contacting Bill to let him know that he had help coming, but would have to sit tight for three hours. Knowing that I wouldn't want to wait with no news, I elected to ride the 25 miles back and tell him personally. So, I did. I also gave him a packet of sausages (cooked) and a very melted snickers bar. Bill forced a $20 bill on me in recompense, unnecessary, but it did buy gas a few times. I hope Bill made it okay, but sadly I have no way of following up.

I puttered on towards Munising and visited Sand Point beach. I stopped to admire the lake, and being lazy, wandered out onto the beach still wearing my riding gear. I suppose it could be construed as odd to be covered head to toe in black motorcycle gear. The girl in the picture below seemed to think so. She stared at me the entire time I was there, which was only a moment or two.



Continuing along 28 towards Marquette, you might notice a funny little establishment known as Lakenland. It's a free outdoor sculpture park. If this wasn't enough to attract attention, the fact that you don't even have to get out of or off of your vehicle makes it even better. I love this place. The sculptures are fun, and in line with my way of thinking. It's worth checking out if you pass by.





The sun was nearing the end of its march towards the western sky and I was still a fairly long way from my intended destination. After a quick lap of the sculpture park, and a chat with one of the locals who frequent the place, I hopped back on the bike and converted some more gasoline into miles gone by.



The temperature was a rock-solid 90F the whole day, but something interesting happens in Baraga. The temp plummets 10 or 15 degrees. But only in Baraga, because as soon as you leave, the temp goes back up. I suppose the prudent traveler would just stay there while it was hot, but since I had to be somewhere, I muscled up and kept going towards Houghton.





Having arrived at my destination for the night, some family friends, I ate some quick dinner, drank a couple of KBC brews and whipped off to bed. The susurrus of distant thunder lulled me to sleep, while the coruscation of lightning startled me into periodic wakefulness. An epic day

Until next time...
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Old 09-12-2014, 08:40 AM   #7
i4bikes
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Nice RR, I m reliving an old trip around the lake my wife and I did with some friends.
I agree it's hard to ride with others that have a different style than your own.
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Old 09-26-2014, 07:37 AM   #8
MotherGoose
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Good to see it's still running strong.

My best, and keep posting reports please.
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Old 12-11-2014, 09:41 PM   #9
cb200t OP
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Update

Honestly, I had no idea anyone was actually reading this, and we bought a house and moved and school got in the way. I've re-hosted the photographs and will be finishing this ride report up in the next few days. Sorry for the wait.
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Old 12-12-2014, 08:49 AM   #10
killianm
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Keep it coming!!
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Old 12-13-2014, 10:30 PM   #11
cb200t OP
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Day 3 - Houghton to Duluth

Well, I apologize for the long delay but lets get going again. We left off in Houghton where I spent the night with some friends of my parents'. My Mom is a costume designer, and when there is an Opera performed at the Pine Mountain Music festival, will design and work on the costumes. Through that organization, she has met many wonderful people in northern Michigan, and it was with one such family that I was able to stay.

The next day I had plans to tour the Keweenaw peninsula. My wife and I had been up to Copper Harbor in June on our way to Isle Royale, but I had not actually seen any of the peninsula prior to that. This was my big opportunity to see some more of it. Unfortunately, this was not meant to be as, when I woke that morning, I just got the bike packed before it started dumping rain down. It came down by the bucket full. Even this rain wouldn't have deterred me but for the breakdown that ensued. If you will recall, I bought the bike three or four weeks before the onset of the trip. When I got it, it had 52,000 miles on it. It was also 11 years old at that point. I was riding down a large hill towards the Quincy mine. I thought I could go and do the tour of the mine and wait out the rain. As I was rolling down towards the parking lot, the bike just sputtered out. I still had power, it still cranked over, but it didn't want to start. I pulled over and waited a few minutes, and as I thumbed the starter again, it fired back to life. "Well, I won't be seeing the rest of the Keewenaw" I said to myself as I rode down the hill, back over the bridge and west towards the Porcupine mountains.



I wanted to see the Lake in the Clouds again. I had been there with my wife, and I was missing her. I thought seeing the lake might provide some feeling of her presence. Going west, there was a lot of wind. It was a welcome break from the heat in days past, but I could tell a storm was brewing. As I climbed the hill leading into the clouds, I came across a small traffic jam. A tree had fallen across the road. Thankfully, I was waived by. The lake was still, and the clouds reflected off its surface. To boot, there weren't many people there, so I was able to visit in peace.



My stomach grumbled its protest at skipping breakfast, so I sat down and had some lunch at a picnic table overlooking the bike. It dawned on me that I should probably check the chain tension. On the Bonneville, the pipes obstruct access to the axle nut and the right muffler must be removed to gain access. This presents a bit of a spectacle, and drew a small crowd of spectators.



After getting everything put back together, I took off again back down out of the clouds and back to reality. I found myself heading down a small road in the middle of nowhere (S. Boundary Rd.). It was beautiful, totally inconsistent with most other Michigan roads in that it was smooth, curvy and meandering. I continued along it for quite some time, getting nervous that I would soon run out of gas. Thankfully, that didn't happen and I eventually left the back roads and rounded Sunday Lake to a gas station where I would meet my new traveling buddies.





As I was filling up, two bikes rolled in. A guy on a Kawi, and another on an old Honda pulled off their helmets, and came over to inspect by bike. "Wow, a Triumph!" they exclaimed. Alex and Justin were riding from Windsor to Saskatchewan and we had just happened to run into one another at this junction. What was even more coincidental was that Justin was formerly a factory rider for Atom Lab and helped design and test the frames that a mutual acquaintance built. Small world! We eventually ascertained that we were all going in the same direction and decided to just ride together until it was time to part ways.

As we were riding, I noticed that the CB750's headlight was out. I advised Justin of this, and advised him that it just took a standard size 7" bulb that could be found at any autoparts store, Walmart, Meijer etc. We stopped in Wisconsin to buy a headlight and have some dinner. We stopped at a great restaurant called the Deep Water Grille (Ashland, WI). They had great beer, and better burgers. Afterwards, to wake ourselves up a bit before continuing we grabbed an espresso. Justin decided to check his oil, and in a state of mild panic noted that his oil tank was bone dry! He jetted back off to the autozone nearby and bought a couple more quarts. He decided he would check his oil more frequently after that little scare.







Once we arrived at the camp area I was planning on staying at, it was still light out. The sun was shining, and shone down warmly on our backs. It was a relief from the cold wind we had been riding through all morning, so we decided to proceed on and stay in Duluth.

The barkeep advised us that Fitger's had good beer, a nice atmosphere and that his brother worked there. We parked the bikes after puttering around in Duluth, and walked in to Fitger's only to discover a horrific line and high prices. For a group of guys doing this on the cheap, this wasn't going to work. We walked back across the street to Pickwick's and while Alex and Justin flirted with the wait staff, I concentrated on finding somewhere to sleep. We eventually found our way towards a campground called Indian Point Campground. We rallied our money and bought a campsite for the night. We were told we could "ride down the little trail and park onsite". This turned out to be a bit of a joke between we three. The "trail" was a small ravine filled with loose rocks, roots and 6-8" drops. No big deal on anything with a bit of ground clearance, but difficult on the Kawasaki cruiser that Alex was riding. The Bonneville handled it handily, but it seems that I snagged my saddle bag on a small tree or something because I noticed one of the straps that holds it to the frame was torn free. I couldn't do anything about this during the night, so I opted to deal with it in the morning.

What I was able to fix that night was Justin's tent pole. One of his buds has run it over with his dirtbike while "out for a rip". I wrapped it with a piece of beer can, some zip ties and some gorilla tape. To my knowledge, the repair is still holding up.

After it got dark, Alex and Justin took off to get some "pops" (beer). I have to be honest about something, and I still feel guilt about this. I had a sincere sense of apprehension about riding with Alex and Justin. You hear all this terrible stuff in the media, and although I would have denied it, it had a deeper affect on me than I thought. I honestly felt as though I was going to wake up to find my stuff gone. This was such a disservice to these two guys. They were both just free willed, open, friendly guys. I felt really shitty about doubting that We still talk on facebook, which I am grateful for. I guess this makes me the weaker person as they never exhibited any of these apprehensions, or never betrayed them if they did.



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Old 12-13-2014, 10:42 PM   #12
N-Id-Jim
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Thanks for putting out............... the RR.!

Another Lk Superior ride, cant get enough of that!

More please!
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Old 12-15-2014, 12:24 AM   #13
cb200t OP
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Day 4 - Duluth to Grand Marais

After a night of somewhat fitful sleep, I woke fairly early and starting rustling around in my tent trying to get packed up. I was a bit apprehensive about whether or not the saddle bags would work, and whether I could repair them in some manner. I looked at the broken pieces, fussed with them, tied them this way and that and ultimately accepted that without a sewing machine of industrial proportions, the strap and bag were not going to be reunited. This got me thinking, if I remembered correctly, Aerostich was located in Duluth. I wondered if they would be able to sew the bag back together. Just then a dog came bouncing through the open doors on my tent and it's owner came jogging up looking for it. Alex and Justin kept the jogger distracted with conversation as I shooed the dog out. We eventually got the bikes packed up and rather than trying to get back up the ravine, Alex showed us the access path he'd found long the river trail that ran along the lake. It was a pedestrian walkway, but it was not heavily trafficked and we wouldn't be on it for very long. We puttered along the crushed gravel path, up the small embankment and pack onto paved roads.

Once we reached Aerostich, which was only a few minutes down the road from where we had stayed, we went inside and I set about trying to find someone to talk to about fixing my bags. It became evident that it was going to take a little while longer than what Alex and Justin could afford to wait. We bid a brief farewell, and they were gone. I talked to a very understanding staffer there who informed me that they would not be able to repair my bags, but if I decided to buy a set of bags there, could mail them home for me free of charge. I really hadn't planned on spending that much money, but ultimately I got a nicer set of bags. I bought a set of Ortlieb Moto saddle bags, and an Aerostich tire inflater. Both were excellent pieces of kit, and they shipped my old bags home for me. [Just as an aside, when I got home, Wolfman repaired my other saddle bags free of charge as a warranty. They now reside on my CB200T.] As I sat out in the parking lot putting my new bags together, a couple of different people came over to talk about the Triumph. Nearly all of the other bikes in the lot were BMW, and through talking to their owners I would ascertain they were headed to the same rally Bill (stranded GS) was heading to. I have to say, I was a little intimidated by these guys. Some were on the 1200 ADV bikes, others on sport tourers, but they were all a whole lot more prestigious than my humble Triumph with its mismatched luggage and greenhorn rider. These bikes and their pilots made me feel small, and out of place. I'm sure there was no intent to do so, but I felt out of my depth none the less, like an imposter amongst seasoned travelers.



As I was playing with my new inflater, I recalled hitting a bird along the westward road of the UP. The stupid thing flew straight up, and attempting to cross my path, got caught by a wind gust that blew it right in front of my headlight, or so I thought. I never actually saw it deflect off the hard glass lens...I would now discover its fate. It had evidently hit the regulator/rectifier and had affixed itself to it. I felt bad for the little guy, but at least it was a quick death. I was glad it hadn't hit me, as I hear that's quite uncomfortable.





My destination for that night would be at a small municipal campground in Grand Marais. I was to meet a fellow ADVer there by the handle FotoTex. Along the way, I really wanted to ride the Gunflint Trail. The gunflint would be the first new bit of the trip that I had been exposed to. Up until that point, I had traveled everywhere else on previous vacations with my wife. However, I am getting ahead of myself. We still have the entire Superior Coast of Minnesota to get through! I passed Pierre the Explorer, and had to grab a photo. This larger than life creation is truly a spectacle. A true testament to gaudy road side attractions, it is not to be missed if it can be avoided. I really wanted a picture of the bike in front of him, but to do that would require riding out onto the garden of a hotel. I didn't think they would take kindly to that, so I settled for walking out and getting my trophy picture. As it turns out, and I'm sure you've noticed, I left the exposure compensation open, and my picture was blown out.



I stopped in Two Harbors at the little park near the ore loading dock to watch the lake freighter get loaded up. The noise is immense, and it is just so extraordinary and foreign to see something that large, and then to know that it is at the mercy of the water and the wind of the great lake. I chatted with another rider, on another Beemer who was headed to the rally. He had ridden across the top of the lake, and was on his way south now. I finished my lunch and set off north again.









Along the shore road, you will have no choice but to notice the stunning beauty that Minnesota offers up. The rocks, trees, and water all come together to paint a picture of the romanticized notion I imagine traveling should be. It doesn't disappoint. The road stretches until it is interrupted by this fascinating tunnel that was blasted through the cliff some time ago. If you pull over before the cliff, you'll find a bicycle path that goes along side the water cut along side of the cliff. This was the old auto route that has since been converted to a bike path. It's a really neat experience to walk along it if you take the opportunity.



Continuing along, you'll come across a tiny little park entrance to Palisade Head. On a clear day, the views are spectacular. You can see forever, or so it seems. I honestly just wanted to ride the windy road to get up there. Just for fun.









A little while later, I pull off again because I'm having a difficult time locating my camera quickly to take pictures while moving. The little pull off I find myself at has three guys on bike at it. They are on a sport bike and two cruisers. They are intrigued by the Triumph, and come over for a chat. One of them sees me fumbling with my camera and gives me a lanyard. Perfect, I'm set for the remainder of the trip as far as having easy access to the camera while riding. I take off and ride for a short while before finding a bridge that catches my eye. I can't remember the name of this park, but I snuck in to grab a couple of photos. I notice this guy strip down and jump in the bay for a swim. This is lake superior water, and although it is July, it was still very cold.



I walked along the beach that separated the lake from the bay, and asked a couple to take my picture in front of the big lake.



This spot was just so pretty, desolate, but pretty. I wanted to stay there for the rest of the day, but had made other commitments.











The temperature grew colder, and I found myself a bit uncomfortable. I should have stopped and put on more layers, but in the end I decided to carry on. It was during this long stretch that I remembered that the bike had heated grips. Now, I don't know how hot heated grips are supposed to get but on low, these were imperceptible. On high, I could at least feel them. They did make a huge difference. The right one worked a lot better than the left, so I would rest my left hand on the valve cover and use the right grip to heat that hand. Not the most elegant solution, but it worked. I will be replacing them in the future as they were a very nice luxury to have.

I eventually got to Grand Marais, and although I was supposed to meet up with FotoTex, I realized that if I did that, I would miss out on seeing the Gunflint. I decided that I had to see the Gunflint while I was up here. I pulled in to buy some gas, and not knowing what time it was asked a a girl who was headed back to her truck. I took note of the truck for some reason, a black Suburban, filled my tank, and continued on my way.

The Gunflint trail is right around 60 miles long, a round trip of about 120 miles. I took off and was puttering at a pretty good pace, 50-60mph. Then, I look at my mirrors and notice headlights, and sure enough a few moments later the back Suburban came into view. The truck came up on my tail, slowed, indicated and passed swiftly giving me plenty of room. Fine, no problem, but then they slowed down a bit. We were in that awkward speed entanglement where I was going fast enough that I was keeping up and they were obstructing my view, but we were going fast enough that I really didn't want to pass them back. Normally I would have slowed, or pulled over, but time was of the essence. I opted for the pass, and then it seems the game was on. This truck and I played leap frog for a few miles and were running at 60-70mph on these twisty roads. I was surprised at the agility of the Suburban. That thing was no slouch! Eventually, my nerves got the better of me and I pulled over and let the truck go by. I settled into a more comfortable speed and cruised on ahead determined to make the terminus of the road and return before dark.



I continued on, and eventually came across this dirt road with a river running along it. I turned up it to a have a little explore. I take another two-track up a hill and wouldn't you know it, the Suburban comes around a corner and starts heading down towards me. The truck pulls down beside me (I'm facing up hill on some slippery gravel) and all four windows descend. A whole truck full of blonds look at me, and I at them. The eldest are my age (late 20s), and the youngest had to be in her early teens. I had a chuckle inside my helmet, and it suddenly made sense why that truck was so spry. A young person with a sense of humor was driving it! In a chorus of giggles, they asked me where their destination was. I was not familiar with the name, but then it dawned on me that I had seen a sign for it along the road I took before I turned on here. I told them, they asked where I was from, I told them and they took off towards their lodge/camp/whatever. I chalk it up to a strange, but entertaining encounter!

Going further along the Gunflint, you'll notice the water. Just a beautiful place. You have to ride this road if you come up this way!



Eventually I reach the end, a campground, and turn around for home. The trip back is slower paced and very enjoyable. I watched the sun go down as I kept a watchful eye out for deer or any other woodland creature the Triumph might entice to come out for a peek.











I finally reach the campground and after riding around in circles for a while looking for FotoTex's camper, give up and start heading out to the road to find somewhere else to sleep. As I was heading up the driveway, a man walks out and we exchanged that look where you are certain that's the person you're supposed to be meeting. Sure enough, it was FotoTex! He showed me to the spot earth that was to be mine for the night and I set up my tent.



Tex took me over to his camper, gave me a beer and we ambled over to watch some live music being played by the family of a man who was in the area building log homes. They were pleasant to listen to, and it was fun to see the kids playing. It was evident they did this a lot because they didn't appear to have a whole lot of apprehension about it. Just the little guy that was a bit nervous.



After they finished, it was getting dark and Tex and I took our beers and conversation down to the lake. We talked for a while before I headed off to thaw in the hot showers they had available. I had a shave and wallowed in the hot water before settling down for a much needed sleep.
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Old 12-15-2014, 12:31 AM   #14
Klay
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Great riding.
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Old 12-15-2014, 06:14 AM   #15
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Great riding.
Thanks, it's nice to reminisce about it.
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