7/15/17 The Lake Effect
Gorging on miles of road today, we were white line gluttons. But first, we took a moment to enjoy a new encounter.
Word about the scarcity of beds up the highway found us frantically searching the internet for lodging along the sparsely populated shores of Lake Superior. Saturday night and Canadian Sesquicentennial celebrations filled most of the small motels along the way and the only option we found was in Schreiber, 400 miles away! We had tracks to make. But first we had to make friends.
Another bike parked in our motel with Jersey plates piqued our interest. Introducing ourselves to the riders, Connie and Hank from Delran, a scant half hour away from our home town, we immediately hit it off. On their return from a cross country trip that began in May, we realized we were kindred spirits, riding two up and solo as far as our desires can take us. Packed and ready to take off in opposite directions, we delayed our departures and exchanged adventures, standing by our bikes. Finally we split, with promises of some East Coast rides together.
Two moose, lolling in a lake, eyed our departure from afar. Our first blast was to Sault Ste. Marie, where the world's busiest locks connect Huron with Superior. Floats readying for a 150th Canadian Anniversary parade added to the many celebrations we have seen in small towns along our way.
From here to Thunder Bay, a stunning ride following the contour of Superior covers 430 miles of pristine, mostly uninhabited lakefront. Leaning into the curves that define this body of water, we sucked in the beauty and remoteness of this greatest of the lakes. Used to vacationers filling every spot on lakes back home, crowding them with all types of personal watercraft, it is mind boggling to skim the edge of Superior for hundreds of miles with little human intervention, except for other travelers on 17. A village pops up every now and then boasting a gas station, a few motels and a trading post. And also a bear or two as we testified to today.
Waterfalls provided the background for our picnic as the sound of the rushing water readied us for the rest of our ride. Flying into the face of a build-up of ominous clouds, the temperature fluctuated from 80 to 60. With an end game over 100 miles away, we flirted with rain drops, sweated then shivered, dragged our feet up hills behind loaded trucks in no passing zones and flew over the crests of hills into divine spectacles of sky, mountain and lake. With our radio goading us onward with upbeat tunes and our consistent and insistent positive moods, we rode through, and made it to Schreiber dry and happy to have lived such an amazing day.
Today we covered miles. Miles of pristine forest and lakes. Miles of leaning and soaring along open roads. Miles of stories to tell. And we also covered the miles we have traveled, back to New Jersey, by connecting with fellow flatlanders, who, like us, are always seeking a better road.
Word about the scarcity of beds up the highway found us frantically searching the internet for lodging along the sparsely populated shores of Lake Superior. Saturday night and Canadian Sesquicentennial celebrations filled most of the small motels along the way and the only option we found was in Schreiber, 400 miles away! We had tracks to make. But first we had to make friends.
Another bike parked in our motel with Jersey plates piqued our interest. Introducing ourselves to the riders, Connie and Hank from Delran, a scant half hour away from our home town, we immediately hit it off. On their return from a cross country trip that began in May, we realized we were kindred spirits, riding two up and solo as far as our desires can take us. Packed and ready to take off in opposite directions, we delayed our departures and exchanged adventures, standing by our bikes. Finally we split, with promises of some East Coast rides together.
Two moose, lolling in a lake, eyed our departure from afar. Our first blast was to Sault Ste. Marie, where the world's busiest locks connect Huron with Superior. Floats readying for a 150th Canadian Anniversary parade added to the many celebrations we have seen in small towns along our way.
From here to Thunder Bay, a stunning ride following the contour of Superior covers 430 miles of pristine, mostly uninhabited lakefront. Leaning into the curves that define this body of water, we sucked in the beauty and remoteness of this greatest of the lakes. Used to vacationers filling every spot on lakes back home, crowding them with all types of personal watercraft, it is mind boggling to skim the edge of Superior for hundreds of miles with little human intervention, except for other travelers on 17. A village pops up every now and then boasting a gas station, a few motels and a trading post. And also a bear or two as we testified to today.
Waterfalls provided the background for our picnic as the sound of the rushing water readied us for the rest of our ride. Flying into the face of a build-up of ominous clouds, the temperature fluctuated from 80 to 60. With an end game over 100 miles away, we flirted with rain drops, sweated then shivered, dragged our feet up hills behind loaded trucks in no passing zones and flew over the crests of hills into divine spectacles of sky, mountain and lake. With our radio goading us onward with upbeat tunes and our consistent and insistent positive moods, we rode through, and made it to Schreiber dry and happy to have lived such an amazing day.
Today we covered miles. Miles of pristine forest and lakes. Miles of leaning and soaring along open roads. Miles of stories to tell. And we also covered the miles we have traveled, back to New Jersey, by connecting with fellow flatlanders, who, like us, are always seeking a better road.
Distant moose- the best kind
Canada celebrates 150 years of Confederation
Check the wheels!
Winding along Superior
The greatest of lakes
Open road
Then there was a bear!
Lunch music
Lunch company
White River - birth place of Winnie the Pooh
Dodging storms on our race to Schreiber
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