The day began at the cottage inauspiciously, in darkness and a steady cold rain. We loaded Rudy & Big Red with last minute items, settled Sadie in the back folded down seat and were about to start when probing headlights came down our forest driveway. The Lutomski's politely saying we need to be on our way to catch the Chicheemann for the crossing to Manitoulin Island. We couldn't afford to miss the morning boat as the day before's evening crossing was canceled due to gale force winds and 8 foot waves.
We arrive in plenty of time, loading began at 8:30 AM and we set sail at 8:50. We left Big Red & Rudy, moving topsides to the lounge.
Below, looked after by Sadie who rode the crossing on the car ferry deck. In the lee of the Big Tub, the chain of islands of Russell and eventually Cove Island, the winds from the West were mitigated and the seas were trace. Whatever spray from the bow was lost to the waterline. Not so as we rounded the Cove Island Lighthouse. We were greeted by a confused sea, going every which way as the day before the wind was from the South, then swung Southwest, then West and finally, we took the wind on the chin, Northwest.
Flying scud lashed the upped decks as we plowed into the seas, smashing into waves with a thud, a hammering. Topsides we sat in the lounge drinking coffee and tea. I had a breakfast muffin. Some 2 1/4 hours later we sighted South Bay Mouth. Down into the bowels of the ship we scurried, awaiting instructions to start our engines, and low and behold, the bow peak opened, engines roared, and we off-loaded, headed to Little Current to cross the single lane swing bridge across the North Channel.
Within a mile of Little Current we left the Niagra Escarpment limestone for the granites of the Canadian Shield mineral baring hard rock that was to characterize the geology through to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan as well. Fall colors, vivid, rich, and punctuated by intense greens of firs were right and left and every which way we looked. Up Highway 6 to Espanola we drove where we would stop, have lunch with the Lutomski's, part ways, we West on Route 17, the Trans Canadian Highway, and the Lutomski's East and then South on Route 11 to Parry Sound.
Gorgeous colors metamorphosed with each tree species. Tamaracs were yellow. Stands upon stands of yellows mixed with greens then oranges, reds and a shimmering radiance in the sun light. We continued West, stopping along the way to take pictures, let Sadie out and run around. Towards Sault Ste. Marie Canada we encountered a four lane divided highway with no other cars than ourselves. It seems that the reigning Member Of Parliament found money for this roadway, starting 20 miles in the wilderness and emptying into the bustling megapolis of 75,000. At the end of the freeway, we turn right at the light on our way to Thunder Bay. Stopping at a KOA campground on their second to last night of the season, we set up Rudy and retire somewhat early although we did have time to use the Campground's internet. It was here we had 6 inchs of snow by late morning. Route 17 from Sault Ste. Marie to WaWa was closed due to snow.
Our course now diverted from the lee shore of Lake Superior at our decision time in Sault Set. Marie Canada, we go South. Our alternative route was across the International Bridge onto I 75 for 8 miles then Westward M 28 and diverging alternative scenic routes. At Strongs we turn right, into Hiawatha National Forest , first to Echerman, then Paradise, West to Taquamenon Falls, first Lower, then Upper. Each spot we disembarked, hitched up Sadie's halter, and headed along foot warn pathways to view, and eventually descend to the brink of the swift waters.
We have traveled far.
And yet, our day's journey had not ended, but continued further West along the South Shores of Lake Superior to a campground: Muskellunge Lake: 5 campers, 200 sites. Within the Cabin A: Rudy, we sit. Blustery winds fetch across Gitche Gumee miles of open water. Pelting popcorn snow sting our camper's roof top. Inside the sounds of dancing plastic balls upon an aluminum roof, for most of the night. We are toasty warm we are, propane heater works just fine. The morning brings some sunshine piercing rapid paced low dark clouds. There is snow on the ground. I let Sadie out and closely follow, she is off her leash and feeling her oats; dancing, prancing and charging with nose down scattering vividly colored fallen maple leaves. Alas, there is a dog walker with well-healed and leashed German Shepherds. Time to bound up this bundle of energy and attach yet again her halter and leash.
The road less traveled from Muskellunge Lake to Munising along the Southern Shores of Lake Superior, is less well traveled for a reason: a route plowed through sandy bluffs, rutted, potholes, ponds whose depths we plumbed. Big Red of course took matters in hand and jostled and jogged this "seasonal road, not maintained". Many Muddy Miles later, we made the outskirts of the port town of Munising, its National Falls an ink spot on the local map; we descended, hitched Sadie, walked and returned for more miles until: Munising Municipal Park and Campground where we camped for the night. Sunset is a blaze of rippled horizontal fire capped by foreboding clouds, stretching from shore to horizon. We are looking into the mouth of a blast furnace. At night we hear the winds slowly quiet and then cease. At morning's light, Kathy had barely aroused and so the morning drifted to noon before we headed out; the weather fogy and intermittent rain; certainly a travel day, not one to get out on a walk about.
We open Foggy's Tavern in Christmas Michigan for lunch, the red OPEN sign not yet lit. Whitefish basket on special. Indeed, a scrumptious meal, plate loaded with lightly fried whitefish, coleslaw, nothing else but hot coffee. When we query where I can get my tires pumped up, our host, server, owner, bar tender wheels out a tank of compressed air and we fill Rudy's and Big Red's tires to their limits. We are good to go, and so we do.
Forty miles of State Forest, colorful trees with their reds and oranges highlighted by the deep greens of firs and bright yellows of fall Tamarac, provide the walls to our canyons as we now cruise to a city, Marquette, named for a deceased priest from the 17th century. Our remembrances, both Kathy and myself, is of a family with a child with Cystic Fibrosis, who drove 9 hours down to our CF Clinic in Lansing; four, and sometime more per year. We remember her, her mother and father: bittersweet memories.
Due West to L'Anse at the bottom of Keweenaw Bay, into aboriginal lands, casinos, cheap cigarettes, less expensive gas, and Tribal Police prowling the roadways. North to Houghton, home of Michigan Technological University a scenic campus on a bluff overlooking a waterway. Across the drawbridge, we enter the town of Hancock, up the hill and a few more miles North, Calumet (copper country) and a stop at the visitor's center. Where to stay for the night? Copper Harbor at the very tip is now closed. We head Southwest to McLain State Park. From the roadway high reaches I can see an empty iron ore carrier heading to Duluth Minn. At the lakeshore, we head Big Red's nose to the winds and listen to the pounding waves upon the shores. We are on the windward shore of the Keweenaw Peninsula: wind and sleet and raw cold off the Lake are outside. Inside? we are snug as a bug in a rug.
Sadie is lying, feet out, and lightly snoring. Kathy is attaching games on her iPad. We are preparing to walk through the darkness to the distant washroom, brush our teeth, return and retire.
Our usual late morning arousal, make coffee and when that is done, Sadie and I walk around the campground while Kathy showers. We meet back at Rudy, tidy up, stop at the pump out station and head for the HUT INN for its Sunday Brunch.
Well fortified, off to Copper Harbor to where the sidewalk/road ends. Back down the Peninsula via the scenic route, Egg Harbor, Eagle River, and a lighthouse tour, memorabilia of a desolate existence.
Tonight we camp at Goegebic Lake State Park. Tomorrow, Monday October 15, the water will be turned off for the season. For us Tomorrow, Madison Wisconcin, Andre's.
