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The U.P.
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Motorcycles Welcome Just
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Courtesy of Michigan Department of Transportation (2007 Michigan State Map)
Having returned to motorcycling after more then 35 years, I knew I didn't have enough riding experience to make the ride that first year back on a bike, but I was ready now. It was a crisp sunny morning as I rode through the corn fields to work. There is just something so invigorating about the fresh morning air blowing against your face. You never get that feeling sitting in a car. This morning there was a mist rising up out of the corn stalks creating an almost spooky look. Ever since I started riding my bike to work its been a joy to get up in the morning and come home at night. I can' think of a better way to start a day. Of course knowing that by lunch I would be headed north to Michigan's Upper Peninsula made this morning's ride even more special. It was already late August and it had taken the entire summer to find the time to make the ride. Now all I needed was a break in the weather. This summer had been nothing but weekends of rain and family commitments. Earlier in the week, I had thought of putting a note on the bulletin board to see if anyone wanted to make the ride with me, but changed my mind when I realized I needed the flexibility of leaving on a moments notice. I had experimented with packing my bike trying to figure out what would fit. One saddle bag was for the tent and air mattress, while the other would hold some clothes and my chaps. On the back seat I had strapped down my sleeping bag and used a pack bag from my old hiking backpack to store my rain suit. To help secure everything I had purchased some straps and clips. In the end, I was impressed at how well it all seemed to fit on the bike. No room for cooking gear though, so I would be eating out on this ride. My only regret later was that I didn't pack my camera. I don't think many businesses realize how much money is spent by bikers on their road trips. If they did, I'm sure we'd see a few more "motorcycles welcome signs" out front. The morning dragged as I sat at my desk looking out my office window at my bike. It seemed to call to me like some impatient horse waiting to be ridden. It was all I could do to put in one more minute of work. By noon, I couldn't take it any longer, rain or no rain I was going. I didn't have any other plan other than ride north. Once in Michigan's Upper Peninsula I would decide where to go from there. I don't much like expressways. They tend to be long and boring rides which wear me down mentally and physically, but with only a weekend to ride I needed to put some quick miles under me so I hooked up with Hwy 51 and road north towards Wausau. There I exited on Hwy 29 towards Green Bay. Before reaching Green Bay I exited and took some side roads into Oconto, Wisconsin I was relieved when I finally wound my way into Oconto, although I was slightly bummed that the sun had now ducked behind the clouds. It had been a warn sunny ride so far and now I was seeing a fog coming in off Lake Michigan. As I drew closer to the U.P. I could feel the excitement building. It's something I always feel when I'm about to enter Upper Michigan. Seems strange considering I haven’t lived in the U.P. for almost 20 years. I guess the U.P. will always be home to this old Yooper.
As I cruised over the bridge into Menominee, I gazed out over the river which seemed to disappear into the fog. I've never spent much time in Menominee, but more than any other town, it's been my doorway to the rest of the peninsula. After passing through town, I made my turn on Highway M-35. As a highway, M-35 is a two lane road that follows the Lake Michigan lakeshore from Menominee to Escanaba, Michigan. It's a scenic stretch that offers plenty of great places to pull over and enjoy some beach time. On most summer days, the road is usually packed with RVs backing up traffic, but today I found myself riding alone. About twenty minutes north of Menominee, I decided to pull into J.W. Wells State Park. In all my time in the U.P., I've never camped in this park, but like all Upper Michigan State Parks, it's a port in a storm. The fog had now become a wet mist and was starting to chill me so I needed to stop, zip up my jacket and put on some gloves.
I thought for a second about camping, but with so much light left in the day I decided to continue on to Gladstone. Having lived in Gladstone for ten years, I knew there was a campground near the lake that would likely have room for one more old biker. I also had some friends in Gladstone that might be willing to offer a former neighbor a place to crash for the night. Page 1 of 5
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