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Courtesy of Michigan Department of Transportation (2007
Michigan State Map) After dealing with a rain through most of the U.P. it finally showed signs of letting up as I rode north out of Gladstone. Like some old horse smelling the barn, it seemed like my bike had gotten wind of a dry garage and had picked up the pace. Of course my thought of a warm bed and a cold beer may have had something to do with it. The air had a sweet smell as it swirled up under my face shield. It seemed like all of a sudden the ride had some new life to it. I turned off Hwy 41 in Trenary on Hwy 67 and slowed down as I rode through town. Trenary is a small community with a couple bars and a place to eat. It seems like every little town in the U.P. has some sort of festival. For Trenary, it's an "Outhouse Race" held the last week of February every year. They build outhouses out of cardboard or wood, put them on skis and race them through town. Not a race that’s going to draw many bikers, but might be worth stopping by with a snowmobile some day. When I turned on east on Hwy 94 I forced myself to slow down. The rain was gone now, but too many deer to be rolling a long at the speed I was going. Just about then, the sun poked out from behind a cloud and I could feel things warm up a bit. As I cruised by the lake it was like a mirror. As I turned on the road that would down to my sisters, I was feeling tired. When I pulled into her driveway, the garage door opened and my sister waved me in. Halleluiah, I said to myself as I got off the bike. Everything on my body was aching now but the soles of my feet. After a big hug, my sister slapped a cold beer into my hand and sat me down in front of the fire place. As I settled down into one very comfortable chair, the thought of getting back on my bike again tomorrow never entered my mind. I had just spent seven hours and over three hundred miles getting here. After a good few hours of catching up, I lumbered off to bed. Morning came early as it always seems to do for me these days. I could hear the birds chattering away outside my window as the thought of the next leg of my trip to Manistique crept into my head. Before leaving I spent some time standing around my bike talking to my brother-in-law. Having seen my bike on his last visit down, he caught the bug again and bought a bike. As he polished up my windshield, we agreed we would make some time to ride together next year. Saying my thanks, I pulled out of their driveway and headed east to Munising. As I rode along Lake Superior, it was hard to keep my eyes on the road. The lake was spectacular looking this morning. Now and then, the sun would poke out and light up the bay and Grand Island. Something I never get tired of seeing. Not much going on in town on this Saturday as I cruised down main street Munising. Like many Upper Michigan towns, Munising probably sees more tourists in the winter now with snowmobiling than summer. It wasn't long and I was out of town and found myself in road construction. For next two miles I found myself riding on some nasty wet slippery clay. Feeling the front wheel slip back and forth, I had this picture in my head of me laying the bike down. Of course that had me checking my mirrors to see if the car behind realized how bad this stuff was for a bike to ride in. Fortunately I was able to keep upright and soon made it to some good hard pavement. With that I accelerated though the gears glad to be moving along again. As I approached the town of Shingleton, I found myself back in the misting rain again. It didn't matter now. I was rested, upbeat and ready to ride. If anything, I found the rain refreshing. Page 3 of 5
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