Rhinelander, Wisconsin to Iron River, Michigan. Thursday, May 27, 2021
Ten days. Never thought I’d be spending so long in the Badger State, but between quagmires, breakdowns, head games, and deluges, here I still was. Time to blow.
Still 52 miles to the border, and a cold, rainy headwind predicted, but with caffeine, determination, and good equipment, doable. It’s not that Wisconsin didn’t have one more curveball up her sleeve. A road construction project held me up an hour. But at 5PM, I broke free into Yooperland.
This is the Upper Peninsula, or the U.P. of Michigan, quite distinct from the lower “mitten” part, and the natives are proud of the nickname meant to be a put-down.
Same way Notre Dame is proud to be the Fighting Irish, Newfoundlanders embrace Newfies, and the colonials were OK with being Yankee Doodle Dandies. I found those last 10 miles to be beautiful, with well-kept farms and smooth roads. I was also delighted to see a little bit of home, US highway 2.
I find the US highway system much more compelling than the soul-less interstates. Route 66, dripping with Americana, starts right at the Buckingham Fountain in Chicago, and it was tempting just to hop on and follow Steinbeck’s Mother Road all the way to the Santa Monica pier. Route 1 wends its legendary way from Fort Kent, Maine to Key West. On this trip, I have frequently crossed Route 6, which starts in Provincetown and takes you to Bishop CA, via the Loveland Pass in CO; and Route 20, America’s longest, from Boston to Newport OR.
But I hadn’t seen Route 2 until today. I have cycled most of it as it cuts through New England, it comes very close to my front door, where we call it Williston Road. But the Great Lakes take a huge bite out of it, there is a hiatus until it restarts on the Upper Peninsula and continues all the way to Washington State. The part through eastern Montana, paralleling the Great Northern rail line, is called the High Line. I love that. Anyway, I texted Jane to come join me for dinner, I was just down Williston Road.
Hey, it’s almost Memorial Day, why is it so freezing out? It went down to 29° overnight. The motel clerk said this is not unusual. The Upper Peninsula is actually north of the Vermont-Canadian border, and far from the moderating oceans, instead surrounded by the frigid Great Lakes. People are still skiing here, they tell me. Great, and I’m going to try to do the highpoint on Saturday. I forgot my snowshoes.
Reminds me of a joke my dad used to tell about the Kiki bird. The Kiki bird lives in the Arctic, and got its name because it’s often seen shivering and saying “ki-ki-ki-Christ, it’s cold!”
Distance 62 miles, 1,861 total. Time 8 1/2 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1,703 feet
The Ends of the Earth 
I remember the KiKi bird well! I believe Dad invented that due to my friend Kiki LaGeux (sp?) who was just beautiful inside and out and came to dinner and Dad created one of his tales of our “royal family” in Neuschwanstein, where we were visited by a Kiki bird.
I love following your progress Scott. The ups and downs and exhilarations and disappointments/ hardships remind us all that it’s like our lives, but in quicker succession, or to quote John Mellencamp, “Ain’t That America?”
So grateful that you’ve been blessed with so many trail angels along your way!
Love,
Anne
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