L’Anse to Copper Harbor, Michigan. Sunday, May 30, 2021
For those of you not sure what I mean by “hypotenusing“, I suggest you check back to the posts “It’s not easy being me“ on April 28, and “From Albany to Buffalo“ on May 1.
My next highpoint was Eagle Mountain in Minnesota, and as you look at the map, you can see my quandary.
If I hopscotched across Lake Superior, using ferries, I could save almost 200 miles, a lot of backtracking, and get to see the nation’s least-visited national park, Isle Royale. The choice was obvious.
Now right away I know what you’ll say. “Aha, Mr. Self-righteous, I thought this trip was supposed to be fossil fuel free. What do you think those ferries are burning, granola?” Yeah, but they’re running whether I’m on them or not. And despite me and the bike still being overweight, I don’t think I’m adding much to their fossil fuel consumption.
On the other hand, you could make the same claim about airplanes. No question, Greta Thunberg wouldn’t approve, unless I could charter a solar-powered yacht at short notice.
On the third day of this trip, in Troy, my buddy Frank did me a solid I’m only now coming to appreciate. My hotel was just across the parking lot from Dinosaur Barbecue, but he insisted on driving me. No, I protested, I’ll break my streak. Get in the car, he said. It’s like when Cal Ripken just decided not to show up one day, and liberate himself from the tyranny of his consecutive game streak. I’m free. I can do what I want. Thanks, Frank.
Only one other problem. The second ferry only runs twice a week in the preseason. If I was going to make this work, I would have to crank out 82 miles over the hilly Keweenaw Peninsula, my longest day yet, while still poofed from mighty Mt. Arvon.
Well, at least there was a tailwind. US 41 went the whole way, and the part I had already done had a smooth wide shoulder. Would it hold all the way to Copper Harbor? The first 33 miles were flat and easy, and before I knew it I was in Houghton, the largest town on the Keweenaw, and the birthplace of American ice hockey, or so the sign says. Also the birthplace of Gut Frisbee, a precursor to Ultimate Frisbee. My recent motel proprietor, Scott, was there for a game, and he spotted me and called me over to talk and hear the origin stories.
Houghton had the Michigan Technological University, which could have rightly been called MIT.
It also had this curious sign. I guess in Houghton, like Casablanca, life is cheap.
Finally, there was Finlandia University. I put these pictures in for Krista Marjola, our foreign exchange student who lived with us for a year in 2012.
Climbing the long hill out of Houghton, my odometer rolled over to 2000. Not bad for a month and a half. Only 13,000 more to go.
Next was a curious yardstick, at the location of the highest snowfall recorded in America.
This was Sunday, and I passed the Rugged Cross Church just as the service was letting out. When they were out of earshot, godless heathen that I am, I belted out my favorite song, Gethsemene, from the first album I ever bought, Jesus Christ Superstar. https://youtu.be/Azawb907Bjg Ian Gillan I ain’t. As the cars sped by, I could see them rolling up their windows.
Presently I was punished for my sacrilege. The US 41 shoulder, which had held for 55 miles, suddenly gave out to gravel. Ugh, still 27 miles to go. I cried out, “41, O 41, why hast thou forsaken me?” Could I make it? I could feel the caffeine from my last snack ebbing away, would I have to resort to the nuclear option? I keep a can of this with me for just in case, but I don’t want to use it, I won’t sleep well if I do.
The awful shoulder was only for a few miles, I was able to hold off on the nuke, and the scenery got lovely as I finally descended into Copper Harbor at 7:30. I’d heard almost no food would be available on Isle Royale, so I stocked up on groceries here.
Distance 82 miles, 2,058 total. Time 10 hours with stops. Elevation gain 2,539 feet
The Ends of the Earth 