Two Harbors to Duluth, Minnesota. Saturday, June 5, 2021
Wow. 50 days. I’ve been away so long, and yet the trip has hardly begun.
This was a joyous and bittersweet day. Joyous because of the wonderful time shown me by Harrison and Mari Olk, one of the couples I had met on the boat from Isle Royale, who offered to put me up tonight and take me to a bluegrass concert where Harrison was playing the banjo. It was a perfect evening, both weather-wise and in the venue, a tent in Superior, Wisconsin where over a hundred people gathered for their first concert in months, and celebrated with good music, beer, dancing, and conversation. I met Mari’s parents, a civil engineer and a speech therapist, and a number of their friends, everyone was having such a good time. Their enthusiasm washed over me like a warm wave. Such a night, as Dr. John would say.
On the way back to their house, Harrison and Mari treated me to a tour of Duluth with many of the historic landmarks, their colleges and hospitals, and a trip to the sandbar at the end of Lake Superior, with a great view of the city.
Bittersweet because this was my last day on Lake Superior, after nine days in the presence of this singular body of water. I only had 24 miles to go today, but was dragging my feet. As I stopped by a beach, I noticed for the first time that I could see the shore on the opposite side, indicating that the lake was finally tapering down to a point, that it was about to end.
I made multiple stops on this short trip, one spot had homemade ice cream that could rival Ben & Jerry’s, and just 5 miles later I had to stop for a Coke. Who could resist a roadside stand in an Airstream trailer?
That “61” emblem reminded me that this great North Shore highway, Minnesota 61, was about to become the famous US 61, immortalized by Bob Dylan and known as the “Blues Highway,” heading all the way down to New Orleans. Duluth is Bob Dylan’s birthplace.
To top it off, I had two great phone calls. My son Jason, who loves music and has hundreds of vinyl albums, called me right during the concert, so I felt he was a part of the celebration. He is thinking about taking a “walkabout” of his own, which I strongly encouraged. So good to hear from him, despite making me homesick.
The second was from my best buddies Brian, Eric, Frank, and Matt, who were on their own road trip. For decades, Brian has organized a semiannual junket of short hikes and roadside attractions for us he calls PHSIDARUTT, for Pre Hiking Season Improvisational Drive Around, Run Up, and Talk Trash. We all live in different corners of the country, but this reunion is sacrosanct, making sure we get together at least twice a year. I was sorry to be missing it for the first time ever, but was following along vicariously, tracking them on the Find My app. Brian has made many suggestions for my trip, which was inspired by his; if I substitute a B (bike) for the D (drive) I could call it PHSIBARUTT. Anyway, it was good to talk trash with those guys.
So 50 days. Averaging 45 miles per day, despite the down days. Still feeling great, but as always, uncertain about what the future holds. I don’t even know exactly where I’m going tomorrow. So weird for me, after a life of being so regimentally organized, to have things so open-ended like this. Exhilarating, but frightening. Homesick to the extreme, but also having the time of my life. Wow.
Distance 24 miles, 2,253 total. Time 4 hours with stops. Elevation gain 680 feet.
©️ 2021 Scott Luria
The Ends of the Earth 