Motorcycle camping from MN to the Keweenaw Peninsula

This is an account of a 3 day trip from Minnesota to the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula in upper Michigan, solo camping, riding a GS1200 motorcycle on September 30-October 2, 2011.

My trip this last weekend was a last minute plan, but was delayed by one day because of serious winds.  50+ mph gusts on a motorcycle is very demanding and dangerous. So I departed on Friday, later than I had planned, but it was the time it was meant to happen.

Arriving in Duluth to stop at Aerostitch to purchase some gloves, tire patch kit, and attempt to get a Shoei pin shield insert to eliminate the morning and evening fog on my shield, however they didn't carry it.  I also got a converter plug so I could charge my phone, but it was back ordered. Oh well, I will just keep the phone turned off. I met another rider parked at the curb, from New York, Erik the Adventure GS'er, riding a 6 six week solo trip out to the west coast and back, emolbach.blogspot.com. We had a really nice visit, a great way for my weekend to begin 2.5 hours into my trip. We seemed to share a common bond, both feeling the same, excited for adventure and seeing new things.  After we wished each other safe travels, he was off after having to remove his outerwear to locate his motorcycle key.  It was a really a nice and encouraging visit.

From Duluth I was hoping to get as far as Michigan, but began to realize it was too far to ride at night, so I decided to find a campsite near the Bayfield area. Dark as pitch when I finally rolled into town, anxious to find a campsite, I stopped at a filling station and asked a guy filling up if he knew of any campgrounds close by.  He mentioned the reservation south a ways, where I could camp for free, and another campground just back south. I gassed up the GS and decided to backtrack just a small length and find the campground just south of town. I found it quickly, closer than I thought, maybe 2.5 miles from the station. They had the fill out the card, put the money into the envelope, and slip it into the steel box registration for the particular campsite I chose, and length of stay, 20 bones a night, not too bad. It turned out to be a wonderful campground, called Dalrymple campground. I had a very secluded site more back up in the woods, Lake Superior being downhill, and I could hear the water rolling in. I also heard lots of wildlife, a big owl crashed onto a branch and talked to me awhile, and other sounds, possibly deer, racoon's or perhaps even bear, as they have many of them. I made a perfect fire because there was a wood pile 45 yards from my camp and it was 43 degrees. There is nothing quite as wonderful as having a great campfire in a wonderful new place, tucked away from civilization, secluded in the woods, it filled me with a wonder I haven't felt in a long time. I boiled water with my Jet Boil, brought along a chicken and noodles pouch, and in fifteen minutes I was eating.  It was delicious and very satisfying. I had traveled 227 miles today.

I woke to a beautiful day, enjoyed the moment and began to load up and disassemble my tent. Along with a nice autumn Saturday morning also brought in lots of big pull campers so I was glad to be moving out and heading down the road. My intentions today were to get up to Michigan, final destination to be Copper Harbor and Fort Wilkins, however where I was going to camp Saturday night was still not 100% certain. I clicked my boots and away I went. Riding along Lake Superior is really nice, it is such an amazing body of water, so scenic, so massive, it sounds and feels different than regular lakes and is a constant source of a coolness. The land in this area seems somewhat topically rolling with some rock areas exposed, cliffs along the lake, pavement is good, plenty of nice curves, crispness in the air. I made a fuel stop and bought some cheap cigarillos, was taking a break curbside when Mike came into the story. He was a truck driver, seemed to know the area very well and wanted to chat. I exclaimed where I was heading, and he gave me some advice on campgrounds, road choices, the comfort of an '85 Suzuki 1200 for his 350 lb frame, explaining the dangers of deer and bear while riding, all the while, puffing on a cigarette. He told me if it wasn't so late in the day, he would come along, as he has in-laws in White Pine, and  would love to get out again on his bike. "Thanks for the advice Mike!" I said as I started my GS, "I appreciate it." and off I went. I was happy again to come across another person whom I had good interaction with, and people love to talk to guys on motorcycles, they represent usually something every man admires, traveling the country on a motorcycle, experiencing the life most men would really enjoy, but often never do it, like something in the movies, something out of the Old West.  I even have my five-shooter along, packed away of course.

As I was riding along, I  focused on the rush I was getting from everything, the excitement of it all, looking at the landscape, smelling the air and feeling it against me, hearing the sounds and vibrations of my bike, the handling on the pavement, knowing this was the best I had felt in a long time. The pleasure center of my brain was activated and emitting the feel good chemicals, causing me to be in a state of euphoric bliss, and that is a wonderful thing to experience and gain energy from. The feeling you got as a youngster experiencing the feeling of a first love. I knew I was in love again.  Life is good.

I had not eaten anything much, and it was nearing later afternoon, so desiring a non-chain restaurant in a little town, was found with Antonio's American and Italian home style food, situated all by itself.  I was hungry, I was happy, looking forward to a good meal. The server said she wished she could be out enjoy the day, it was so nice outside. I agreed with her that it was very nice outside.  I asked her what she liked on the menu, she said her favorite was the french dip, I inquired on the hot beef sandwich, she said it was equally delicious, as it was the same roast.  I wanted hearty and she agreed that it was likely more hearty, so I was sold. I got an added bonus of a cup of bean soup that was an apparent mix up free of charge, and I gladly accepted. The sandwich was very delicious, good roast beef, potatoes, and gravy, quite substantial. The price seemed a bit high, at just under 10 clams, however it was within spending for what I received, especially with the soup. I told her where I was thinking about going, she explained to me Twin Lakes State Park was right off the highway, and not exactly what she thinks of when camping. I thought I don't really want that either, so I decided that most likely this was off my list. I had brought along a note card with two different options for campgrounds that I had penned from the DNR websites, the other one was McLain State Park, up a little further, so I knew I had options, also every township or village seems to have some camping options, so I knew everything was going to be all right.

As I was finishing up eating the Antonio's, I had been watching some Harley riders across the street at the gas station fill up, move their bikes, and just hang around the station. One of the guys lost his cap as he moved his bike and didn't realize it, and parked over by the other bike. That morning I had overlooked attaching my cap to my bike, and it was lost after retracing my short path back to the campground to where I noticed it was missing, not to be seen again. So I sat there thinking I would walk over after eating and grab it, since he would probably wasn't going to find it.  I paid and was walking out of the restaurant, asked the server if I could fill up my water bottle, she obliged, so I went out to get it from my bike and yelled across the street, "You dropped your hat over by the curb!" as I was pointing with my other hand to where it lay by the curb. "Hey, Thanks!" he shouted back. I felt glad that he got it back. Karma.

Taking the scenic route in the direction I was headed, also adding on additional time, I don't care about that, I was on an exciting trip to the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula in Upper Michigan. I came upon Twin Lakes State Park, and yes, it was right off the road, more of a wayside rest stop with some water fill ups for rv's, not what I wanted or where I felt comfortable staying in a tent. So I decided to keep on going, hoping to be able to find McLain State Park even further up the peninsula. It was near hear that I saw a gorgeous photo opportunity with a lake and deep fall colors just waiting for me to capture. I turned around and came back around, pulled off the road, put on my flashers, and got myself and my camera and began walking along the shoulder of the road, seeing the different views, finding some good ones I started taking photo's as I went along about 45 yards or so, and the one I really turned out best I put at the top of this article.

Back in the saddle again, trying to make time before darkness came. I was making tracks to McLain State Park, stopping for fuel in Hancock, Michigan, following mainly instincts on where to go as I went through this long town, I asked some Harley riders if they knew where the park was, and no they did not. As I turned to walk back to my bike, I saw a sign up a ways, pointing me to McLain, I was so happy I went back the guy and told him where the sign was, as if he cared since he wasn't even going that way, but I felt glad to know and I must have wanted to share my new found knowledge with someone, and he was all I had. Si filled up with 93 octane, the good stuff.  Off I went, feeling happy to know my way, I had a goal and a destination. I found the park and rolled up to the entrance house, and found out from my friendly ranger boy Ethan that I was going to freed up of the 34 bucks to stay here, that seemed very expensive, considering I had seen motels for $40 along the way. This park is nice, they have showers and toilets and sinks, right along the shores of Lake Superior, and I was happy to be here.  I was assigned campsite 19, I was 13 the night before.  I rode in and decided upon the way I wanted my bike to be, and parked, checked the ground to see where I should set up my home for the night, began unloading and unpacking what I needed.  The only activity I noticed was what I gathered to be some older couples sitting around a bonfire by their RV's having a nice time.  Once I got out of my outfit and got everything how I wanted, I decided to light up a cigar and go and visit with my neighbors.  I walked over and visited with them for about 20 minutes, talked about all things going on, out of the six of them, two of the couples were from Ohio, the others were from Marquette, Mich.  They were Rv'ing until Wednesday.  They gave me some advice on where to travel on my next day, one was the Brockway Mountain pass.  So I was looking forward to that, and happy to have gotten to meet some more wonderful people who reminded me of parents or grandparents, very nice people and a pleasure to be around.  I then told them I was going to go and get a shower, so I excused myself and told them how I enjoyed the visit, went back to gather my things for a nice shower.

I was all cleaned up and feeling very comfortable, and was excited to get into my tent and relax, and read, and enjoy the memory of the my day and look forward to Sunday, my next day of riding, and the day I intend to get back home also.  I had much ground to cover Sunday, I had much to see, so I began reading David Copperfield to relax a bit, a book which seems like I started so long ago.  I had been reading for about 40 minutes when I heard some banging and noise of some people who I first thought were some intoxicated campers, but then the noises kept getting closer, noises as if they were vandalizing, common hoodlums.  I heard them coming closer and closer, when I heard the female say something to a man regarding that he there is probably someone in the tent, something on that line, so I began feeling threatened, expecting an attack in some way, so out of the darkness I said in a voice that made him re-evaluate his plan.  In an angry, loud voice I yelled "Get Outta Here!" It sounded as if he was only feet away from the tent.  I felt him suddenly stop, and heard for a split second him begin to apologize like a disobedient child would.  They moved on without any incident with me, continuing what they were doing, quieter at first, but then began wreaking havoc again.  I slightly on edge now, and decided I ought to go outside and move my helmet closer to me, as it could easily be swiped if they decided to return, everything else was locked up, the most important things were in the tent with me.  They never returned.

My campsite at McLain State Park

Had a wonderful night sleep, and woke to another fine day, possibly even nicer than Saturday.  It was nicer because I was for the most part very near my final destination, with only further exploring to do that amounted to one big loop around, I knew where I was going for the most part, and was feeling a buzz of excitement inside of me, that good feeling again.  It was 8am when I opened up the tent, outside was sunny and beautiful.  The Park and Recreation marked pickup came and stopped by the bathrooms, and the two of them came over to me and asked if I had seen or heard anything strange last night, and I knew what it was about.  They had apparently pulled out sign posts, and broken some things, and caused some damage all through the campground, various people had input on what their descriptions was, and I had heard them up close, although did not see them.  I assumed they were teenagers but another camper I spoke with had seen them said they were middle aged and the man causing problems was approximately a 300 pounder.  I guess that explains how he was able to push down poles that had been concreted into the ground.  I am glad I had been left alone, because that was the best thing to happen for all of us.  Another lady said he sounded mentally ill.  Who knows for sure.

I boiled some water, made some tea, and enjoyed sipping on it while I planned out my days start.  I wanted to get going, so I began taking down my camp.  One of the nice ladies from the night before walked past and said good morning, and told me not to forget Brockway Mountain Pass, and I told her I wouldn't and again said it was so nice meeting them, and she said they were talking about how nice it was earlier that morning, that made me feel good about meeting some more good people.

A view of US Highway 41 nearing Copper Harbor, MI

So off I went, all loaded up, ready to explore the beauty at the tip of the Keweenaw Peninsula, Copper Harbor and Fort Wilkins, as far as the road can take me.  I decided to continue up US 41, and return on 26 traveling along Brockway Mountain Pass.  41 is a very beautiful route, colors were peak, and visually stunning.  There is a point where the road all of a sudden becomes very black, and the road is under a canopy of beautiful trees.  I was taking video as I rolled into this area and almost decided to turn around and get a photograph of a particular spot that to me was a postcard picture, however I decided to continue on my way, as I knew I could come back around to this spot on my way back, which I did and it was a 10-15 mile return one way, and the sun was not shining as beautifully through the colors, but I did find a spot to park my bike, and snap a few quick photographs.  I learned an important lesson, I need to always capture the shot when I see it, because the light will change if I don't.  This is the photograph I got.  It is not quite as scenic as it would have been at first, however I traveled round trip and extra 30 miles back just to get it, I took it really quickly as their were cars coming, but it shows how scenic it is.

Fort Wilkins

US 41 was such a beautiful and scenic route, the forest was just burning with color, traffic was beginning to become heavy, as it was a Sunday around 12:30pm.  The road becomes so fun and twisty, ups and downs, perfect for a motorcycle, perfect for me.  Taking it relatively slow so I could soak it up, and pine needles making the road slippery in areas, I had to play it safe, and I wanted it to last, as it was so nice.  Arriving in the old town of Copper Harbor, feeling excited to see this area, I continued on to the end of the road, where the pavement ended, so I turned around and stopped in at Fort Wilkins, within a mile of the turn around.  I arrived at the gate and asked the nice woman if I could just go through real quick, and she said it was 8 bucks, because I needed a park pass, however I had to buy a pass last night to stay at McLain, so I showed her it, and in I went.  Happy I was able to use this overpriced pass that I had to buy in addition to the 26 greenbacks to camp the night before, and get in and see this historic complex which I may not have paid additional for that day.  I pulled into the parking lot and parked next to a gorgeous Ferrari.  I snapped a quick photo of it to get my camera adjusted, and headed in to see the fort.  I wanted to try and decide who owned this car, as they were very few cars in the lot, a little game I wanted to play with myself.  I headed up the walkway, the sign pointed me to where I needed to go, I was headed to my destination, Fort Wilkins.  As I had passed a few people, I noticed an older man and woman walking together, and I guessed they were the owners, very well groomed and dressed, I said hello to them and they returned the greeting very kindly.  I was walking towards the fort and it was very interesting, there was sharpened trees made into poles surrounding the entire fort, the old version of high security fences we have now. There were log cabins, with bright white chinking along the trail, and then into the fortress, there was a huge yard with cabins surrounding three sides and the water on the other side, with a big cannon pointing towards the inlet.  I envisioned what it was like, how exciting and rustic living back in those days, being completely self-reliant on what only the people could provide, the unity that was needed to survive, the winters, the summers, the attacks, getting food, these were a very hearty people, and they built something spectacular, and imagined the wonderful times as well as the tough they must have had living in such a community.

Fort Wilkins

I needed to make tracks, as I had many miles yet to cover this day, so I walked the ground relatively quickly, enjoying this location, and headed back out to the parking lot.  I heard a very unique sounding engine start, and I knew it to be the Ferrari.  As I got closer, I saw it still there, and it started backing out, with the most interesting engine sound.  The two I believed to be the owners, were indeed inside.  As I walked closer, they both waved at me, and with his window down, I said, "Gorgeous car" and he said "Thank you," with a big smile.  I could imagine that a car like that could create a smile very easily.  So I was pleased I was correct in my observation as to who owned the car, and it was fun to see such a fine automobile.  I suited back up and off I went again, down the road, looking forward to my new route I was heading down.

I was going down the road and I caught a quick glimpse of an old sign directing towards the Brockway Pass to my left, and there it went past, "Hey, that's where I need to go!" so I turned around, and awkwardly turned up the steep pass road peppered with loose rocks, as another car was coming down to the stop sign.  Up , up and away I went, slowly chugging up a fairly steep incline, looking forward to what I was going to see.  The road is old and not in new shape, it is all cracked and bumpy, almost like an old carriage path, I have only ridden upon it in the winter when it is a groomed snowmobile trail, and this was fun.  It just keeps climbing and climbing higher and higher, switchbacks around every bend.  I could see off my left side I was having a spectacular view of the town and the lake, and the islands, and everything, it was really awesome.  This first main lookout spot was empty when I arrived, and I was happy to have the whole view to myself.  I got the kickstand down and extricated myself from my bike, and I heard another vehicle coming, and it parked, and another, another and another motorcycle with a trailer, and more people, and suddenly there was all kinds of people up there with me.  The view was very spectacular.  The photo is below.

View atop Brockway Mountain Pass

 After visually inhaling until I was ready to move on, I loaded back up and continued along the pass.  The views are very scenic along here, rolling hills, ravines, foliage as far as the eye could see, I felt really blessed to be seeing this, and very grateful I was able to make this trip.


  So I continued on my way down the pass, seeing the Ferrari again, and giving a wave to the nice people, I don't think they realized it was me again, however the road does demand concentration.  I continued to the end of the pass and returned to the highway, and made my way back the approximately 7.5 hours to home.  I arrived back at 10pm, feeling tired and accomplished, weary from driving in the night, having to be aware especially of deer, which can be disastrous to meet up with, thankfully I saw a few, but did not have any close encounters, trying to go as quickly as I could safely go, however meeting oncoming cars make visibility extremely difficult, and if a deer did run in front of me, it is very possible it would be too late to take swift and safe action, leaving me very possibly along the road in dire straits.

This was my trip through through three states, into upper Michigan, where the spirit of the wild is alive and well, where a great story can be made and memories created, where people seem happy.  My senses were exposed to something very primal and beautiful, making me grow more as a person.  Mileage for this trip was exactly 899.6 miles.
 

"It is the night. My body's weak.

I'm on the run. No time to sleep.

I've got to ride.

Ride like the wind

to be free again"~