2010 Alaska
Sunk
Part 12 of 15
Beautiful
Duluth
Which Border?
Wisconsin
Hospitality
Beautiful Duluth
Its no wonder they call it
the San Francisco of the mid-west. They're right! As soon as I found
that out I recognized the similarities right away. The lay-out of the
City; the style and architecture of the buildings and the residential
housing is quite European - as is San Francisco. When I walked along
the lakeside promenades and saw the parks and the amusement arcades
they reminded me of happy days in the sea-side town of Southport,
England.
It doesn't have a Golden
Gate Bridge or an Oakland Bay Bridge but the steel bridges of Port
Duluth are, nevertheless, striking. I like to see them disappear into
the low lying clouds and then reappear on the other side. This port
is the terminus for shipping on the Great Lakes. Its as far inland as
the great ocean-going ships can go. I sat on a lakeside park-bench
eating a chicken salad sandwich and drinking a diet Pepsi for lunch
as I watched these ships starting to head East. I was wondering if I
could catch a ride to Montreal but then I really didn't want to miss
my ride home over the north coast of the Georgian Bay. Its so
beautiful there. Having said that – Boy Oh Boy!.... was I wrong on
that one! ...Find out why in Part 13 following this Part.
Which Border?
Continuing on US Route 2 I
stopped for a bite to eat at a small cafe in Ironwood. I seemed to be
surviving on chicken salad sandwiches and coffee these days. It was
an informal place located in a small strip mall and most of the
patrons there were local people. Its surprising what effect a Harley bandanna and a leather jacket has on people and before you know it I
was telling a few guys all about my trip to the west coast. They
seemed to be a friendly lot. I got the impression they worked for
some kind of utility company in town. As I was getting ready to leave
I asked them how far was it to the border. There was an awkward,
silent, moment before one of the guys asked “Which Border?” I
thought that was a very strange question since I had been talking
about returning home to Canada but I just let it pass. “The
Canadian border at Sault St. Marie”, I responded. The guys put the
question to the folks in the restaurant “Anybody know how far it is
to the Canadian border?” The range of responses was between twelve
and twenty-four hours so I thought my own best guess would likely be
more accurate. I should have left at that point but I wanted to
confirm that all I needed to do was follow US Route 2 and the
response was “Yes – just stick to Route 2 all the way”.
Shortly after leaving
Ironwood something didn't feel right. From the time of day and the
position of the sun I had to be going south-east and that was not
where I wanted to go. All the rain I had encountered weeks earlier
had turned my maps into wet globs of useless paper so I had thrown
them away. About ten minutes later I saw US Route 28 fork-left off
Route 2 to the north-east. I remembered from the year previous that
Route 28 was the shorter way to go so I took it. Those guys in the
restaurant were locals, surely they would have known that Route 28
was considerably shorter by fifty miles or so – why would they try
to mislead me that way?
Wisconsin Hospitality
Early in the evening I
pulled into a private campground off Route 28 because I was tired and
I wanted to get a good night's sleep. It was a very large and busy
campground obviously very popular with families in camper-trailers.
There were lots of little kids running around all over the place. I
set up camp between two large house-trailers. The place was full and
there weren't many spots left. I parked my Harley just a few feet
away from the door of my tent because I didn't want any kids to climb
on it, knock it over, and get hurt. I zipped the mosquito-screening
closed but left the front door of the tent open so I could see it. A
little boy about ten came over and admired my Harley. He then turned
his head and called his little brother of eight to come and join him.
The third kid was their sister and she was about six. I thought the
safest thing to do was get up and go to join them. They were nice
kids so I introduced myself and I told them about my trip. The eldest
boy turned his head and yelled, “Hey Mom! This man has a Harley and
he's riding across the United States”. She asked me if the kids
were bothering me and I said “No! They're just fine”. She came
over as well and her husband came over after that. I told them about
some of my travelling stories and they were fascinated with them.
They invited me to join them for dinner.
I was served BBQ'd steak
with roasted potatoes; baked beans; fresh garden salad, apple pie and
ice cream for desert, and a couple of beers. They treated me like
Royalty. That wonderful family was from the State of Wisconsin.
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