Ontario, Canada and Michigan's Upper Peninsula - Part Three

   We do a decent amount of research before heading out on our trips, but it never fails that when we get there, something quirky pops up about the area we are visiting. Sue found out that Ishpeming is home to the U.S. National Ski Hall of Fame and has a ski jump facility in Negaunee. The training center, which opened in 1925, actually consists of five jumps of different heights within a valley known as Suicide Bowl.

   Neither of us had seen a ski jump in person, so we took a ride over to take a look. We can’t imagine being crazy enough to try it the first time! Below is a photo of the 60- and 90-meter hills. The facility was closed when we arrived, so the the 40-, 25- and 13-meter jumps were obscured by trees from our viewing spot outside the locked gate. Darn, we missed our chance, since the 40 and 13 are covered in plastic for summer jumping!

   ...and just for fun, here is a video of local coach Zak Hamill trying the big hill with a POV camera.

   At the start of a planned ride to the southeast of Marquette, Sue and I were coasting down the steep hill on Third Street when she hit a bump, and something popped on her Colnago. One of the zip ties that anchor the brake housing into the little brackets running down the fork to the disk brake caliper had broken. The cable was flapping all over the place, dangerously close to the spinning front wheel, so it needed to be fixed before we went any further.

   There was a convenient bike shop just a couple blocks back – in fact, we were amazed to find that there were FOUR bike shops in the downtown area – unfortunately it was back up the nasty hill we just descended. I saw the look on her face when considering that prospect, and I quickly switched machines and sprinted back up the climb for the quick fix.

   The Marquette Multi-Use Path provided a gorgeous stretch of paved trail right on the Lake Superior shoreline for about four miles. The trail veers slightly to the left at a Michigan Welcome Center near the town of Harvey to cross through the wetlands area where the Chocolay River (actually more like a creek) meets the lake.

   The trail now had a crushed white gravel surface, and soon a girder bridge with attractive art deco concrete abutments (another relic of the Duluth, South Shore & Atlantic Railroad) carried the trail over Michigan Route 28. Except for a slight bend near the community of Beaver Grove, it was a perfectly straight stretch of railroad grade for five miles!

   My original plan was to eventually circle back north of the city and explore some of the Northern Michigan campus, and Sue expressed interest in doing the same. However, she had absolutely no interest in taking the hilly route I had mapped out, so she turned around at this point to ride on her own.

   A few miles later, to change up the scenery on the way back, I made a left just past the Ojibwa Casino and rode on Rt. 28 for a short distance. I thought it was pretty amazing to find that only 15 miles or so of my planned 40-mile route included roads with no traffic-separated bike paths! I will also mention that the roads I did have to ride had huge shoulders that were remarkably clean, compared to the debris-strewn versions I usually experience in Pennsylvania - that is, if any shoulder exists.

   I hung a right on Lakewood Drive and struggled through a stiff headwind in the neighborhood along the shore back to Harvey. I made a sharp left back at the Welcome Center to ride up into the hills south of Marquette. With the breeze now pretty much at my back, I was flying up along the highway, which had road-separated bike lines on each side and actually featured a tunnel that passed beneath so that cyclist could easy switch over!

   I was heading out toward the Marquette Mountain Ski and U.P. Mountain bike areas, but the climbs were not leg-numbingly steep, more of the long drag type. In fact, the whole three-mile section I rode along County Route 480 was uphill, but only at a 3-4% grade at most.  What made the riding difficult was the wind! The roads are generously wide, and with the aforementioned shoulder on each side, there wasn’t much shelter from the gusts.

   The turn north on Michigan 553 was quite welcome, not only to escape the wind’s full force, but to enjoy the long downhill run back into Marquette. Except for a short incline past the in entrance to the ski resort, there were miles of coasting, and a few times I had to dial back the speed, as worst-case scenarios pop into my head when nearing the 40-mph mark!

   Rt. 553 connected with the Iron Ore Heritage Trail, and I was again tackling the gradual climb away from Lake Superior. I made a right turn on County Route 492, which eventually becomes Wright Road and leads into the heart of the Northern Michigan campus.

   I looped around some of the roads there and found that, despite being founded in 1899, very few older buildings remained and, except for its considerable size, the campus had more of the look of a modern community college. I passed the expansive athletic complex, including the Superior Dome (photo above), which lays claim to being the largest wooden dome in the world, then made my way downtown to our apartment.

   Despite some nagging lower back issues, Sue had in mind a vigorous hike up Sugarloaf Mountain for a wonderful view of Lake Superior and the hills north of Marquette. The hike was really very short and really not so challenging, despite the sign which distinguished our “difficult” route from the one that was “easy”.

   We had recalled a long and somewhat dangerous route taken in the White Mountains when the boys were very little. The 2-3 hours we had spent scrambling up and down rocks, sometimes clinging to slender tree trucks high above Frankenstein Cliff (great name) made the twenty-minute walk up to Sugarloaf’s peak seem rather sad – it even had wimpy stairs with handrails! The views were pretty wonderful, though:

   I think Sue’s disappointment with the hike was completely overcome by her true bliss, spending the afternoon relaxing on a beach, reading through one of her ever-present piles of books. Since I didn’t really have any intention of going in the cold water and, good book in my hand or not, would otherwise get antsy sitting around for so long, we considered the option of a drop-off. The art show going on nearby, which made parking impossible, clinched the idea, and I left Sue to enjoy the solitary peace and went back to watch the coverage of the Tour’s final stage.

   Just a quick closing rant: this was the seventh time in the last eight years someone from the Sky/Ineos evil empire has won the Tour de France. Although there were certainly some thrills in the individual stages, I grew rather sick of hearing the announcers saying that it has been the most exciting Tour in recent years. That just sounded like a commercial for Eurosport – whether an individual/team is competitive or gets blown out, they still have the same result over and over again...a loss! That’s not exciting for viewers of the event, just disappointing.

Ontario, Canada and Michigan's Upper Peninsula - Part Two

   We were up fairly early in the morning to make our way to Marquette, Michigan, since we intended to stop along the way to kayak on Lake Superior. We had a backup plan to do this on the return trip, in case the weather was bad, but the day’s forecast included sunny skies and only gentle breezes. Our kayaks are more of the open-cockpit variety, which could fill with water and sink in extreme conditions, and the lake has been known to have waves ten feet or higher during storms.

   When we arrived at Miner’s Beach and saw signs warning kayakers to have the proper type of boat, I took a walk down to the lake before unloading our kayaks and noted that, although it was a little choppy, we had paddled in much worse conditions last summer off the coast of Nova Scotia. We understood the need to be safe and appreciated the advice on the sign, though – we had our lifejackets, so we were more than comfortable to head out.

   The area nearby is known as Pictured Cliffs, and I don’t know if we were spoiled by our trip last year, but we didn’t think it was any better looking than some of the colorful rock strata we saw in Prince Edward Island. These cliffs did have a bit more carved out areas from years of pounding storms, and in one spot a large ledge had given way and slid down into the lake, forming a narrow chute that we enjoyed paddling through repeatedly. It was particularly fun when we could catch a swell or some wake from a large power boat to push us through.

   Although the water was far too cold for us to bathe, it was pleasant to put our feet in for a while, just to cool off after about four miles of paddling. The beaches were quite different from the manicured versions we are used to in Stone Harbor. The coarse, rocky sand gave way easily under our feet when waves crashed in, and the beach itself dropped off dramatically after just a couple yards into the water.

   I can’t say lugging the kayaks the couple flights of stairs back up the cliff was a highlight of the trip so far. We are, however, getting pretty good at loading them on the roof, though Sue has stated her days of climbing up on top of the van are numbered.

   We reached Marquette a little over an hour later, and we immediately noticed the wonderful rail trail between the highway and the Lake Superior shoreline. The city is a pretty college town (Northern Michigan U.) with a rich history as an iron ore port. Soon after we unpacked at our AirBnB accommodations, Sue took a short bike ride to explore the area, and she excitedly returned to alert me that a train was unloading cars at the giant ore dock to the north.

   The steel industry has taken huge hits in the U.S. due to competitive prices overseas, and the iron ore industry has been affected just as badly. There used to be several ore docks like this in the Great Lakes area, in fact, there were three operating in Marquette alone, with three different railroads servicing the town. Today only one active dock (another is being converted for alternate use) and one railroad, the regional Lake Superior and Ishpeming RR, remain.

   Marquette has an incredible bicycle infrastructure, much of it built on the abandoned railroads, which particularly makes getting around very simple for students - during the warmer months, that is. The city averages over 150 inches of snow a year, and last year had 202 inches! Sue and I really enjoyed the surroundings and the comfortable summer temps, but that type of winter would be a deal-breaker.

   The next morning we set off west on the Iron Ore Heritage Trail, which began right in the middle of town at the former Duluth, South Shore and Atlantic railroad station (currently with no tenant). The paved trail had a decent grade up from the lakeside, and we imagined the railroads were glad the ore cars were empty going back up the hill.

   Because Sue has been attending to many family issues the last few months, she will readily admit to not being at her usual cycling fitness level, as she has only been out on a bike a handful of times this spring. She knew that the thirty-mile round trip I had planned out to the city of Ishpeming and back was probably not in the cards. I kinda had the feeling she was counting the neat-looking mile markers (photo left) as we continued climbing, over three miles away from our starting point.

   The trail leveled out a bit shortly after crossing County Route 492, and the surface changed to a finely crushed white stone. Our route was consistently marked by interpretive signs marking sites pertaining to iron ore mining and described industry that once thrived along this corridor. We soon passed under a steel girder bridge that carried the active LS&I mainline over the trail. A protective canopy had been built to protect cyclist from the pellets that may fall from loose bay doors on the ore cars.

   The abutment and area beneath the bridge were piled with iron ore, and a push broom was actually on hand to clear the trail, if needed! The product form is perfect for loading blast furnaces, and the pelletizing process is described here, if you are interested. I grabbed a small handful of the Cocoa Puff-sized balls as a souvenir.

   When we started to drift downhill towards the city of Negaunee, and Sue dreaded the prospect of having to climb back up, she decided to turn around. A short distance ahead I found the attractive former DSS&A depot, built in 1910.

   Ishpeming was just a couple of miles further, and I had to weave around a major Main Street (it’s actually named Division Street) construction project to find the former LS&I depot. It had been moved many years ago from its trackside position to Pine Street and is now a business.

   I really thought I was going to catch Sue, as I hadn’t gone too much further, and with the wind at my back, I was really moving. However, I never caught a glimpse of her - I think as soon as she hit the downhill, her triathlon time-trialing need-for-speed kicked in!

   Back into town, I cut north on the Marquette Multi-Use Trail, circling the university campus over to Presque Isle. The trail ducks under the rail leads to the iron ore dock, so this gave me a chance to see this unreal structure again. I did about a two-mile loop through the wooded park that sits on the small peninsula that reaches out into Lake Superior.

   I followed the trail back along the shoreline into the city center, then climbed the short steep hill up 3rd Street to our place on Michigan Street. I looked forward to checking out the rest of the trail that followed the lake shore, but that would wait for another day.

Ontario, Canada and Michigan's Upper Peninsula - Part One

Wow – it feels like another planet up here in the north, compared to the string of humid days in the mid-90s were experiencing back home! Timing wasn’t quite right, as we should have left BEFORE the heat wave set in, but it sure was refreshing to ride our bikes around for even a short distance without feeling like we were going to collapse into a totally dehydrated heap.

   In anticipation of departure early Monday morning for our trip through Canada to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, we had all of our packing done Sunday night. Sue and I had parked our van under the big maple tree that shades our driveway in order to get some relief while we strapped the kayaks to the top rack. The rest of the loading seemed much less painful (but not much less sweaty), and as everyone knows, the Larimer bikes always go safely inside the vehicle when transporting them!

   During our many journeys to the Midwest and beyond, we have always traveled the PA Turnpike, then I-70 through Ohio and Indiana in at least one direction of the trip. Quite frankly, this route is pretty boring, so we decided to go “up and around” through New York’s Southern Tier, cross into Canada at Buffalo and make our way across Ontario.

   I hadn’t done any cycling for a few days, as the temperatures weren't exactly inspiring me to get outside, so I had hopes that I would have an opportunity to ride during our short stay in Barrie, just north of Toronto. I had mapped out a route ahead of time, featuring the city’s waterside trail that followed a nice portion of Lake Simcoe.

   There was a large volume of traffic at the border checkpoint, which then put us into Toronto’s rush hour, so we were later into Barrie than we had planned. I realized I was going to have to scrap my plans for a longer ride. We had also been in and out of showers almost the whole drive, but conditions were dry enough for Sue and I to take a nice, relaxing spin in the wonderfully cool evening air!

   The neighborhoods around Barrie gave us the feel of New York’s Finger Lakes towns like Watkins Glen, Ithaca or Skaneateles, but there was a greater population base here and more high-rise development in the city center. Being only a little more than an hour outside of Canada’s largest city (Toronto), I guess that is to be expected.

   I always enjoy driving to new places, especially when the traffic is light, so the next day’s journey up Ontario 400 was really nice. It is amazing how much of the area from Barrie to Parry Sound (home of Bobby Orr) was covered by water. There was a constant crossing of creeks and small rivers, and it seemed we were always in sight of lakes or marshlands.

   Farther north towards Sudbury, the highway was frequently passing through dramatic sandstone cuts. An obvious geologic change to the landscape was happening as we neared the region known as the Canadian Shield. To our left we would catch occasional glimpses of Lake Huron’s Georgian Bay, which sits behind Bruce Peninsula and Manitoulin Island. I’ve seen Lakes Erie and Ontario before, but it never ceases to amaze me when I look out over these huge bodies of water and can’t see anything beyond the horizon - they seem like mini oceans!

   Our next destination was Sault Ste. Marie, which is in reality a city split in two internationally. The St. Mary’s River separates the U.S. and Canadian sides and serves as the junction between Lakes Huron and Superior. Shipping traffic through the Great Lakes system bypasses the rapids at this location via the American Soo Locks, the world's busiest canal in terms of tonnage passing through them. We plan to stop on our return trip to visit the locks and hopefully time it right to see a large ship coming through.

   I did enjoy a long, late-afternoon ride around the area, following the “Hub Trail” into town along the waterfront. I saw a couple small freighters, but not any of the huge Laker ships out on the river. The trail passed the Bushplane Museum, the marina and Station Mall, from where the Agawa Canyon tour trains depart.

  

   I headed north on the Hub Trail along a street called Carmen’s Way, then turned west to head out toward the airport and Shore Ridges area west of the city. To my left was the Essar Steel Algoma plant that receives much of the iron ore shipments for which the Upper Peninsula area is so well known.

   As I pedaled along Base Line, the wind picked up with pretty vicious gusts and was only getting worse as I neared the lakeside, so I decided to cut my planned route a bit short and save my legs. I hung a right on Carpin Beach Road in order to reach Third Line and turned back east. I was flying with the wind at my back and weaved my way back over to the Hub Trail, just a couple blocks from where I left it on Carmen’s Way. The trail crossed a couple of high trestle bridges through the Fort Creek Conservation Area, a beautiful forested park surrounding a reservoir built here in the 1970s.

   There are not a whole lot of options to loop back north of the city, as you are soon out in the wilderness, but I made an attempt using Fourth Line and Old Garden River Road, which on Google Maps had looked like it might become an unpaved surface. I was thinking gravel but was soon to find out it was much worse.

   I was initially delighted to find a relatively new housing community in place and hoped that it was an un-updated map I had seen and that the excellent road quality would continue. My mood quickly changed when someone let their chocolate Labrador loose. I am not a dog person in any way, shape or form, and the owner was not calling the dog back! I had to do a half-mile sprint to keep it from biting me or getting into my wheels. The worse situation was that I had no option to turn back when the road deteriorated BADLY.

   At a cul-de-sac, the asphalt abruptly ended, and I was left with a rutted, rocky path that had occasional deep holes filled with water or thick mud that was nearly impossible to ride through. About a mile in, I was facing a death-defying, rickety bridge over a creek. It seemed that some ATVs had been over it, and I figured that I was much lighter. I held my breath and went for it.

   I was getting absolutely beat up, bouncing around on the ruts and rocks in this "road", until I finally came to a golf course, which I cut across on its cart path. I soon reached the main highway back into Sault Ste. Marie, and it was just a couple miles back to our lodging off of Queen Street. Sue had been a bit worried about my late return, and I was still fuming about the dog owner and the situation he had forced me into!

We’re off next to Marquette, Michigan, and I’ll fill you in on the details next week.  

Rockaway Beach - Hey, Ho, Let's Go!

Yes, I know those are words to two different Ramones songs; I couldn’t get their music out of my head during my bike ride!

   The more I drive into the NYC vicinity, the more I am reminded how much I don’t like driving into the NYC vicinity. I am also reminded how much more convenient bicycle travel is in the area, particularly with the quantity of available bike lanes, both of the painted-on-road and completely road-separated variety.  

   Let me get my frustration out of the way first. In my somewhat manic desire to not pay an additional $15 in tolls, I always drive from Brooklyn, back over the free Manhattan Bridge, across the island on Canal Street and through the (free NJ-bound) Holland Tunnel.

   My bike ride (more on that coming) ended at 3:30, well before the supposed rush hour should start, and I was excited to think I would be out of there fairly quickly – yeah, right. The actual driving distance is just over ten miles from Brooklyn to Jersey City, and it took me THREE HOURS to go that far!

   I sat at one particular intersection, behind only one car, for ten minutes. Now that doesn’t sound like a long time, but I challenge you to go sit in your car for that amount of time, imagining you are at a traffic signal. It will (and does) seem like an eternity! There were just two lanes, one of which had a delivery truck double-parked within, and the other had a timid driver attempting an ill-advised left-hand turn across a gridlocked flow of impatient New York drivers.

   Not to be outdone, a Manhattan intersection near the entrance to the tunnel had me sitting for a half hour! The traffic cops assigned to the area were doing nothing to help the situation, as they would hold up cars to prevent gridlock and not consider that the drivers coming into Canal Street from the cross streets would leave us no room to advance when our change to a green light would finally happen. Of course, the same pattern occurred at successive intersections, and we were going no place.

   I know there was a Yankees home game that contributed somewhat to the heavy traffic – I’ve experience that nightmare before – and in retrospect, there may also have been a Mets game, matches for both Major League Soccer franchises and a concert in Central Park, but I’m just speculating.

   My main reason for the trip was a bicycle delivery in the East Midwood section of Brooklyn. A very kind gentleman named Solomon took me into his garage to see his collection of bicycles, and I laughed when I saw a unicycle hanging on one of the hooks. I explained that my wife was recently disappointed when she saw a cheap one on a local online marketplace and was beaten to it. I told him I wasn’t sure if she was crazy or just determined to have a half-bike more than me.

   Solomon quickly pulled it down and said, “Take it for your trouble delivering the bike!” My mild argument consisted of, “Are you sure?”, but I think he could see how excited I was to return with my little present for Sue.

   I had pulled into Solomon’s driveway to unload my bike, and I certainly didn’t want to be in his way. I told him of my plan for a ride in the area and asked about a good place to park for a couple hours. He pointed out that parking on his street was fine after noon (it was about 12:30), and a couple of folks were just leaving from in front of his house – aces!

   I recently learned that there would be no Jersey shore rides for me in the foreseeable future, as the Stone Harbor residence belonging to Sue’s family is in need of some major renovation/rebuilding, so I thought I could substitute a loop out to Coney Island across to Rockaway Beach and back as my “shore ride” this year.

   I started west on Avenue L and turned left on Ocean Parkway onto the relative safety of the traffic-separated bike lane. I’m saying “relative” because there were some really bad tree root upheavals/broken pavement sections to negotiate, and a couple drivers made “no-look” right-hand turns to threaten my well-being.

   It was about three miles to Brighton Beach, where I made a right on Neptune Avenue and pedaled about two more miles into Seagate, an appropriately-named community in which riffraff like me were definitely not welcome. The entrance looked like it belonged to a prison more than a neighborhood I would like to visit, let alone live in!

   I obviously wasn’t going to get a view from Coney Island Lighthouse, so I made a right on 37th Street to Coney Island Creek Park and took a photo out over Gravesend Bay of the weather-obscured Verrazano-Narrows Bridge. In fact, the whole day was pretty gloomy with very low clouds, but my luck held out and (spoiler alert) thunderstorms started right after I finished putting my bike back in the car.

  

   I did a U-turn to head back across Seagate to reach the west end of the Coney Island boardwalk. I was well aware that cycling on the boardwalk was not permitted after 10 a.m., but with the crappy weather, this far end was pretty desolate, so I did just a couple blocks before heading back to Neptune Avenue.

   Back into Brighton Beach, I passed under the MTA elevated tracks, were my route’s name changed to Emmons Avenue. I was now riding along an attractive marina area – I can imagine this would normally be a hoppin’ site during the summer, but it was pretty dead, due to the dreary skies and the fact that it was a weekday. At Brigham Street I zigzagged to the right on to a really nice road-separated bike lane along the Shore Parkway and Plumb Beach.

   I crossed the bridge over the Garritsen Inlet into the Marine Park neighborhood of southeast Brooklyn, and probably would have had a really nice view across Jamaica Bay to Rockaway Beach, but the low clouds completely eliminated that possibility. I made a right turn along Flatbush Avenue and soon passed Floyd Bennett Field.

   Named after a noted aviator who piloted the first plane over the North Pole, the site was New York’s first municipal airport, built in 1928 in response to the growth of commercial aviation after World War I. Despite its excellent facilities, it never saw much commercial use, as it was a bit isolated from Manhattan, and bus-to-subway connections didn’t start there until the 1940s. It was used for general aviation, and as a Naval Air Station during World War II, and then as a Naval Reserve Station until 1983.

   The U.S. Coast Guard used a section of the airfield from the 1930s up until 1988, and starting in 1934, the NYPD occupied Hangar 4 as the world’s first police aviation unit. Floyd Bennett Field is now part of the Gateway National Recreation area served by the National Park Service. I recently found out that a 2.4-mile loop of the runways hosts Tuesday night bicycle races June-August.

   I soon crossed the Marine Parkway Bridge over Jamaica Bay – again, no view to speak of, except the water below, and a light, misty rain was hitting me briefly. I pedaled west on Rockaway Point Boulevard until I reached Breezy Point, a private community that only allowed through-traffic to access the surf club at Breezy Point Tip.

   The side streets all had lift gates, but it was a simple swerve-around on my bike, and I made it over to a beautiful bike lane that runs between the dunes and the townhouses that have sprung up here recently. During Hurricane Sandy on October 29, 2012, this area known locally as “The Wedge” was devastated by fires caused by downed power lines and the fact that firefighters simply couldn’t respond, as the seven-foot tidal surge hampered their movements considerably.

An aerial view, taken shortly after the fire. You can see the bike lane,
underwater,cutting diagonally across the upper right of the image.

   I had made a big circle back to Rockaway Point Boulevard and cycled along the coast until I entered Jacob Riis Park. The beach facilities here were pretty sketchy, as I can guess the site was pummeled pretty hard by Sandy, and I’m thinking visitors probably prefer the more groomed beaches and amenities near Rockaway and Long Beach to the northeast.

   I took a right on 126th Street and rode on the boardwalk for a while. The low clouds obscured the upper floors of the high-rises all along the shore, which actually made the area more attractive to me. About 1/3 of the life guard stands were manned, as the beach was practically empty!

   At 109th I made a swerve to the left, down onto the Shore Front Parkway, which again, had a nicely painted bike lane. I’m guessing only about two or three miles of my whole 40-mile loop didn’t have some type of marked lane for cyclists!

   I left downtown Rockaway Beach at 94th Street, heading out the Cross Bay Veterans Memorial Bridge. I had a tailwind and was flying along the Cross Bay Boulevard bike lane, through the marina communities on the spit of land in Broad Channel, into the southwest portion of Queens known as Howard Beach. Here the bike lane swerved over to the less busy 92nd Street, paralleling the heavily-trafficked boulevard.

   I made a left at 157th Street and a right turn on 84th to intersect the wonderful Shore Parkway bike path. I rode about three miles east and exited onto Rockaway Parkway at the Canarsie Veterans Circle. After a couple blocks, I turned left on Skidmore Avenue and then cut across Canarsie Park to find yet another nicely painted bike lane on Paerdegat Avenue.

   In the homestretch now, I made a left on Flatlands Avenue, which intersected with Avenue M, and I ended up back in front of Solomon’s house on 37th. I put my Pinarello back in the car, just in time for some thunder rumbles, a brief but heavy downpour and, of course, the unexpectedly LONG drive home.

  

   I really don’t mind helping out customers in NYC, particularly when they don’t have vehicles or if they are willing to compensate me for delivery, but I think I would like an extended break from contending with the rush hour traffic. I’m appreciating more and more the easy option of parking in New Jersey and cycling into the city.