“You should warn a person about that!” - I Am the Weakest Link - CycleBlaze

July 28, 2016

“You should warn a person about that!”

Day Fifty-Eight: Grand Marais, Minnesota to Pigeon River Provincial Park, Ontario, Canada

Last day.

I woke up in the night, and had an extended coughing and nose-blowing fit in the bathroom. I didn’t think I could ride the next day, and wallowed in self-pity, imagining myself insisting tomorrow that Joy ride up to the Canadian border by herself.

But I felt better in the morning.

It was cool, and I wore the arm warmers for the first time in a while — I’d forgotten the last time I used them, in fact. Neither of us wanted to put on the detested, slimy sunblock, but we eventually did. We were riding the bikes unloaded for the first time in almost two months, since we didn’t need extra clothes, the tent, the netbook computer, the phone chargers, or any of the other crap we’ve been carrying around for this last, easy ride. All I had on my bike was the handlebar bag. Joy was carrying a few tools and a flat-repair kit, and actually had more weight on her bike than I did.

There was a slight headwind instead of the tailwind that was forecast yesterday, but otherwise the weather was perfect — sunny and nice and cool so close to Lake Superior.

I had ridden up to the border from Grand Marais last year, and both of us had traveled this way by car, so nothing we were going to see today would be a surprise, but for this last day I didn’t want any surprises anyway, and it was reassuring knowing that Highway 61 had a wide shoulder all the way to Canada.

I rode ahead of Joy most of the morning. Early on I launched a “snot rocket”, not realizing that my wife was following so closely, and was chastised: “You should warn a person about that!”

Traffic was much lighter on this section of the highway; presumably much of the northbound traffic on 61 exits before getting this close the border. The relatively few trucks and cars, combined with the nice shoulder, and of course the great view of the lake, made this a very enjoyable ride.

We stopped at a rocky beach where we observed a guy “mansplaining” something to his wife and daughter, and then moving some rocks around, apparently in an attempt to divert a little trickle of water, or something. “Trying to change the force of nature!” snorted Joy.

Later, in Hovland (population 80), we pulled off the highway onto a quieter back road that lasted a few miles. There was an old, crumbling concrete dock in Hovland, and I was feeling so good that I did an impromptu little dance there. Joy said she wished she had a camera. Fortunately she did not have a camera.

We talked about what we would do when we got home. Joy wanted to do one thing when she got home: “Stay inside.”

We continued riding. My bike felt light and nimble without the panniers. I would have loved to stand up and really see how fast I could go, but my rear wheel was still broken, and Joy had instructed me to take it easy and sit down while riding.

We stopped for a while at the gas station/grocery/casino inside the reservation at Grand Portage. After that was the last climb of the trip, which seemed much easier than last year, even in my current weakened condition. The view from the overlook of Lake Superior was stunning, and we had a tourist take our picture.

Then it was downhill to the Canadian border, where we had an easy time getting through customs, although I was a little disappointed that they didn’t stamp my passport. We stopped in the Provincial Park just inside Canada and shared the last Payday bar we’d been carrying for weeks. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to eat another one of those things again. Joy did a short hike in the park while I sat at a picnic table, then we rode back into the USA, where I was mildly chastised by the agent at the border crossing because I had never signed my passport.

We waited at Ryden’s Border Store for our shuttle back to Grand Marais, and soon Harriet Quarles arrived to drive us back to Grand Marais. Harriet runs a shuttle service in Grand Marais. She’s awesome, and I enjoyed talking with her on the drive back to our motel.

And that’s the end. I’ll probably write a postscript once I’ve had time to fully process this experience, which I’m sure is the last long bicycle tour either of us will ever do… But we’ll see if Joy’s prediction is true, and I’m planning another bike trip by November, as the days grow short and the leaves start falling.

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Last climb of the trip.
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Into Harriet’s van.
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Today's ride: 45 miles (72 km)
Total: 2,648 miles (4,262 km)

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