Day 5
Did some exploring on Day 5.
Got up and had breakfast at the diner next to the hotel. Young wonder-woman served me. Cute and a workhorse, serving and bussing and I think washing dishes too. Probably cooking. Not many people can work that hard and still smile.
A few years ago I rode to Partridge Falls on a remote part of the Pigeon River, which defines the US/Canada border up there. I rode to it on the US side, I was curious if I could get there on the Canada side. No reason, just a thing to do. There is just the faintest of roads shown on Google Maps. So, I figured I'd see if I could get in there.
First I went into the Provincial Park and checked out Kakabeka Falls. Weather was nice for a bit of walking around. The falls were nice enough, but the geology was probably more interesting, with a cut through millions of years of rocks showing along the side of the river.
Ran down one dirt road I noticed to Whitefish Lake. Nice enough ride, but I turned around before reaching the end, wanted to save my time for Partridge Falls.
I found my turnoff for the Falls, and it was a pretty decent road. Really didn't know what the point of it was, didn't seem to get logging traffic. Didn't seem to get much traffic at all. Didn't seem to go anywhere in particular. But except for some beaver activity and a few water crossings, it was pretty good.
After a while I pulled out my phone to check the map. There is no cell signal out here, but you can download a ton of maps to the phone now which is really helpful. And I saw I was heading the wrong direction. I had missed a left that brought be down to the falls.
In retrospect I should have just kept going, it was a good road well within my means and it would have been fun to follow it through. But I wanted to see if I could get to the falls so I doubled back to find the road I missed.
I found it, and it was quite a bit rougher. Worse, it was a baked surface over mud. Really slick mud. I was riding around really deep ruts where good sized pickups had fought their way though when it was wet.
I might have been able to make it through in current conditions, and maybe not, but if I got rain I would have been screwed. And there was weather brewing to the northwest, a rain storm was a possibility. And I did catch rain later.
So, I did the sensible thing I think and quit on the Falls. I gave up and doubled back. That is never fun. Not really a sense of failure, just knowing there was an experience down that road that I was going to not have. But it could have been a pretty lousy experience, so I probably should just be happy I missed it.
When I got back to hardtop I started thinking about where to camp. It occurred to me that if I rode pretty hard I could be home that night. I don't know what that is, adult homesick? But I've done it before, rode hard to cut a trip a day short. And it was a mistake. But I was feeling unsettled, and my gear was falling apart. The stiff plastic backs of my panniers were splitting I had just noticed. I went through the border with my mind on my bags and my plans, and the kind Border Patrol agent lady had to get me to pay attention.
I used all my Boy Scout skills and trussed up my bags with nylon cord I carry, and went down to Grand Marais. There was an art festival going on and it was a crowded mess. I checked out the town campground, and it too was a crowded mess. I decided to camp at the end of Gunflint Trail at a campground I had ridden through a couple years ago while checking out the area. There is a campsite on the backside overlooking a lake that really had caught my attention. Maybe I could snag that?
So I gassed up fast and ate a bad gas station brat, and headed down the Gunflint. About halfway the rain hit, and I suited up. The campground was pretty empty. It's a sad fact of life: folks don't camp anymore. Forest Service is closing campgrounds in Wisconsin for lack of use. Sad, but it is easier to find a good site at an empty campground.
And hot damn, my campsite I dreamed of was empty. I setup in the rain and rolled into the tent. It was late afternoon but there was plenty of sunlight left. I got comfortable and broke out a book, just easy reading pulp, Satan Bug by Alistair MaClean. Reading, rain tapping against the tent fly, comfortable. What's not to like?
Eventually the rain broke, and I went over to the Trails End Cafe. It is a weird thing, this place is at the end of a very long road, the edge of the middle of the Boundary Waters. Pretty far from most services. Yet, there is this little cabin/building with wifi and a cooler of beers that will make you a sandwich and fries.
Paid for a walleye sandwich and two beers, left one in the fridge until I was ready for it, and borrowed Spenser For Hire book from his bookshelf. Really nice and relaxing reading and listening to the locals chat.
