Month: August 2026

This is an easy morning. Last night we packed and got things ready to leave. It did rain overnight, and the screen tent and chairs are dry. We skip breakfast and drive out of the campground. We will stop a few kilometers up the road for breakfast sandwiches and coffee. These are eaten, so we drive a few more kilometers to get apple fritters; these are the best that I have ever eaten. They are similar to fastnachts, light and fluffy.

With the treats in hand, we head toward Sault Sainte Marie looking for a nice spot on the bay to enjoy the treats. We find a spot and walk to the beach, sit on driftwood, and enjoy breakfast’s dessert.

In the Soo, we find the bridge to the US border. Getting through Customs is a breeze; we are back in the state.

I feel a bit saddened to be here. It is like the feeling at the end of the 2022 tour. Sad to be back home. In less than a mile, the highway is riddled with litter. The whole time in Canada, I never saw any trash on the roadside.

The miles go by quickly. We drive into the small town of Grand Marais for groceries. This is a nice town with a nice brewery. I buy a growler after a few samples. I’m hoping to stop on our way south in a few days.

The campground is another fourteen miles on a small road through the forest. We turn into the campground and find our site. It is set back from the overlook of Lake Superior. This is a nice, clean, and quiet place. Our site is protected by trees from the strong cold wind coming off the lake.

I set up the hammock and walk to the lake to watch the sunset.

The rain came last night with soaking water. As I walk to the restrooms, I see many tent sites with lines strung and wet sleeping bags, sheets, and clothing hanging desperately hoping to dry this damp, cloudy morning. Nancy wishes for eggs this morning, so I’ll cook four. I set up the camp stove on a wet picnic table and begin short-order cooking. Moe is beginning his luckiest day ever, with two egg plates to lick clean.

Our next campsite is primitive, with no pit toilets or water. When we stayed at White Lake, there was a water warning: must boil. Nancy brought water to the site in our two five-gallon water containers. After breakfast, we put bleach in them and filled them full with water. Then, we went for a hike.

The first trail brought us into the woods on a rocky path and a steep bank. The path, millions of years old, was the edge of Lake Superior.  Above the bank was the shore.

The trail ends at The Rock, which is four billion years old and was deposited here by the glacier.

Retracing the trail brings us to another trail that leads us to a driftwood tepee.

We now are walking the trail along the lake.

After dinner, I step outside to wash dishes. It begins to sprinkle, and the forecast is for overnight rain. We will be leaving in the rain tomorrow. Nancy begins taking down the screen tent, and I finish dishes. It is just light drizzle; we get everything put away to stay dry. Coming back from a shower, I see a rainbow over the campground.

It is raining. Today we will need to move to a nearby campsite in another loop. We will be near the showers and laundry but also closer to the road. The Trans-Canada is a busy road twenty-four hours a day. We will be here for two nights.

Nancy makes pancakes for breakfast. Um, why not? We are at Pancake Bay. We start planning where we might go next. We will be heading to Nancy’s brother’s house in Mount Gretna, PA, to pick up Inky.

At 11 a.m. we hitch the camper and drive a short distance to the new site. The rain stopped, and to simplify, I followed Nancy on my bike.

We are now settled in and drive the three kilometers to a store to get lunch and groceries. Then off a little farther to get apple fritters, everyone raves about. They are every bit delicious.

Now it is time to do laundry. Back at the site, I snack for dinner, relaxing with a beer. This has been a well-deserved no-exertion day.

I slept well last night after the climbs and distance. Sixty pounds does not play well with gravity. But it does drop like a stone when the climbing is over. Until the next time, and in Canada, there seems to always be a next time.

I had thought when I got to this campground most of the climbing would be over, and I’d be on a gentle slope to Pancake Bay. Boy was I in dreamland.

My morning start begins at 7 a.m. with a dew-covered tent. I’m mostly in shade, and it’s a cloudy morning. I pack all but the tent and cook breakfast. After eating, the tent is still damp. OK, I’ll pack it wet and hang it out to dry when I get to the next campground. The ground cover is still wet with pine needles sticking on the underside. Well, that too will need to dry after my day of riding.

I’m packed and off, or so I thought. On the way out, I spotted two very nice hammocks hanging in a campsite. I stopped to ask about the hammocks. One is the exact one that I’m planning to purchase. Claudette is interested in my bike and the way I have it set up. She would like to tour someday. Patrick is also eager to learn. The offer for me to get into the hammock to try it out is better than I had hoped. I now know without any doubt this is the one I want. I am now forty minutes late as I get to the road.

To my surprise, I immediately begin a very steep climb three kilometers long. And this is only the first of ten.

I drop into Montreal River Harbor only to climb another ridge. This time I drop to a bay, hoping it is Pancake Bay. My hopes were too high; I still have another twenty kilometers to go. The mind game starts, and I reassure myself that if I just keep turning the pedals, I’ll get there; if I don’t, I won’t. This simple logic is all it takes for motivation.

These last twenty miles became easier. I got to the park entrance to find out that Nancy’s site is a three-kilometer backtrack parallel to the road that got me to the campground. And, the icing on the cake, a short 17% grade to Hill Top Loop. What a way to finish a ride, heart pumping and lungs popping.

I am now done riding. I unpack the wet gear and hang it on a line to dry. We have dinner and then we bring Moe to the beach. He loves running free on the sand.

Tomorrow we need to move to a different site; it will rain overnight. We pack the screen tent and chair so they will be dry when we move. 

It is dark and I’m ready to sleep. 

I’m up and out of the tent making oatmeal. It is 6:30 a.m. The Irish woman, now living in British Columbia, is also moving around her campsite. She will drive to Toronto today. I am headed to Agawa Bay. Dave on the other side is still sleeping.

I am packed and getting ready to leave when the guy across the road comes over to talk about my bike and touring. I give him my contact info. Hopefully, my blog will inspire him to try touring.

I am off, but I want to pick up some road food and drinks. I have a hundred kilometer ride. There are major climbs, so I plan to ride slow and easy and stopping to eat on top of those hills. Unfortunately, I need to go three kilometers off route into Wawa to do this. Now, I am back on the road.

I hit the first long steep hill, then the second, and the third is four kilometers long and agonizingly steep. The slow trudge lasts forty-two minutes to get to the top. I still have sixty kilometers to the campground. This will be a long day.

I coast down to Lake Superior and enjoy the view. And then, of course, ahead of me are still more long climbs ahead.

I finally arrive at Agawa Bay Provincial Park Campground and check-in only to find that I booked a site in their Rabbit Blanket campground. That campground is now twenty kilometers behind me and on top of a five-kilometer long climb. The campground I am now at is full, with no available sites. The young woman in the office calls the park warden for advice. She lets me know that I can stay here in the campsite saved for emergencies.

I sent up camp and ride to the camp store for cold drinks and ice cream. I am close to the showers and water, so I get cleaned up and cook dinner. It is now time to walk to the beach for the sunset. It’s cool. The moon is in the sky to my left and to my right. The sun dips into the water. This beach really accentuates the beauty of Lake Superior.

Back at the site and ready to sleep.

I walk over to Robin’s Donuts for breakfast takeout. I walk back to the motel to eat and get ready to go. It did rain last night, so the motel was the better choice. I move the bike outside and double-check the room; everything is packed. I’m on my way. The road is wet, and the sky looks like more rain.

At the edge of town, a bike lane begins. Basically, it is two white lines separating the shoulder from the road.

Nancy sends a text telling me she is leaving White Lake and asks where I am on the route. I let her know that I am halfway to Wawa, forty-four kilometers to go.

I go another twenty kilometers and the bike lane ends. Nancy drives by and stops to hand off some tools that I forgot to bring when I left White Lake. The timing is perfect. There is enough shoulder for her to pull off the road. Ten kilometers back, I began having brake trouble. The pads are sticking and not releasing, rubbing the rotor. With her help, I take off the front panniers and the wheel. I soak the pistons with alcohol and press them in, pump the back out, and repeat this multiple times. They now work properly. Everything is back on the bike. I begin riding the final miles to Wawa. Nancy continues to Pancake Bay.

It begins to sprinkle; the cars coming toward me have the wipers on. I continue; the sun breaks through the clouds. Finally, the sun.

I arrive at the campground, eat a bit, and then set up the tent.

Dave, the next site over, comes over to visit and offers tea and V8. We visit again later on. The sun has set, and I’m ready to end the day.

Last night I studied the weather, mileage between places to sleep, and distances I could ride this bike hauling sixty pounds up hills. Rain is in the forecast for Friday and Saturday. I want to be at Nancy’s campsite in Pancake Bay, two hundred seventy-six kilometers (one hundred seventy-six miles) away. I checked the route for places to stay, camping or motels. The first day would be thirty-five kilometers, the second is eighty-eight kilometers, the third is 100 kilometers, and the next is sixty-five kilometers to Pancake Bay. There are thirty-eight major climbs, so it is not an easy stretch. The campgrounds are now set, so I need to pull this off and get there before the rain. I will be able to rest listening to the rain warm and dry.

It is a short day, so I linger over breakfast and coffee. The panniers are still packed from yesterday. I’m on the road at 11:20. I am now riding mostly in the Superior National Forest. This section has many small lakes scattered throughout the trees.

Today I have two options for sleeping in White River. One is camping for free on the lawn of the visitor center. The second is a motel right on the highway. I get into town, a very small town of between eight hundred and a thousand people. There are choices for stocking supplies and restaurants for dinner and breakfast. The visitor center is right next to the highway. It’s well lit and noisy. And, rain is coming overnight, just long enough to make tomorrow a late start. I choose the White River Motel.

I settle in and then walk the short distance to the White River Bar and Grill. The food is good, the dessert is super.

I then walk across the street to the Winnie the Pooh park. This is where the story of Pooh began, a real black bear.

The story

On August 24, 1914, Lieutenant Harry

Colebourn, a Canadian Army veterinarian from Winnipeg, was traveling by train through White River on his way to military training for World War I.

During the train stop, he encountered a trapper with an orphaned female black bear cub.

Colebourn bought her for $20 and named her “Winnipeg,” after his hometown. He soon shortened it to “Winnie.” 

Winnie went with Colebourn to England and became a beloved mascot. When Colebourn’s unit went to France, he left Winnie at the London Zoo.

A young Christopher Robin Milne became fascinated with Winnie at the zoo and named his own teddy bear after her.

Christopher Robin’s father, A. A. Milne, subsequently used the name Winnie for his famous character. Winnie-the-Pooh was published in 1926.

It is only 7 pm but I’ll be in bed shorty.

It rained all night, a steady downpour. I’m inside dry, my bike is also dry. All but one pannier is packed and on the bike. Yesterday I only removed one rear pannier. Everything I need for a motel stay is in that bag. I emptied the contents, the sleeping bag is airing out on a side of the king-size bed. All the camp clothes are also spread out in the air. So today, packing is easy and quick and all my clothes have lost the damp feel.

I put everything back into the pannier and walk down the hall to the breakfast room. The selection, eggs and sausage, fruit cups, hard-boiled eggs, yogurt, muffins, and bagels. Orange juice and coffee are in cups on the table. This food is now refueling my muscles.  On the way out I grab some bagels for the road. On average, it is ninety kilometers between places to restock. I am now set for the day.

It is 9 a.m. and I am outside straddling the bike.  The air is still holding mist and the road is damp. I begin the ride, the shoulder disappears and a passing semi blows road spray on my bare leg. It feels cold and soon dries as my legs turn propelling me on my way. There are hills but I climb them in the big ring. Up until now I have had to drop into the granny to climb.

The day stays overcast blocking the sun’s heat. This is also a relief. The sixty-one kilometers is passing quickly. I notice that my legs feel right again. They are tired with plenty of pop. This is how they should feel on a loaded tour.

I get to the sign for the campground on White Lake. Turning off the Trans-Canada onto a small park road feels good, I’m almost to the end and it’s early in the afternoon. But wait I still have one more hill to climb. I get to the entrance gate and check in. Then I find that missing hill. A long steep climb! The road levels and I arrive at Nancy’s site. Moe wakes and notices me, I am greeted by a hopping bouncy pup, all smiles and full of licks.

Nancy makes us sandwiches. Then we walk to the beach. We find a ball on the shore, Moe now has a souvenir and the amazing thing, this dog does not like water or to be anywhere near it. But, he will go into the water to retrieve this ball!

I am now relaxing into the cool evening air. 

As I lay on the mattress wrapped in a warm sleeping bag, I soon realized that I stayed up a bit too late. It was so worth it! This morning I feel sluggish. It is still early, I don’t need to rush. I soon reach for my riding clothes and dress for the day. I roll up the mattress and stuff it into its bag.

Feeling a low-calorie balance from yesterday’s long climbs, I put oatmeal into the pot and light the stove. I begin packing the fly; there is no dew this morning. Next the tent, and with the panniers packed, I walk to the shore for the morning view.

Now ready to ride, my head needs to catch up; the morning stale is still musty in my brain. Off I ride into the chill. I first ride over the Tyler and Dawn’s campsite. One last chance to visit. Now I am really starting the ride. I have twenty-eight kilometers to Marathon. There I have a couple of options to sleep. One is off route four kilometers to a town campground. The other is a motel right on the route. It is supposed to rain by 3 p.m. and continue until 8 a.m. the next day.

I’m riding a short distance, but the many long climbs and fast descents with tractor trailers buzzing by are both physically and mentally draining.

I get to where I need to decide. The motel is right in front of me. It is 12 p.m. and the Airport Motor Inn wins over the campground.

I walk in and ask for a room; they have one for me. It is noon; check-in is 3. I’m told to come back later. I ask if when the room is ready, I would be able to check in early. The answer is yes. I go next door to a convenience store and get ice cream, a coke, and snacks then walk back to the motel. The door opens, and I’m told the room is ready. It is 12:30 p.m.

I move into the room, it’s clean and cozy.

I shower, change, and relax until 4:30. I call for a pizza delivery for dinner. It is raining now, and I’m inside, comfy and dry. This makes for a good night and a better morning start.

Six o’clock came early. I was in a sound sleep, then I was awake. Just like that, the day begins. I roll up the mattress and pack everything. Next is taking down and packing the tent. Nancy and Moe are still asleep. My panniers are piled by the car, ready for what’s ahead.

I open the car door. Moe hears what’s happening and makes his woofing. I hear him inside the door. I open it, and out he comes. He is also ready for whatever is ahead, no idea, but he is ready. I feed him breakfast.

Nancy gets up and takes him on a walk-about. After we finish eating, we load the camper with my bike and gear. Nancy will drive me the twenty kilometers to Terrace Bay. This will take the sting out of those extra early miles.

We are soon at a gas station in Terrace Bay. There is not much here: a gas station and a few motels along the road. The next street, behind the gas station, is a small business district with a brewery and a few stores. I unload my bike from the camper and put the panniers on the bike.

Off I ride. Before I’m out of town, Nancy goes by with a horn toot. I begin my fifty-eight-kilometer ride to my campground. I was warned by many people that the hills will be long and brutal. Turns out, this is no exaggeration.  Hill and after long hill, I get to a construction section of the Trans-Canada. Atop the last hill, as I wait, the flagger offers me a bottle of ice water. We visit as I wait for the oncoming traffic to go by. I am given the go-ahead. I top the hill and drop to Lake Superior and enter Neys Provincial Park.

It is about three kilometers to the campground. I check in and ride to my site. The first thing I do is eat and set up the tent. Walking to the shower building is next. I string a line and attempt to dry my clothes.

Then I walk to the shore. This is a nice, quiet campground with big sites and. Lots of trees.

The day is ending as I sit in my comfy camp chair. I am glad I brought my down jacket to ease the chilly air from the lake.

I am walking along the lake, hoping for some good sunset photos. I get to the end of the loop and begin talking with the family camping at the last site. They are from Thunder Bay. I tell them that I stayed there five nights ago. At a Warmshowers host whose name is Dan. The women say Morrison? They, Tyler and Dawn, are friends of his. Soon, another couple, Winston and Sarah, come to visit; they are also friends of Dan. I stay well after sunset visiting. Tonight, I was given a gift.