July 31, 2018
Day -2
This trip began with a Senior Moment. I intended to take two days to make the journey from home to the Black Hills of South Dakota with plans to start on the George S. Mickelson Trail the day after I arrived. Everything was set to coincide with the travel plans of my friend Dennis who was attending the big motorcycle rally at nearby Sturgis. Since I was riding the trail by myself I wanted the extra safety of having someone I knew nearby to lend a hand should I need one. Dennis wouldn’t be riding his Harley all the time and he already had a place to stay where I could mooch a few nights when required. For some reason known only to my aged brain, I thought I was starting as planned on Tuesday, August 1st which would have been perfect except for the fact that it was actually Tuesday, July 31st. It only took 150 kilometers of driving for this fact to make its way through the fog bank I use for a brain. In a bazaar turn of fate, Dennis made exactly the same mistake and started a day early as well. It appears that dull minds malfunction alike.
Rather than turn back and wait a day I decided to put the extra time to good use. I now had 24 more hours to make the drive to the trail head and time to see some sights along the way. My first stop was the city of Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. The Soo, as most folks call it, is a blue collar town built on ships and steel. Sited on a isthmus of land between Lake Superior and Lake Huron it was naturally positioned to become a transportation hub. However, it is more than its steel, rail and canal locked past. Sitting at the door of Ontario’s far north and blessed with access to boundless hunting, fishing and recreational opportunities it is as much a playground as it is lunchbox and punch-clock. Arriving in the early afternoon, I slipped my bike off its rack and took a tour of the city’s newly reclaimed waterfront.
Along the banks of the St. Mary’s River there is a network of mostly connected walking and bicycle paths that allow you to safely ride or walk while enjoying views of the river ripping its way between two nations. Along the way are a number of docks and boardwalks where you can take in the breeze on a summer afternoon or wet a line with hopes of catching dinner. On your way to St. Mary’s Island and Whitefish Island with their recreational trails, you can pass by the Float Plane Museum where lovingly restored and preserved aircraft tell the story of a land where lakes were the only runways. Paths take you across the working locks of the St. Mary’s Canal to the gravel paths of Whitefish Island and views of the rapids on the St. Mary’s River and a wild environment little more than an arrows flight from the working city. I watched anglers making their casts while nearby kids rode their bicycles and elderly couples walked hand in hand. A tour boat, loaded with camera clickers locked through the old canal on its way down river. It was a peaceful and relaxing spot despite being relatively busy. A pleasant way to pass an afternoon before passing on to Austin, Minnesota the next day.