Irony

Chicago was the cold, and about to be wet, city as we left. Its handle of being windy was only due to the verbosity of its politicians anyway.

Next stop Milwaukee, birthplace and home of Harley-Davidson Motorcycles.

                                    

We stayed at the Iron Horse Hotel (punned after one of the many Harley nicknames and we also have a Harley 'Ironhead' Sportster), one of those industrial chic places. It had previously been a bedding factory and was constructed at the beginning of the 20th Century. It was motorcycle friendly too: heavy duty hooks for helmets and leathers, or in our case, plastics, in the bedroom, complementary parking for the bikes as opposed to $30 per night for a car, and heavy duty stone worktops in the bedrooms just in case you wanted to rebuild your gearbox. There was also a free washing station for the bikes but as it was DIY and less than 10 degrees C, we did not avail ourselves of this facility. Its main claim to fame however is that it is across the road from the Harley-Davidson museum, which we visited the following day. Whilst we were there there were a total of six bikes in the specially reserved for motorcycles parking, and only three were Harleys though three others did turn up as we were leaving. The cold seems to get to these American bikers; maybe if they wore helmets they might stay a bit warmer?

                   

                   

We also visited the Harley factory where they produce the power-trains, ie engines and gearboxes. It was a nice little tour. It passed the time before our midday ferry. However they were not sympathetic to our request for a new gearbox but then again... it has now done a fair few miles since being diagnosed as being a bit sickly. In order to enter onto the factory floor we had to don earplugs and we kept a few for when the gearbox gets a bit too noisy. Harley churned out 250,000 power-trains last year from this plant. It was quite impressive as far as a factory workplace is concerned.

We don't have much to say about Milwaukee itself as it came across as a bit of a wasteland. Not a derelict one, but one with not much going on and some very wide streets and next to no traffic. There was clearly only one sort of tourist in moribund Milwaukee. Not a place to go walking and get lost in. There were no regrets then in taking the ferry across Lake Michigan, which is not far short of 100miles across.

 

On reaching Michigan and after alighting from the ferry we made one of those impromptu decisions and turned left as opposed to going straight on. Turning right wasn't an option. So we headed up the Michigan coast and stayed at a charming little motel overlooking one of numerous marinas. This must be a really nice place to visit in the summer; lots of beaches and watery things to do. With no view except of water to the horizon you do tend to forget it is a lake, especially when there are some sizeable waves on it.

                        

We have got a bit tired of seeing the notices in hotel bathrooms about doing your bit for the environment re water and energy and washing towels.  Many of the motels we stay at, even those in the desert, come equipped with outside hot-tubs so you can gaze at the stars and use more towels too. And what was one to make of the notices in energy guzzling Vegas? Anyway, our little motel in Whitehall/Montague had the same notice but instead of a communal hot-tub, every room had one. And a bath/shower. OK they have one of the worlds greatest sources of fresh water that even the Chicago meat factories and slaughterhouses could not pollute, but the energy to heat these things up?

                       

                      

The road-side scenery? More of those brightly coloured leaves again, maple trees rather than aspen this time. And it is pumpkin season too. How much pumpkin soup and pie can they eat? Clearly not enough as even Starbucks are advertising Pumpkin something or another in their windows. And the local breweries have pumpkin beer too. Pumpkin pie seems to be a means anyway of using up pseudo dairy products and spices that you bought for that special recipe but never ever used again; a sort of grocery cupboard annual autumn cleaning.

                       

We continued North to Mackinac City. We stayed overnight in a very British B&B, called Brigadoon, but did not have time to visit Mackinac Island which was, Channel Island like, averse to the internal combustion engine. A 5 mile or kilometre long suspension bridge, not sure of the basis of the calculation or claim,  takes you North and we took it very gingerly indeed. It was incredibly windy up there and the deck was open-grating with a greenish growth on it which, although undoubtedly very safe indeed, psychologically felt the opposite.

                     

We were now chilled and stirred as we headed to the Canadian border at Sault Sainte Marie and what would be the last sticker to put on the top-box this trip. More bridges as you pass into Canada with the distinctive pine smell from the obligatory timber works on the waterways beneath. By the time we had followed the coast round and arrived at South Baymouth, population 34, on the Manatoulin Islands we were wearing all our layers. Could have done with some additional thin socks too. We will have passed adjacent to Lakes Michigan, Huron and Superior. Massive lakes, all vast. It really is watery up here. And trees everywhere, just as much as Cambodia was logged out, Canada is clearly logged in.

                        

Next stop a short ferry across Lake Huron to Tobermory and it is as charming as the name sounds. The ferry will stop next weekend as the winter sets in so we are just squeezing it in. Can't quite picture where Tobermory's  British namesake is at present; wonder whether it is fictitious or not?

 

 

And now off to our first city in Ontario.
 

Paul & Francoise