Rush Hour Rambling

Weather: Hot, again, under clear blue skies. Rainy on the way home.
Road Conditions: Varied. Dry on Saturday, wet Sunday afternoon.

Andy, Jason, and I stopped to skip rocks on this Wisconsin beach.
For a little while, we were all ten years old again…

Saturday morning dawned, with me still sleeping on the couch in the Fierst’s living room. It had been a late night, and we had planned accordingly. Jason and I were hoping to meet Andy at ten a.m., but that hadn’t been set in stone.

After a wonderful breakfast prepared by Michelle, (Homemade biscuits wrapped around bacon and eggs, yum!), I gave Andy a call, and he agreed to tag along as far as Bayfield, Wisconsin.

When he pulled up into the driveway, we finally got a good look at his globe-trotting steed in daylight. Every other time I have seen Andy’s BMW, it has been either dark, or raining, or both. It was cool to see it in the light of day, and to learn about all of its’ trick modifications.

“Here is a bike to cross continents with.”, I thought, and Andy has done exactly that. Years ago, he rode this bike across the USA and Canada to Alaska, crossed into Siberia, and rode on into Mongolia. That leg of the journey was 17,000 miles, and the return trip took them across China and Japan.

Andy Goldfine and his 1981 BMW R80GS: World Travellers.

While not technically a `Round the World ride, it certainly racked up the miles to qualify. But Andy doesn’t dwell on such details. He rode there because he wanted to. Not to prove a point, necessarily, but maybe as research and development for the kind of gear that Aerostich would eventually offer to the serious riders of the world.

Besides having an advanced lighting and electrical system, this Beemer sports a GPS, satellite radio, and radar detector amongst it’s various improvements. The exhaust system would rate an entire article in itself, but we don’t have room for that here. So yes, we were suitably impressed. But now it was time to Ride!

We headed east out of Duluth on Highway 53, but that is all the route info I can give you, because I didn’t take notes. You see, whenever I am riding with someone I trust in the lead, I don’t worry so much about the route, and concentrate more on the scenery.

I can look at lines on a map any time I want to, but I may never actually pass this way again. I want to record as much of the scenery and sensations as I can for future dreams and recollections. Does that make sense to you?

Jason led us over rolling hills and twisty dales, and into a rest-stop at the beach pictured at the top of the page. I didn’t need to stop for anything at that point, and was puzzled at the interruption of our ride. But after we dismounted and walked down the steep incline to the beach, I was very glad we stopped.

Driftwood, smooth stones, and miles of sand… I had forgotten how beautiful this part of the country could be. I stood there in awe, just gazing out at the surf, until Andy picked up the first stone. Then, suddenly we were all boys again, and the hunt was on for flat, skippable stones!

These were tossed with abandon, just like when we were kids, for a little while at least. Did we keep count? You bet we did! Andy won…

Maggie’s in Bayfield, Wisconsin, was our lunch stop on Saturday.

Then it was on to Bayfield, Wisconsin, where the ferry boat to Madeline Island docks.

That ride, in my memory, is just a blur of perfect roads and brilliant sunshine. Rolling into town, the three of us looked around at this little fishing village gone mad with the tourist trade.

Sailboats were everywhere in the harbor, and many motorboats were towed behind trucks and SUVs. Parking was at a premium on the streets.

We stopped briefly to discuss our immediate future, and Andy came through for us again with his suggestion of Maggie’s for lunch. We rode over there, parked in the shade under the trees across the street, since the sun was so hot by then, and walked into the crowded little diner.

After giving my name to the hostess, we were directed to a sort of lean-to built on to the end of the building, without air-conditioning, to await our call to table. In order to accentuate our lowly status as walk-ins, she shut the door behind us soon after we had sat down.

But in the end, the little sweat-session was was worthwhile, because the food was absolutely marvelous.

Maggie’s “Cochinita Pibil” – Mexican shredded pork… delicious.

Maggie’s has an extensive menu that is viewable on their website, including some incredible pizzas, so any of you who are seriously thinking of a visit can preview it beforehand. Isn’t the internet a wonderful thing?

Lunch was punctuated by more scintillating conversation…

Jason, Andy, and I seemed to have made some sort of intellectual connection that needed exploration and definition. But as always happens in our modern world, Andy had other things to attend to, and Jason and I had to decide whether we had time to explore Madeline Island after our extended luncheon with Andy.

In retrospect, being former military men, I realize that we never really had a choice. After Andy left, we decided to press on with the mission.

And a pleasant mission it was…

Vehicles of all kinds crowded aboard the ferry. Jason enjoys the ride.

The cost for the ferry-boat ride was a bit steep, at $23 round-trip for a motorcycle and rider. But I had allowed for that beforehand, and these folks do have to make a living, after all.

There were all sorts of vehicles on the ferry, and many people who just walked aboard. It appears that Madeline Island isn’t just a tourist destination. I think the locals board the ferries to travel out there, just for a change of pace. That would be a cool option to have, living in such a northern climate.

Once we docked, and the other vehicles rolled off the boat, we found that there was a bit of congestion on the pier. So I couldn’t take the photograph I had envisioned, of Jason and I invading the island, MacArthur-style.

Instead, I took the photo below, which still illustrates us coming off the ferry, only on the Bayfield side of the water. Sorry about that, but sometimes Reality intrudes upon Art. Also, it might make a difference that Lt. Fierst was Army, and not Marines. But that would make the caption a bit too wordy, don’t you think?

The Marines have landed, and the situation is well in hand!

On Madeline Island, we found Tom’s Burned Down Cafe… and you know what? We really didn’t need to go any further. At least not for this trip.

Once Jason and I had parked our KLRs in front of this temporary structure, we looked at each other with a grin of recognition…

All of the best places we have ever been to have had this very same feeling of impermanency: War-zone brothels, prohibition speak-easies, and bootleg bars across the planet have always exuded this atmosphere of rebellion and good-fellowship amongst the rogue element.

We immediately felt right at home.

Chavez, left, and Frogwing, parked next to Tom’s Burned-Down Cafe.
This is why I call the place “Key West – North”…

What more is there to say? On the way home Sunday, I detoured to visit my father, at his trailer in the swamp. Due to that little delay, Frogwing and I encountered heavy rain and hail on the way home.

Because of the severe conditions, we did what we had to do to get where we were going. Some of our actions infuriated rich folks, driving SUVs and towing large boats. Oh, how they honked… and their horns are LOUD! Ya know what?

Tough.

I’ll do the same damned thing next time.

You may own the world, but you will never own the road… at least, not until you learn to ride a motorbike.

Weather: Hot, until we got next to Lake Superior.
Road Conditions: Perfect…fascinating destinations, in great company.

Yah, dat Canadian Enterprise, she’s a big old boot, eh?

Frogwing and I blasted out of the Banner parking lot at 3:32 last Friday afternoon. I figured I’d better give his engine a minute or so to come up to temperature, get the oil flowing smoothly `round his cams and bearings, even though the sun was shining and the temperature was around 90° F.

At almost 49,000 miles, I tend to take more care with my faithful old warhorse.

This is because we would soon be barreling along at his highest sustainable cruising speed, hell-bent to get out of town ahead of all the yahoos towing their boats Up North. For this, we needed Maximum Performance. Once I saw the temperature needle start to move, I booted him into first, and we hit the road.

For the most part, we were successful. We got tangled up in traffic at the edge of the 694 loop, and again when 35E and -W merged back into I-35 headed north. But from then on, it was smooth sailing, and we slid over into the right lane at a nice, sedate seventy miles-an-hour.

Then we settled in for the three-hour journey which would see us in Duluth by dinner time.

Not much to tell about that trip. We have all ridden past miles of suburbia, followed by endless farms and small towns, on these wide strips of Interstate Highway that old President Ike envisioned for our National Security in the “Nukuler Age”.

My good friend Buster Brown calls this type of ride “dead-heading”. You just hum a little tune inside your helmet, pay close attention to the surrounding traffic, and try to ignore the garrish billboards and constant beckoning of the Golden Arches. The road itself presents no real challenges.

Duluth, Minnesota, as seen from a beach near the harbor.

Arriving in Duluth, I was again struck by the ocean-ness of the place; the maritime atmosphere. The only thing missing is that salt tang in the air.

You can see the harbor and the lift bridge from the freeway, before the Interstate takes you down from the heights, into a series of tunnels and exits through the center of the city. Not much to see there until we finally came out on the north side of town, and found the home of Jason and Michelle Fierst, along a winding and hilly road called Woodland Avenue.

Shane Stillwell, Ride-to-Work ™ webmaster and good friend, had his red KLR parked beside Jason’s O.D. green and Hi-Vis orange one in front of the house. We pulled up beside them in the driveway, parked, and I shed my Darien jacket and helmet.

The venting system on the Darien had kept my body cool the whole trip, and the old Arai Renegade helmet did the same for my head. Thanks to this excellent riding gear, I had arrived in good spirits, and with a healthy appetite. Since I wouldn’t be riding anywhere else that night, it was time to party!

From the driveway, I walked into the open garage of this gorgeous white stucco house with a green roof, that looked like it had been decorated by professionals. (Jason and Michelle are both classically trained artists.)

My knock was answered by Jason, and I was welcomed like a long-lost family member.

Jason and Michelle Fierst: Fascinating people, and wonderful friends.

After greeting Shane and Jason, I met Michelle Fierst for the first time. Here was this willowy brown-haired beauty who indulged us in smart conversation with half her brain, whilst bustling around the kitchen, creating a wonderful fresh guacamole and other treats for the palate with the other half.

She repeatedly and stubbornly refused any help from us knuckle-dragging males.

As if to illustrate the dominant gearhead ethos of our little gathering, Jason had to start the so-called “Matchlite” charcoal in the grill with a liberal dose of WD-40. Man, is there ANYTHING that stuff isn’t useful for?

Andy Goldfine of Aerostich was invited, but delayed by work issues. While we were waiting for him, another friend of Jason’s showed up on a beautiful 1974 Norton Commando. His name is Jeff, and he is a scientist working for the EPA in Duluth, where Jason handles administrative and personnel issues .

We had a fascinating discussion about this whole global warming concept, and other things that the EPA is working on, while we were waiting for the charcoal to heat up. The conversation was stimulating, and the aromas coming from the kitchen were making all of us salivate.

You know, it’s really hard to appear intelligent, and to be taken seriously, while you are drooling on your shirt!

On Canal Street, looking towards the Aerial Lift Bridge.

Andy Goldfine arrived on his classic airhead BMW GS, bearing ice-cream and cones for dessert. He waded into the conversation already in progress with gusto, and added a whole new dimension and perspective. The chemistry in our little gathering was amazing!

Jason put steaks on the grill, slathered with his own spicy blend of Southern barbeque and Thai hot-sauces. Then he added some bratwurst for variety. I’m really sorry I didn’t bring the camera into that setting, but I didn’t want to leave for a moment, lest I might miss something!

When we sat down to eat, the delicious food slowed our talk somewhat, and mellowed the mood quite a bit. Soon we entered that relaxed, easy state that old friends achieve after years of knowing each other, yet most of us had only just met. I found that amazing…

Shane and Jeff had family obligations after dinner, and Andy only stayed for a little while later. In the darkness, he gave us a tour of his BMW out in the driveway, which is equipped with farkles that may or may not make it into the Aerostich catalog, but certainly show him to be one seriously savvy rider. More about that in Part II…

Canadian Enterprise enters Duluth Harbor, riding high and empty.

Then it was just Jason, Michelle, and I. Once again, Michelle refused our help in cleaning up, so Jason and I retired to the living room, where I would sleep on their couch. But sleep was long in coming. Jason is an Iraq War veteran; an Army tank commander who won a Bronze Star, amongst several other awards, during this latest conflict in the Middle East.

Both he and I are thoroughly against war these days, unless it is absolutely necessary to defend Our Country. We both took an oath to defend the United States Constitution against all enemies, both foreign AND domestic, and we both agree on who those enemies are at this low point in our history.

And that’s all I’m going to say on that subject here. I went North seeking a nice ride, and a good time. What I found were a Brother and a Sister, and reaffirmed friendships with those who already know me.

Next time, I will tell you about our ride out to Madeline Island; the largest of the Apostle Island chain, and the only one that would let me take Frogwing on a Ferry-Boat ride.

Frogwing, down by the waterfront, Duluth, Minnesota.

I guess this is what you get when you try to cram a week’s worth of experience into two days. I’m tarred, just plumb wore-out, as they would say down south.

It was very difficult to get out of bed and Ride to Work ™ this morning, but I had no choice…

Sitting down at the computer this evening, I was going to start telling you all about the ride Frogwing took me on to Duluth and Madeline Island. I was going to tell you about my friends, old and new, and what I learned from them in such a very short time.

But I was having trouble concentrating, and couldn’t put things together as naturally as I usually do. My energy was gone and The Flow wasn’t there.

So I sat back for a moment, hit the button on the TV remote, and “Rumble Fish” was on. That damned movie blew my train of thought clear off the track. Great…

In 1983, Francis Ford Coppola crafted a dark vision of S.E. Hinton’s novel about the relationship between a former gang leader called “The Motorcycle Boy”, and his younger brother. Critics hated it, so you know it had to be good. If you want to know more, go here.

The last scenes in the movie feature graffiti under a bridge which declare that “The Motorcycle Boy Reigns”.

As the credits rolled, I remembered a photo I took of Frogwing in downtown Duluth, early Sunday morning. Looking at it again, I decided to drain the color from it in Photoshop, and bump the contrast a bit, as an homage to the movie. That’s it, at the top of the page.

Give me another day to rest up and process all this stuff that’s bouncing around in my head.

Duluth, Madeline Island, and beyond… Tomorrow. I promise.