It’s a long story…

Ludington, Michigan – Devil’s River Campground, Wisconsin

Still enjoying things

When Diana and I left New York a few weeks ago there was an unspoken understanding about how this phase of our journey would go . . . 

The unspoken thought was that, to some extent, this was more a part of the journey to be endured than to be enjoyed. Yes, September might still be fine – but once we reached October we could end up with 30s or 40s and rain, or even a little snow . . . After all, by October we knew we would be in the northland – with no oceans around to moderate cold fronts that might be swooping in from the polar regions at any moment . . .

With that in mind, I think it’s fair to say that both of us were thinking that we would just want to put our heads down and ride as long as we could each day – just to get done as soon as possible. 

In this regard, in our minds this phase of our trip was a little bit like the Ushuaia Campaign. You can take your time – but you might be paying for it with bitter cold . . .

Up to you . . .

I am happy to report that the reality has been much different. Sunny skies. Warm temperatures. We’ve even had the wind at our back some. And now, having crossed into Wisconsin – with around a week of riding to go – even Diana – generally the more cautious member of the team – has let her guard down a little. Because the forecast is pretty darn good.

I mean – not 80s or anything – but highs in the 60s in mid-October? We’ll take it.

The upshot is that we’re now looking upon this last week not as a desperate trek back to home – but as a chance to finish the trip with a flourish. 

Which is why I am, right now, sitting a few feet from Devil’s River, in front of a warm campfire, listening to the soothing sounds of the water gurgling and the fire crackling.

Our plan for the afternoon had been to disembark from the ferry, climb onto our saddles, and ride Old Dan and Little Ann as fast as we could to Green Bay. But once the more relaxed ethos crept back in, Diana found an amazing campground for us – and that’s where we are now. 

More on the campground in a minute . . .

But before we get there I need to tell you about John and Gloria . . . 

This story begins shortly after we boarded the floating nursing home that they call the SS Badger – the ferry that runs from Ludington to Manitowoc. 

“Hey Hon,” I say. “Look at this. Ben Creagh (a friend and blog reader) says he is from Manitowoc and that we should get ice cream at the Beerntsen’s Ice Cream Parlour.”

Diana perks up instantly. For her, intelligence on frozen confections is always welcome.

Within a minute we have a new plan. Once we arrive in Manitowoc, we will disemark and go immediately to Ben’s recommended destination. 

The next four hours pass without incident. 

Well, that’s not entirely true. The other passengers have some rousing games of bingo. And there is some serious napping going on. The good thing about the Badger: it can make you feel really young. That’s because, for reasons that we don’t quite understand, the average age of the passengers seems to be about 93. Lots of walkers and orthopedic footwear to be found.

So, when we finally reach Wisconsin, we’re feeling pretty youthful as we wheel our bikes off the ferry. 

Now, you might remember the pre-9-11 days – when loved ones used to line up at the jetway to watch for their husbands or wives or children as they came off the plane. That was kind of how the scene was today: a few people stood behind a little piece of rope – waiting for their grandparents to arrive. 

But we’re not really paying any attention . . . Our minds are already at Beerntsen’s. 

“John.”

I look up. I guess we’re all programmed to look up when we hear our name. But I don’t know anyone here – and with a name like John I’m used to just walking by . . .

”John?”

I look up again. 

There’s a man looking right at me. 

I’m pretty good with faces, and I don’t think I know this one – unless he’s the scientist from Back to the Future – but we are back in the (real) Midwest now, and sometimes in Minnesota I encounter random skiers who might know me – so I’m thinking: “Well, maybe this guy does know me somehow . . .”

I look back questioningly.

”I’m Ben Creagh’s father,” he says.

(Okay – have you been reading carefully? Because if you have, you’ll recognize that name . . . The one who recommended the ice cream shop . . .)

Pretty fun. Ben’s Dad, also named John, has come to the boat to greet us. We agree to go to Beerntsen’s – because, of course, he knows Beerntsen’s . 

I guess Ben had forwarded the blog post to John and Gloria. They read it, and told Ben that Diana and I sounded like people that they’d like to meet. (Which just goes to show that you can fool anyone . . .)

Ben told them that they were in luck . . . We were, at that very moment, en route to Manitowoc on the S.S. Badger. 

So fun.

Better yet, Ben’s Mom, Gloria, also materialized at the ice cream shop – bearing cookies and apples.

I love Gloria!

What a welcome back to the Upper-Midwest, to the Central Time Zone, and, basically to our homeland!

A little more on Ben.

Some might say that I don’t know Ben that well. He’s around 15 years younger than me, has much younger kids, lives half-way across town, and we’ve really only seen each other at ski races. 

But that’s one of the great beauties of cross country skiing. The people you ski with — especially the people you race with – you end up with a special bond with them. And Ben and I have been racing together for years. 

The last five years have been especially good. You see, our respective skiing trajectories crossed over these past years. Ben’s on his way up, and I’ve been on my down. So for a good year or two we were skiing together pretty much for whole races. Which has left me feeling pretty close to him.

And then Ben has provided a few good suggestions on the trip. Turns out that he spent a year or two in Santiago at one point – so he had some wisdom for us when we were in Chile. 

Ben’s going to get a pretty big bear hug from me when I see him next!

Of course, John and Gloria were not the only welcome signs . . .

There was the first Minnesota license plate we’ve seen in a year.

The first Kwik Trip.

The first Salted Nut Roll.

And the first time we’ve encountered someone who asked us which part of Minneapolis we came from. That was Bob, at the campground.

Which, by the way, was by far the best campground we’ve been to on the whole trip.

Primitive campsite along the river, with a big stone fire ring and a picnic table all to ourselves.

Old mills and cabins scattered about the site.

And the river itself – with waterfalls and pools and slabs of granite. Again, all to ourselves.

Which allowed me the opportunity to bathe in the water.

But let’s talk for a moment about Bob himself . . .

He told us he had been busy working outside all day – closing down for the year. But from the looks of Bob, and the well-kept nature of the place, it’s apparent that Bob does a lot of outdoor work.

We asked about the campground a little.

“It’s a long story . . .” he started. “My dad bought the whole 80 acres in 1968 for $15,000.”

“Was your Dad from here?”

“It’s a long story . . . He was from Chicago and I guess he ended up a farmer and the county historian up here…”

“What did he do with the property?”

“It’s a long story …”

With Bob there are a lot of long stories… Love people like Bob!

I guess Bob’s Dad tried to run the site as a historical center for a while, and really wanted to preserve all the old stuff. Senator Gaylord Nelson, who started Earth Day, visited on a few occasions. Bob’s Dad purchased some nearby old cabins, moved them to the property, pushed them together, and made a family home and an office out of them. But in the end, the campground turned out to be a more successful business, and Bob is clearly doing a great job running the place.

Kind of reminds me of my brother Jeff with the motel in Duluth…Pretty cool to see multiple generations running a business these days…

Anyway, if you need a campsite near Green Bay, Devil’s River is the place to go!

A little postscript …

I guess it really is fall around here after all, because it was COLD last night. Ended up having to make a morning campfire to go along with our coffee and oatmeal just to get ourselves out of bed…