By Geoff Evans

It was for offers like this that I got into Motorcycling. When "Deadman" mentioned that he was planning a Upper Trip it took me all of about half a second to say I was in. I wasn’t sure how I would get off work or what my wife would have to say about my spontaneous exuberance, but I didn’t care. I was going to the Kewanaw Peninsula on a motorcycle.

When the hour of departure finally was at hand I was confident of only one thing, that I was glad I bought a rain suit a few days before. I met up with Ken and James Jarvis at the Radison Hotel parking lot near US 131 at about 4:30pm on Wednesday, our goal to reach St. Ignance. We were optimistic leaving Grand Rapids that the rain might hold off but by the time we reached Big Rapids our optimism was fading fast. As the miles added up, my new rain suit proved to be invaluable as long as I didn’t mind wet feet and hands. The dark highway, constant search for deer along the side of the road, steady rain and wet pavement were proving to make for an exhausting ride. After what seemed like an eternity we made our way across an eerie, dark, hazy Mackinaw Bridge to St. Ignace. A quick stop at McDonalds for a bite and map study for the next phase of our journey and we settled into our hotel for the night hoping the worst was behind us.

We rose early the next day looking for an early start and hoping for clear skies. A quick scan of the weather channel alerted us that we might need that rain gear until we hit Escanaba. Confirming our fears with a peak out the window, we got our gear together, we had a long day ahead of us.

We stopped in Naubinway for an excellent breakfast, a chance to dry off and fuel. The "home made" diner food was quite good, providing that first real feeling of being in the "UP". The walls in the small restaurant were covered in 1970’s vintage dark wood paneling, the most modern feature in the entire building. The tables and chairs were functional yet simple and provided ample room for us to hang dripping wet gear out in a vain attempt to dry it.

We saddled up and hit the highway for a wet uneventful ride through Escanaba along US 2 until we changed course north along route 69. When the skies began to clear it finally allowing us a chance to enjoy the scenery a bit as we made our way to Wakefield. As the day wore on the sun finally crept out to make the afternoon downright pleasant as we made a sight seeing stop at Manabezho Falls, at the mouth of the Presque Isle River.

One of the memorable moments during our trip occurred while visiting the falls. Our trip began just more than a week after the attacks of September 11^th, the events still very fresh in our minds. So it was moving to me to find an American Flag made from the naturally red white and blue stones assembled on the shores of Lake Superior. It reminded me just how lucky I was to make my Motorcycle trip with friends and what a luxury our ride truly was. It was a very simple yet moving tribute to our country.

Another stop at Lake-of-the-Clouds, a spirited ride through the Porcupine Mountains and a stop for dinner completed our nearly 13-hour day of riding and sight seeing. The ride was fun but tiring. We bedded down for the night in a small cabin right on the shore of Lake Superior just west of Ontonagon. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach and the cool northern Michigan air made for awesome sleeping.

The next morning we stopped at a gas station in Ontonagon for fuel and a less than memorable breakfast of prepackaged junk food, then pointed our bikes towards the peninsula. A pleasant if not chilly ride put us in Houghton where we fueled again figuring that it might be our last opportunity for a while. Our in-depth exploration of the Kewanaw began with a ride up M26 and a stop at the Jam Pot for provisions to be consumed later in the day. The Jam Pot, a must for any excursion into the peninsula, is a bakery staffed by Monks who bake all their own pastries, muffins and breads as well as preserves of all types and religious gifts. The proceeds of their endeavor go to pay for a monastery that they are constructing just up the road from the bakery along the shore of the peninsula. When completed the monastery promises to be an outstanding exhibit of interesting architecture.

We continued up 26 for a beautiful picturesque ride along the Lake Superior shoreline to Copper Harbor. We stopped in Copper Harbor for more provisions and then headed to the summit of Brockway Mountain. There we parked the bikes, enjoyed our lunch and the scenic view from our perch high on the mountain. We also took the opportunity to get some very scenic photos of the bikes over looking Lake Superior. The photo session attracted the attention of another two-wheeled traveler who spoke of his journey on his rather decrepit looking BMW all the way from Pennsylvania. Who said you need a nice pretty bike to make a long trip? After some conversation about the local roads, the recent challenges of the weather and riding gear we parted company with the traveler and headed out toward more riding adventures. We headed southwest out of Copper Harbor and looped back to our major riding objective for the day, M26.

M26 is an AWSOME road. It features not only an almost constant mix of sharp curves and long benders but also hills and dips that add an entirely new dimension to the riding experience. The road had been freshly surfaced with tar and pea gravel which kicked up a bit if you followed the bike in front to closely but provided excellent grip despite the illusion of the road being one big gravel pit. For me, a secondary challenge was just keeping pace with Ken on his ’84 Honda Interceptor 700 and James on his ’98 Yamaha YFR600. My ’99 Kawasaki Nomad 1500 was definitely the heavy weight of the group and was way out gunned in the handling department on this twisty. I was paying the price for comfort yet I managed to keep them in site for the duration of the ride.

I think I would compare a spirited ride on M26 to a video game. You have almost no time to think about the next obstacle, just react. Everything in your peripheral vision disappears as you concentrate on the next bend in the road, one glance to check out the scenery and you’ll find yourself starting to loose your line or slide out. We completed our ride and I had one thought on my mind. LETS DO THAT AGAIN! I was having a blast, even on my big Nomad. Ken and James agreed that we had not worn a sufficient enough grove in M26 and that we would have to ride that again. Another stop for fuel and were back at it, this time just a little bit faster.

Perhaps it was my inexperience as a rider, the illusion of loose gravel in the road, a distraction by pedestrians lingering near by, my bikes less than desirable handling characteristics or a combination of all these things, but for me, every motorcyclists worst night mare was coming to pass. Ken and James in from of me took a turn at about 55-60 mph. I followed at about the same speed but for one or all of the afore mentioned reasons, failed to get the correct line on the turn and ended up riding just off the road along the outside of the corner. I held the bike through the turn for about 60’ and was just about to get it back onto the pavement then the front tire hit a large hole in the ground, the front of the bike went sharply down and the handle bar yanked out my hands and went sharp left. I was launched up and over the windshield and clear of the bike. I landed on my head and skidded on my helmet for a few feet then my body twisted around and over my head and I landed on my side just above my hip… on a rock of course.

I immediately stood up and took a survey of myself, I felt OK. My side hurt. I tried in vain to right my bike, which was now lying on its left side facing the opposite direction in which I had been traveling. James came flying up on his bike and saw me standing next to my crumpled motorcycle and made sure I was OK as did Ken who was just a second or two behind. I replied that I was OK, I removed my riding gloves and said,"no, I’m not OK I broke my %&^$ finger". At that point I looked around at the trees I almost hit, the bike that could easily have landed on me somewhat in shock that I hadn’t been more severely injured or worse.

James and I righted my Nomad and made an attempt to start it. I was in luck, the bike fired immediately. I rode it a few feet to a clearing just off the opposite side of the road to look the wreck over. The headlight was shattered and crumpled, the windshield was horribly scratched and bent back toward the rear of the bike, the left mirror was sheered off and the handle bars felt just a little bit tweaked and pretty much everything on the left side of the bike was either scratched, bent or both. After a review of the damage and myself we decided that we should head back to the Hotel to figure out our next course of action.

I was furious with myself for my allowing myself to crash my formerly beautiful Nomad and putting the dampers on what had been, with the exception of the weather, a delightful trip. Surprisingly, for having met the dirt at least 45mph my bike seemed to be performing reasonably well on them trip back to Houghton.

At the hotel I decided that my pride had suffered the worst of the injuries and that I would recovered from the large bruise on my side and that if I had my finger splinted that I would not be able to perform functions such as operating a clutch that would be necessary to get my wreck home. An exam of my protective gear showed that I had trashed my helmet, leather jacket, and boots. Better them than me I thought, and they would function to get me home.

I decided that the bent and scratched windshield would be more of a hindrance for the ride home than help, so I removed it in the Hotel parking lot and deposited it into the nearest garbage can. Ken took off to meet his daughter for dinner and James and I decided that a short ride into town for a bite wasn’t a bad idea. The Nomad felt different without the windshield but still seemed to ride OK. Over dinner we talked a bit about the events of the day and tried to relax a bit.

After some discussion we decided that their wasn’t any reason why we couldn’t continue our exploration of the Kewanaw and that we would proceed as scheduled. The day included the obligatory photo op at the Gay Bar (in Gay, MI) where we discovered that if you photographed the Nomad from the right rear perspective you would never know it was wrecked! We also spend some time exploring the ruins of a near by manufacturing facility that was little more than a foundation.

The majority of the day was spent mapping out the peninsula, enjoying the scenery, looking for new roads to traverse and making one last pass along M26 to review the "scene of the accident". Then the time came to say good-bye to the peninsula and point our rides towards Ishpeming where we would be spending the evening. A quick diversion to "Yooper Land" where we were exposed to "UP" exclusives such as the yooper "two hole’er" out-house and snow mobile graveyard was ummm… memorable.

Dinner at the local brewpub and another examination of the weather channel was on the ticket for the evening. The food was certainly better than the forecast where we learned that a cold wet ride home was a virtual certainty.

We rose early the next morning in preparation for the long ride from Ishpeming to Grand Rapids for Ken and I and Kalamazoo for James. The weather forecast unfortunately did not disappoint us as we found rain the dominant feature of the morning’s weather. Riding in the dark on a bike with no functioning headlight also presented an interesting obstacle. We decided that a formation of Ken, myself, and James in the rear would cover the lighting situation as best as we could.

The ride between Ishpeming and Christmas along Rt. 28 was miserable at best. The wind was blowing off Lake Superior so hard that it appeared to be raining sideways. We also had to make frequent stops to warm up to avoid hypothermia. Once we turned south on Rt. 77 conditions improved somewhat but mostly because we were distancing ourselves from Lake Superior. We stopped for breakfast, warmth and another vain attempt to dry out at the diner in Naubinway that we had visited a few days before. With the wind seemingly picking up our concern was growing that the Mackinaw Bridge would be closed.

We made our way to St. Igance, stopped again for Coffee and a quick warm up. We found that for the first time today, luck was in our favor and the bridge was still open. After the bridge crossing the rain and the cold was really starting to get old. To make matters worse traffic was picking up and with that visibility was going down because of all the spray off the tires of the cars on the road. It was a long, cold, wet, slow dreary ride between Gaylord and Harrison with a few stops along the way for fuel and Coffee.

Things got worse as we passed through Claire on U.S. 27. Making a pass to get around slower traffic I felt the rear of my bike slide out from under me during a lane change. I recovered quickly but needless to say was shaken up. I jumped ahead of the group to take them through a short cut I knew around Mt. Pleasant. As we cruised through Rose Bush on old mission road I felt my bike getting greasy again. We stopped in Mt. Pleasant for fuel and I started looking my bike over for the cause of my traction problems. I discovered that I must have had only 1450 miles of life left on my rear tire when we left Grand Rapids four days earlier. We were now about to cross the 1500 mile threshold.

We rode out M-20 towards M-46 where things started getting really dicey. Now my bike was sliding all over the road and I was getting really nervous. We slowed our speed to about 50-55 mph for the rest of the ride home. A move that made our long tiring ride home even more frustrating by dragging the last leg out much longer than it needed to be.

All in all the trip was outstanding despite the obstacles that I personally experienced and was forced to subject my riding mates to. I was very thankful for their patience with my struggles on this trip. I think I could have lived without the rain, the cold and obviously the crash and worn rear tire but I learned a lot about myself and my riding ability, or in some cases lack their of. I wanted an adventure and an adventure I got. Next time, I’ll have waterproof boots, and a smaller bike!