Originally built more than a century ago, Seven Bridges Road parallels and crosses Amity Creek, which cascades down a series of waterfalls for 400 vertical feet. This road was a highlight of this Minnesota motorcycle ride.
A couple summers ago, I flew to Minneapolis for a CFMOTO press launch and to visit our parent company’s home office. When CFMOTO gave me the key to a 650 ADVentura and let me loose for a day, I made a beeline north to Duluth to pay a visit to my friend Andy Goldfine and tour the Aerostich factory and store.
It was a hot, muggy morning when I left the hotel in a northern suburb of Minneapolis and made my way to Interstate 35. The 160-mile ride to Duluth took a little over two hours, and along the way, being in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, I passed countless billboards for fishing boats, fishing lakes, fish camps, and marinas. I also caught the edges of two rainstorms, which cooled me off in my mesh jacket and riding jeans. But as I-35 descended a steep hill toward downtown Duluth, the temperature dropped into the mid‑50s due to the cooling effect of Lake Superior. By the time I pulled into Aerostich’s parking lot, my teeth were chattering.
Skyline Parkway provides unparalleled views of downtown Duluth and Lake Superior.
Andy Goldfine has visited the Rider offices several times over the years, but I’d never been to the Aerostich factory before, so to get a personal tour by none other than Mr. Subjective himself was a real honor. After seeing the factory, Andy gave me the nickel tour of Duluth, and we had lunch at a cozy Italian eatery called Va Bene, where I warmed up with meatball soup and coffee.
Before we parted, Andy took pity on me for being cold and gave me an Aerostich waterproof/windproof innershell to wear under my mesh jacket. He also suggested I check out Skyline Parkway, a scenic byway that runs several hundred feet above downtown Duluth and provides excellent views of the city and Lake Superior.
The series of stone arch bridges along Seven Bridges Road are a delight to behold.
I rode north along the lakeshore to Lester Park, where the Parkway begins on Occidental Boulevard as it goes due north along Amity Creek, ascending 400 feet as it follows and crosses a long cascade of waterfalls. In less than half a mile, the road crosses the creek, and its name becomes Seven Bridges Road. (The Steve Young song “Seven Bridges Road,” which was later covered by the Eagles and Dolly Parton, is about a street in Montgomery, Alabama.) Incidentally, the first bridge on Seven Bridges Road isn’t one of the eponymous seven; it’s designated “Bridge 0.”
Originally built more than a century ago, Seven Bridges Road parallels and crosses Amity Creek, which cascades down a series of waterfalls for 400 vertical feet.
Construction of Skyline Parkway began in 1889 along a plateau that was once the gravel shoreline of an ancient glacial lake that predates Lake Superior. Ten years later, a local land developer named Samuel F. Snively began construction of Seven Bridges Road. The original bridges were built in the early 1900s, but nearly all have been rebuilt in the past few decades, and each of the stone arch bridges is a work of civil engineering art.
The northern part of Skyline Parkway is a gravel road that passes through the Hawk Ridge Nature Reserve. The wooden platform behind the sign is a bird observatory.
At the end of Seven Bridges Road, the Parkway takes a sharp left and turns to gravel as it enters the Hawk Ridge Nature Reserve. Several hiking trails branch off from the road, and the Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory is a popular place to watch raptor migrations.
The Parkway turns to pavement again as it meanders through a residential area. Riders must stay vigilant for the Parkway signs since several turns are required to stay on course. After crossing Chester Creek, the Parkway continues to wind through neighborhoods. Soon the houses on the lakeside of the road disappear, and riders are treated to expansive views of Lake Superior, downtown Duluth, and just across Saint Louis Bay, the neighboring city of Superior, Wisconsin.
The Hawk Ridge Nature Reserve is a wooded area crisscrossed with trails.
After passing Twin Ponds, Skyline Parkway runs along the edge of a golf course, goes over U.S. Route 53, and crosses several creeks before passing through wooded parkland. The scenery and views are pleasant the entire way. I jumped off the Parkway when it crossed I-35 to get back to Minneapolis, but it continues on the south side of the freeway, winding through the Magney‑Snively Natural Area before ending at Becks Road.
Overlooking downtown Duluth, the harbor, and – in the distance – Superior, Wisconsin.
If you plan to visit the Aerostich factory or will pass through Duluth during a Lake Superior Circle Tour or other Minnesota motorcycle ride, I highly recommend adding Skyline Parkway to your itinerary. Due to the icy winters in Duluth, parts of the Skyline Parkway are closed seasonally, so plan accordingly.
This Southern Minnesota motorcycle ride included an early morning stop at Church Hill Overlook on the Root River with a great view of the Lanesboro Stone Dam, constructed in 1868 with unmortared limestone blocks. (Photos by the author and Chad Cochran.)
Motorcyclists living in Minnesota experience long winters with plenty of time to think about roads we want to ride. It’s a sweet feeling when spring arrives and the bikes come out of hibernation.
My son, Chad, feels the same way. We kicked off the riding season with an overnight Minnesota motorcycle ride down the Great River Road (U.S. Route 61) on the western bank of the Mississippi River, through what is often referred to as Bluff Country. The area’s complex hilly terrain has been carved out over eons by the Mississippi and other waterways large and small.
Minnesota’s Great River Road is a popular motorcycle route that offers epic beauty and a chance to visit towns along one of America’s most vital corridors of commerce. Starting in April with the annual “Flood Run” charity ride, thousands of riders thunder up and down these roads and frequent the many small-town bars and restaurants along the way. I’ve been on many of these roads before, and I love riding old favorites and exploring new side routes.
We left the Twin Cities early on a Saturday morning to beat traffic, and our first stop on this Minnesota motorcycle ride was the town of Hastings, which serves as a gateway to Bluff Country. The Hastings Riverwalk is a relatively new paved trail that connects to a 10-mile walking and biking loop along the Mississippi and Vermillion rivers. You can’t miss the towering Hastings Bridge, various sculptures along the waterfront, and the original footings of the Spiral Bridge, which was built in 1895 and dismantled in 1951.
The Hastings Riverwalk, with great views of bridges, boats, and scenery along the Mississippi, is a great place to stop.
East of Hastings, we continued south on the Ravenna Trail, one of the great lesser-traveled roads that tracks closely to the Mississippi River. We took the trail to the Prairie Island Indian Reservation and Treasure Island Casino, which boasts a 788-room hotel and Vegas-style casino attracting top entertainers. Resisting the temptation for easy money, we pushed on to rejoin U.S. 61.
Our next stop was Red Wing, a town established in the 1850s to support steamboats moving up the Mississippi River toward vast available farmland. By 1873, Red Wing was a leading wheat producer, but it was eventually surpassed by Minneapolis where larger flour mills were built. Today the town is perhaps best known as the home of legendary boot maker Red Wing Shoes. The downtown St. James Hotel was founded in 1875 and has hosted U.S. presidents, Mark Twain, and other luminaries. Downhill from the hotel is the historic train station, which has old wooden benches and period signage on the walls. I could sit there all day watching the river roll by.
Continuing south, we visited Lake City, which sits on a wide stretch of the Mississippi called Lake Pepin, the birthplace of waterskiing. The lake was once a water highway used by Native Americans, and there are burial mounds and settlement ruins located nearby. Today, you’ll see raw materials being moved in barges and recreationists enjoying themselves in sailboats and ski boats.
Towering above both sides of Lake Pepin are distinctive limestone bluffs and tree-covered rock formations. With such unique scenery, it’s a challenge to keep your eyes on the road ahead. One minute you are feeling the heat from the tarmac and gazing up at high bluffs, and the next you’re ripping through dense maple forests enjoying the cool air and earthy smells. For golf lovers, the Lake Pepin Golf Course has 12 holes laid out atop the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi River Valley.
The bustling river town of Red Wing has many historic buildings, including the St. James Hotel, the old iron works, and the train station.
We arrived at the next small town on our route, Reads Landing, just in time for lunch. This was once considered as a potential capital city for Minnesota due to its booming lumber trade and strategic location on the Mississippi and Chippewa rivers. Reads Landing Brewing Company occupies an old red-brick building with an outdoor patio overlooking the river. It has a full menu and was a great place to cool off and relax.
Adding to the Great River Road’s natural beauty is an abundance of birds soaring overhead. The National Eagle Center in Wabasha houses permanently injured bald eagles and provides an opportunity for people to see these majestic creatures up close.
Lake Pepin has beautiful scenery and recreational opportunities, and it was the birthplace of water skiing.
As we continued south, we approached Winona, a vibrant college town that’s home to the Minnesota Marine Art Museum, which is located right on the river and exhibits artwork inspired by water. With a variety of dining and lodging options, recreational opportunities, live music, festivals, and shopping, Winona is a great destination for an overnight stay or weekend getaway.
Southeast of Winona, on County Road 7, is Pickwick Mill, one of the oldest flour mills in Minnesota, built in the mid-1850s. The mill was named by the area’s first postmaster, who was a fan of Charles Dickens and his novel The Pickwick Papers. During the Civil War, it produced 100 barrels of flour per day for the Union army.
After returning to U.S. 61 and riding along the Mississippi to La Crescent, we turned west on the Historic Bluff Country National Scenic Byway (State Route 16). Even away from the river, bluff topography continues with hills and cliffs creating the winding roads we all live for. Through the towns of Hokah, Houston, and Rushford, we paralleled the Root River and the Root River State Trail, a rails-to-trails bike path linking the towns of Houston and Fountain.
After nearly 50 miles on the byway, we arrived in Lanesboro, an art, entertainment, and recreational hub where we spent the night. We stayed at the historic Hotel Lanesboro, which was built in 1872 from local limestone and is on the National Registry of Historic Places. Formerly a boarding house called Mrs. B’s, it once hosted Buffalo Bill and Doc Powell. The hotel is right on the main street with many good restaurants nearby. We had a tasty dinner at the Pedal Pushers Cafe, a nod to the many bicyclists who ride the state trail.
Overlooking Lake Pepin on the Mississippi River, one of many scenic stops on this southern Minnesota motorcycle ride.
My Harley is much louder than Chad’s Royal Enfield, and I felt guilty breaking the morning silence as we headed to the towns of Preston and Harmony. This area is Amish country, and it wasn’t long before we saw our first horse and buggy. Friendly and always good for a wave, the Amish are an interesting subculture. There are about 1,000 Amish in Harmony, and you can take tours to learn more about their way of life and visit shops with baked goods, furniture, and more.
Seeing a horse with buggy tied up at a local convenience store, I pulled a quick turn to stop and take a picture. Soon two young ladies with bonnets saw me as I attempted to pocket my phone, not wanting to look like a gawking tourist. They wished me a good morning as they untied their horse and climbed aboard to clip-clop down the road.
Harmony is also home to Niagara Cave, where you can take a tour 200 feet below the surface. It’s well worth it for this mile-long underground hike to see the various rock formations and even a subterranean wedding chapel.
We continued south on U.S. Route 52 to Prosper, a stone’s throw from Iowa, where we headed east and then north on State Route 44 to Caledonia, picking up State Route 76, which has twisties so enjoyable that we rode some sections twice. SR-76 took us north most of the way back to Winona, where we backtracked north on U.S. 61 to Wabasha. We then turned west on State Route 60 and joined a pack of bikers thundering in the same direction. Alongside the road is a lone sentinel, a skeleton biker that’s a reminder to keep the rubber side down.
The Historic Bluff Country National Scenic Byway (State Route 16) parallels the Root River and goes through small towns on its way from La Crescent to Lanesboro.
As we left the river and Bluff Country behind, the terrain flattened out as we made our way to Zumbrota, home of Minnesota’s last remaining functional covered bridge. Spanning the Zumbro River, the 116-feet-long, 15-feet-wide bridge was built in 1869 and looks like a long, red barn.
We rode northwest to Northfield, where in 1876, Jesse James and the James-Younger gang rode into town to rob the First National Bank. Facing pistols, the bank clerk refused to open the safe and was shot to death. Townsfolk retaliated, resulting in a shootout that killed another resident and a couple of gang members. The gang was pursued for 400 miles over the following weeks, eventually being captured in Madelia, Minnesota. Jesse James escaped, but his luck ran out when he was killed in 1882 by one of his own men hoping to collect a $10,000 reward.
We rode west to Henderson, which sits along the Minnesota River Valley National Scenic Byway, another favorite road. Henderson is an old river town with a historic downtown district that’s a fun place to visit.
Our Minnesota motorcycle ride through Bluff Country and along the Great River Road and other scenic byways gave us a taste of the history, beauty, and variety of southern Minnesota. The roads showcase some of the best riding, relaxing, and motorcycle-friendly places the state has to offer.
Chad and Chuck park the bikes in front of the Rainy Lake mural, which graces an old brick building in downtown International Falls.
Most of us love the feeling of anticipation leading up to a multiday motorcycle trip. This particular Minnesota motorcycle ride one was more memorable than most because my son, Chad, was able to join me on a trip that would take us north from Minneapolis to the Canadian border at International Falls. We had three days for the ride and only a loose plan. We had a direction, and we knew we wanted to check out some towns that were new to us, but otherwise we’d make it up as we went along.
We were mounted on our Harleys – I was on my 2017 Street Glide Special, and Chad was on his 2011 Softail Blackline – and we were evaluating some new gear: Highway 21 gloves and boots for me and a sissy bar-mounted backpack and Shinko White Wall SR777 tires for Chad’s Blackline (see Chad’s Shinko White Wall SR777 Tires review).
Starting the Minnesota Motorcycle Ride: Rain and Runic Artifacts
A Classic Minnesota welcome sign in International Falls.
As we pushed off on our mid-August ride, the skies were unsettled. A check of the weather showed we might be able to avoid some rain by heading west for a while before heading north to our first destination, the town of Alexandria. By following my Harley’s navigation system, we took a backroads route to get there, but our slower pace meant we didn’t outrun the rain entirely. After a few missed turns, Chad gave me “the look” – what we call the Head Wag of Shame – but we were out to ride, and we were riding!
We caught this photo in Ranier with these two friendly longtime residents and parade watchers.
Alexandria, which is nestled between lakes with names like Darling, Victoria, Geneva, Latoka, and Le Homme Dieu, has resorts and activities that make it a popular destination for tourists year-round – and full-time residents too, since the town is one of the fastest growing areas in the west-central part of Minnesota. The town was named after Alexander Kinkead, who established the first townsite in 1858 along the stagecoach road. A Viking artifact from 1362 was unearthed in 1898 in the nearby town of Kensington and is exhibited in Alexandria at the Runestone Museum.
The Kensington Runestone was unearthed in 1898 and dates back to 1362, providing evidence that Vikings visited America long before Columbus. (Photo by Mauricio Valle via Wikimedia Commons)
Just a runestone’s throw from the museum, towering over Broadway and 2nd, is Big Ole, a 28-foot-tall Viking statue originally built for the 1964-65 World’s Fair in New York City. This was the first stop on our ride, and we were already surprised by what we were seeing. That’s what I love about motorcycle travel: encountering – and enjoying – the unexpected.
The 28-foot-tall Viking statue Big Ole towers over downtown Alexandria. (Photo by gdbrekke – stock.adobe.com)
From Alexandria, we followed State Highway 29 – part of the Viking Trail – north through towns such as Miltona, Parkers Prairie, and Deer Creek to Wadena. We continued on U.S. Route 71 to Park Rapids, a town in the Heartland Lakes Region. The Heartland State Trail, a multiuse paved recreational trail that was one of the first “rails to trails” projects in the U.S., runs for 49 miles from Park Rapids to Cass Lake. Park Rapids is also a popular destination for camping and fishing, and there are many seasonal cabins nearby.
Rolling grassland along the Rainy River, which separates the U.S. and Canada.
Another 20 miles north of Park Rapids on U.S. 71 is Itasca State Park, Minnesota’s oldest state park, which was established in 1891. There are more than 100 lakes within the 32,000-acre park, and its most famous feature is the headwaters of the Mississippi River. For anyone visiting the park, the headwaters area is a must-see, and it has a visitor center with educational exhibits and a cafe.
Walking down the trail toward the official headwaters, you can wade across the foot-deep babbling trickle that has an average flow rate of just 6 cubic feet per second. After draining much of the U.S. between the Appalachians and the Rockies over the course of 2,552 miles, the Mississippi River ultimately discharges more than 593,000 cubic feet of water per second into the Gulf of Mexico.
It’s just a short hike to the headwaters post marking the origin of the Mississippi River.
Itasca Park is also the northern terminus of the Great River Road, which runs the length of the Mississippi River for more than 3,000 miles through 10 states. It’s an epic journey that I did with a few buddies in 2021.
On the way out of the park, we hopped on a 10-mile one-way road called Wilderness Drive, a scenic road that winds through woods and meadows and passes by several lakes. Our relaxed approach to discovering the area was paying off, but we couldn’t help feeling a little guilty as we thundered past the occasional cyclist or hiker on our rumbling V-Twins.
The end of the Great River Road if you began in New Orleans.
From Bemidji to the Border
We ended our first day’s ride in Bemidji, where we stayed at a hotel right on the shores of Lake Bemidji, the northernmost lake feeding the Mississippi River. I stayed in Bemidji at the start of my Great River Road run, and it was good to be back in such a fun town. By this time, we had a couple hundred miles under us and were a bit cold and soggy.
Chad and Chuck in Bemidji with Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox.
Bemidji, a name derived from an Ojibwe expression, Buh-mid-ji-ga-maug, meaning “a lake with crossing waters,” is known as the “First City on the Mississippi.” It is also the curling capital of the U.S. and the alleged birthplace of Paul Bunyan. After the wilderness of Itasca State Park, the city of 15,000 felt like a modern metropolis. Bemidji is also home to Bemidji State University, and students were moving in during the weekend we were there. Lots of loud co-eds and tired-looking parents. We were ready to get back on the road and away from the crowds.
The Rainy River separates the U.S. from Canada.
With the hotel’s complimentary breakfast under our belts and a blue sky above our heads, we followed a northeastern trajectory on U.S. 71, known in Minnesota as the Voyageur Highway, passing through towns like Blackduck, Northome, Big Falls, and Littlefork. In Pelland, the road makes a sharp turn to the east as it follows the southern shore of the Rainy River, which serves as the border between the U.S. and Canada. Voyageur Highway, though fairly straight and flat, was in good condition, and we enjoyed the rolling fields with farmhouses and barns.
Although Chad is a Minnesota native and I’ve lived in the state for more than 30 years, neither of us had been to International Falls, a city known as the “Icebox of the Nation,” with an average of 109 days per year with a high temperature below freezing.
A border information building.
International Falls has a border crossing to Canada – on the other side of the river is Fort Frances, Ontario – and it serves as the gateway to Voyageurs National Park, which is situated on the southern side of the 360-square-mile Rainy Lake. It’s also home to Smokey the Bear Park, where there’s a 26-foot statue of America’s favorite forest advocate made by fiberglass sculptor Gordon Schumaker, who also made Big Ole.
Some friendly advice from Smokey the Bear.
After checking out the long lines of cars waiting to cross into Canada, we were ready for lunch. An online search led us to the small neighboring town of Ranier and the Cantilever Distillery. Sitting outside in the sun with great food and service really hit the spot. While eating, we began seeing men in kilts, some toting bagpipes. Little did we know it, but the annual Ranier Days parade was about to begin.
In the town of Ranier, we had a great lunch at the Cantilever Distillery overlooking the Ranier Days parade route.
On a beautiful summer afternoon, the people-watching was great, and it was heartwarming to see the enthusiasm and community spirit that still thrives in small-town America. Evidence of this being a close-knit community was obvious with neighbors greeting neighbors. We struck up a conversation with some longtime residents who were surprised we had never been there before and encouraged us to make it a regular stop.
A pre-parade bagpiper meeting.
After the parade, we took a stroll down to the lakefront to check out one of the dockside light towers. Put in operation in the 1940s, towers like this provided needed navigational assistance on this international waterway.
Back on the bikes, we returned through International Falls with the goal of following the Rainy River west through Baudette up to Warroad. From State Highway 11, Canada was almost always in sight to our right. In Baudette, we were greeted by the giant Willie Walleye statue and a sign proclaiming the town the “Walleye Capital of the World.”
Willie Walleye greets those entering the town of Baudette, the “Walleye Capital of the World.”
Somewhere along the 40 miles from Baudette to Warroad, which breaks away from the Rainy River, Chad thought I had lost my marbles because I kept stopping to wander into fields of sunflowers that were more than 6 feet tall. My son is very patient, and eventually I got my fill of the flower forests. Warroad, a small town of 1,900 residents on the western shore of Lake of the Woods, is known as “Hockeytown USA” since it is the hometown of several Olympic, NHL, and collegiate hockey players, and the Warroad Lakers have won several boys and girls state championships.
From Warroad, you can take a side trip to the northernmost road in the lower 48 states in a place called Angle Inlet. However, to get there, you must ride north on State Highway 313 and cross into Canada, so be ready to show a passport or other form of approved border-crossing identification. You then need to cross back into the U.S. to reach Angle Inlet, and then back into Canada to return to the U.S. Not including the time it takes to pass through border security twice in both directions, the route is a 2.5-hour roundtrip. We didn’t have the time to do it on this trip, but we plan to go back next summer.
Old navigation tower on Rainy Lake.
Another Lake of the Woods adventure that’s on our radar for next summer is charter fishing. Rods, reels, bait, tackle, and a licensed charter captain provide everything that’s needed for a fun, relaxing fishing trip, so all we’ll have to do is drop our kickstands and climb aboard.
For our return ride to Bemidji, my navigation system routed us onto a couple of roads where the pavement ended, and we had to backtrack to tarmac, eliciting a few more Head Wags of Shame from Chad. Eventually we connected with State Highway 1, which runs along the southern shore of Red Lake, the largest lake in Minnesota, and through part of the Red Lake Reservation, home of the Red Lake Band of Chippewa. The road around the lake is beautiful, and we welcomed the cooler air. We were greeted with a couple of friendly waves as we thundered past various homes along the route. Rounding the bend on the southern shore, State Highway 89 returned us to Bemidji.
We wanted to take an interesting route back to Minneapolis, so we followed a different part of the Voyageur Highway: U.S. Route 2 south of Bemidji and over to Cass Lake. Continuing east on U.S. Route 2 would have taken us through the Leech Lake Reservation and over to Grand Rapids, another cool, motorcycle-friendly Northern Minnesota town with breweries, wine bars, and all sorts of recreational activities. The town’s website provides route info for seven scenic rides featuring rolling hills, sparkling lakes, and deep woods.
Sunflower fields line Highway 11 along the border with Canada.
But our long weekend was running short, so we continued south on State Highway 371 through an area that is quintessential Minnesota – a recreational paradise of lakes and lakeside cabins, some of which would qualify as mansions. Down around Nisswa, we stopped for lunch and a cold one at Big Axe Brewing.
Big Axe Brewing in Nisswa – a welcome cooling off spot on a hot summer day.
This town holds special meaning for Chad and me. Our family has spent many Fourth of July holidays there fishing on Gull Lake, playing golf, and staying at Grandview Lodge. In Little Falls, we picked up U.S. Route 10 – still part of Voyageur Highway – and rode through Royalton, Sauk Rapids, and Becker. The trip home reinforced what I love about living in Minnesota. Our license plates boast “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” but the true figure is 14,380, and they all showcase the beauty of the great outdoors. From the friendliness of the people to the interesting history and boundless recreational opportunities, Northern Minnesota has something for everyone.
Skyline Parkway Scenic Byway provides stunning views of downtown Duluth and Lake Superior. Photo by Alyssa Hei.
Minnesota, the Land of 10,000 Lakes, is ranked 12th among U.S. states in terms of land area but 9th in terms of water within its borders. This favorite ride visits the largest – Lake Superior – and others in a 200-mile loop that starts and ends in Duluth and has Ely at its northernmost point.
This simple day ride has evolved. I’ve ridden it at least once a summer for more than 30 years, starting with a 1978 BMW R100, then a 1981 BMW R80GS, and currently a 2007 BMWR1200R. Just as those bikes have changed, so has the road.
It’s not my favorite ride, either. I don’t have a favorite ride, other than the next one. This is because every time I ride, I feel noticeably better. For me, there is nothing like the calming, clarifying effect of self-directed motion, and riding a motorcycle might be the richest delivery system for obtaining this benefit ever devised. So, commute riding to work, or around this loop, it’s all the same. Every ride is my favorite ride.
Located at Two Harbors, Split Rock Lighthouse opened in 1909 and sits on a 130-foot cliff overlooking Lake Superior. Photo by Paul Vincent.
Starting from Duluth, at Canal Park, proceed along the North Shore of Lake Superior on State Route 61 to Two Harbors. Turn left and start riding due north on County Road 2. (Alternatively, you can ride farther up the shore, and a few miles past Silver Bay you’ll come to Illgen City, which isn’t actually a city, or even a town or village. It’s just a T-intersection where State Route 1 begins. There you turn left.)
The largest of the Great Lakes, Lake Superior covers nearly 32,000 square miles. Riding along its North Shore is a highlight of this route.
The ride is fairly flat along the North Shore, but it climbs as it heads inland, and soon you are surrounded by a second-generation forest of Norway pine, white birch, alder, and spruce. It’s as remote and empty-feeling a forest landscape as you’ll find anywhere in Alaska, Canada, or Siberia.
After heading north for 46 miles, County Road 2 dead-ends at Route 1. Hang a left toward Ely. Wildlife you might encounter includes white-tailed deer, moose, timber wolves, black bears, beavers, racoons, squirrels, loons, blackbirds, bald eagles, and a variety of ducks, geese, grouse, and partridge. Human encounters will be loggers driving big trucks, fishermen carrying rooftop canoes, occasional lumbering motorhomes, and a few Subaru-driving campers and hikers. There’s also a thin smattering of settlers and a couple little roadhouse bars.
After turning north at Two Harbors, this route enters a vast, empty part of northeastern Minnesota, passing by a few of the state’s 10,000 lakes. County Road 2 is mostly straight, but State Route 1 winds its way gracefully through dense forest that’s home to plenty of wildlife but few people. Keep your wits about you and be prepared for emergencies, because it’s a remote area without many services.
This old Route 1 has evolved. Back in the 1980s, its asphalt surface was shoulderless, rough, narrow, and already worn out, with plenty of tight 15-25 mph banked and closely linked corners which were fun to try at 30-45 mph. It was like a bumpier, frost-damaged version of the Tail of the Dragon, with enough kinks, tight corners, and expansion heaves to make any hard-ridden bike’s shocks and tires a little warm. Back then, this road was so tight, and for such long stretches, it was a great training area for young riders wanting to improve their skills. The mature forest whizzed by only a few feet from your elbows and knees, greatly adding to the sensation of speed. Boy, was it ever fun. No time to lollygag by looking into narrow clearings flashing by, or across the numerous small lakes, streams, and ponds, hoping to spot exotic wildlife. Nope, I’ve never seen a single moose up there, or a wolf, yet that is where a bunch of them are known to live. Eyes on the road.
Photo by Alyssa Hei
Not much of that fun old stretch of highway remains today. Most of it has been improved and widened to modern standards for the convenience and safety of loggers, fisherman, tourists, and locals. It’s still all scenic and curvy, but now it’s dozens of smoothly linked, higher-speed sweepers, and most of the sides include nice shoulders with decent runoffs. Those unyielding rocks and trees of the primordial forest are now at least 10 to 12 feet away from your elbows. Thanks, MnDOT. Well done. You’ve transformed a hillbilly hooligan-rider’s haven into a delightful sport-touring and touring rider’s experience.
Throughout downtown Ely are 19 different murals, including “The End of An Era,” which celebrates the town’s mining history.
The apogee of this loop is the city of Ely, famous partly for mining but mostly as a jump-off point for canoe trippers wanting to paddle the endless lakes and rivers of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness and explore Voyageurs National Park. With a little portaging here and there, you can just about paddle all the way to the Rockies, and in the 1700s lots of hard men did just that to trade with the natives for beaver pelts, which were in great fashion-demand across Europe then.
Ely is a charming little town on the edge of Minnesota’s vast Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.
You can purchase locally handmade moose-hide mukluks, choppers, custom canoe paddles, and all kinds of gallery artwork and camping gear in Ely, so allow some walkabout time. There’s also a park, a theater, camping, motels, and cottages if you are inclined to linger overnight. Delicious sit-down meals are offered at several nice joints. You can choose from two brands of gasoline and even buy the no-ethanol premium most older bikes like best. The vibe is Western ski town without mountains, just an endless, roadless wilderness of lakes and forests as far as you can dream. Or paddle.
Built in the early 1900s, the Duluth Aerial Lift Bridge connects the city of Duluth with Minnesota Point on the southern shore of Lake Superior. Photo by Alyssa Hei.
To get back to Duluth, ride west through Ely on Route 1, turn left (south) on S. Central Avenue (County Road 21), and ride about 30 miles to the town of Embarrass. Just to the west, turn south again on State Route 135. Follow signs for Aurora via CSAH (County State Aid Highway) 100, and continue to County Road 4, known as the Vermilion Trail, which was first cut as an overland pack-horse wagon trail into this canoe country. At intervals are several worn little iron-mining towns, a scattering of hardscrabble survival settlers, and a few more always-welcoming taverns. Before you know it, you’re back in the mini metropolis of Duluth.
The number of double-track dirt roads in the Great Lakes area is countless, tempting travelers off the snaky paved highways with their promise of adventure. (Photos by the author)
I arrive in Duluth, Minnesota, in the middle of the night, welcomed by a cleansing wind blowing off Lake Superior, the largest of the Great Lakes. The West had been ablaze for weeks when I’d departed California two days before, and smoke from those massive fires had gathered, unasked, across the Plains to form a thick, murky blanket. My eyes and throat are still burning as I hobble, ass whipped, from my BMW R 1200 GS to my waiting hotel room.
I’ve just started on a 6-week ride and my first official stop is a visit to the Aerostich factory to catch up with my old friend, Andy Goldfine. Andy and I go back to the mid-80s when we were starting in the motorcycle industry, him as the founder of Aerostich and me as an associate editor at Rider. I zipped up my first Roadcrafter the day we met and have since appreciated no gear – or friendship in the business – more.
A meet-up with Aerostich founder Andy Goldfine and his riding buddy, John Grinsel.
Duluth has always charmed me with its terraced streets and historic port town vibe. Spending a day off the bike here is a joy. I’m able to hang out at Aerostich and watch as suits are cut and stitched. Some would call this a factory, but it’s much more like a workshop where skilled technicians craft riding apparel.
After enjoying a classic biker breakfast the next morning at the Duluth Grill with Andy and his “most curmudgeonly riding friend” John Grinsel, an 80-something-year-old character who rides up to 20,000 miles each year with a pipe in his mouth and a tiny pup named Moose poking out of his top box, I’m back in the saddle of the GS heading north around the edge of the world’s largest freshwater lake.
We’ve all seen the occasional pup as co-pilot, but none as adorable as John Grinsel’s 3-lb dog, Moose, who pops his head out of a modified Givi top case when he wants to check out the view.
The Greatest Lake
Behaving more like an inland sea than a lake, Superior is massive, holding 10% of the world’s fresh surface water. It and the other Great Lakes to the east are so dynamic they create their own weather patterns. Today, I’m riding through a Scotch mist I’m not sure I can blame on the lake, and it’s giving my finger squeegee a workout.
I’m riding a loaner R 1200 GS Rallye edition I’ve had for seven months. I’ll never get enough of the GS bikes, and over three decades I’ve used them to explore five continents. Having been one of BMW’s flagship models for four decades, the “big” GS was legitimately the first travel bike to be truly versatile, but what I find most endearing is the way the chatty boxer Twin feels like an old friend every time I fire one up. It’s a pleasant bike to ride anywhere, including roads like Minnesota’s super scenic State Route 61 along the North Shore.
If there’s one thing that’s undeniable about these Midwestern states, especially their more rural areas, it’s how genuinely nice the people are. Everywhere you go.
By the time I reach Grand Marais, it’s clearly storming hard to the north, and I retreat back down the highway, ducking into the famous Betty’s Pies for a slice and a coffee. I love this place, and if I weren’t on a bike, in the rain, I’d take an entire 5 Layer Chocolate Cream Pie to go.
I ate my slice of 5 Layer Chocolate Cream Pie so fast Betty’s Pies had to send me a photo.
Early the next morning, the sun is out and I’m in Wisconsin exploring the bottom edge of Superior. While I’d traveled to the top of the lake a few years back, the southern section was a mystery. I throttle the GS up Wisconsin’s Lake Superior Scenic Byway, State Route 13, connecting fishing villages to waterfalls to sandy beaches and orchards.
Exploring Northern Michigan on the venerable R 1200 GS was a delight. The people, the scenery, the roads, but also the intriguing history of spots like the town of Ironwood and the famous Leg’s Inn, which waits at the top of M-119, aka the Tunnel of Trees.
The Road to Pictured Rocks
I want to shoot up Michigan’s Keweenaw Peninsula to Copper Harbor on U.S. Route 41, and not just because the road looks amazing on the map. I’ve heard there are monks who bake delicious treats and sell preserves they make from local fruit at The Jampot bakery. But I’m short on time and even shorter on tires. The Continental TKC80s I opted for seven months back now have more than 6,500 miles on them and my replacements are waiting at a dealership 700 miles away, which means limiting side trips.
The pristine beaches near Michigan’s Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore were empty and an ideal rest stop.
So, I head from Ashland, Wisconsin, straight for Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore on the recommendation to ride County Road H-58. And wow, what a sweet road. I hear it was even more fun to ride before it was fully paved in 2010, but today the 69 miles of smooth shaded corners and flowing undulations ride like a song. And for the other senses? The beautiful lake up here is edged by colorful sandstone cliffs and unspoiled sandy coves.
When you’re on an adventure bike, another thing to love about Michigan is its more than 3,100 miles of off-road vehicle trails, proudly documented and promoted on the state government’s website, and on Pure Michigan, a site sponsored by Michigan’s lead economic development agency. How civilized for these Midwestern states to celebrate their off-roading opportunities instead of quashing them.
But you hardly need a map to find a tempting two-track here, which is the reason I’m not making good time on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, but finally I’m at the famous Mackinac Bridge, gearing up to ride its five swaying miles to the Lower Peninsula. Yup, Big Mac is one of the longest suspension bridges in the world and it’s built to swing (apparently, up to 35 feet at its center span), and on a windy day, you can feel it, as I did when I crossed it years back on a Harley Ultra Glide Classic.
The Old Post Office Museum encapsulates the history of Grand Marais, Michigan, which visitors can explore free of charge.
Especially in Michigan
But today it’s only breezy, and purring across the impressive bridge on the GS is a joy. I don’t have time to stop in touristy Mackinaw City because I want to ride some small roads I’d missed on my last trip, starting with M-119 from Cross Village to Harbor Springs, aka the Tunnel of Trees.
Though not a fast road, Michigan’s famous Tunnel of Trees and its 137 snaky corners were high on my list of must-rides.
I approach from the north, stopping at the historic Polish-themed Legs Inn in Cross Village where you can spend hours taking in all the details of wood and stonework, or if you’re hungry, enjoy some kielbasa and pierogi. The famous 20-mile section of M-119 that kicks off from here is narrow, curvy, and truly a tunnel of foliage, and I’m sure its beauty is staggering in the fall, but it loses points as a premium motorcycle road for its 35-mph speed limit and profusion of deer and driveways. Still, those 137 corners are a lovely way to spend time.
The GS I was riding was capable and comfortable, not to mention photogenic, even when encumbered by my ugly orange tent.
After an overnight in Petoskey, I head for Traverse City and M-22. If there’s one thing that’s undeniable about these Midwestern states, especially their more rural areas, it’s how genuinely nice the people are. Everywhere you go. The M-22 is recommended to me by a new friend, and I take my time exploring Suttons Bay, Northport, and the Leelanau Peninsula’s pretty lakes, all miniatures next to a hulking Lake Michigan.
Leg’s Inn in Cross Village, Michigan
In Glen Arbor, I indulge in house-made cherry ice cream at the original Cherry Republic and slip a jar of cherry salsa in a saddlebag for later. I do not partake in the pit spitting at the establishment’s Olympic-size cherry spitting pit (the world record is 93 feet, 6.5 inches).
In addition to gorgeous views of the lake and rolling farmland, this part of Michigan has local wines to taste, dunes to explore, and apples to pick. The longer I spend on M-22, the more I realize it’s not just a road to the people in this area, M-22 represents a lifestyle. In fact, the M-22 highway signs have been stolen so often – 90 signs in three years – the Michigan DOT dropped the M on some replacements so they show only the number 22. If you missed your chance to nab a sign, there are plenty of places along the highway where you can buy a fake, as well as upscale M-22 apparel and souvenir tchotchkes.
“M-22” has come to represent a lifestyle, not just an awesome highway.
And I get it. There’s something about this area (the people? the chill vibe? the scenery?) that just makes you want to stick around and explore every corner. Sadly, I don’t have time or tread for further exploration, and chug east from Manistee to Bay City, overnighting in some basic chain motel and wishing I was back in my tent on the lakeshore. In the morning, I scoot down I-75 to get the GS serviced and shod at BMW Motorcycles of Southeast Michigan. Again, the nicest people.
Fields of sunflowers and historic landmarks dot the Great Lakes region.
Over the next five weeks I’ll ride through another 13 states, many of them bucket-list destinations for motorcyclists. And yet I’ll keep thinking about this Great Lakes area and its empty roads, slow pace, and big-hearted locals. If you’ve ridden there, you know. If you haven’t, go. I’ll be right behind you.
The highways in this region of the Great Lakes aren’t meant to be traveled fast. A slower pace rewards riders with sweeping scenery and new treasures in every small town.
The North Shore of Minnesota may look all pretty. But don’t let it fool you. Billions of years of violence sculpted this land. (Photos by the author and Sahlee Grace Kotoski)
If you go when the snowflakes storm When the rivers freeze and summer ends Please see if she’s wearing a coat so warm To keep her from the howlin’ winds — Bob Dylan, “Girl from the North Country”
I had forgotten about that feeling of violence that rises up through the ancient volcanic rock of Minnesota’s North Shore, where Highway 61 carves a thin rivulet of asphalt against a dead mountain range that descends into deep, dangerous water.
The sun had yet to rise. The air was cold but there was no frost. Cars with bright lights and loud trucks with loads of lumber cut through the darkness on their way to the Canadian border. My mind wandered, from Bob Dylan’s youth to the geologic time scale to the warm, soft bed my wife and I had just left.
My wife was huddled, bundled tight, hiding from the wind in a wave-carved basalt pocket. Besides a flashlight and the burning ember of my Newport, it was completely dark. Slowly the sun rose, turning purple, red, orange, and finally yellow. The lake turned blue again, and behind the lodge, the forest that covered the mountain came alive with color. It had been over 10 years since I had looked clear to the horizon over Lake Superior.
“It’s hard to believe this place is real,” Sahlee said.
Regal riding on the Harley-Davidson Ultra Limited.
We were on the third day of a four-day motorcycle trip along Lake Superior to capture the peak autumnal colors before the heavy Minnesotan winter tightened its grip. And it was our first long ride together in many years. We started our journey at St. Paul Harley-Davidson, where we borrowed an Ultra Limited in Vivid Black — a beast of a machine in both weight and power, a 900-pound workhorse designed for regal riding. It turned heads, and with a 114ci Milwaukee-Eight V-twin, it chewed up miles without hesitation.
We had checked into the historic Cascade Lodge, located between Lutsen and Grand Marais — a ski resort and a bohemian art enclave, respectively — shortly before dark the night before, following a 100-mile brisk ride north from Duluth. The lodge was established in 1927 to serve affluent Duluthians and wealthy socialites. Profiting from fishing, forestry, mining, and trade along the Great Lakes, some had predicted that Duluth would rival Chicago. F. Scott Fitzgerald, a Minnesota native, would have fit in well there. Thom McAleer, who has run the Cascade Lodge with his wife since 2017, said business was good year-round, with plenty of motorcyclists in summer and snowmobilers in winter.
The historic Cascade Lodge catered to the wealthy and elite during the early 1900s, now it welcomes motorcyclists and snowmobilers.
The geology of Lake Superior has always fascinated me. It is a history of violence that can still be felt today. Long before human barnacles — from the ghostly-white Scandinavians to the soiled French fur trappers on down to the spirits that guided the Ojibwe — clung to life on this rocky, inhospitable shore, billions of years of primeval and powerful forces created, shaped and sculpted what we see today: the world’s largest freshwater lake that has claimed thousands of mariners’ lives and at least 550 ships, including the Edmund Fitzgerald, which sank in 1975.
As we rode into Grand Marais (French for “big swamp”), we followed advice we received the day prior from Andy Goldfine, founder of the legendary riding apparel company Aerostich, and scanned the sky, hoping to see a congregation of seagulls darting at a skiff loaded with fresh herring.
The wise and wonderful Andy Goldfine at the Aerostich factory in Duluth, where Roadcrafter suits are made.
“If you sneak behind the Angry Trout Cafe, you can find fishermen cutting up the day’s catch, and freeze packing them to be sent to a rabbi in Chicago to make them kosher,” Goldfine told us.
When we met Goldfine the day before at his factory in west Duluth, we were greeted by a short, thoughtful, balding, and bespectacled man. Andy and I commiserated over our time at the University of Duluth, albeit decades apart, him with his philosophy major and English minor, and me with the exact opposite. As our conversation moved from topic to topic, from technology and its effects on society (good and bad), to the absurdity of the global fashion industry as satirized in the movie “Zoolander,” to the history of Duluth’s post-WWII economy, to global trade and how America has become a consumerism-driven throw-away society and finally trends in motorcycling, it became clear that Goldfine was not just an inventor, but a sage.
The road along the North Shore has few curves, but the scenery is beautiful.
He started Aerostich in 1983, when Duluth was in an economic recession and on the verge of becoming another hollowed-out Rustbelt town. U.S. Steel closed its coke plant in 1979. A decade prior the Air Force shuttered the base that housed the 11th Fighter-Interceptor Squadron, a secretive Cold War defense outpost that housed 2,500 to 3,500 servicemen tasked with aircrafts that would be deployed in the event of a Soviet invasion.
When I was living in Duluth 16 years ago, the west side of town was rundown and largely abandoned. Tourism, college kids with bar money, and gentrification have revived the area, with craftspeople, brewers, and restaurateurs operating in clean, modern industrial spaces like you’d find in Brooklyn. Goldfine observed all of the changes to this historic part of town. What hasn’t changed is his philosophy regarding Aerostich’s Roadcrafter suits, which have been an integral part of the riding community for decades.
With leaves past their fall peak, winter is coming.
“Our customers are everyday riders because Aerostich makes equipment. Just like a farmer’s overalls, a carpenter’s pants, a lawyer’s or banker’s suit, it is the equipment that these professions invest in, not fashion,” Goldfine said. “Our logic is that our products are sacrificial. [A Roadcrafter] keeps you safe from the elements, and say you crash going 60 and you are okay, it did its job.”
We toured Goldfine’s factory, met with his tailors, and checked out his waterproofing testing equipment and impact armor fabrication set-up. When we left, he wished us a happy marriage and I felt better knowing that guys like Andy Goldfine are so dedicated to their craft.
Sunrise along the North Shore somewhere south of Grand Marais.
From Grand Marais, we rode north and then northwest, 15 or so miles up the beautiful Gunflint Trail Scenic Byway that, further north, terminates at the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness — a 150-mile stretch of hard-to-reach pristine lakes along the U.S./Canada border that skirts the Laurentian Divide, which separates water flow from either going down to the Gulf of Mexico or up to Hudson Bay. Starting in the 1600s, voyageurs would make a special stop here to collect flint from chert deposits for their rifles.
A loaded lumber truck with two blown-out wheels partially blocked our path up the Gunflint, so we turned around and returned to the lake, thundering down the road on the mighty Ultra Limited as a kaleidoscope of fall colors became a blur.
A 1905 storm that wrecked 30 ships prompted the construction of Split Rock Lighthouse. (Photo by John Steitz)
“The Lake Superior Basin … sits dead center over an ancient rift [that] was active 1.1 billion years ago when Minnesota was really the center of the North American continent,” wrote geologist Ron Morton, in his 2011 book A Road Guide: The North Shore of Lake Superior on Highway 61. “Hot molten magma rose upward from deep within the earth, and as it approached the surface, it caused the crust to arch or bow upward, and then split like an overcooked sausage,” he added. A heavy, miles-deep pancake of basalt lava spread across the region, with larger eruptions piling pyroclastic rocks around the edges of what today is the rugged Lake Superior shoreline. When the volcanic activity stopped, the weight of the lava started to sink the earth.
Morning coffee at a rustic family cabin.
But long before that, a massive mountain range — larger than the Alps or Rockies today — had formed. As the mountain range eroded over eons, the sinking basin filled with sediment, creating a swampy plain. Then came what’s known as the Last Glacial Period, starting a mere 115,000 years ago. Thick sheets of ice covered the land and pushed southward, violently scooping out the basin like excavators. The earth warmed, the glaciers melted and a lake was formed — the world’s largest in terms of area, third-largest in terms of volume. Geologic instability causes the south and southwestern sides of Lake Superior to rise a few centimeters each year, raising the waterline on the Canadian side.
From Grand Marais, we drove up to the Lutsen Mountains Ski and Summer Resort, where we paid $24 each to take the gondola up to the summit for impressive and expansive views of the landscape. From a western outlook hundreds of feet above the valley floor, the trees were dead brown and red, a couple of days past peak, while to the east, yellows, oranges, and reds mingled with the green, winter-hardened conifers.
The rhyolitic red rock of Palisade Head and the Tettegouche area is the legacy of ancient lava flows over 1.1 billion years ago.
Our final sightseeing stop was Tettegouche State Park to see Palisade Head, a large rock formation with staggering 300-foot sheer cliffs that end in a jumble of jagged rocks along the shore. I remember coming here when I was in college. The wind would whip so hard it felt as if it would blow you right off the cliff edge, creating a mix of fear and excitement. Palisade Head and I have both aged. It looks and feels the same. Can’t say the same about myself.
Biting cold wind meant that Old Man Winter would arrive soon. Time to get back down to St. Paul to return the Harley and hunker down.
The Iron Man statue is actually named “The Emergence of Man Through Steel” and honors miners’ work through the Industrial Age. Photos by the author.
“It’s not the destination, it’s the journey,” says the motorcycling adage. That’s true! Most highlights of motorcycling are experienced during the ride. I choose journeys with an interesting place to turn around (destination) before heading back home. Riding the Iron Range in northeastern Minnesota provides wide choices of appealing destinations and journeys, riding through forests, hills and curves in Minnesota’s “arrowhead.”
Map of the route taken, by Bill Tipton/compartmaps.com.
Aptly named due to the huge iron ore mining economy formed in the late 19th century, we started our ride from the town of Mountain Iron, at the Holiday Inn Express. Riders will appreciate the covered parking for a few motorcycles. The Iron Range Tourism Bureau publishes ride guides every year. My wife Jean and I picked up one at the inn and selected potential routes to try during our few days “on the Range.” We modified and combined our routes to fit in a few destinations that piqued our interests. After our complimentary breakfast, our journey began.
Downtown Cook’s main drag, River Street, is just beggin’ for a parade.
The Mines and Pines tour was our warm-up ride for Memorial Day weekend. Heading north on U.S. Route 53 to Cook, turning west, we rode through the rural settings on Trunk Highway 1. Logging and farming appeared to be the main economic activities. Heading south on County Road 5 there was a noticeable change from farming to tourism as we rode to McCarthy Beach State Park for a break. Out of the saddle, we rehydrated, and off we went.
The northern part of the Mines and Pines tour is filled with rural settings.
Finally, we arrived at the “mines” part of the Mines and Pines tour. We ended up at the Iron Man, a tribute to the miners who worked the iron mines. After a quick lunch under the shade tree at The Stand, we were refreshed and ready to explore our destination for the day, the Minnesota Discovery Center. The Center is an exhibition of the mining and cultural artifacts associated with mining in the Range. A rail trolley used for transporting miners to and from the mines is still in operation for tourists. Some of the original buildings, homes and boarding houses still stand and are well maintained, providing a glimpse into the past’s daily life above ground.
The mine trolley is still running. Our conductors shared the history and evolution of mining technologies
with us on the loop around an open pit iron mine.
We finished back at our starting point and went out to dinner. We discovered a nice new restaurant in the neighboring town of Virginia, The Northern Divide, which provided an excellent dinner and outstanding service.
The next day was dark and gloomy in the north woods of Minnesota. Another adage for motorcyclists is, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad wardrobe choices.” We mustered up the right perspective with, “Today is a good day to test our rain gear!” Since it was raining, we decided our journey should take us to an indoor destination. More than indoors, we picked an underground destination. Trunk Highway 135 runs from Gilbert north to Tower. It’s smooth and wide, and the forest is cut back from the roadway, providing good visibility for any deer, moose or other forest creatures that might wander onto the roadway.
All the public mine overlooks were closed due to expansion of the mining operations, but we knew a guy who knew a guy who could give us a private tour of the new overlooks still under construction. Mining technologies allowed more efficient open pit mining of lower grade ore. Although the iron ore in the Soudan Mine is much higher quality, steel can be produced at lower costs with ore from the open pit processes.
After we arrived at Lake Vermilion-Soudan Underground Mine State Park, a three-minute elevator ride took us down 2,341 feet below the surface. From there we rode a trolley in total darkness. Arriving at a “stope,” a steplike excavation that is formed as the ore is mined in successive layers, we could see and hear how miners worked one of the richest iron ore mines in the world.
James, our guide, is a geologist and miner with experience in underground mines in North America and South America.
Back on the surface, the rain had stopped but the roads were still wet. Back in our rain suits and off we went to Ely via Trunk Highway 169. The journey on the two-lane road was through heavy forest and light traffic, just the way it should be. We had two destinations in Ely, the International Wolf Center and the North American Bear Center. I can’t say enough about these attractions. The quality and educational value of the displays are superb! We arrived at each just before feeding time, so the wolves and bears were up and active. Both centers have large glass viewing areas great for photographers.
As the bears meandered back into the woods, it’s time to get back on the motorcycle and head for dinner ourselves.
Backtracking west on Highway 169, then south on Highway 135, our destination for the night was The Lodge at Giants Ridge. It’s open year-round for skiers, travelers and golfers. Tomorrow’s ride would be over to the north shore of Lake Superior.
The North Shore Scenic Drive is a must for any rider. Our destination was Two Harbors, where all the iron ore from the mines comes by rail then ships out to destinations all over the world. County Highway 110 winds through Aurora and Hoyt Lakes, then County Highway 11’s sweepers took us into Silver Bay. I mentioned to Jean, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many shades of green.” The north woods were waking up from the long winter and the brilliant sunshine illuminated the greenery from every angle. Following the designated scenic route, we leaned into the curves going up and over the rolling forest terrain.
Built during World War II, this is one of the “locomotives that defeated Hitler.” Manufacturing the Baldwin Yellowstone Mallet #229 was a higher priority than military tanks and ships. It was so powerful that it pulled ore trains that would require four diesel locomotives today. An average of 10,000,000 tons of ore are shipped every year.
Reaching Silver Bay, we turned southwest on Trunk Highway 61. The road hugs Lake Superior’s north shore. It is smoother and straighter than it used to be, but the scenery is still a beautiful shoreline drive all the way to Two Harbors. Along the way we stopped at The Rustic Inn Café. It has the best pie on the north shore. Although the day was sunny, it was also cool and windy. With a hot cup of coffee, a warm piece of pie and a scoop of ice cream, I agreed with my GPS navigation when it said, “You have reached your destination.”
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