Tunnel of Trees to Big Sky

Leggs Inn, famous since 1927

Mackinaw City, MI

  US Rte 2 starts in St. Ignace, MI,  gateway to the Upper Peninsula. Between Chelsea and Mackinaw City, where the big bridge connects the Yoopers with the Trolls, the principal route is US 127, a sort of spinal column through the Michigan "mitten." Around lunch time, boredom was setting in and I realized it would only be a small detour (3-4 hours at the most) if we diverted west to M119, the "Tunnel of Trees" road  up to Cross Village and Legg's Inn, where cliff side dining offers pierogis, naliesnicki, golupki, and other Polish delights. Legg's is a favorite of mine as Polish cuisine is a close cousin to the Lithuanian cooking that made me a strong boy. And M119 is perhaps the only stretch of road in Michigan worth riding a motorcycle on. A worthwhile excursion.

We crossed the Mackinac Bridge, at one time the longest suspension bridge in the world, under blue skies and made it to Manistique the first night and then Duluth in time to visit Riders Warehouse/Aerostitch whose catalogs and products I have been getting for many years. Jim bought himself a proper "do-rag" to protect his pate and now looks like a real biker. Camping was spectacular on the Spirit Mountain ski area overlooking the city and the harbor. Lake Superior looked as ominous as ever, gray and windblown and conjuring up images of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Lake Superior from Spirit Mtn



Devils Lake, ND

Jim calling out for pizza delivery

Jim is quite the chef and our morning's treat was a half-pound of bacon, cheddar cheese and 6 eggs.  Thus fortified, we headed west on US 2 through rolling fields and forests already starting to turn yellow and orange. North Dakota brought miles of wheat fields and very few people. I did see a car but no one was in it. I took a snapshot of the license plate. Nightfall found us on an island in Devils Lake, ND where a couple of Cliff Bars and a small flask of Jaegermeister sufficed for dinner.

North Dakota wheat

The next day our goal was to set eyes on America's latest monument to unbridled entrepreneurship and corporate stewardship: Williston, ND, center of the great North Dakota gas and oil fields and boom town gone extreme. If you have ever wondered whether industry has a conscience, visit Williston. 

From 75 miles to the east, signs of temporary workforce housing became evident along the highway. Oblong aluminum boxes with a few doors and windows were bunched 30 or 40 to a group on the range land. Closer to Williston, shanty towns of big RV trailers from all over the U.S. held itinerant tradespeople who travel like gypsies following the the opportunity for employment. Twelve hours on, twelve off, seven days per week with every 4th week off, these oil field workers can not be blamed for the social and environmental devastation caused by the oil boom. As one Montana resident said to me, at least its in North Dakota, where nobody lives anyway. Bury my heart at wounded knee.

From virtual emptiness to first gear, bumper-to-bumper creeping traffic, Rte 2 becomes an ugly clot of semis, pick-ups and dump trucks. There's construction everywhere, widening and strengthening the road surface to handle the weight, adding gas stations, big box stores, bars and strip clubs to meet the demand of an almost completely male population. Large blue tanks were arranged in distant industrial fields. Jim identified them as "contaminated waste water storage containers" like those he had at the shipyard. These tanks held the poisonous effluent of the horizontal fracking process and were destined to be buried somewhere "out of the way"-- like North Dakota. Those "in the way," the residents of Williston who do not happen to be in the service businesses, have reportedly sold out and moved away. The others I'll bet are looking forward to the day they can retire move to a place like Williston used to be.

Camping in the center of town at Culbertson, MT

It was great to get to Culbertson, MT late in the day where a cool breeze was blowing and the local high school was playing a football game right in the center of town. A lady at the town museum steered us to the little town park where camping was welcome. Jim bought some charcoal and victuals and we dined on pork tenderloin, vegetables, stuffed jalapenos and Montana craftbrew. Road magic!