1,000+ Miles of Fun



Chuck and Mark coming into the U.P.

The vacation schedule was marked for a motorcycle trip with the Chenevert posse this past week with the riding options being north into the U.P. and into Wisconsin or south into Virginia. We even had a Plan C, if needed. Plan C would be where the sun was planning on shining for an extended period of time. Well, after an extensive weather search that went late into Sunday evening, all options seemed to have some form of rain in them so we rolled the dice and went with the U.P./Wisconsin ride. And a fine choice it was!

I met Chuck and Mark in Brighton last Monday at 7 AM. There is no better feeling than the first day of vacation, heading west and looking at the cluster of cars headed east for their work days. That is the definition of utopia right there. So I give Chuck and Mark about a two minute "happy vacation" greeting, we jumped on the bikes, dialed it in north and before you knew it, we were throwing up the tents in Munising after a beautiful day of riding. That night Mother Nature provided the fireworks as the south skies had some pinks, some blues, some purples and every color cloud out there (see picture below) with lightning doing its thing every minute or so. Not one drop of rain hit our area though. We were initially thinking about camping about 10 miles south of town so I think we made the right decision there; and got to see a cool firework show!

not color-enhanced - it was that pink (Munising)

The "red skies at night" theory proved true as Tuesday was nothing but blue skies as we rode along the water from Munising into Marquette. After breakfast in Marquette, I had to take the fellas to the mecca of the U.P., the Superior Dome. We wouldn't be true tourists if we didn't see that. From Marquette, we headed into Chassell where a friend of Chuck's was laid to rest there a little while back so he got to pay his respects to Larry B. Larry was a rider as well. I met him a few times and the guy always had a smile on his face. If there is a heaven, thanks for the weather this past week Larry.



After Chassell, it was Keweenaw Peninsula time. I have been on the peninsula before but never on the motorcycle. With a mix of routes 26, 41, 203 and various named roads, I put that cycle ride up there with the M-119/M-22's out there. Many winding roads and no traffic. There is nothing like it. In tourist mode, we made a visit to the Keweenaw town that the Gus family used to have blood, Gay, Michigan. A trip to Gay wouldn't be complete without a beverage at the only business in town, the Gay Bar. North from there, we rode into Copper Harbor. The fog was rolling in and the temperature dropped severely once you got within a mile of the city. The view atop Brockway Mountain was bizarre as the fog was blanketing the water. We called it a day after a beautiful ride back into Houghton. My giggle for the day came in Houghton. The city has two main streets that are both one-way so you sometimes have to loop around and down one of the steep hills in town to get from point A to point B. So we do this loop once and Chuck's bike catches this deep pothole near this stop sign. There was no damage to his bike but nobody likes that. Fast forward two minutes later when we had to loop around town again and up to that same pothole near the stop sign. Up rides Mark and into said pothole he goes. Maybe you had to be there but I literally laughed out loud on that scene. A thank you for the food and service to the folks at the Ambassador in Houghton. There is my plug for today.

Wednesday came and west we went to the Porcupine Mountains, specifically Lake of the Clouds. As I was walking up the path to the cliff for the view, I encountered something I recall not so very fondly from the last time I hiked here, the black fly! As I am typing this, the bite marks are still there from the handful that got me. I didn't see too many hikers with smiles on their faces. Keep walking is the best advice I can throw out there. Bites aside, the view was still beautiful as ever.

camp in Munising

The ride proceeded west into Wisconsin when the skies to the west looked bleak. Ten years ago we would have had to guess how big of a storm was heading our way. With the fancy phone era these days, however, Mark pulled out his phone, checked the doppler, saw the storm  was definitely coming but wouldn't be a long soaker. We headed into Hurley, Wisconsin and waited out the rain. Hurley was interesting. For a city of maybe 2,000 people, they had probably 20 bars on their main street. The ATV/snowmobile scene apparently draws the crowds in from outside the area. The rain came, left, and we headed on our way to the final destination for the night in Bayfield, Wisconsin. Located right outside Chequamegon Bay on Lake Superior, the city is quite beautiful, however, we got the road construction view as they were tearing up the roads in this tiny town. They have to be done sometime so no complaints. Chuck found us a great crib called Greunke's Inn. A house with a restaurant/bar on the main floor and roughly ten bedrooms to rent. It had a feeling like you were crashing at your old aunt's house with the uneven floors and the creaks. It definitely had character. After hearing us whine about not getting the Wisconsin supper club treatment (few beverages in us at that time), Lisa the waitress caved and honored our request. A great meal with lodging in the quarters upstairs; nothing wrong with that.

Alger Falls (Munising)

I parted ways with Chuck and Mark on Thursday as they were planning on staying in Wisconsin another day. I headed back east through the lower portion of the U.P. via U.S. 2/M-69 making it into Mackinac City for the evening. I once again escaped the rain as Route 2 was dry with blue skies; however, to the north towards M-28, the skies looked dark with what I can only assume was rain. Tough love for the Seney/Newberry scene.
The ride home yesterday consisted of the M-31 Petoskey/Charlevoix scene shooting over to M-131, into Cadillac for lunch, down M-115 into Clare, a beverage in Mt. Pleasant and down the freeway home. It's ironic that I finally did get wet coming back into town right about the same spot I met Chuck and Mark on Monday in Brighton. A great trip it is when the weather cooperates and the only injury was when I put my helmet on with my sunglasses on top of my head. "Has anybody seen my glasses?" I asked. After the pain on top of my head started to increase, I took off my helmet and found my glasses! Nice.

Trail Head  



Pictured Rocks in background

 

waiting on a storm that never hit us (Munising)



rest area near Keweenaw Peninsula

 



Brockway Mountain

Brockway Mountain

 

Brockway Mountain



Eagle Harbor, MI



Lake of the Clouds

 

Lake of the Clouds

 

Lake of the Clouds

 

Greunke's Inn - Bayfield, WI



tourist mode in Ashland, WI



final night in Mackinac City before ride home

 

Badwater Bass Club - Session IV - Team AMSOIL Working Black Magic

Each week we see them arrive in their heavy, black AMSOIL shirts and each week as it gets hotter and hotter, we scratch our heads (and giggle a bit) on how they can fish in those things when the temperature feels like southern Mississippi. However, if the Vaden posse continues their domination as they showed Saturday out at Lake St. Clair, you're going to see the rest of the Badwater members digging in the closet for their AMSOIL shirts (we all have one). The elder Vaden took the big stringer and baby Vaden took big fish.        

There was a minor rule change put in place for the session in that three instead of five were classified as the limit. The rationale being that St. Clair produces the "biggins" and some of the live wells we use should be called "dead wells" so in all fairness to the fish, the less stress on them, the better.

The fish story from the boat I was in is just like many you have heard before. The biggest fish ever (okay, slight exaggeration) grabs Tim's line, Tim gets it near the boat, the fish leaves Tim's line, Tim cries; Jim taunts Tim every couple minutes with "you 'horsed' him" until Tim tells Jim to shut the fu** up; the end. That is what I like about the group I roll with though. You can tell them to shut the fu** up and not have to deal with any "why would you say that?" reactions. You let it out, smile, and move on. I like it that way.
Trail Head     

 



big bucks for Team AMSOIL



man imitating fish

 

 

Island Lake - Magic Bus

The pride of Bennett Street in downtown Milford was back in town for a loop out at Island Lake tonight. When you have the same last name as the street you live on, you can be called the "pride" so there you go Trig. Welcome back to the area.  

All kidding aside, Trig is in from Arizona for a working vacation in the metropolitan "D" with his family. I applaud the effort of him shipping his mountain bike back from Arizona as Michigan forest rides compared to Arizona rock rides (yes, the mountains are cool) are apples and oranges. Right on Mr. B.

Although unrelated to mountain biking whatsoever, there was a cool VW bus in the parking lot tonight (pic below). It reminded me of the bus Al C. used to own. There is nothing like the VW sound although having the clutch blow while tailgating in Mt. Pleasant and having your friends push you through campus and back home is priceless. I wasn't there but still laugh at that visual.

Trig will be in town until early July, please remember to tip your waitress. 

Trail Head  



Trigger

Badwater Bass Club - Session III - One Man Wrecking Crew

One man, a red boat and a hot hole. That is all that was needed Friday evening at Thompson Lake in the third session of the Badwater Bass Club. While others frantically scoured the lake looking for that elusive bass, Jim camped out near the northwest shore and scored himself a full bag of fish, granted one of the fish was dead on arrival at the weigh-in. Dead fish are apparently welcome in the club standings as the rule states, "A 4oz. per fish penalty will be assessed for fish that do not swim away on their own after weigh in." Only a four ounce penalty, eh? For the next session I'm going to the fish store and buy five large bass that will obviously be dead. If they are at least three pounds, the four ounce penalty (per fish?) will still leave me with five fish that come in just over two pounds each. I think that rule might need to be updated.

Here nor there, a great session from Jim and his Red Rocket vessel.

Trail Head 

 

 

 

 

big bucks for the win

 

Mother Cup '13 - Seadog Reign is Over

A group of friends gathered this past weekend for the granddaddy of them all, the Mother Cup; the class of ’84 (Sons of Liberty) versus the class of ’85 (Seadogs) on Lake Skegemog in Williamsburg, Michigan. The ’85 class had won the past three years so there was talk of the team competition being dissolved as while the SOL’s caught their share, the beatings by the Seadogs were becoming commonplace. Something had to change for the SOL’s or it was going to be a repeat massacre. And change they did.

Case in point number one; the team mascot for the SOL’s should have been a leech as that was their primary bait in past years while the Seadogs relied mainly on the wacky worm. There was not a leech to be seen this year as it was “wacky” more or less across the board for the two teams. I didn’t know
Tommy knew how to fish without a leech but after this weekend, he made a believer out of all of us.

The festivities started Friday morning in the annual golf scramble at Twin Birch golf club in Kalkaska. The place is usually a ghost town and we have the course to ourselves; however, we pulled up and saw a parking lot completely full. A company golf outing was going on so we needed a Plan B. When one door closes, another one opens. We found a nice course, Grandview, right up the road that was actually nicer than Twin Birch. It was the Champ/Raj combo versus Dan H. and me. The nine-hole scramble was a close one but Champ kept hitting the drives which allowed Raj to try and unleash the fury in his sandals (no jokes on the sandals, he dominated in them). They came close to a hole-in-one as well. The only stain on their round was they missed the short putt on that hole for the deuce. Regardless, the SOL’s had their mojo going and I was hoping my Seadog team wasn’t getting fat and sassy for our past conquests.

Friday evening came and the fishing competition began. While I was expecting the SOL’s to raise their team flag (below ours of course) but the choice was made that if their flag wasn’t on top, they didn’t want it on the pole. To each his own I guess. After the first session was completed, we knew they meant business as Slick’s (SOL) bag of fish kept pulling out whopper after whopper at the weigh-in. Fifteen-plus pounds of bass when it was all weighed. I’d have to check the archives but I would have to say that is the biggest bag, excluding non-bass, that has ever been hauled in during the Cup. Dan H. and Tommy added to the SOL totals with sessions of eleven and nine pounds, respectively. While the Seadogs had an okay outing, the SOL’s put the line in the sand with a 51-24 pound lead with the final team session scheduled for Sunday morning. A 27 pound gap to make up in one session; not insurmountable but it wouldn’t be easy.

Saturday was designated as individual sessions so the Seadogs had a day to find their groove. Slick left off where he started Friday as the “biggins” were again jumping at his hook. It must have been the net guy (me) that brought the fish calling. Regardless, after two sessions, Slick was in first place for the total fish poundage award for the weekend. One minor problem for his momentum; however, in that he was committed to a wedding for Saturday night so he’d have to miss the evening session. Only one person has ever been able to win the weekend angler award and still miss a session, Gus (Seadog). He would have his work cut out for him as Tommy got a 4.65 pound bass (big fish for weekend) and wasn’t letting up; heck, everyone seemed to have kicked it up a notch this year. 

After the Saturday morning session was wrapping up and everybody was bringing in the boats, a moment of donkey-ness was presented by yours truly. Slick had left down state for his wedding once we tied the boat up so I was pulling in the

yep, boots are wet as well

fish from the live well and cleaning up the scraps in the boat. With six boats tied in various positions around the dock, some creativity is needed to keep them there while not bumping into each other. Slick’s boat had about a six-foot rope tied in the front to the dock with the anchor thrown out the back. To get out of the boat, someone just needed to pull the front rope a bit so the boat lies close to the dock and jump out to safety. So there I stood at the tip of the boat with the rope giving roughly all of the six feet slack out. Rather than tug the rope to get closer for my dismount, I decided to utilize my junior high broad jumping ability and make the leap to the dock. Well, I hit the edge of dock with my boots; however, my momentum was not moving towards the dock as it should have. It was unfortunately headed the other way. The whole experience took about ten seconds but it felt like I was dangling there in suspension forever. If I would have just accepted the fact that I was going in the water, all would have been well as the water was only three feet or so deep. I slipped as I hit the water and down I went with cell phone and camera in tow; submerged. The cell phone managed to dry and got its functionality back on Sunday but the camera is still in surgery waiting for a miracle. A lesson learned I guess.

After drying out, it was time for the evening fish session. With Slick absent, Tommy had a chance to make up some slack on the pound total. He took the opportunity and ran with it as he and Dan H. bumped Slick to number three in the overall standings. I would be remiss if I didn't give a shout out to the M&M  (Mitchell/Munson) boat for taking the big boat money on both Saturday sessions.

Sunday morning came and it was time for the Seadogs to see if miracles do in fact happen. Twenty-seven pounds to make up; it would take some outside the box thinking. The boat sitting in the drive-way, the Red Rocket, had not touched the water yet and we hoped it would be the answer as Gus and Jim have had some record sessions doing the wacky worm drift in past years. While the two had a good haul with Al, Doke, and I getting our fair share, the gap was too much as the final ended up:

SOL – 96.15 pounds
Seadogs – 74.15 pounds

Big Fish - Tommy - 4.65 pound bass
Most Fish Pounds - Tommy - 39 pounds

Golf Scramble - Champ/Raj

The SOL’s now have the top spot on the flag pole with the Seadogs only to ask themselves what went wrong. I don’t believe we did anything wrong; the SOL’s just fished their asses off. The better team won.

Lastly, thanks, as always, to Dave and Judy for allowing eleven guys who didn't shower for three days to take over your house. I hope the smell eventually leaves your premises.

Congrats to the Sons of Liberty for the victory.

Trail Head

sweet picture dive Jim

 

 

 

 

Seadog flag will be second fiddle in '14