Bowman, ND to Buffalo, Wyoming

From North Dakota via South Dakota. I couldn’t resist making a little loop through South Dakota on our way to Wyoming. Actually I’d meant to spend some time in South Dakota. But as we travelled down Highway 85, everything seemed seemed shrouded in haze. I suspect that a forest fire was burning and the smoke was creating the haze.

The plan was to visit the Black Hills of northwestern South Dakota and maybe have a gawk at Mount Rushmore. But the Black Hills looked mostly grey when we got into South Dakota and so, after lunch, we hopped on Interstate 90 and headed towards Wyoming.

It is and has been very dry in these parts. As we went further south the fields of grain and sun flowers gave way to mostly ranching. I passed a big herd of sheep on a lonely hillside. And there sitting among the sheep was a big sheep dog. He was lying down keeping and eye on things. But ever vigilant, I’m sure.

It was even hotter today than yesterday. I’d say well over 30C although now that the sun has gone down the temperature is dropping. A woman I talked to today says that the weather is fairly unpredictable. Snow in September would not be a big surprise. And snow comes and goes during the winter as they have chinooks in these parts.

Tomorrow it’s over the mountains to the west and on to Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks.

Jamestown, ND to Bowman, ND

Yes, we’re still in North Dakota. It’s a very wide state. I looked on a larger map and right now we’re in the lower left hand corner of North Dakota. If i look straight up to Canada we’re pretty much lined up with Regina.
We spent quite awhile on I94 today. We got away rather early (for us) just before 9am. The scenery was, once again, rather Alberta-ish. The cornfields of Minnesota gave way to huge fields of sunflowers and grain crops. Early on I had to go off the interstate to find ‘facilities’. We drove into a little village called Dawson. A man and a woman were washing their war memorial wall ... she with a scrub brush and spray detergent ... he following up with the power washer. This was next door to the town hall.



Across the street was this rather odd presentation. Note the beer can in the bear’s paw.

By noon it was time to stop for gas and a bite to eat. I sometimes get a salad at McDonalds as they usually have picnic tables outside where I can sit with Eliot. However, today I discovered a place called Taco John’s. John had picnic tables and was also conveniently across the drive from the gas station so the decision was made. I had some soft tacos which came with odd potato things that I believe they called potato olés. The olés have to be the saltiest thing I have ever eaten. They were almost too salty for me and I like things salty. And, of course, they’d been deep fried.
While in line there were three guys behind me joshing with one another. At one point, one of the three said to one of the others: “But then you know I’ve got more guns than you!” And he probably did.

More Interstate 94 ...
Just before the Montana border, we headed south on Highway 85 which goes down to South Dakota. I figured we were this close we might as well see both of the the Dakotas. We’re not quite there yet. We’re in a municipal campground in a little town called Bowman. I stopped into the flower/coffee shop where I got a pound of their finest dark roast. The lady told me if we were heading south that we should be sure to check out the Black Hills in South Dakota. She also said we shouldn’t miss Mount Rushmore. I’ve always thought that Mount Rushmore was an odd sort of memorial. A bit too kitsch for my taste although the size of it appeals to my delight in big things. Perhaps I shouldn’t miss it. Besides supplying tourist advice the gal also got on the phone to see if the local campground was still open. I said: “Oh, you know the campground manager.” And she replied: “In this town, everyone knows everyone else.” I’m not sure if she thinks that’s a good or bad thing.
On my way to the campground which costs $20 with electricity and $15 without and has great showers, I stopped at a little store to buy some beer. As I was getting out of my car, this young guy drives up in a big truck with super booming bass. He held the door for me and it wasn’t until I was inside that I looked out and saw that in big letters across the top of his windshield is said: “It’s a white thing.” I am still wondering what that meant. I was standing behind him and he had a lot of tattoos but they were mostly the sentimental kind. I think one may have been of his son.
So when we left the store the radio (that had been left on blaring) was playing something by a black rapper. The only two lines I caught (unfortunately) were:
I’ll take from my black bitch
And give it to my whore.
So, if he’s a big, old racist I’m confused as to why he’d be listening to ugly black rap music. I wasn’t about to ask him.
I did buy a six pack of Budweiser. I told the clerk that I didn’t need a bag. But she informed me that she had to put the beer in a bag. It’s the law in North Dakota.

Heading South.

SW of Deluth, MN to Jamestown, ND

Yes, here we are in the heart of North Dakota. Minnesota the land of lakes (they say there are 10,000 of them); Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon; wild rice; Lutherans; and canoes are all in the rear view mirror.
I quite liked Minnesota. At least the 24 hours of that I saw. People were very polite and helpful and everything had a small town feel. I suppose because there are mostly small towns. Around lunch time we stopped in Wadena on Route 10. It has a lovely main street with some old buildings that are still in good shape. And buildings like this movie theatre.

Earlier in the day we had stopped in Brainerd (mentioned in the movie Fargo) for some dog food. We stopped at a pet store called “Pets North”. And when I asked where the dog food was they informed me that there wouldn’t be any until they had a delivery in the afternoon. I found it difficult to imagine how a pet store could run complete out of kibble. Fortunately we had better luck in Wedena where a helpful gal at a local grooming parlour and all around pet place was able to sell us something that will keep Eliot happy until we return to Victoria and can get him more of his Go!
As we drove up Route 10 (in Minnesota) which I knew from my map went to Fargo, North Dakota, I did not see a single sign saying how far we had to go. As it turns out Fargo is right on the border with Minnesota. The last town before Fargo is Moorhead where I discovered yet another order outside from the little window Dairy Queen.

Not five minutes later there were signs announcing that we had entered Fargo and North Dakota ... not that the Minnesota Department of Transport would want you to know. Fargo seemed to have a happening downtown and I would have stopped except that the railway divides the town and there are one way streets everywhere (much like Calgary). It was time for a break but I couldn’t deal with downtown parking and basically not knowing where I was (except for the Fargo bit).
But North Dakota is very flat. At least what we’ve seen so far. Reminds me a bit of parts of Saskatchewan that we passed through during Ute’s part of the trip east. After Fargo we hopped on Interstate 94 which the main drag through Fargo sort of ends up on. It goes pretty much in a straight line right across the state. We’ve made it to Jamestown which is about a quarter of the way.

Like this forever.
I love my GPS but late this afternoon when I was trying to find a campground it led us down this road ... through a cornfield.

It’s a legitimate road. It even had a road sign (37th Avenue) but clearly it was not much maintained. And it did eventually (after four miles) lead us to a campground which was rejected because it sat right beside the aforementioned Interstate 94. But GPS to the rescue as the next campground was quite acceptable. It’s a municipal campground on the Jamestown Reservoir and only cost $10 with great showers and lots of hot water! Mind you, we’re also right next door to the municipal airport but there are only planes with single engines and I suspect they will suspend operations when it gets dark. Happy campers.

Munising, Michigan to Deluth, Minnesota

Actually we’re somewhere southwest of Deluth. I’m just not exactly sure where. Out in the country where we’re camped on the edge of a trailer park. A bit “Texas Chainsaw-ish ...”. But I have Eliot to protect me.

So it was up bright and early this morning after a fitful night’s sleep what with the wind howling and rocking the van back and forth most of the night. The wind had died down by morning and all the tents seemed to still be where they were the night before. I can’t imagine their occupants got much shut-eye.

We headed out across Michigan passing through towns such as Marquette, Ishpeming, Sidnaw and Matchwood. There were some oddly named businesses too. How about the diner called “Upchuck’s”. I’m not kidding. On the other hand, the southern shores of Lake Superior seem to be unending stretches of sandy beaches. Very fine.

By noon we had crossed over into Wisconsin and changed time zones to Central Daylight Savings Time. At one point I decided on a little pick-me-up and stopped at this Dairy Queen that is very old school with an outside window where you walk up to and give your order.

But the best was yet to come. When I received my %^@&#@ I was also presented with this for Eliot!

I’m sure you can imagine his delight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The top of Wisconsin is not very wide and by suppertime we were in Deluth, Minnesota. Deluth is at the very western edge of Lake Superior where there are more beautiful sandy beaches.

Campgrounds had become scarcer the further west we travelled and seemed to be almost non-existent as we drove southwest from Deluth. We stopped at one which was quite nice and on a lovely lake. But there was no one in the office. In fact, we didn’t see a single soul during a ten minute walk around. A lot of these places have people who bring their trailers and set them up for the summer. Sort of a temporary or seasonal trailer park. So we drove on and eventually found another of these seasonal parks with a couple of men talking out front. They referred me to the ‘lady of the house’ who said to park out behind the garage (quite pleasant here). She only charged me $10.00. I’ve found water but no showers. What did I expect for ten bucks.

Spanish, Ontario to Munising, Michigan

As early as this morning I was still debating whether or not to cross into the U.S. at Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. But the prospect of driving up over the top of Lake Superior again (and the price of gasoline) nudged me towards the U.S.

We got an early start from Mitchell’s Campground and headed towards S.S.M. which we made in good time around noon. I located a Bank of Montreal with almost no delay and obtained some U.S. funds. Then a quick lunch and off to the border which involved driving over two very large bridges that span the locks letting boats pass between Lake Superior and Lake Huron.

I hadn’t realized that it was September 11 until I drove up to U.S. Immigration. There electronic signs showing the various places of the 2001 attacks. When I was passing through eastbound, I had noticed huge numbers of cars and trucks backed up on the bridge. But today it was about a five minute wait with only three cars in front of us.

I got quite the interrogation probably because the guy had lots of time. He asked me to turn off the engine and I thought: “Oh, no. They’re going to take the van apart.” But they merely wanted to sniffer dog to give the van a once over without being done in by the exhaust from my 1984 engine.

We then proceeded along Hwy 26 which runs dead west in Michigan. It’s pretty dull for the first 100 miles. The driving wasn’t dull though as a huge wind with severe gusts had come up and it was both hands on the wheel all of the time to keep Helmut on the road.

We’ve stopped tonight at the municipal campground in Munising, Michigan. The campground sits in a pretty spot on the southern shore of Lake Superior. But the wind is still howling. Just glad I’m not in a tent tonight.

Tobermory to Spanish, Ontario

Tobermory is a charming little town at the top of the Bruce Peninsula. Well, it was charming the second week of September. From all the tourist shops in town, I suspect it is a horror during the summer.

Since the ferry to Manitoulin Island didn’t leave until 1:30pm, Eliot and I did a little exploration on foot. There’s a tiny harbour where a host of tour boats leave to explore Georgian Bay. We found a little café with a sunny patio where I had a lovely cup of dark roast and a bran muffin. Back at the harbour we found this rather large vessel being manoeuvred onto what seemed a tiny trailer. They had attracted quite a few onlookers.

Then around 1pm the MS Chi-Cheemaun arrived from Manitoulin Island. (A local couple I talked to referred to it at ‘The Cheech’.)It’s about the same size as the Coho that travels between Victoria and Port Angeles, Washington. But it has an amazing feature. The bow lifts up giving access to a ramp that’s lowered to allow the vehicles to drive off the ferry.

It was a lovely, smooth crossing with an almost cloudless sky. Dogs are allowed on what they call the promenade deck. Eliot seemed quite blazé about being on the ferry unlike his reaction fretful reaction to travel on the Coho. And, of course, he made a few new friends in the course of the two hour crossing.

Once on Manitoulin Island we drove up to Highway 17 and made it as far as Spanish, Ontario where we set up camp at Mitchell’s which is really mostly a fisherman’s camp but was fine for an overnight. Good hot shower in the morning.

Toronto to Tobermory, Ontario

Sunday morning began with the somewhat disconcerting experience of getting locked in my bedroom at the Sumner-Wright residence. Around 7am Eliot decided it was time to get up. I’d been in bed relatively early the night before so it didn’t seem like a bad idea. However, when I turned the doorknob to open the bedroom door, the knob came off in my hand. And it wasn’t about to be reattached. So what to do? Wake the whole household? Which would be Wayne and Heather as I suspect their boys, Nathan and Nick, would sleep through anything. I was finally rescued around 8am when Wayne arose and confessed that he’d been meaning to tighten that doorknob.

I’d decided that we would leave Toronto after lunch and head up to Tobermory where there is a ferry that travels to Manitoulin Island. This route avoids quite a bit of highway travel. But before leaving, Heather and I shopped for groceries at Sobey’s over on Mount Pleasant Road. Actually Heather shopped and Eliot and I stood outside people watching.

Wayne had gone off to watch his grand-daughter(?) play soccer so Heather and I had lunch. After lunch I did a final check and packed up the van. Heather also equipped me with a water flask with water (since I’d left my nalgene in N.S.), blueberries and a couple of chucks of dark chocolate.

The drive to Tobermory involved getting out of Toronto in one piece. And another short run on the 401 and over to Hwy 400 which heads up Barrie way. The drive was mostly uneventful except when I noticed a factory outlet when I exited the 400 near Barrie. The signs indicated that there was a Villeroy and Boch outlet. Since the Victoria store had closed since I’d bought some dishes I dashed in to replace the mug that has since been chipped. And I picked up two more dessert plates and two soup bowls.

Waiting to turn left at Yonge and Eglinton

The rest of the drive was uneventful but a bit long and tedious. When we finally arrived at the campground at Bruce Peninsula National Park there was not a park employee in sight. The park struck me as rather odd. The campground is on a lake and not the shores of Georgian Bay. It’s also rather gloomy with campsites crammed up against one another. In any event, arriving late we couldn’t be picky. The next morning no one turned up to ask for a fee so we rolled out around 10:30am having camped yet again for free.