I took a brief stop to check out the harbor at Hammond Bay and snap a few pictures. A lady there out for her run asked me some questions, said she was married to the dock master there, and even offered their number should I run into trouble on the road (but I said I was doing alright). The first big stop of the day though was at a lighthouse that Connie had mentioned, 40 Mile Point. It was neat. There was a remnant of a shipwreck on the shore, the lighthouse had been well restored and turned into a museum, and you could climb the tower and check out the still working Fresnel Lens. There were volunteers everywhere, and some of their information was interesting (I learned it was one of few lighthouses with two keepers for instance), but I just felt bombarded by them, as well as many of the visitors. The first volunteer who approached was nice enough, having done some bike touring herself that she told me about, explaining to me about the place, and telling me where to shop in Rogers City, in between her questions on my tour. But after that I just felt everyone else was either giving me a spiel that I couldn't politely break away from, or asking me the same questions about my tour as the guy who'd just approached a minute ago. I like talking to strangers, I really do, I just hate being either talked at or treated as a spectacle and asked the same slew of questions by multiple people in such short a time. But the lighthouse and surrounding grounds was still worth the slightly overwhelming social interaction.
After that I hopped on a stretch of trail near the park that took me most the way into Rogers City. I checked out the marina there, and then headed to the Save-A-Lot to get groceries (nice store by the way, good and cheap). Then I followed the business stretch of 23 rather than 23 itself, past a quarry, over some more recently tarred road, until connecting back with 23. Partially at Connie's suggestion because she claimed there was nothing worth seeing along M23 from there and partially because it was a couple miles shorter too, I went inland after Rogers City. It wasn't like I was missing any lakeshore anyways, just a couple inland lakes. I was initially going to follow Google's directions and take a short bike path it showed running off M23 to connect to the main one. ...It was not a bike path, at least not one I wanted to be on, even with as rugged-ready as Bree is. It was rocks rather than gravel or crushed limestone, where the railroad track had clearly just been torn up and nothing else done. Right away I came to a short rail tie "bridge" with huge gaps between ties. I walked it, rotted ties cracking worryingly under foot...until one shifted on me. And that was enough of that venture. I went right back to the highway and after a little ways hopped on the much easier going highway 65, following it until Posen, where I got on an actual bike path (crushed limestone) that would take me to Alpena. It was nice going, sometimes scenic, but generally much of the same old same old bike path through the woods.
Alpena is actually quite a pretty little town. There's an island wildlife sanctuary that I saw from a distance, but wasn't feeling the desire to get off my bike and walk around. There's also a little bike path along the river and a small marina park. I ended up doing more sidewalk riding than I usually ever would because the traffic was surprisingly heavy, the highway transforming into a main road through town, with all the cars as before just at a slower, more frustrated speed, and with no shoulder, and my host was right on that road. I initially passed it, but with a quick call was righted. The place was Lee's Putt Putt.
My host for the night was a very cool guy. He's quite the self-starter and entrepreneur, having worked for himself for many years now. He started a food truck next to the mini golf course a few years ago, then got the chance to start renting the golf course and arcade, and the small apartment above it. Like many businesses in Michigan as I've discovered, it's super seasonal and only runs 100 days a year. He busts his ass for that time and then he's left free to travel and do as he will the rest of the year, usually taking up odd jobs for supplemental income through the Winter. He's getting yoga certified and wants to start teaching classes. It's definitely a different lifestyle from the normal 9-5 all year long, and while he might be putting in almost 12 hour days now (though much of it just sitting around taking money in exchange for golf balls, when he's not doing food prep and cooking for the food truck), I can clearly see the pay off. It took him some doing, but he was able to get an employee to cover for him so we could to to dinner at Burgie's, a hopping burger joint that even had good vegetarian options. We exchanged stories of our travels, him by car, me by bike, and couchsurfing experiences, and had a good time. He once stayed at a mansion belonging to some famous guy who had his degree from BYU revoked for making some porno calendar and then got in a lawsuit with them, and he once picked up a Native American hitchhiker trying to go see his son who claimed to have forgotten him but moments after they had been together, when my host tracked him down to get him the bag he'd left in the car, and then followed up by giving him and his vehicle a blessing. I love hearing other people's traveling stories.
After dinner I got a little time to relax by myself, and while he ran to get groceries for the food cart the next day, I ended up drifting off to sleep before I could finish this blog entry. I typed it now while sitting in a dark, empty banquet hall, waiting to find out the location of a log cabin. ...But that's the story of my next entry.
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