My trip to the U.P. turned into a three day event. It was good for the soul, and a needed break from the unrelenting pace of this past symphony season. I love traveling to the U.P. I'll never grow tired of the first sighting of the Bridge. I'm always in awe when I cross over the Might Mac. It's bigger than the Golden Gate, by quite a long shot, but no one knows about it, or at least it seems to me. I still enjoy the sound of the tires going over the metal grating, the see through grating that terrified me as a child. And everytime I travel over the Bridge, I have to open my windows and breathe the fresh air of Lakes Michigan and Huron, no matter how bracing it may be. It's part of my Bridge ritual, which seem to always include a stop at the U.P. visitor center where I inevitably pick up half of the available brochures. These will litter my car for a few weeks afterwards, most likely never even having been looked at.

If the timing's right, my first stop after crossing the Bridge will be to Lehto's Pasties. I've been eating these for over 30 years, and a trip to the U.P. just isn't the same without stopping there. Some people have become fans of Suzy's, the new pasty poseur up the road, closer to the bridge. She's a newbie, and I don't trust her. Her shop is just too nice and cutesy, and the fact that you can sit down and dine in the establishment is one knock against her. When you see her shop, just keep driving west, to the promised land. Lehto's was the first, the best, and the only pasty shop worth a stop. Don't get suckered by Jerri's pasties either. Who knows when THOSE pasties were made. No, instead, go to the Mecca of pasty shops, good ole Lehto's. They've been featured in Gourmet magazine, and they appear in Jane and Michael Stern's Road Food. But I don't need their seal of approval--Mort and Jan introduced me to these years ago, and I'm now a dyed in the wool fan of Lehto's.

This trip found me heading up to the Soo. The last time I visited Sault St. Marie was probably over ten years ago, and I thought it would be a nice starting point. I ended up arriving there around 4:00, and decided that I would head over to Canada, since I haven't been there in years either. I had read about a Provincial park close to S.S.M., Ontario, that featured some aboriginal pictograms painted on granite cliffs that abutted Lake Superior, so I thought I'd take a little road trip and explore.

The northern shore of Lake Superior turned out to be spectacularly beautiful. It reminds of the Keweenaw Peninsula, with it's rugged coastline of jagged granite going to the water line, and the pine trees clinging tenaciously to stone. I've been thinking about doing a circle tour of Lake Superior for a few years now. This little jaunt into Ontario has convinced that I need to do this, and I think next summer will feature a trip around the Big Lake.

The pictograms were exciting to see. They're not ancient, though some are thought to be as old as 400 years. It's an adventure to get to them. You need to inch your way along a fairly narrow ledge that lies just below the cliff face, and just above Lake Superior. Numerous signs talk about the people who have died or been injured in trying to see these--it's not that dangerous, but you certainly need to watch your step. I felt a powerful connection to these native Americans, just being able to see and touch this canvas of stone and the art that was created here by their hands 400 years ago.

I headed back to Michigan around 7:00, and had a bit of a close call with nature. I had been looking around at the scenery on the road, and as I turned back to the road, I saw, directly in front of me, a moose. Now, I've seen plenty of deer crossing the road here in Kent County, but never a moose. Let me tell you something: that's a BIG animal! It was close enough to me that I could see the muscles in it's hind quarters shake with each massive stride. She was in a full gallop, and moving fast. It wasn't a close call, thankfully, but I think if I would have hit her, I could've been a dead man. There's no pushing a moose out of the way, I'm thinking, and if you were to hit one, all you'd catch would be the legs, and I've heard that more often than not, they basically fall on your car, and you're toast. No thank you! It was pretty amazing to see a moose in the flesh, though from a distance was good by me.

I made it back to the Soo, on pretty much fumes and a prayer. They tend to close up shop early in the back country of Ontario, and I certainly was pushing the envelope in the gas department. I made it back OK, though I missed the cigar shop being open by ten minutes. I was hoping to smuggle in some Havana gold, but I guess my criminal days will have to wait. I bopped around the Soo a little bit that night, ate at an Irish pub, and enjoyed a couple of good beers. I love old signs, and took a picture of this mom and pop motel sign.


The next day, I travelled along the nothern side of the U.P., on my way to Tahquamenon Falls and Whitefish Point. There was a lighthouse at Point Iroquois that I was told was picturesque, so I stopped to take some pictures.

Though the outside was certainly nice, I was taken with the insides of the tower. I turned into an aspring Ansel Adams and took a ton of pictures of the cast iron stairs circling within the tower.

Blogger doesn't seem to want to let me upload anymore photos, so I think it's time to post this one, and continue this later.