Day 32 – Flint to Algonac, Michigan

The state of Michigan now lies behind me. It has taken 3 days and almost 250 miles of cycling to get here; but I’m literally staying within sight of Canada tonight, in the small town of Algonac. I can’t say any of those three days was startlingly different to the other two. In other words, today was scenically more of the same, overall. I also enjoyed another collection of pleasant small towns (Goodrich, Lake Orion, Romeo, Richmond) and even an old railroad turned into a tree-lined, flat, smooth, paved bike path. Again.

There were other highlights, however, most notably my first stop of the day in the pleasant village of Goodrich, where I visited the Cranberries Cafe. I was the only customer when I arrived for brunch and so it was easy to fall into conversation with the delightful Becky, who shared stories with me of her travels, not least a week she spent in Rhyl, of all places! We got on very well and I must compliment their salmon chowder, which was excellent, and also give a very big thank you to Becky for not charging me! How kind.

Today I never seemed to be far away from busy roads and people. It has perhaps crept up on me; but this is a much more populated part of the country now. The roads today were also a tad on the narrow side for the trans-continental adventure cyclist’s liking, with little or no shoulder to play with. It called for a different approach to asserting my right to the road, although I found most people were respectful and drove safely. Even so, I was glad to get away from the traffic when I could. For an hour, I escaped onto a rail trail, which was fairly well used by other cyclists, this being a cool, cloudy Saturday.

It delivered me to the town of Richmond, which was in the middle of its “Good Old Days “ festival. I must have been early for the big parade, because all along the Main Street for a couple of miles people had set out camping chairs to get themselves a good view, some tied together with lengths of rope. It seemed a bit like using towels to get the best places at the pool. There were many of them; but no people.

After Richmond, and not for the first time today, I found myself leaving paved roads. The fact is that many of Michigan’s minor roads are unsurfaced. More than I expected by far. Back in the west this spelt trouble, as you may recall. But here, although equally unpredictable and very much a feature of Google Maps route planning, the roads were very rideable. They were well used, too. They typically had desirable residential properties all along them and regular – but not busy – traffic. One even had a large school on it. After some initial hesitation, I decided to embrace the dirt. The roads were nothing if not direct and had a habit of suddenly reverting to smooth tarmac for no obvious reason.

At the end of the final, long, straight dirt road, I arrived suddenly on the shores of Lake St Clair. Somewhere, about sixty miles to the southwest across the water as the crow flies, was Detroit. I couldn’t see it; but you could see far and the view was good. Lake St Clair sits in between Lake Huron to the north and Lake Erie to the south, and forms parts of the Great Lakes waterway for shipping for about nine months every year when it is ice-free. In fact you can get a ship all the way from the St Lawrence Seaway in Atlantic Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, via the Great Lakes and the Illinois and Mississippi Rivers, thanks to human engineering. That’s a long way in a big ship across a continent.

For several miles as I cycled past wetlands and rushes on one side and boatyards on the other, the lakeshore road made a beeline for a tall, slender white tower. I thought perhaps it was a lighthouse; but it was actually an old water tower, the “Colony Tower”, built in 1925 to look – and function- like a lighthouse. The landmark light was retired in 1937 due to high operating costs.

Tomorrow morning I should be making the short ferry crossing to Canada over the St Clair River, one of the narrower sections of this impressive navigation network. I’d better put on a clean set of cycling clothes, I think, so I don’t offend the border officials. I haven’t crossed an international frontier on a bicycle before (although I did once canoe into Canada), so that will be another first!