September 11, 2017
Leaving Michigan…
Duluth, Minnesota
As we left the hotel this morning, we noticed a group of government
workers preparing to go out with trucks and trailers that had pictures and text describing
the evils visited on the Great Lakes fish populations by sea lampreys. I had never heard of a sea lamprey before; however, Robin had, as his first major in college was biology. Robin talked to one of the biologists who said they were using poison to try to kill the young lampreys (they are really ugly!). He said that these things got into the Lakes when the Welland Ship Canal was built to bypass Niagara Falls. The mouths of these lampreys are suction cups, and they attach themselves to the sides of the prey and suck their insides out.
the evils visited on the Great Lakes fish populations by sea lampreys. I had never heard of a sea lamprey before; however, Robin had, as his first major in college was biology. Robin talked to one of the biologists who said they were using poison to try to kill the young lampreys (they are really ugly!). He said that these things got into the Lakes when the Welland Ship Canal was built to bypass Niagara Falls. The mouths of these lampreys are suction cups, and they attach themselves to the sides of the prey and suck their insides out.
I
We thought we were heading to Duluth; however, later we found we turned the wrong way on the road—it was
going west and so were we, so we assumed it was the road west. After a few minutes we saw a sign that read, “End
of the Earth, 2 miles.” We realized we
were indeed at the end of our road when it led us up to a little hut and a
young park ranger asked if we had our state park pass. “Ah, no, isn’t this the way to Duluth?” He smiled, as if lots of people make that mistake,
and sent us back the way we had come and instructed us to turn away from the
lake. We asked him where End of the Earth
was, and he laughed. He said it was a
joke—two rangers came up with it and they had a sign made.
 |
| The house at the End of the Earth |
Okay. Got that. We headed back to find our road with a stop
at the Wilderness Gift Shop on the way—a cute little cabin with wall-to-wall
souvenirs and shirts and honey and junk. I am not a shopper, and too much stuff
confuses me. We did make a few purchases
and went on our way.
 |
| Flowerbox at the Wilderness Gift Shop |
One of our plans was to take a little side trip to visit the
Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, so, as we headed north along the peninsula,
we listened to Charles Kuralt’s Life on
the Road. He spins such wonderful
stories. I’d read the book and listened
to the tapes before, and they never get old.
In fact, one of my dreams was to go on the road with him when I was
younger with visions of becoming a journalist and before he died. He was a journalist extraordinaire, reporting
on the ordinary and finding a story in everything and everybody.
The Lakeshore Visitors Center was closed, and much of the
Park is offshore, but we rode through parts we could get to and photographed
some of the sand dunes there.
When the audio book ended, and I was driving back along the
lake, Robin got out his harmonica and played some nostalgic tunes, ones that
only a harmonica can create.
Beyond the end of the road in Michigan, we spent what seemed
like only a few minutes in Superior, Wisconsin, and landed in Duluth, Minnesota
for the night, right across the street from the ever-present lake.
