Forestry and mining dominate this part of the world. All of the towns are one-industry, or, if fortunate, two-industry, with mining being the second of two evils. Forestry prevails from here west to the border with Manitoba but there are scattered production mines for gold or other metals.

The road isn’t the greatest, although it is well maintained. It’s all two-lane blacktop at best, with the occasional passing lane to break the monotony. Straight stretches are at a premium, and during summer the ‘Bagos, boat trailers and semis are tough to get past.

Deer and moose prevail. Hitting a 1,200 pound moose is no picnic, and although the deer are much smaller, at speed they too will make quite a mess out of a car.

Fuel isn’t a problem along this route. There’s plenty of every kind you might want to buy, although you may have to spend some time looking for a particular octane in town.

North of Wawa the road heads inland for 116 miles and then Marathon comes into view on a peninsula into Lake Superior. There are three gold mines east of Marathon, but you won’t be stopping for a tour to see the sights. You’ll never get in.

Since the road now follows the shore, fog and rain are a problem any time the wind is out of the south or southwest, and then it becomes just another road to get past. When the sun is out, as it was today, it’s a beautiful ride along some of the most scenic roadway in North America.

There are plenty of small communities along this part of the Trans-Canada Highway. Any time you want a scenic overlook, just pull off the road into one of them and you’ll be delighted by the view. Depending on the size, you might even be able to get a coffee or a meal – but don’t count on it.

By the time Thunder Bay came into view it was late afternoon and time for a break.

I lived here for ten years when I was flying for a living. It’s a jewel in the middle of nowhere, a lunch-bucket town with grain elevators and paper mills located at the head of the lakes. In former times it was a huge shipping center for both lakeboats and salties to traverse the Great Lakes through the lock system at Sault Ste. Marie and into the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

I made a quick stop at the Terry Fox monument for a view across the bay to see the Sleeping Giant in all its glory. In twenty minutes I’ll be chowing down at a tiny little Chinese restaurant in the west end of Ft. William on Aurhur Street, not far from where I used to live.

Today I’m splitting Michigan up the middle on US127 and heading for the Mackinac Bridge and Sault Ste. Marie. I’ve gotten a late start, so I won’t get too far, but that’s all right, because the weather is cooler. It’s still sunny too.

Mackinac is Canadian French, short for Michilimackinac, from early Ojibwa “Missilimaahkinaank” which means “at the territory of the Mishinimaki”. The French pronounced it “aw” but spelled it “ac”. The British heard it pronounced “aw” so they spelled it that way. Whichever way you see it spelled, it is always pronounced “aw”.

The Mackinac Bridge in northern Michigan is five miles long. At mid-span the road is 199 feet above the water. Construction began in May of 1954, and it opened for traffic on-schedule in November, 1957. Five men lost their lives during construction. To paint it takes seven years, and then they start all over again.

In 1989 a Yugo was blown off of the bridge in a bad windstorm, and in 1997 an SUV was driven off of it.

Residents of the Upper Peninsula (“Yoopers”) often refer to Lower Peninsula residents as “trolls” because they live “below the bridge.”

The wind howls across the roadway, and although it can be a little unnerving, I’ve crossed the bridge many times, by both car and motorcycle. On the bike I just angle over into the wind and I’m across in no time.

A motorcycle tends to wander a bit in the grate-covered lane, but that’s no problem. It’s completely normal. Relax your grip on the bars a bit and let it wander. If you’ve never experienced that sensation before, you’ll get the hang of it after a mile. The speed limit on the bridge isn’t so great that you’ll feel uncomfortable.

Crossing into Canada went trouble-free, and from the border I headed north on the Trans-Canada Highway along the north shore of Lake Superior to Wawa. There’s plenty of bush, lakes and animals on this road, not to mention the mosquitoes and the flies. It’s isolated and lonely riding, but that makes the fuel stops entertaining for the characters that cross your path. It’s also a huge tourist area in the summer, and businesses sell all manner of trinkets to foreigners (Canadian as well as international) who come up here by car or tour bus to experience the bush.

Vehicles aren’t an option in this part of the world. You either own one or you stay where you are until the Greyhound bus arrives, and then you’re at the mercy of their timetable. If you’re off the beaten path, you’re even more isolated as electricity is not an option for most summer or winter cottages in this area. Of course, all the towns have electricity. In the winter, snowmobiling and ice fishing are big here.

Better them than me. I’m always glad I’m just passing through areas like this, although it is very pretty country to see.