Duluth, the Whole Duluth, and Nothing But Duluth...

So my fascination with the town of Duluth, Minnesota, started back in 2003. I had really never heard of it before , not that I remembered anyway. I didn't know then that it was once the busiest harbor in America, bigger even than New York Harbor. I didn't know that at the turn of the twentieth century there were more millionaires per capita here than any other City in America. Did you know that American music icon Bob Dylan was born here? Sure was, he grew up in a second floor apartment in a row house. The Monacco of the Midwest, The Zenith City.
So, Kelli had decided that the boys were old enough to keep up with a vacation by this time and told me that she had found this place in Minnesota that looked really cool online. Marshall was 7 and Mitchell has just turned 3. They were both so full of adventure from our times spent it in the "Wilds" of Boone County that I knew they could handle it. She's the planner between us (I just drive and help ride herd on the kids) so I asked her what there was to do there. The response checked every box that a kid could have; trains✓, boats✓, ships✓, sea birds✓, lighthouses✓, more rocks than you could throw in a lifetime✓✓. Hard to believe that such beauty exists just 6 easy hours from my doorstep. We had an absolute blast there and I will never lose those memories. We went again in 2015 and would you believe we had even more fun. Two teen age boys still being mischievous, and Kelli and I looking at each other and laughing along with them. When the chance arose for me to go on a solo trip (Kelli had gone to Vegas with a friend earlier in the year, so I got a pass to go somewhere too) it was a no brainer to go North!
I sketched out some ideas of the things that I for sure wanted to do. Build a bike trailer and tow my gear along the famous North Shore, explore Duluth by bike, kayak le Lac Superieur, play some disc golf, fill and drain a beer growler with locally brewed beer, see an Aurora event from an area with a low kp number (Google it) look out over Palisade Head, and use pieces of my collection of camping gear that have otherwise sat in waiting. You have to leave the front porch if you want to see the world!
Now I knew that I would be challenged by some of my normal baggage, like leaving my family behind to go and " play" in a place that they all love so much too. Guilt tripped myself before I even left the house. Also, towing all of my gear has stopped me before (failed ragbrai attempt from around '08?) and the now perpetual questions and worries of my Mom's advancing Dementia, Dad's blindness, and my sons seemingly having grown too old to need me anymore. But it all moves on as life does. Nobody gets the answers ahead of time. One of my favorite sayings says, roughly, that life is a cruel teacher. First you take the test, and then you learn the lesson. It was funny, I welcomed the knowledge that it would all come to a boil on this trip. That tears would flow and the questions that all Dad's must ask of themselves would dog my every mile. "Have I done enough?" "Did I put enough in the boys for them to draw from it when they need to?" "Can I still be a teacher to them without giving tests first?"
My plan, loosely, was to explore for the remainder of the first day, and then to be cheap and add some adversity to the whole thing, sleep in my car instead of getting a motel room. Well, that was sure an adverse situation. I parked my car in a municipal ramp for$15.00 for the three days I was to be there. During the day the car was shaded well and I thought sleeping in it would be an ok way to get bye. I couldn't have been more wrong. It was pretty hot, so I thought about putting the windows down to get some breeze. Then it was too noisy and felt insecure with no barrier between me and the rest of Duluth. I thought for certain that I would be questioned at some point by ramp security or the police, but I didn't see a single soul in the time I was in my car. I estimate that I only had about two hours sleep that first night. When I woke up at around 5:30 I felt fine. It seems that I need far less sleep as I have aged, is that normal? As I began to assemble the components of my trailer and bike I soon realized that I had too much junk! I loaded and balanced everything and went down the ramp to see how it felt. I turned right around and took almost everything out. No food preparation (mini stove, pots, utensils) no dry food (rice and beans, Raman) no machete, fixed blade knife, hammock, golf discs, or binoculars. All I left in the trailer and Apidura bags was my growler, tent, sleeping bag, a few salted nut rolls, a canteen of extra water, a towel, off-bike shorts and shirt, and camp shoes. Pretty much meant that I would have to scavenge and eat at any opportunity. Why does this theme of poor nutrition seem to dog my every ride lately? I'm a little better than that I I think.
The pictures to follow will tell some of the story of how pleasant the ride up was. Pure joy. I have seldom felt so free on the bike. The "bike path" was seldom more than the shoulder of the road, which varied from six feet to a slim 18" our less. The polite Minnesotans gave me plenty of room though. Even the huge logging trucks get over a good five feet for bikes. That's nice.
Once I arrived at the state park at Split Rock Lighthouse I was lucky to grab a tent camping spot that another person had reserved, but lost, due to their failure to check in. I set up my tent, grabbed a shower (yes, a shower with warm water) and decided to have a nap before the highlight of the trip was to commence. You see, there are exactly and only two days in each year that the beacon of the lighthouse is illuminated, and as a royal bonus, my trip lined up with one of those two days. The two and a half hours that would follow my nap were Pure Grace. Only in God's infinite simplicity could the imagery and metaphor that opened to me have been so perfectly delivered...