Day 4: Pere Marquette Trail, Corn Wagon, and Chemical Giant

Day 4:  July 29th, 2016

Lake George MI to Midland MI. 49 miles.

By Judd Curran.  

Refreshed!  A great night's sleep, clean laundry, and warm showers.  It rained a bit in the middle of the night, enough to prompt me to get up and grab my already-wet helmet and tuck it under the rain fly.  By morning, most everything was dry.  Our Intelligensia fine-ground coffee we purchased in Chicago was dripping into our coffee cups while we deconstructed camp.  A breakfast joint in our sights about 15 miles down the road in Farwell, population 871, kept us focused on getting an earlier start -- at least early enough to not miss the breakfast service.  

We were camping across the road from the lake at a private campground.  Usually avoiding private establishments due to the higher cost and variable conditions, we were pleasantly surprised by the friendly owners who offered traveling cyclists a 30% discount on the site.  

While sandwiched between two large motor homes, the whole of the campground was eerily quiet, and for us, pleasant.

On the road, we pedaled briskly with thoughts of fluffy pancakes and hash browns on our minds.  In these parts, refueling, whether in a car or on a bicycle, would come at a comparable price.

Alas, we arrived in Farwell, stopping just two storefronts off our route at a bustling small cafe called, "The Nest".  Our 11:15 am arrival was pushing the limits of breakfast, but we were in luck.

After our first real breakfast of the trip, we were in a good mood as we mounted our iron horses to continue exploring Michigan.  We had been riding East across the "mitt" of this green state, headed towards the thumb.

Needing a zoomed-out perspective of where we were exactly relative to the state, I checked our location (blue dot) on Google Maps.

Yep, it appears that we would be riding the middle finger of Michigan today.  

Crossing the main road of Farwell from the cafe, we immediately entered the beginning of the glorious Pere Marquette Rail Trail, a broad, smoothly-paved bike path connecting small towns that will guide us safely for the next 43 miles to the city of Midland.

Incredible investment has been made by the state to provide not only a safe alternative to car transportation, but a fun recreational ribbon connecting towns together.  The trail is complete with lots of signage, informing travelers of upcoming amenities available at each town.

As we entered the trail, I couldn't help but think about the trains that used to travel along this same path, and how this incredible transformation from rail-line to bike path is gifting me and thousands of other cyclists with what used to be a sight only a few conductors had the privilege to gaze upon.

Tree-lined and mostly shaded, we cruised along, often just the two of us, with occasional bursts of local riders as we passed through small communities.

At the small town of Clare, population 3,118, we were briefly routed off the trail and onto surface streets through town.  We passed by a stoner's unique mailbox along the way.

Like most small towns in the Midwest, identity is declared on the side of the prominent water tower, often the tallest feature on the landscape.

On our way through town, we came upon a mostly-empty field, occupied by a small carnival-style booth selling popcorn.  Brownie's Corn Wagon was the name written along the side in block-red letters.  Caramel corn, kettle corn, and buttered and salted popcorn were the specialties.  Still full from breakfast, we had no business stopping.  So, we stopped.  Popcorn to munch along the trail and kettle corn for later -- a few minutes later, and then again later, and ...

In the window, a prized possession, a thank you photo of the 2015 Clare County Fair pig, purchased by Brownies Popcorn Wagon.

A few more blocks through this bustling town, navigating by large trucks moving the resources extracted from the landscape, we eagerly pedaled towards the continuation of the bike trail.

Back on the trail, a carpet of wild flowers lined our route.

Every few miles, restrooms, bike racks, picnic tables, drinking fountains, and or benches interrupted the ribbon of green as welcomed amenities.

We crossed the Tittabawassee River on an old train trestle.

As we approached the city of Midland, historical markers along the path enlightened us about the importance of salt in this region.  Early uses, such as for preserving fish and other foods, curing meat, tanning hides, and for cooking, required that salt be imported from New York prior to Michigan statehood.  Salt springs and salt lands within Michigan were put in control of the state once established, and Douglass Houghton was appointed as the state geologist in the early 1800's to help develop the resource, including the salty springs along the Tittabawassee River.

The rail trail continued through Stanford, population 859, before the last 11.5 mile stretch to Midland.

As we exited the trail, we came upon the biggest thing since Milwaukee.  Midland, Michigan, with a population of 41,863, was an unfamiliar city.

Yet, as we wove our way into the city center, clues to an ominous presence gave familiarity to a place we had not been before.  We passed "Chemical Credit Union", then Midland High School, home of the "Chemics".  An industrial town suffering from a familiar economic decline to much of Michigan with the exportation of jobs and manufacturing within the auto industry, Midland's economy is still alive, fueled by surrounding agriculture in corn, soybean, and beets, and jobs at the headquarters of multinational Dow Chemical Corporation, putting Midland on the map.

After 3 days in a row of riding 50-60 miles, the equivalent of going from 0-60 mph in 2 seconds, Victoria was ready for a bit of pampering.  I wasn't opposed to it either.  She found the "H" hotel, just a few blocks away in the center of town, using Expedia on her cell phone.  We booked it, only later to find out that the "H" is in reference to the first element on the periodic table, Hydrogen.  The hotel was recently rebranded by the new owners, Dow, after a massive renovation from a dilapidated 2-star to a luxury 4-plus star hotel complete with glittering chandeliers and imported marble, catering to international Dow executives in-town for business.  

Walking into the opulent hotel in a U.S. Postal Service bike jersey and spandex shorts wasn't quite as awkward as pushing our loaded hobo-like bicycles through the well-appointed, downright luxurious lobby, complete with a half-eaten bag of kettle-corn and a carton of eggs strapped to the outside of my bike, across the marble floors, the reflection of the shiny marble surface reminding me of the obscurity of our passage, to the bank of elevators.  Our audience was as attentive as those watching a wedding procession.  Into the elevator we went, one at a time, headed to the second floor to duck behind door 214 as quickly as possible.

"Whoa!  Look, honey.... Chocolates on our pillow."  "And, a TV behind the mirror".  "Automated window shades too!"  Sheesh!

After getting a grip on our new surroundings, we headed out of the hotel to get something to eat.  On the sidewalk, we heard a group of cackling ladies talking about the Friday evening beer garden and food truck event a few blocks away.  We decided to check it out.  A new thing to Midland, and according to the locals, way outside the box of what normally happens in this conservative town, the Larkin Beer garden was bustling.

But, it had a slightly different feel to the beer gardens of Southern California that we have experienced.  Here, it was a big family affair, with games for the kids, and entertainment by the DHS (Dow High School) "Sax to the Max" band.

We enjoyed the event through sunset, then headed to a nearby pizza joint for dinner.  Another spectacular day full of the unexpected.