I started down the road, fully loaded, paralleling the East Branch of the Baptism River. This trip would be solo. My trusty travel companion, Farrow, was surely deep into a new book, convalescing from recent hip surgery. I thought that adventure is still alive. It is stepping into an experience where the outcome is not for sure. It is certainly the possibility of plans changing, expectations scrambled. It is lonely, at times and even scary. I thought for miles about a dance with a partner simply called “the unknown.” And I do believe that the best adventures are out in the wilds somewhere, too.

Finally on January 19 a window of opportunity opened to have a crack at my beloved Winter Wolf route. This is a piece that I have worked on for a few years, finally culminating in the course that winds between Finland and Grand Marais, Minnesota. After beating my head against trail usage politics on the North Shore, one day, Farrow and I just decided to ride plowed roads between our destinations. That fateful trip convinced me that I was not missing much and had some of the most beautiful passages spanning the North Shore virtually to myself.

The significance of the Winter Wolf route this year is simply the act of getting out and riding long even if there is not an event associated with it. As a bonus, I have thrown out the challenge of camping out if one takes on the route. My love of spending nights on the ground has convinced me that it completely changes the feel of the experience.

Instead of doing a play by play, or crafting a mythical story as Farrow does so well, I will give snapshots of the journey with hopefully some beneficial advice.

Total trip time was 34 hours. I left the North Shore State Trail parking lot in Finland at 0800, arrived at my sleep spot at about 1730 that evening (at dark-thirty.) I began riding the next day at 0700 and returned to Finland at just after 1900. I was going steady, stopping as little as possible during riding time. I found the Grand Marais to Finland section, even without the unplowed sections, to be more challenging than the first day.
The USFS is still prohibiting camping at campgrounds. I am clarifying with my partners there whether one is permitted to tent camp at one of the many other lake access turn-offs enroute. It is permissible to camp on USFS land, our public land. But Leave No Trace ethics are strongly recommended!

My experience was that The Trestle Inn (18 miles from the start or 62 miles east of Grand Marais on the way home) was not open at either time. Be prepared to carry water or have the means to melt snow. Most creeks/rivers were locked up with ice, too.
My bike weighed close to 80 lbs with water on board. Despite having some pretty light gear, stuff just adds up! I kept feeling like I was starting a touring motorcycle at the start of the day. But magically, that rig rolled well. I also kept tire pressure up to close to 12 psi.
The roads were a mix of hard pack dirt/ice, straight ice or snow covered with 1-2” and tire tracks. I kept tire pressure high (relatively speaking) with this in mind. Studded tires are a must for this route.
The unplowed section from mile 22-32 was almost completely rideable. There were sections of truck ruts necessitating some walking. The snowmobile tracks had set up well which greatly added in the ability to spin instead of push. Going against all wisdom, I kept tire pressure high and was still able to get through OK. Anything softer, and I would have dropped pressure.
The second unplowed section between mile 62 and 67 was the same. Mostly hard packed snowmobile trail and generally rideable.
Temps at the start were well below zero. I was lucky to find a pair of older, blue-laced 45NRTH Wolfgar boots last month. I think I am sold. I am not going to get into the platform pedal vs clip option here, but I am convinced now that I can keep my feet warm AND have the power transfer that is so welcome when spinning a heavy rig like this. Yes, I had a couple of episodes of cold toes…but walking a few minutes took care of it and the efficiency of pedaling was very worth it.
I am trying vapor barrier layering and I think it has a place in upper body clothing and also for sleeping. I use an old Patagonia Houdini jacket against my skin then a midweight zip-neck baselayer on top. When it was cold, I added an ancient Patagonia Nano-Puff pullover then my Wintergreen Boundary Waters hooded Windshirt as a windbreak layer. Though moisture management proved to be tricky at times, I stayed dyer than usual and was never cold. Except when I stopped to camp…

So when a heated cabin comes along…are you strong enough to resist? No, not this time!

So my Winter Wolf completion comes with an asterisk. Here’s a pro tip. If you know a guy on course and he lives very near your day’s destination point, it is best you just keep riding. Because otherwise, your grand plans to sleep in your new tipi tent with fancy titanium wood stove will surely come crashing down at the first utterance of “heated cabin.” OK. I know. Let me have it. To my credit, I have spent more nights outside in the Winter than most. And I have suffered with the best off them. Maybe as I approach 50 next month, wisdom is finally creeping up on me so that I do not ride past cozy cabins anymore. Or maybe I am just getting soft. So my Winter Wolf competition comes with an asterisk. It just means I have more work to look forward to later this Winter!

About that sleeping outside stuff. I did carry everything I needed to sleep well during the trip. This included a -40 degree down bag, Nemo air mattress and ground sheet. I am trying a new Seek Outside tipi tent with a titanium stove that I am able to fit easily within my bike bags. So I was ready!
That vapor barrier thing works well (at least better) keeping your insulating layers dry; whether it is your clothing or your sleeping bag. I have sewn up a silnylon bag to use inside of my down bag with good success. But be warned. The moisture you produce in sweat stays next to you (and not wetting the bag or clothes.) It is a “unique” feeling. When I stopped for the night, getting ready to set up my tent, the first thing I did was strip out of my base layers on top and thrown on dry, insulating shirts and coats.

An Egg McMuffin makes a solid lunch item. And my slightly custom-hemmed (I sewed the ankle cuff in a couple of inches) Wintergreen Half Zip guide Pants worked perfectly with a long underwear layer.

I mentioned that I carried 5 liters of water to begin. On the second day, I “knew” I would be probably OK with the 3 liters on my back which worked well for me. Obviously, everyone will vary slightly from this amount.
Expect most things you might eat in the Summer to freeze into a tooth shattering block in the Winter. I have switched to fruit “fig” bars because they are always malleable. I’m also a fan of McDonald’s breakfast sandwiches (trust me, I stay away from fast food 99% of my life) and homemade pizza for supper or snacking.
I do not do drink mixes anymore and have never looked back. I have yet to suffer any electrolyte problems (that I am aware of) from using just warm water and food from home (or the drive thru.)

It was blowing in Grand Marais the morning I left

Grand Marais is one of my favorite places. The Java Moose is open for coffee and Holiday Gas Station is an easy option. But many other restaurants may be shuttered for the season/covid. Check them out before you leave. The municipal campground is open! This was to be my destination before I sinned. Again, call to confirm this! For the camping, not the sinning part.
That ride dropping into Grand Marais is thrilling. But there is also 1200 feet of climbing heading out of town. From the water of the bay to the eastern tip of The Grade at mile 92, you have some climbing ahead of you.
Heading into Grand Marais and Finland necessitated having decent lighting. But for this short of a trip, a good headlamp sufficed. Also, always run a red tail light.
And a word about traffic. One of the best things about this route is the near absence of cars, or any humans, for that matter. BUT be warned. There is logging. I had four logging trucks pass me, two unloaded and two loaded. All were law abiding and well within the speed limits. And two even had the courtesy to use their low-pitched air horns before passing. Instead of being rude, this was frankly a welcomed safety move on their part. Be smart and stay right, stay bright while riding.
And 80 miles at a go without people is either a blessing or a curse depending on your frame of mind. As is goes with long distance cycling, if it’s going like hell, put your head down, pedal and wait it out. Your mind will change. As when it’s all perfect and high and nothing could go wrong, wait 15 minutes and be prepared for dark times. It happens. Bring music (use cautiously always being alert to traffic.) Bring a friend. Or go solo. They all have their pros and cons.

Constant travel companions. Wolves on the road.

And finally, there are the wolves. Chance are, you will not be so lucky to see one. But I can almost guarantee tracks. They use the roads just like we do. Easy traveling and fun things to pee on along the way. I was also treated to a sighting of THREE lynx just lounging/playing on the road on Perent Lake Rd. Then, a beautiful fisher scratching around in the road not 5 minutes after the lynx. Yes, moose tracks for sure. And fox. It is always quiet enroute on these roads in the Winter (except for the occasional logging truck,) but signs of wildlife are always near. This is one of the best things about this route. The quiet, in fact, was deafening at times. We get so use to having constant chatter that hearing nothing but the wind through the trees and your own thoughts can be disconcerting, at first. But roll with it. Learn from it. I promise you will come back stronger, wiser and healthier. OK, maybe after a couple of days.

Please feel free to email any comments or questions. jeremybkershaw@gmail.com