July 26, 2013 Day seventeen

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Morning brought a light rain and unseasonably cold weather.  We checked out of the hotel and drove up the “north shore” of Lake Superior.  This is an amazing drive through the north woods along the shore of Lake Superior, the closest things that the Midwest has to an ocean.  The views in the rain showed one of the different moods of the lake.  We didn’t see the postcard views, but they were spectacular.

We stopped to see two lighthouses in Two Harbors, MN.  By this time it was raining harder, and we could not quite put our hands on our raingear.   We could see the main lighthouse up close but we got quite damp walking out on the breakwater to the smaller lighthouse, and finally gave up getting all of the way out to the end.  We can vouch that Lake Superior weather can be harsh even in July.  Several times we were grateful that we has such nice weather watching the ships come in the day before.

Our destination at the most northern point of our day was one of our all time favorite lighthouses: Split Rock Lighthouse.  This lighthouse station was much more extensive than the others we had seen on this trip and had marvelous tour guides and interpretation.   We saw a billboard advertising “ Split Rock Light House. Come for the Views, Stay for the stories”.  We found some wonderful stories there indeed.   

 Dick hiked down to the beach to get the iconic photo of the lighthouse on its cliff 130 feet above the lake. 

Patti particularly appreciated the costumed reenactors inside the lighthouse keepers’ home who were busy cooking breakfast on the wood-burning stove.  Nothing like the smell of bacon to bring a place to life!

We reluctantly turned south off the North Shore, and retraced our steps through Duluth and then headed south to Minneapolis.

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.”
― Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad/Roughing It