I set off from Duluth around noon, after a jet-black pint of oat ale and a smoked (local) trout salad at the pub, and it’s taken me 4 hours to make a 2 hour trip to Grand Marais, due to all the interesting stuff I ran across. Highway 61 (yes the very one) all the way and it runs along the north shore of Lake Superior (which, by the way, and unlike say, Lake Michigan, is cold all year). Good music on radio all the way.
“…But the second mother was with the seventh son
And they were both out on Highway 61.”