Grand Marais is where the road runs out of tame country. The little harbour town, tucked into a natural bay on the Lake Superior shore with the pine-covered hills behind it, is the end of the North Shore Scenic Drive for most visitors, and it feels like an outpost, a place that has made peace with long winters and short summers. The name is French, and means great marsh, though no marsh is evident, and the town was first a fur-trading and fishing post. The population is about thirteen hundred, but in July it is full of tourists, painters, canoeists and walkers, all drawn by the wild country to the north.
The town has a genuine arts scene, with an art colony that has been running for decades and a folk school where people learn to build boats, carve spoons and weave baskets, and a good many galleries and studios. A short breakwater leads out to a small lighthouse, and a walk along it on a calm evening, with the lake lit up in pink and gold, is one of the pleasures of the coast. Artist Point, a rocky outcrop reached by a short path, gives a fine view of the shoreline and the islands.
From here the Gunflint Trail, a 57-mile road, runs north into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area, a vast wilderness of lakes, rivers and forests, where moose, wolves and loons live, and where canoeists spend days paddling and portaging. The road is a delightful ride, with curves and rises, and it passes small resorts and trailheads. Highway 61 continues north-east to the Canadian border, a quiet road with few services, and the traffic thins quickly.
Grand Marais has fuel, groceries, bakeries and cafes, and the smoked fish shops are worth a visit. Lake Superior's weather is unpredictable, and a warm afternoon can turn cold in minutes, so carry an extra layer. In autumn the hills glow, and the first snow can arrive as early as October. This is a fine place to finish a ride, with a cold beer or a hot coffee at a window facing the lake, and a long, quiet evening ahead.