The thing about taking the northern route around Lake Superior, going West, is that for so much of the drive, the lake is visible. When I drove east, I couldn’t crank my head around to see the vistas and enjoy the water. Going west, as I traveled downhill, there was a vast expanse of water on the horizon and it seemed surrealistically HIGH, deep turquoise ribbon pushing up against the sky. It was like looking at the mountains on one of those days when they are giants on the horizon. Rolling at 90 kms an hour down any of these hills, tall rock cliffs edging either side of the highway, made photography an impossibility. And now, writing about the beauty of it is equally frustrating. I pulled over and snapped this shot on one of the short flat places on that second morning. I had been in awe of the light, rock and water for about one hundred kilometers by this time.