Right next to the hotel I stayed in in Hinckley is the Golden Pine restaurant. It offers a brunch buffet on the weekends, and being Saturday morning, I stopped in to check it out. If I couldn’t tell by the accents, the presence of hot dish on the buffet was a sure sign that I was in northern Minnesota. Jah’ders and You Betchas aside, I was headed even further north today.
Hinckley is a town of 1400 people in nowhere in particular, MN. However, it has the trailhead to the Willard Munger trail, leading to Duluth some 70 miles away. The trail was fantastic, again an old railbed that has been recovered and paved for recreational usage. Even with the cool, wet weather, there were plenty of people along it. I was passed by one cyclist who rode along with me for a while before we got to his turn around point. I saw a pack of cyclists approaching, 8 members of a family out for a ride. There is one spot where the trail deviates from the old rail line as it curves around some woods and fields. That is the only spot on the trail where the grade gets above 3%, but for nice long stretches, it is as flat as one could wish for.
By the time I got to Moose Lake, I was ready for some lunch. My plan was to go the half mile off the trail to the Lake, eat on the shore then get back to the trail. I got off the trail and found a giant map of the area painted onto the side of a café. That was cool. As I got up to the lake I could hear the revving of engines ahead. Finally, I saw a park filled with people and some sort of watercraft race getting started on the water. I had gone in for a look, but was caught up to by a woman who informed me that it was $12 to get into the park today to watch the race. Since I have exactly zero interest in things with obnoxiously loud engines racing each other, I turned around and headed back towards the trail. I grabbed a couple slices of pizza at a place downtown then got back on the trail.
There was a spot further along where I was passed by a couple, I’d say in their late 40’s. They passed me, and for a good mile or so hung out a bit in front of me. But clearly they had put on speed to pass me, as their pedaling became more labored to keep up the pace. Soon enough with my steady speed, I passed them again and it was not long until they were out of sight behind me for good. I’m not racing you, I’m just able to keep up a 17mph pace even with my loaded bike for at least an hour without a break. At least on a surface like what I was riding over.
There were several periods of light rain throughout the day. The first was more like a cool mist that coalesced into drops big enough to be drawn down to the ground by gravity. The last was an actual light rain which came down hardest as I was crossing an old railroad bridge over the St. Louis River north of Carlton. But by the time I got into Duluth, the sun had broken through the clouds for the first time all day. I stopped at a roadside cart for some fried cheese curds. I have little doubt that in paradise they serve fried cheese curds to cyclists.
Leaving the Munger trail and a bit of the city’s Western Waterfront Trail behind, I took Highway 2 east to the William Bong Bridge. Crossing over a much wider part of the St. Louis River as it feeds into the harbor that makes up the world’s most inland port, I finally made it into the state of my birth, Wisconsin. Even though I lived in the state for more than 7 years over three different stints (though to be fair, I didn’t have much control over the first one from birth til not quite 2), I had never before seen Lake Superior. They call it a lake, but I think inland freshwater sea is a more fitting description. Only slightly smaller than the Caspian Sea, the lake contains enough water to cover the landmass of North and South America with a foot of water. Called Gichigami in Ojibwe, the earliest evidence of a human population around the lake dates back to the end of the last ice age. By the time French fur trappers arrived at the lake, it was known as Anishnaabe Gichgamiing or the Ojibwe’s Ocean. Anyway it is big.
Once I passed through the more industrial port part of town, I skirted along the northen end of the UW-Superior campus. There was a football game going on, which seemed slightly out of place. It’s June people, play baseball or basketball. I found a room for the night as the rain started again, and by the time I had forayed out to hunt for dinner it was coming down more heavily.
Here, google maps failed me. I had searched for restaurants and saw what appeared to be a local pizza joint. I walked the mile or so to where the map said it would be and found a railyard there instead. There was not only no pizza joint, but there was no possibility of a pizza place having been there. Disgruntled, I walked back up to the main street and into a bar. I ordered a draught Leinenkugel’s and was pleasantly surprised when the bartender asked for $1.95 in exchange. $2 pints quickly regruntled me. The pint and a shot of Maker’s Mark together were $5.70. After a couple rounds of these and a long conversation with a semi-believable local drunk (in which he was trying to hook me up with a rather embarrassed girl whom he had just met) I went back out into the rain. There was a Little Cesar’s in the same strip mall, and, still not having eaten anything, decided it was probably a good idea to get some food. I walked back to the motel room and evidently talked to Emily for at least half an hour (most of which I don’t remember). I then passed out with the pizza completely untouched and the TV still on. That’s what I get for mixing $2 beers with a completely empty stomach.
Day 37, Hinckley, MN – Superior, WI
79.6 miles today for 2647.7 total. 5:36:10 ridden today, 222:37:48 for the trip and top speed of 25.8.
Showing posts with label minnesota. Show all posts
Showing posts with label minnesota. Show all posts
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
Mile 2568.1 - Heading north again
Despite entreaties to stay longer, it was finally time to escape the gravitational pull of Minneapolis. Again with the awesome bike infrastructure. I started on the Midtown Greenway, an abandoned rail bed that has been changed into a cycling highway. It is fantastic. It is physically below most of the roads, so there are only a few street crossings, there were plenty of users, and there is both a bike shop and café that are accessible from the greenway. There was even one street crossing that the cars have a stop sign, but the cyclists do not. Yeah, right of way! Minnesoters, keep electing people who care about bikes, it really shows in your state.
The greenway took me to the west river parkway, and soon enough I was crossing the Stone Arch Bridge over the Mississippi again. I linked up to the Diagonal Trail leading out of St Paul, and then found several of the suburban streets I was traveling down had a separated bike path following alongside. Just outside White Bear Lake, in a municipality my phone claimed to be called Benson, I reached mile 2500 in just over 212 hours of riding. The map doesn’t show a Benson, but located me in the vague area around Bald Eagle Lake.
Taking 61 north, I passed into Chisago County. Sweet home, Chisago. Along the highway is a paved bike trail that isn’t on any of the three maps I had with me, but I took it anyway. In a town called Wyoming, I stopped at a gas station for a fluid refill. I pulled in behind two kids on bikes and as I was telling the guy behind the counter about my journey, the kids stood behind me, somewhat awestruck expressions on their faces. Riding the 45 miles between there and Minneapolis was probably a heroic feat to them, but that was just my morning.
Further along the road, as I was approaching Pine City, I saw a sign for roadside brats and pork chops. Sure enough, I got to the intersection of 61 and 70 and there were a couple canopies set up with a few tables and a grill. I stopped for a brat, which was really quite tasty and talked with a family for a while as we were eating. After answering several of the parents’ questions about the trip, they asked their son who was probably 5 or 6 if he understood what we were talking about. Once again, I wish I had a map of the country on me to show him. Regardless, the parents were impressed.
In Pine City, I came across an A & W and stopped in for a root beer. Few beverages rival a tall frosty mug of draught root beer.
Happily full of street brat and root beer, I continued up towards Hinckley as the sun was getting lower in the sky. Several miles later, I hit the day’s major obstacle. At Minnesota Highway 23, County 61 crosses over Interstate 35. I was within 4 miles of town and needed only to cross the bridge over the interstate to finish those miles. The bridge, however, was not there. They were reconstructing the bridge and were at the point of pouring giant slabs of concrete over the grid of steel rebar. But there was just no way for a bike to get across there. I looked at the maps on my gps and phone, and estimated that the unpaved roads on this side of the interstate would take 8 miles longer to town. I really didn’t feel like 8 miles of unpaved road was in order for the evening. So, grumbling, I rode down the entrance ramp, past the sign saying bicycles were prohibited, and onto the freeway.
The interstate would have been the most direct way into town, getting there in about 3 miles, but I didn’t want to risk it. I wanted to just get across, up the exit ramp and continue on 61 into town. Getting across the northbound side was no problem at all, there wasn’t a car in sight from that direction. The problem was that the median was a low drainage ditch with brackish water several inches deep and a couple feet across. By myself, I could have easily jumped over it, but I can’t jump as far carrying a 65lb bike. I should try sometime and see if I can jump while holding her at all. I walked along the median, looking for a place to ford across. Finally, maybe a quarter mile from where I had started, I found a spot where there was no standing water, just a dark, sucking mud. I pushed Penny across and up onto the pavement on the other side. Circling back, I made it up the ramp and was back on my way into Hinckley.
I opted for a room rather than the tent, got some unsatisfying dinner from the white castle next door, and bunkered down for what turned out to be a mostly sleepless night. It was well past 4:30 when I finally got to sleep but was up again before 9. Sigh.
Day 36, Minneapolis, MN – Hinckley, MN
97.1 miles in a cool time 7:07:07. Now up to 2568.1 miles in 217:01:38 and today’s high speed was 25.1
The greenway took me to the west river parkway, and soon enough I was crossing the Stone Arch Bridge over the Mississippi again. I linked up to the Diagonal Trail leading out of St Paul, and then found several of the suburban streets I was traveling down had a separated bike path following alongside. Just outside White Bear Lake, in a municipality my phone claimed to be called Benson, I reached mile 2500 in just over 212 hours of riding. The map doesn’t show a Benson, but located me in the vague area around Bald Eagle Lake.
Taking 61 north, I passed into Chisago County. Sweet home, Chisago. Along the highway is a paved bike trail that isn’t on any of the three maps I had with me, but I took it anyway. In a town called Wyoming, I stopped at a gas station for a fluid refill. I pulled in behind two kids on bikes and as I was telling the guy behind the counter about my journey, the kids stood behind me, somewhat awestruck expressions on their faces. Riding the 45 miles between there and Minneapolis was probably a heroic feat to them, but that was just my morning.
Further along the road, as I was approaching Pine City, I saw a sign for roadside brats and pork chops. Sure enough, I got to the intersection of 61 and 70 and there were a couple canopies set up with a few tables and a grill. I stopped for a brat, which was really quite tasty and talked with a family for a while as we were eating. After answering several of the parents’ questions about the trip, they asked their son who was probably 5 or 6 if he understood what we were talking about. Once again, I wish I had a map of the country on me to show him. Regardless, the parents were impressed.
In Pine City, I came across an A & W and stopped in for a root beer. Few beverages rival a tall frosty mug of draught root beer.
Happily full of street brat and root beer, I continued up towards Hinckley as the sun was getting lower in the sky. Several miles later, I hit the day’s major obstacle. At Minnesota Highway 23, County 61 crosses over Interstate 35. I was within 4 miles of town and needed only to cross the bridge over the interstate to finish those miles. The bridge, however, was not there. They were reconstructing the bridge and were at the point of pouring giant slabs of concrete over the grid of steel rebar. But there was just no way for a bike to get across there. I looked at the maps on my gps and phone, and estimated that the unpaved roads on this side of the interstate would take 8 miles longer to town. I really didn’t feel like 8 miles of unpaved road was in order for the evening. So, grumbling, I rode down the entrance ramp, past the sign saying bicycles were prohibited, and onto the freeway.
The interstate would have been the most direct way into town, getting there in about 3 miles, but I didn’t want to risk it. I wanted to just get across, up the exit ramp and continue on 61 into town. Getting across the northbound side was no problem at all, there wasn’t a car in sight from that direction. The problem was that the median was a low drainage ditch with brackish water several inches deep and a couple feet across. By myself, I could have easily jumped over it, but I can’t jump as far carrying a 65lb bike. I should try sometime and see if I can jump while holding her at all. I walked along the median, looking for a place to ford across. Finally, maybe a quarter mile from where I had started, I found a spot where there was no standing water, just a dark, sucking mud. I pushed Penny across and up onto the pavement on the other side. Circling back, I made it up the ramp and was back on my way into Hinckley.
I opted for a room rather than the tent, got some unsatisfying dinner from the white castle next door, and bunkered down for what turned out to be a mostly sleepless night. It was well past 4:30 when I finally got to sleep but was up again before 9. Sigh.
Day 36, Minneapolis, MN – Hinckley, MN
97.1 miles in a cool time 7:07:07. Now up to 2568.1 miles in 217:01:38 and today’s high speed was 25.1
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Mile 2471.0 - Time off in the twin cities
Days 33 – 35 were all spent within the Minneapolis metro area. I spent Tuesday night with John and Shelley again, then Wednesday and Thursday nights I stayed with Cynthia in her new apartment. She moved in so recently, in fact, that all her stuff was in the living room and I got to help prime the walls of her bedroom. The previous occupants had decorated the room with some poorly executed graffiti, and it took a couple coats of primer to make sure it wouldn’t sneak through the paint that was to go on. On the ride between the friends’ respective places, I swung by the Minnesota State Capitol building, don’cha know.
I offered to make dinner for Cynthia and her three housemates, so Cynthia took me down to The Wedge, the local food co-op. That place was fantastic, and totally where I would do my shopping if I lived nearby. I may have been showing off slightly, I made crepes layered with vegetables and cheese then rolled up along with a quinoa salad and my favorite way to prepare Brussels sprouts. I know they aren’t in season for another 3-4 months, but they taste so good.
Cynthia lives almost directly between the Minneapolis Institute of Arts and the Walker Sculpture Garden, so on Thursday I went to both.
There’s not a whole lot else of interest to report from these days, other than I continue to be impressed with the bike culture + infrastructure of the Twin Cities, yet I still saw cyclists on the sidewalk. Sidewalks are only for pedestrians, everyone is safer that way.
Days 33-35, Roseville, MN – Minneapolis MN
29.1 miles in 2:11:44. New trip totals: 2471.0 miles in 209:55:31 and a high speed of 29.1mph
I offered to make dinner for Cynthia and her three housemates, so Cynthia took me down to The Wedge, the local food co-op. That place was fantastic, and totally where I would do my shopping if I lived nearby. I may have been showing off slightly, I made crepes layered with vegetables and cheese then rolled up along with a quinoa salad and my favorite way to prepare Brussels sprouts. I know they aren’t in season for another 3-4 months, but they taste so good.
Cynthia lives almost directly between the Minneapolis Institute of Arts and the Walker Sculpture Garden, so on Thursday I went to both.
There’s not a whole lot else of interest to report from these days, other than I continue to be impressed with the bike culture + infrastructure of the Twin Cities, yet I still saw cyclists on the sidewalk. Sidewalks are only for pedestrians, everyone is safer that way.
Days 33-35, Roseville, MN – Minneapolis MN
29.1 miles in 2:11:44. New trip totals: 2471.0 miles in 209:55:31 and a high speed of 29.1mph
Monday, May 31, 2010
Mile 2441.9 - Bike infrastructure in Minnesota
Day 32 started with breakfast largely composed of the same items I had made dinner out of the night before. I heated some tortillas, scrambled eggs with garlic, tomato and cheese and rounded it out with a banana and some yogurt. I can't complain, I make a pretty fantastic breakfast.
The Luce Line Trial through Hutchinson is paved, which is nice and follows the Crow River, which is pretty. All in all, a good trail through town, though once you get outside of town, the pavement reverts to crushed aggregate rock. On one hand, nice trail going through pastures and fields. On the other hand, you just cannot go a fast on a gravel road as on pavement. That's why highways tend to be paved. Maybe one day the demand and funding will be there. What certainly was there were other users. Familes, couples, single riders, people walking their dogs or out for a jog, with a pleasing range of ages and ethnicities. I'm getting a bit ahead of myself in the post, but by the time I got to John and Shelley's place at the end of the day, I had seen more people on bikes than probably the entire route back to the American River Trail in California, if not the whole way to San Fransisco. This is very exciting to me and makes me love upper-midwesterners even more. There were so many, that I soon stopped waving at them all.
Soon after a quick break in Waterville to dump some empty gatorade bottles, a woman pulled up alongside me on a bike and asked how far I was going. This was Michelle, and we rode together for about the next 20 miles. She had a lot of questions, and answering them made the miles go by faster. Weather-wise it was, we both remarked, the absolutely perfect upper-midwestern Memorial Day. 78 degrees or so with a light breeze out of the west and brilliant sunshine. The perfect day to go for a bike ride.
Reaching Plymouth, she left at the parking lot where her car was waiting. I followed the path forward, stopping at a beach off of Medicine Lake. After a quick break, I followed the trail along to where it meets the Cedar Lake Trail, which I took all the way to where it ends in front of Target Field. Too bad the Twins just started a week-long road trip with a visit to Seattle. Then, I got a little lost following bike routes to what I thought was the river. Eventually I found my way to the Stone Arch Bridge, one of the first to cross the Mississippi this far up.
Mile 2431.5 was another one of those momentous occasions on this trip: I crossed the Mississippi River. Unlike reaching Carson Pass or the Continental Divide where there was only the occasional car around, this bridge was closed to motor traffic, but had lots of pedestrians and a fair number of other cyclists. I then entered St Paul and somehow made a wrong turn and soon found myself on the Hennepin Bridge crossing over the Mississippi again. That can't be right. I rode forward another block, recognized the buildings in front of me as clearly Minneapolis and turned around to cross the river a third time. Going past the campus of the University of Minnesota, I soon came to Roseville, where my friends John and Shelley live with their 4 month old daughter, Katie. She is a very small person.
It was nice to end a day among friends, people who I have known for almost a decade now. It was also nice that I got to spend almost all of my miles today on bike trail or in a bike lane. Also, since I was slowing down for the reunion in Appleton, I knew that the next several days would be spent relaxing, any riding I would do would just be around town until I left for Duluth on Thursday or Friday. We grilled up some steaks with corn and potato salad and were enjoying a nice dinner until Katie woke up and decided she needed to be fed right that moment. I look forward to seeing her again in the future, when her communication with the world has become more complex than smiling or crying.
Day 32, Hutchinson, MN - Roseville, MN
76.0 miles in 6:23:06. The totals are now 2441.9 in 207:33:47 and I got up to 23.1mph today
The Luce Line Trial through Hutchinson is paved, which is nice and follows the Crow River, which is pretty. All in all, a good trail through town, though once you get outside of town, the pavement reverts to crushed aggregate rock. On one hand, nice trail going through pastures and fields. On the other hand, you just cannot go a fast on a gravel road as on pavement. That's why highways tend to be paved. Maybe one day the demand and funding will be there. What certainly was there were other users. Familes, couples, single riders, people walking their dogs or out for a jog, with a pleasing range of ages and ethnicities. I'm getting a bit ahead of myself in the post, but by the time I got to John and Shelley's place at the end of the day, I had seen more people on bikes than probably the entire route back to the American River Trail in California, if not the whole way to San Fransisco. This is very exciting to me and makes me love upper-midwesterners even more. There were so many, that I soon stopped waving at them all.
Soon after a quick break in Waterville to dump some empty gatorade bottles, a woman pulled up alongside me on a bike and asked how far I was going. This was Michelle, and we rode together for about the next 20 miles. She had a lot of questions, and answering them made the miles go by faster. Weather-wise it was, we both remarked, the absolutely perfect upper-midwestern Memorial Day. 78 degrees or so with a light breeze out of the west and brilliant sunshine. The perfect day to go for a bike ride.
Reaching Plymouth, she left at the parking lot where her car was waiting. I followed the path forward, stopping at a beach off of Medicine Lake. After a quick break, I followed the trail along to where it meets the Cedar Lake Trail, which I took all the way to where it ends in front of Target Field. Too bad the Twins just started a week-long road trip with a visit to Seattle. Then, I got a little lost following bike routes to what I thought was the river. Eventually I found my way to the Stone Arch Bridge, one of the first to cross the Mississippi this far up.
Mile 2431.5 was another one of those momentous occasions on this trip: I crossed the Mississippi River. Unlike reaching Carson Pass or the Continental Divide where there was only the occasional car around, this bridge was closed to motor traffic, but had lots of pedestrians and a fair number of other cyclists. I then entered St Paul and somehow made a wrong turn and soon found myself on the Hennepin Bridge crossing over the Mississippi again. That can't be right. I rode forward another block, recognized the buildings in front of me as clearly Minneapolis and turned around to cross the river a third time. Going past the campus of the University of Minnesota, I soon came to Roseville, where my friends John and Shelley live with their 4 month old daughter, Katie. She is a very small person.
It was nice to end a day among friends, people who I have known for almost a decade now. It was also nice that I got to spend almost all of my miles today on bike trail or in a bike lane. Also, since I was slowing down for the reunion in Appleton, I knew that the next several days would be spent relaxing, any riding I would do would just be around town until I left for Duluth on Thursday or Friday. We grilled up some steaks with corn and potato salad and were enjoying a nice dinner until Katie woke up and decided she needed to be fed right that moment. I look forward to seeing her again in the future, when her communication with the world has become more complex than smiling or crying.
Day 32, Hutchinson, MN - Roseville, MN
76.0 miles in 6:23:06. The totals are now 2441.9 in 207:33:47 and I got up to 23.1mph today
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Mile 2365.9 - More Minnesoter
Day 31. My aim today was fairly modest, going about 65 miles up to Hutchinson where I could connect with the Luce Line Path, an old rail to trail that would take me to the suburbs of the Twin Cities. I went to the country kitchen for breakfast after I woke up, but only kinda poked at it for a while. Apparently, several people had called out of work that morning, including the host. Seeing as it was the sunday of memorial day weekend, they were expecting to be busy once the early church crowd started rolling in. I jokingly offered to host myself, but I didn't have right clothes to wear. One of the waitresses said she could find me something, but I eventually paid up and left. Because I didn't have to go far, I got a pretty late state on the day.
I took 71 out of town as Renee had suggested and soon crossed the Minnesota River. The rivers banks were being patrolled by several large birds of prey. After about 15 miles later and well after I left the wide highway for a narrow county road, I came to the Martinsburg Town Hall. The town hall was at an intersection surrounded by fields. I could see some farmhouses around in the distance, but it was a lone building without even a gravel driveway. There was a little 4'x4' cement block in front of the door to this prefab building that was smaller than my studio in Bed-Stuy was. Looking inside there was a table with six chairs around, a couple chairs against the far wall, and a couple bare flag poles in the corners. It was a perfect place to take a break. I sat on the concrete step and ate, admiring the even rows of the spinach field to my left.
A couple clear landscape changes had occurred. First, I was frequently crossing streams and rivers or following the shore of a small lake. A far cry from Nevada or Utah. Second, by now the ranchlands of even central South Dakota had been replaced by the grain farms of the upper-midwest. I was passing not only fields of newly growing wheat, corn and soybeans, but other crops as well, spinach and turnips and what I believe was barley. Between that and what appeared to be wild hops growing on the roadside at one point, I was reminded that there is not an ingredient in beer that wouldn't happily grow in the these soils. Also, the horse and dairy farms were now also interspersed with long, low hog barns. They do not smell as nice as the open dairy pastures.
I made my way to the next town, Buffalo Lake, and I found myself wishing I had finished all of my breakfast. I stopped into a small restaurant called Southern Charm. South of what, I'm not quite sure. Canada, maybe? Brainerd? Anyway, I went in and met Ken, the only other person in the joint. He cooked my lunch then came out and made a slight show of cleaning before just sitting down at my table to talk. We discussed the economy of restaurants, suppliers in small towns, and how a business and a family take precedence over personal goals. Leaving, I thanked him and told him that the next time I'm in town I'll stop in again, but that may not be for several years.
The first sign I was coming into Hutchinson was coming over a hill and seeing a Target and a Menards across the highway from each other. I went a mile past that and sat under the roof of some covered picnic tables in Legion Park. I looked up exactly where the Luce Line went through town, right along the Crow River, and saw that there was a park it went through that allowed overnight camping. I rode down to the Mason park, scoped out a spot, then turned around and went back a little ways to a grocery store I had passed. I actually bought more food than I probably needed, knowing the next night I would be in the Twin Cities and staying with friends. Oh well. I went back to the park, pitched the tent and made dinner just before sunset. I had picked up some eggs, cheese, tomatoes and garlic, and made myself a nice fritatta over the camp stove. I should have grabbed green onion, jalapeno, and maybe some thyme. It was nice to eat something that resembled my own cooking again, though it did make me miss the comforts of my own kitchen.
Day 31, Redwood Falls, MN - Hutchinson, MN
66.49 miles, for 2365.9 total. 5:12:38 today for a total of 201:10:41 and a high speed of 31.6
I took 71 out of town as Renee had suggested and soon crossed the Minnesota River. The rivers banks were being patrolled by several large birds of prey. After about 15 miles later and well after I left the wide highway for a narrow county road, I came to the Martinsburg Town Hall. The town hall was at an intersection surrounded by fields. I could see some farmhouses around in the distance, but it was a lone building without even a gravel driveway. There was a little 4'x4' cement block in front of the door to this prefab building that was smaller than my studio in Bed-Stuy was. Looking inside there was a table with six chairs around, a couple chairs against the far wall, and a couple bare flag poles in the corners. It was a perfect place to take a break. I sat on the concrete step and ate, admiring the even rows of the spinach field to my left.
A couple clear landscape changes had occurred. First, I was frequently crossing streams and rivers or following the shore of a small lake. A far cry from Nevada or Utah. Second, by now the ranchlands of even central South Dakota had been replaced by the grain farms of the upper-midwest. I was passing not only fields of newly growing wheat, corn and soybeans, but other crops as well, spinach and turnips and what I believe was barley. Between that and what appeared to be wild hops growing on the roadside at one point, I was reminded that there is not an ingredient in beer that wouldn't happily grow in the these soils. Also, the horse and dairy farms were now also interspersed with long, low hog barns. They do not smell as nice as the open dairy pastures.
I made my way to the next town, Buffalo Lake, and I found myself wishing I had finished all of my breakfast. I stopped into a small restaurant called Southern Charm. South of what, I'm not quite sure. Canada, maybe? Brainerd? Anyway, I went in and met Ken, the only other person in the joint. He cooked my lunch then came out and made a slight show of cleaning before just sitting down at my table to talk. We discussed the economy of restaurants, suppliers in small towns, and how a business and a family take precedence over personal goals. Leaving, I thanked him and told him that the next time I'm in town I'll stop in again, but that may not be for several years.
The first sign I was coming into Hutchinson was coming over a hill and seeing a Target and a Menards across the highway from each other. I went a mile past that and sat under the roof of some covered picnic tables in Legion Park. I looked up exactly where the Luce Line went through town, right along the Crow River, and saw that there was a park it went through that allowed overnight camping. I rode down to the Mason park, scoped out a spot, then turned around and went back a little ways to a grocery store I had passed. I actually bought more food than I probably needed, knowing the next night I would be in the Twin Cities and staying with friends. Oh well. I went back to the park, pitched the tent and made dinner just before sunset. I had picked up some eggs, cheese, tomatoes and garlic, and made myself a nice fritatta over the camp stove. I should have grabbed green onion, jalapeno, and maybe some thyme. It was nice to eat something that resembled my own cooking again, though it did make me miss the comforts of my own kitchen.
Day 31, Redwood Falls, MN - Hutchinson, MN
66.49 miles, for 2365.9 total. 5:12:38 today for a total of 201:10:41 and a high speed of 31.6
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Mile 2299.41 – Oh jah, there hey, doncha know?
Day 30 started near the South Dakota/Minnesota state line. I say near, because while I slept within 4 geographical miles of the state line, the road took another 7.5 to get there. For breakfast I finished off the bison sausage I had picked up leaving the black hills and mopped it up with a loaf of day old jimmy johns bread.
The road continued east until about a mile and a half before the state line, where it swung south into the teeth of the wind. The next couple miles went rather slowly, but I got to watch a parade of cars from the 50's drive towards Minnesota. I was now starting to enter a vast field of wind turbines, dozens of them spanning from slightly northwest of me all across the eastern horizon, ending not quite south of me. As I said before, if I lived around here, I'd have a wind farm, and here, clearly, were people who agreed with me. It was a beautiful sight if you're into that kind of thing, and I am into that kind of thing. I would take a horizon filled with green pastures lined with turbines than a single coal plant spewing its fumes into the sky.
Just before the state line, there are a couple historical marker signs on the South Dakota side. One lists a series of historical personages and events in the state, the other extols the virtues of South Dakota on one side and sites the natural beauty, wealth of resources, and 'cheerful citizenry' of Minnesota on the other. I may be wrong, but I think that last bit was meant to be mildly insulting.
At mile 2223.51, I officially crossed into Minnesoter. Seeing as I was born in Wisconsin and grew up in Illinois and that I probably spent more time in Minnesota than any other state I've never lived in (well, maybe that's Virginia or Pennsylvania, but it's close), I felt like I was coming home. I understand the landscape, I understand the people, and, after I got a little bit further into the state and started to encounter hills and trees, the wind even went back to what I consider normal, blowing out of the west. Oh, upper midwest, how I've missed you.
The first town you come to entering Minnesota on US 14 is Lake Breton. First town I see, first lake I see. I climbed the hill, and passed a little Memorial Day weekend musicfest that looked like it wouldn't get started for another couple hours. The next town I came to was Tyler, and I stopped at one of the two gas stations in town to refill the fluids. Immediately, the conversation in the station turned to cycling, and the four or five guys there were all impressed with my voyage. One of them, a guy around my age who I definitely would have considered sketchy if I was a female, invited me up to his place 10 miles north of town for some beers. I thanked him, but said I wanted to get to Redwood Falls by the end of the day, so I didn't really have time. Yeah, thanks but no thanks.
According to the Minnesoter Bike Map, the stretch of Highway 23 between Florence and Marshall has a paved 6' shoulder the whole length. What the map doesn't show is that between Lynd and Marshall it's all under construction. what is normally a 4 lane divided highway shares the southbound lanes and the shoulder I was riding on was the narrow center margin. Thankfully, the traffic was going pretty slowly. Coming into Marshall, I had the option of following 23 around town to where it hits 19, or going through town and picking up the highway as it makes its way downtown. I got to an intersection leading into town and saw the bike path. I didn't even have to look at the several more miles of construction on 23 to decide.
I had lunch in Marshall, home of Southern Minnesota State University, (go Fighting Smooses!) though was disappointed to see that the post office's Saturday window hours were 9-11. What, exactly, is the point of that? Who is this target audience that is sending post at 10:30, but has disappeared by 1? Looking on the clock on the wall, I was there at 12:45, a totally reasonable time for a post office to be open. Seeing as I was now enjoying my second day with temperatures in the low 90s, I figured I didn't really need the fleece or heavy gloves anymore, plus there was a growing collection of maps, brochures and receipts I wanted to keep but not necessarily on me. Since it was a holiday weekend, I now wouldn't be able to shed the extra bulk until Tuesday.
I followed 19 into Redwood Falls. My friend John, with whom I would be staying in the Twin Cities, recommended the town as a good place to stop and told me to check out Ramsey Park, the largest municipal park in the state. I got into town and saw a little park by the river. It was cute, so I took a couple pictures, then went forward in search of a room and dinner. The first motel I came to advertised rooms for $37, which sounded good to me. I dropped the stuff in the room, took a quick shower, then walked out in search of dinner. Passing a liquor store on the way, I restocked my dwindling supply of whiskey. After dinner, I was sitting in the room watching the first game of the Stanley Cup playoffs (the Chicago team is in, so I'll watch it). I noticed a change of color in the sky and decided that my time would be better spent watching the sun set down by the river than sitting in a cramped motel room watching hockey. I emptied the clothes pannier, threw in a bottle of coke and some bug spray and went up to the park. There were a couple nice winding hills leading to the park and I got to pass a car going down, which I always enjoy.
Into the park, I came to a bridge going over the river. There was a man and a couple of boys fishing from it, and when I slowed to take a picture of the scene, one of the boys came over towards me asking about the flashing light on the back of my helmet. I took the helmet off and showed him and that is how I met Matthew, his father Barry (and a while later, mother Renee) and the other boy who's name no one knew. In the course of talking to them about my trip and fielding a number of questions from Matthew, Barry's line went taught. The handed the pole to his son and coached him in reeling in the fish. This process gathered a small crowd. After several minutes of struggling, the boy outlasted the fish's strength, and up from the water came a two pound catfish. After some time was spent in unhooking and trying to weigh the fish, Barry finally threw it back in. I advised it to swim upstream and not hang out around any bridges.
By this point the sun had well set, and Barry invited me back to their campsite. I really wish I had gone to the park before I found the motel room, as there was plenty of room for a tent among the campers and there was plenty of good company around. I sat talking to the family for a couple of hours, having s'mores trying to keep out of the path of smoke coming up from the campfire. It was exactly the kind of interaction that I was hoping for when the trip began, meeting a great family from a small town I otherwise would never have met. Oh, and Barry, go to Sioux River Bikes in Brookings, find Rob and tell him I sent you. He'll make sure you walk out with the right bike for you.
One of the things we discussed was all the time I had to get to my college reunion in Appleton. It starts on June 18th, nearly three weeks away, and in that time I could ostensibly make it back to Utah or down to Louisiana. Making Appleton, about 450 miles away, would be no problem. Renee suggested I go up to Duluth. It was a great idea. Even though I had lived in Wisconsin for 7 years, I had never seen Lake Superior. I think that's a brilliant way to kill some time in this part of the country. Renee also gave me directions for the best route to Hutchinson, where I wanted to end up the next night. At last, it was time to go back up to the motel and pretend to get some sleep. But I felt like this was another successful day.
Day 30, Camp 10 miles east of Brookings, SD - Redwood Falls, MN
91.4 miles bringing me up to 2299.41 for the trip. I rode 7:17:39 for a total of 195:58:03 and a top speed of 29.9 mph.
The road continued east until about a mile and a half before the state line, where it swung south into the teeth of the wind. The next couple miles went rather slowly, but I got to watch a parade of cars from the 50's drive towards Minnesota. I was now starting to enter a vast field of wind turbines, dozens of them spanning from slightly northwest of me all across the eastern horizon, ending not quite south of me. As I said before, if I lived around here, I'd have a wind farm, and here, clearly, were people who agreed with me. It was a beautiful sight if you're into that kind of thing, and I am into that kind of thing. I would take a horizon filled with green pastures lined with turbines than a single coal plant spewing its fumes into the sky.
Just before the state line, there are a couple historical marker signs on the South Dakota side. One lists a series of historical personages and events in the state, the other extols the virtues of South Dakota on one side and sites the natural beauty, wealth of resources, and 'cheerful citizenry' of Minnesota on the other. I may be wrong, but I think that last bit was meant to be mildly insulting.
At mile 2223.51, I officially crossed into Minnesoter. Seeing as I was born in Wisconsin and grew up in Illinois and that I probably spent more time in Minnesota than any other state I've never lived in (well, maybe that's Virginia or Pennsylvania, but it's close), I felt like I was coming home. I understand the landscape, I understand the people, and, after I got a little bit further into the state and started to encounter hills and trees, the wind even went back to what I consider normal, blowing out of the west. Oh, upper midwest, how I've missed you.
The first town you come to entering Minnesota on US 14 is Lake Breton. First town I see, first lake I see. I climbed the hill, and passed a little Memorial Day weekend musicfest that looked like it wouldn't get started for another couple hours. The next town I came to was Tyler, and I stopped at one of the two gas stations in town to refill the fluids. Immediately, the conversation in the station turned to cycling, and the four or five guys there were all impressed with my voyage. One of them, a guy around my age who I definitely would have considered sketchy if I was a female, invited me up to his place 10 miles north of town for some beers. I thanked him, but said I wanted to get to Redwood Falls by the end of the day, so I didn't really have time. Yeah, thanks but no thanks.
According to the Minnesoter Bike Map, the stretch of Highway 23 between Florence and Marshall has a paved 6' shoulder the whole length. What the map doesn't show is that between Lynd and Marshall it's all under construction. what is normally a 4 lane divided highway shares the southbound lanes and the shoulder I was riding on was the narrow center margin. Thankfully, the traffic was going pretty slowly. Coming into Marshall, I had the option of following 23 around town to where it hits 19, or going through town and picking up the highway as it makes its way downtown. I got to an intersection leading into town and saw the bike path. I didn't even have to look at the several more miles of construction on 23 to decide.
I had lunch in Marshall, home of Southern Minnesota State University, (go Fighting Smooses!) though was disappointed to see that the post office's Saturday window hours were 9-11. What, exactly, is the point of that? Who is this target audience that is sending post at 10:30, but has disappeared by 1? Looking on the clock on the wall, I was there at 12:45, a totally reasonable time for a post office to be open. Seeing as I was now enjoying my second day with temperatures in the low 90s, I figured I didn't really need the fleece or heavy gloves anymore, plus there was a growing collection of maps, brochures and receipts I wanted to keep but not necessarily on me. Since it was a holiday weekend, I now wouldn't be able to shed the extra bulk until Tuesday.
I followed 19 into Redwood Falls. My friend John, with whom I would be staying in the Twin Cities, recommended the town as a good place to stop and told me to check out Ramsey Park, the largest municipal park in the state. I got into town and saw a little park by the river. It was cute, so I took a couple pictures, then went forward in search of a room and dinner. The first motel I came to advertised rooms for $37, which sounded good to me. I dropped the stuff in the room, took a quick shower, then walked out in search of dinner. Passing a liquor store on the way, I restocked my dwindling supply of whiskey. After dinner, I was sitting in the room watching the first game of the Stanley Cup playoffs (the Chicago team is in, so I'll watch it). I noticed a change of color in the sky and decided that my time would be better spent watching the sun set down by the river than sitting in a cramped motel room watching hockey. I emptied the clothes pannier, threw in a bottle of coke and some bug spray and went up to the park. There were a couple nice winding hills leading to the park and I got to pass a car going down, which I always enjoy.
Into the park, I came to a bridge going over the river. There was a man and a couple of boys fishing from it, and when I slowed to take a picture of the scene, one of the boys came over towards me asking about the flashing light on the back of my helmet. I took the helmet off and showed him and that is how I met Matthew, his father Barry (and a while later, mother Renee) and the other boy who's name no one knew. In the course of talking to them about my trip and fielding a number of questions from Matthew, Barry's line went taught. The handed the pole to his son and coached him in reeling in the fish. This process gathered a small crowd. After several minutes of struggling, the boy outlasted the fish's strength, and up from the water came a two pound catfish. After some time was spent in unhooking and trying to weigh the fish, Barry finally threw it back in. I advised it to swim upstream and not hang out around any bridges.
By this point the sun had well set, and Barry invited me back to their campsite. I really wish I had gone to the park before I found the motel room, as there was plenty of room for a tent among the campers and there was plenty of good company around. I sat talking to the family for a couple of hours, having s'mores trying to keep out of the path of smoke coming up from the campfire. It was exactly the kind of interaction that I was hoping for when the trip began, meeting a great family from a small town I otherwise would never have met. Oh, and Barry, go to Sioux River Bikes in Brookings, find Rob and tell him I sent you. He'll make sure you walk out with the right bike for you.
One of the things we discussed was all the time I had to get to my college reunion in Appleton. It starts on June 18th, nearly three weeks away, and in that time I could ostensibly make it back to Utah or down to Louisiana. Making Appleton, about 450 miles away, would be no problem. Renee suggested I go up to Duluth. It was a great idea. Even though I had lived in Wisconsin for 7 years, I had never seen Lake Superior. I think that's a brilliant way to kill some time in this part of the country. Renee also gave me directions for the best route to Hutchinson, where I wanted to end up the next night. At last, it was time to go back up to the motel and pretend to get some sleep. But I felt like this was another successful day.
Day 30, Camp 10 miles east of Brookings, SD - Redwood Falls, MN
91.4 miles bringing me up to 2299.41 for the trip. I rode 7:17:39 for a total of 195:58:03 and a top speed of 29.9 mph.
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