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
Showing posts with label week 5. Show all posts
Showing posts with label week 5. Show all posts
Thursday, June 3, 2010
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.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Mile 2208.01 – Riding the same miles in my own shoes
One other thing about Day 27, I passed two of the worst smelling cattle ranches I’ve yet been past. Since I was riding into the wind, I picked up the smell a good mile before I got to the source. Where the other cattle ranches I’d passed were wide, green ranges of pasture for the cows to graze on, these two, within a couple minutes of each other, had scores of cows in a relatively small enclosure, living on a large pile of mud and feces and eating out of a trough. I understand that for cost-effectiveness, this is a much cheaper way to raise stock. But a cow is still a life, and the cows able to roam a bit and graze seemed much happier.
Anyway, onto Day 29.
I woke up in Huron, in the motel that stands in the shadow of the world’s largest pheasant. It was carved in the 50’s and serves as both a symbol and landmark for the town of Huron. I packed up Penny and prepared to ride the same road I had driven the day before. Since I had reconnoitered the route the day before, I knew I had about 18 miles of 6’ paved shoulder out of town, followed by the 2’ paved + 4’ unpaved shoulder for the following 35 miles. I also figured that De Smet would be a good place to stop for lunch. I was back in a part of the country were the towns were placed along the road usually 6-14 miles apart. This is much better than those places where I’d ride 70-80 miles between towns.
While there was the same 15mph headwind most of the day, my morning was going pretty quickly. I was saddened a bit to leave the comfortable 6’ paved shoulder, the traffic was light enough to not be a major issue once the shoulder narrowed.
De Smet, SD, is the town Laura Ingalls Wilder lived in as a girl and is the setting for her series of Little House books. I could tell that because a good 5 miles outside of town, I started seeing her name all over the place. I crossed into town, and there on the corner of US 14 and Laura St is the Laura Ingalls Wilder School. There are a half a dozen Ingalls locations in and around town, though if you follow the sign that says Ingalls Wilder tours, 4 blocks, it leads you to another sign takes you another three blocks, then turns again and you end up, not at the Wilder House or the Ingalls Homestead, but at the gift shop. I did not go in. I did stop at the Silver Lake Prairie View spot to admire the view.
I also stopped at the dairy queen in town for lunch, striking up a conversation with a couple of guys about cycling and wind power. There’s got to be a solution to the infrastructure issues in the state, and unlike coal and natural gas in Wyoming, the wind in South Dakota is never going to run out. I hope you guys figure it out, because it’s a fantastic resource that is really underutilized.
Speaking of wind, about an hour after I left De Smet, I was riding along into the wind, and, suddenly, the wind seemed to forget about me. It took only a few seconds to realize that the resistance I dealt with all day had slacked, I popped the chain down several gears, lowered my head and sped forth. I picked up 7-8 mph from the wind stopping alone. Sadly, this lasted only 15 minutes or so, then the wind remembered that I was there and then tried to overcompensate for how easy my last 15 minutes were.
As the day pressed on, I took a few breaks, stopping in the large Lake Preston City Park that was peopled only by myself and a couple grounds keepers. I stopped again by a roadside lake and finished the last of the pistachios I had brought from New York. Finally, I hit the split of where 14 continues into Brookings and the 14 bypass swings around north. I headed into town, passing a couple kids on bikes on the way.
I got back to Main and went the block up to Sioux River bikes to show off Penny fully loaded. Unfortunately, they close at 6 and it was now 6:14. Oh well. I took a quick picture of Penny outside the shop. But people, go to Brookings and stop in at Sioux River Bikes and get yourself a new bike. You deserve it, don’t you?
I crossed town on 14 and stopped in at Jimmy Johns again for dinner. What can I say, it’s something I can’t get at home. Then, since there was still a good hour before sunset and I had only 18 miles to go before the Minnesota border, I wanted to press on. Just after crossing interstate 29 just east of town, I reached mile 2200 for the trip. Woo hoo.
I went another 8 miles, then found a perfect spot to camp off the highway in the corner of an empty field, shielded from the traffic by a large tree and tall grass. I could see the wind farm on the horizon that signaled the line between the states. I knew it would not be long in the morning before I got there.
Day 29 – Huron, SD to Camp 10 miles east of Brookings, SD
88.01 miles in 7:51:43. Totals: 2208.01 in 188:39:24 and a high speed today of 21.6mph
Anyway, onto Day 29.
I woke up in Huron, in the motel that stands in the shadow of the world’s largest pheasant. It was carved in the 50’s and serves as both a symbol and landmark for the town of Huron. I packed up Penny and prepared to ride the same road I had driven the day before. Since I had reconnoitered the route the day before, I knew I had about 18 miles of 6’ paved shoulder out of town, followed by the 2’ paved + 4’ unpaved shoulder for the following 35 miles. I also figured that De Smet would be a good place to stop for lunch. I was back in a part of the country were the towns were placed along the road usually 6-14 miles apart. This is much better than those places where I’d ride 70-80 miles between towns.
While there was the same 15mph headwind most of the day, my morning was going pretty quickly. I was saddened a bit to leave the comfortable 6’ paved shoulder, the traffic was light enough to not be a major issue once the shoulder narrowed.
De Smet, SD, is the town Laura Ingalls Wilder lived in as a girl and is the setting for her series of Little House books. I could tell that because a good 5 miles outside of town, I started seeing her name all over the place. I crossed into town, and there on the corner of US 14 and Laura St is the Laura Ingalls Wilder School. There are a half a dozen Ingalls locations in and around town, though if you follow the sign that says Ingalls Wilder tours, 4 blocks, it leads you to another sign takes you another three blocks, then turns again and you end up, not at the Wilder House or the Ingalls Homestead, but at the gift shop. I did not go in. I did stop at the Silver Lake Prairie View spot to admire the view.
I also stopped at the dairy queen in town for lunch, striking up a conversation with a couple of guys about cycling and wind power. There’s got to be a solution to the infrastructure issues in the state, and unlike coal and natural gas in Wyoming, the wind in South Dakota is never going to run out. I hope you guys figure it out, because it’s a fantastic resource that is really underutilized.
Speaking of wind, about an hour after I left De Smet, I was riding along into the wind, and, suddenly, the wind seemed to forget about me. It took only a few seconds to realize that the resistance I dealt with all day had slacked, I popped the chain down several gears, lowered my head and sped forth. I picked up 7-8 mph from the wind stopping alone. Sadly, this lasted only 15 minutes or so, then the wind remembered that I was there and then tried to overcompensate for how easy my last 15 minutes were.
As the day pressed on, I took a few breaks, stopping in the large Lake Preston City Park that was peopled only by myself and a couple grounds keepers. I stopped again by a roadside lake and finished the last of the pistachios I had brought from New York. Finally, I hit the split of where 14 continues into Brookings and the 14 bypass swings around north. I headed into town, passing a couple kids on bikes on the way.
I got back to Main and went the block up to Sioux River bikes to show off Penny fully loaded. Unfortunately, they close at 6 and it was now 6:14. Oh well. I took a quick picture of Penny outside the shop. But people, go to Brookings and stop in at Sioux River Bikes and get yourself a new bike. You deserve it, don’t you?
I crossed town on 14 and stopped in at Jimmy Johns again for dinner. What can I say, it’s something I can’t get at home. Then, since there was still a good hour before sunset and I had only 18 miles to go before the Minnesota border, I wanted to press on. Just after crossing interstate 29 just east of town, I reached mile 2200 for the trip. Woo hoo.
I went another 8 miles, then found a perfect spot to camp off the highway in the corner of an empty field, shielded from the traffic by a large tree and tall grass. I could see the wind farm on the horizon that signaled the line between the states. I knew it would not be long in the morning before I got there.
Day 29 – Huron, SD to Camp 10 miles east of Brookings, SD
88.01 miles in 7:51:43. Totals: 2208.01 in 188:39:24 and a high speed today of 21.6mph
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