We sold everything and said goodbye to Singapore and arrived in Iowa. We were guest of Cheryl’s mum, Ruth.
After many day of getting over jet lag and enjoying the changing of Summer into Autumn , Cheryl got out the bikes. This is one of her bucket list. To ride long distance, unaided. Unaided means, no luggage pick up and drop off service, no quaint B&B expecting our arrival. Did you read the word, HER bucket list? So why am I going along? Good question, perhaps at the end of the 1000 miles the answer will come to me. Guess for now the best answer is, Cheryl needs a sidekick. After all, characters like Xena had Gabriella.
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| Xena had Gabriella |
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| And Shrek had Donkey…heehar |
Then off we go, like Thelma and Louise in our convertible,
OK it’s not a convertible in the true sense. They are custom folding and traveling Bike Friday.
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Versatility to adapt, Reliable and durable, Tour ready and dependable…
describes, me, of course…OK and the bikes |
8 Sept 2011
Today we rode thirty plus miles, about four hours nonstop from Sheldon through Sioux county to a town call Le Mars, also known as Ice cream capital of the world. Cheryl said she doesn’t think Vermont (home of Ben & Jerry) would agree with that statement. As we rode away from town, the view got better and better. Gentle undulating green, yellow and golden fields as far as the eyes can see. Long straight road disappearing into the horizon .the sky was a shade of pastel blue decorated with puffy pure white cotton candy. If not for the occasional vehicles, only the sound of breeze could be heard. Drivers, cows and horses stared at us as our shinny bike tossed off refection from the late Summer sun, at least that was what I thought. A flock of Snow Geese flying South would spot two black dots moving steadily across fields of green,yellow and gold. The view was like screen saver come to life. At this moment you are probably green with envy huh? Then we rode pass cattle farm on the right and hog houses on the left. There were many such farms along the way. Each time we rode past a hog house, I wondered how long before I pass out from holding my breath. Did I ask if you were green with envy? My face was green as I tried not to puke while riding. No wonder we got heaps of stares. No one bike through here. Even after several hours, the smell is still clinging deep inside my lungs. Our destination was The Blue Bunny Ice Cream Parlor. We each had a sundae. Yes fifteen hundred calories, mostly from milk fats and sugar from generous serving of fudge and caramel.Did I say we were doing a year of bike ride and travel to shed some pounds?
My journey begins and this story could be my first and last. It will depend if I can survive the smell of more hog farms or the American diet.
September 10, 2011
Today we rode from Sheldon through Little Rock to Minnesota. Another thirty plus miles
Thank god, there was less Hog farms along theses stretch of flat roads. Temperature recorded at eighty-five but it felt much hotter, not a single cloud in the clear blue sky. It was as if we were under one huge blue glass dome. Somewhere at the far end is Singapore.. Here the scenery is organic. It is as if it was a page from a drawing art class on how to draw perspective. The fields were lined; the different shades of green in the field were in neat rows. The road we rode on drew an almost straight line as it converges into a vanishing point. Even trees at a distance seem to cluster in symmetry. My favorite sightings are the burnt red orange colored barns with their white gabled shaped roofs. They reminded me of red velvet cake with white sugar frosting. Then again because most of the barns have only two tiny windows with white rims and big gaping doors they looked like faces with mouth opened saying, “arrrr” to us as we rode past. Some barn would have moss green roof and that too looked earthly and pleasant. It seems like with every barn there is always a tower silo. Shy and holding itself tightly, hiding behind and peeking its roundish shape head above the barn. As if feeling awkward because he was shinny and not organic looking, like his siblings, the barn and houses. I got a sense that looking at him seems to make him feel uncomfortable or maybe the heat was getting to my head.
Pedal, Pedal, Pedal, after a couple of hours, I was dragging my feet. I spin so slowly, grasshoppers and other bugs would hop onto my knee as if to catch a ride.
I was out of fuel and just as I was beginning to hate it when we rode into Little Rock. Whoa, in the middle of town there was a BBQ event right outside the store. For five dollars we got a Bratwurst with that sour veggie thing in a bun, a soda and even a Blue Bunny ice cream sandwich. That Blue Bunny hit the spot. I love it. Guess who else loves it too? One by one leather jacket rider on big bike pulled up. No, not big bicycles. These are steel tank Harley, Road King with their shinny pullback handlebars, Goldwing plates. These are mega chrome on wheels.
We exchange head nods as I tiptoe and quickly moved away. Somewhat feeling, not cool, to be just bicyclist. On the road, more big bikes with their equally big bicep riders past us. It was like the movie, Wild Hogs. As they vroom and shroom past, riders stuck out his or her hands to us. With a big grin, I returned the hand-in-air gesture but tried hard not to have envious thoughts in case my baby Bike Friday develops an inferiority complex. I patted my bike on its tiny little head when she said to me, “when I grow up I am going to be like one of em, aren’t I, mummy?” Hummm, it Must be the heat…fifteen miles more to go.
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Mascot -Max, where the wild things are.
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September 11, Sunday. Rest day -Went to a county fair and had junk food, fried candy, chips, fudges. Ohhh felt so sick on the way home. Sugar-coma. Are we fattening up for the road trip? The way my pants pinch my butt crack, I don’t think I need to.
September 12, Sheldon. Staying home and being normal. Back of my mind, I knew the day would come when being normal would be gone.
September 13, Sheldon. Staying home, going to gym and that’s normal too.
September 14, Sheldon. Getting ready for the big trip. Trying to get out of it the whole day but really, what are my chances?
September 15 – Started ride. Minnesota I-94 to Lake Shetek Park. First overnight camping in the park. Not too bad as we had the sag way wagon nearby. Ruth slept in the van. She is 80 years old and sleeping in a sleeping bag in the back of van is probably something she has done all her life … like never. That night could not have been easy for her. The thought that she may get herself entangled in her sleeping bag due to her lack of mobility or flexibility produced image of one cold and stiff Ruth when we open the back of the van in the morning. Half moan and giggle we agreed I should go sleep in the back seat. Ditch the cold tent? It didn’t take much persuasion to find me curl up in the back seat. Yeah I can do this. It’s like occupying a row of three seater on the plane all to myself and get credit for being the good girl to help Ruth if she needed any. But after what seems like three or four hours my guilt was cramping my back so I ditched the van to crawl back to the tent to one happy Cheryl, but not without scaring the shit out of her as I hastily unzipped the tent without warning. It’s freezing cold. Do I go knock, knock?
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Sag Wagon teammate, Ruth at Lake Shetek Park
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September 16 – Ride. Day two was a windy morning. I get to ride in the van for that afternoon. I didn't get much sleep last night and hey if the van is around why not relax. I am sure more suffering will come in the days to come. We all got into town where Cheryl got a donut. She rode so she gets to eat it. With Ruth with us, we decided to take it easy and checked into a motel in Granite Falls. Yeah, OMG no need to camp.
September 17 – Day off. Drove from Granite Falls to North Dakota Sheyenne Grasslands.
Taking it easy we checked into motel again. I have Ruth to thanks for that.
September 18 – Day off. Yeah, that should be the way. Let’s just drive all the way and not ride again. Scenic drive through the grasslands and Sheyenne River valley then checked into motel at Morehead.
Cheryl was itching to ride so she got out her bike and rode to Fargo. I politely declined her invitation to have some more relaxing time in the motel. I mean really, why rush?
Tonight was our last nice dinner out with Ruth. This was as far she goes and she makes her way back to Sheldon tomorrow. With it, my chances of any easy car trip will be gone too. Dinners at Fargo’s Granite City brewpub .Food was so yummy but deep down in the pit of my stomach there was a twisting uneasiness as this marks the beginning of the point of no return. Last meal before the tour of duty… I wannadessert.
Sept 19 – We said our goodbye to Ruth and the safety of our sag wagon. Am I ready for this? Nope but let’s get it on road I’ll take it as it comes. Urge…Fifty miles to ride? Oh, help me. Cant we just do five miles ?
September 20-Today again we are hiding out in a motel in Detroit lakes, Minnesota. There was forecast of heavy wind and rain. Yesterday we rode fifty miles from Fargo, North Dakota and came to the small town of Callaway, Minnesota. Set up tent behind the baseball field by the dugout. No shower facility but at least there was a porta-potty.
Fortunately, here in this part of the country porta-potty are very clean although i am still not use to it. Moments like these reminds me never take for granted the joy and comfort of having running water. My Oriental culture or OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) has made cleaning with water as necessary as the pope needs to believe in God. I may not be making the best analogy here but something about the word God and Clean seem to match, at least in my head. Right now I am facing a night and many more to come, that camping means Outhouse, Pit toilet, Porta- potty, Vault toilet. Did not know there were so many fangled names for different types of outdoor toilet. Even at best, toilet in motels are not Japanese toilet that is to say, Americans are just not into bidet, washlet or wash and clean. They are quite contented with wipe and go. Seriously folks, would you wipe your dishware with only paper towel and put them back? Wet wipe will be my best friend. You can tell I do not have the making of a true camper.
Arriving at our campsite, we rode pass a farmer and bought two fresh tomatoes, one potato and two onions. That evening we boiled all the veggies together and had soup for dinner with some crackers.... Argh my pathetic dinner but not for a true camper like Cheryl. She was beaming with pride as she slurped on her self-sufficient sustenance.
After our fine and wholesome dinner, we got ready to hunker down for the night expecting rain. Lucky for us, the rain did not arrive. In the morning when we peeked out of the tent, the clouds had gathered like angry protesters, waves of them in the sky marching towards us. Cheryl decided to call for backup. Backup? What Backup? Well, I didn’t know Cheryl had a backup plan. Ruth who I thought was on her way back to Sheldon was in a motel just twenty miles away!
Rescue arrived and we scrambled into the van once again. Instead of fuming all day inside the tent under the rain, i found myself having a big American breakfast of cheese, eggs, hash brown, toast and water down coffee and a view of big American pies in the glass display. Cheryl said maybe we‘d come back for tea. In other words, behave well and you might get a twwrreat. Just goes to show, just when you expect the worst, the best can happen.
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| Behind the baseball field by the dug-out |
Sept 21 – Rode in the rain from Callaway to Two Inlets, Minnesota. Ruth drove off and this time for real. Once again, I am left to face my painful fate. Oh legs, oh butt, oh heart, I am so sorry for you. You got fourty-six miles to go in the rain.
Lunch stop at a bar in Cracking lake resort to warm up and a mug of hot chocolate never tasted better. However, our sweet respite ended as quickly as my mug of hot chocolate. Out in the cold and rain again we continued on the long miserable ride… for me it was, but a glance at Cheryl revealed a tired but jubilant wind dried face and that kind of made it all worthwhile. At least we had a nice cabin to stay in that night.
Sept 22 – What a difference a day makes. Today was a nice sunny day and we have a short ride. From Two Inlets to Lake Itasca to see Mississippi River Headwaters. Then we rode two miles further north to Wanagan campgrounds in the Mississippi Headwaters State Forest campsite on the river but there was no one around. NO ONE… I don’t like that, No One part especially I just realize if something bad were to happen to us no one would be expecting us and it would be days before Ruth would check in on us and by then our frozen body would be oblivious of the phone ringing.
This place looked primitive. Hand pumped well, an outhouse, and no one in sight. Cheryl built a fire and I thought I might as well make the best of the it so I poi as the sun went down.
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| My Lighted Poi |
It was a very cold night and not to mention scary. Never in my life could I image sleeping in the forest with only one person to protect me, who at that moment was so sound asleep she would not have heard if a herd of deer was dancing the sugarplum fairy around our tent.
Bears, marauding raccoons, even river monsters and other possibility seeped into my mind the entire night. Cocoon in my sleeping bag, I laid wrapped up in two pairs of pants, three jackets and a thick buff over my head , staring around our tiny tent that might as well have be a big body bag. Then as if on cue, a frenzy of howling pealed through the air marking the presence of wild canine. Even my breath scurried back into my nostrils and retreated into my larynx with an, ooup. I hope they were coyotes and not the more dangerous species. Yeah, like I could distinguish their howl? I was making a mental list of what I had handy that could make loud noise to scare them away if they decide to raid our “body bag”.
Well I have the Coleman camping pot with our spoons inside and er, er, think, think…oh yeah I have my pocket harmonica.
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| Wild dangerous canine around our campsite |
Morning was a relief to wake up to. I hate to admit it but I think in spite of my last night self-inflicted imagination of possible carnage and this morning biting frost and the place was actually serenely beautiful and it is so because we earned it. If we had just driven in with cups of coffee in the drink holder and breakfast in a box, the place would not have the same magical effect.
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| In the morning |
Sept 23 – Another nice day but legs are getting weary and the short ride to Bemidji seems long. Stopped for lunch and we each had a big order of yummy tasty juicy burgers and the best tasting salted fries. Bad mistake to have a big meal and as it made the last fifteen miles seems an eternity but we finally got to Bemidji campground. This was an RV park three miles out of town. That evening Cheryl cycled back into town and bought ribs for dinner while I stayed at camp turning green with envy admiring RV and Motor homes or maybe I was turning green from too much food.
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| Lunch |
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| Dinner |
Sept 24 -We are in Bena, Minnesota .Today we cycled forty miles. We had been doing the same for the last three maybe four days straight. Doing four to eight hours daily. At the end of each day, we get to campgrounds or state forest. We will set up tent, I will gather dry leaves, twigs and log for fire while Cheryl pull out the camping stove and cook dinner. Some days we are lucky enough to rent a cabin. Today is one of those lucky days. This place was part of the Winnibigoshish Grocery and Gas station. Built in 1933. it’s some sort of historical building converted into station and lodging. While Cheryl was securing a room, I stood outside wondering how to say the name. Is it Win or Winnie, is it Big or Bi Gosh- Sheesh just hope we get a room. Got it. Good job Cheryl. Inside the cabin there was a fake fireplace- nice, but no bathroom-not nice. We have to take our shower in the restroom of the gas station. Yucky, this was going to be a big challenge for me as I have germs phobia ,OCD...oh no that means i might end up cleaning their restroom...control , control, stay calm. Then again, after cycling fourty miles on the road better to have a shower in the gas station than no shower, use a proper flush toilet than a Vault toilet. I guess we should always count our blessing huh? Turns out, the restroom was clean… enough, and quite acceptable or perhaps my perspectives have changed. That can happen after you drink tap water from public restroom and well water from camp site enough times, Gems, dirt, oh what the hell. So glad we got a place to sleep indoors.
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| Winnibigoshish Grocery and Gas station- 1933 |
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| Winnibigoshish Grocery and Gas station- 2011 |
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| Our cute cabin |
