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 |
Sept 25, 2011 – Bena to Schoolcraft State Park. We were trying to make it to Grand Rapids but was too tired so we diverted to camp at the park. We had no food. Was it going to be a night of just chocolate bars? I did my meal mooching Yogi Bear act and got free food from the campers who were leaving. I was hopeful for a pic-a-nic basket with some hot dogs and fries but was just as grateful when the entire food donations were leftover ingredient to make S’mores.
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| Yo got some food for Boo-Boo and me ,Sir? |
Now the campsite was deserted and we got to choose the best site. Recent experience had taught me that camping in a deserted park is ok and beside the people who just left, stayed here the last few nights. I gathered twigs and dry leaves while Cheryl bought a pile of Birch wood for fire from the unman-camp office.
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| Yeah, plus we were fat chick getting fit. |
Sept 26, 2011 –Every mile closer to Grand Rapids found my stress gauge needle dropping. Tomorrow is rest day. Checked into motel facing the river. Nothing beats my priority of getting a hot shower. My glorious moments of my adventure are my hot showers. Cleaned and renewed we walked to the store. Had a picnic lunch on the dock, short rest then dinner and a well-deserved sleep. Never again will I take for granted the joy of having a bed. I’ll never complain again about motel bed. No complains about ghost, bugs, dust or germs, just let me craw into bed. Tomorrow was going to be a good day.
Sept 27, 2011 – Rest day in Grand Rapids.
Rest day means walking. So we did. Walked all over town both making comparison of the unfamiliar sensation our body and legs felt. “I feel a bit more upright, how your legs? What hurts? My bum, what bum?“
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Visited the Judy Garland exhibition at the historical museum
simply because we had nothing better to do
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Send in our bike to a pro shop for a tune up. At first, I thought forty-five dollars for each bike was too much but what a huge difference it made. Best money spent. Thanks Cheryl, wait a minute am I having Stockholm syndrome? I am being grateful to my captor for providing safe passage to take us farther.
The day passed with beautiful weather. I wished our rest day would last for a week and my body cried, “we vote for that “. we lost the mandate.
Sept 28 and 29, 2011 – Grand Rapids to Big Sandy Lake Campground to Aitkin.
A very fortunate encounter. Here is where we met our first Trail angel. An extract from Cheryl’s letter to her mum will tell the story.
“We're in Aitkin Minnesota now. It's been a good two days. People who hike or bike long distances always talk about the "trail magic" they experience along the way. Yesterday we experienced our first trail magic.
It was a beautiful sunny day. We were leaving Grand Rapids with fresh legs and freshly tuned bikes. We rode at a good pace and enjoyed many short breaks along the way. We got to our planned campsite at Sandy Lake at 2:00 still feeling great. We were considering going on another 10 miles to take advantage of the nice weather and give us a shorter ride on the rainy, windy day we knew was coming up. Susan wanted a rest before going on so we pulled into the Sandy Lake campsite just to look. It was a nice lake; the tent camping sites were beautiful. There were enough other campers around to feel safe but not crowded. It was the nicest campground we'd seen so far so I decided we should just stop and enjoy the afternoon and be rested for the tough day ahead.
We picked out our campsite and I went to register. We had bought jalapeno cheese sausages for dinner so after registering I went in search of the camp hosts to buy some firewood for us to cook over. That's when the magic started. The camp hosts tell us that they're having a fish fry for all the campers that night. So instead of our sausages, dinner was fried walleye and bass from the lake, coleslaw, homemade chili, cake and cookies. And all compliments of the camp hosts.
Over dinner a few RV camper took an interest of our ride and wanted to hear more. Susan took center stage to give a demo of our folding bikes. Of course, after she had a captive audience, I had to do the folding demo since she's never really learned how the bikes work.
The people we shared a table with were two very nice sisters and their husbands. They were fascinated by our ride and charmed by Susan's "reluctant adventurer" stories. After dinner, they insisted on giving us some apples that they had bought from a nearby orchard. Later in the evening, the sisters walked over to our tent and invited us to stop by for hot coffee before we left the next day.
The night was the best yet; warm enough that we could sit outside without gloves or hats. Susan danced her lighted poi into the night while we cooked up our sausages to eat the next day. We had a nice warm night and a good sleep in spite of the wind that was starting to pick up.
When we woke up it was windy and cloudy but not raining. We quickly packed up, ate some cold sausage and our apples and were going to try to beat the rain out. But it started raining just as we were leaving so we decided to take advantage of the hot coffee offer while we waited it out. After an hour of coffee and conversation in a dry, warm RV, the rain had stopped and we were ready to head on our way. They offered to drive us to Aitkin if we wanted but we didn't want to impose that much so we started out into the rainy blustery day.
The first bit wasn't bad. Just a little rain and the wind at our backs. By the time we turned with the wind to our sides, it had stopped raining. We got to our mid-point town Palisade and the owner of the gas station we stopped at told us that the Highway 169 we were planning to take was very busy and had a horrible shoulder for biking. So, we took a slightly different route that would cut our ride on 169 down from 15 miles to 8 miles. First, we had another good stretch with the wind at our backs where we just flew. Then a moderately busy highway that had us wondering if we really had taken a better route. Then we got to 169 and it was terrible. a 12-inch shoulder with constant traffic whizzing by. The wind was mostly at our backs but with occasional gusts from the side pushing us towards the traffic.
Halfway through we were totally wiped out and with two miles left, Susan was just about ready to give up and walk the rest of the way into town. We stopped for an energy bar and some water and to collect ourselves for the last miles. Just as we're ready to pull out, the people we had met the night before come pulling up in their van. They had driven to Aitken and not seen us so they had parked their RV and gone out searching to make sure we were ok. When they offered us a ride the last couple of miles Susan jumped to the chance. We piled into their van and they brought us to the motel. They gave us Pizza from their lunch and dropped us off at the motel. Bev insisted we take some "travel money"for good luck.
Now I know what people are talking about when they talk about trail magic. Wonderful things that happen and wonderful people you meet along the way.
The sun is already starting to come out and it's supposed to start getting better again tomorrow. So we should have some good riding ahead. I'll write more from our next stop.” - Cheryl
Nothing is just a coincident as validated in this synchronous event. if we did not met Joe, Karen and her sister, Bev we might not be here now. The ride along the 169 could have turn out to be a disaster .There was no room for error. If my bike rolled off to the narrow shoulder to the right, I would have landed in the ditch and likely end up a human pretzel. If it rolled off to the left onto the rumble strip I would have lost control of my heavy loaded bike and fallen on to the traffic and a truck might have churned me into Raspberry crush on Rock! So when our Trail Angels made a deliberate searched and found us I was beyond happy to accept a ride. Joe tucked our bikes into the back of his minivan and I sat behind calming my stress by ranting nervously, like Chicken Little.
Karen asked if I was comfortable sitting on the small Evakool at the back of the minivan. My respond paled in comparison in what I really felt. At that moment, I felt luckier and more comfortable than the Queen of England in her Royal Carriage.
Bev who was battling a life altering health issue was having a good week and decided to take up her sister’s offer to spend a weekend camping. Had she not done that, well who knows…. each time we make a decision we create a chain of events and sometimes alter another. Fate or Design?
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| Big Sandy Lake Campground |
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| See Max with the lucky ten dollars? |
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| Bev offering apples |
Sept 30, 2011 – Aitkin to Isle on Mille Lac. Nice sunny day and thirty-six miles felt easy. Maybe I am getting stronger or maybe I am just grateful to have made it this far with my limbs intact. Got to the lake in two hours then spent the afternoon riding leisurely along the lake
There were some beautiful old houses here. Whenever I see beautiful properties in quiet setting, I often wondered if people who live here are happy or lonely or even live here at all. Maybe most of these homes were summer vacation homes. Seems to me there is a fine line between peaceful and lonely. Maybe the place get a lot cheerier in the summer time but for me I am just passing through on my journey to another night, another motel.
Before we could find our Inn I needed to pee real bad and since the trail seem deserted, I decided to do a pit stop behind some bushes with top half of my body sticking out. Just then, an SUV drove pass but it was too late for me to jump up. As if that was not awkward enough, the driver stopped for a moment. I wondered if I could duck walk away deeper into the bushes without been seen or maybe if I stayed very still he might confused the neon Orange vest I had on for roadwork equipment. Later I realize there was a stop sign right there. Cheryl grinned as she teased me, “don’t worry, there must be lots of cyclist with special looking bikes and bright yellow panniers, he’ll never be able to spot you out in this tiny town.”
We stayed at McQuoid’s Inn and walked two and the half miles each way to dinner at Buzzes’ on the Bay for an, “ All you can eat fish and prime rib” Worth it and good thing we walked. Yeah I know whenever I get a good feeding I have to pay it back tomorrow. Sometime lovely dinner like this makes me very happy when I am snuffing the food down and sad when I am finished. Sad, because I know I am being fed so that my body can have the fuel for more riding. I want to protest. I said to Cheryl I would go on a hunger strike if I wasn’t so damn hungry and if the food wasn’t so damn delicious.
Oct 1, 2011 – Isle to Bicycle Bunkhouse near Dalbo.
It was a sunny and warmish day, but a headwind and a highway with narrow shoulders the entire way made it another nerve racking day. We arrived at the bicycle bunkhouse. A refuge offered free to cyclist by a kind man who found out his house is the halfway point to the next town. The owner Don Olsen, stocked up this barn converted bunkhouse better than any motel. There was a microwave machine, coffee maker, pizza oven, room heater, fridge and food. Too bad it’s so late in the season that there’s no food left in the freezer.
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| “This is the place to be if you are following Adventure Cycling Association's Northern Tier route. Don Olsen is a great friend to bicycle tourists!!” |
Oct 2, 2011 – Bicycle Bunkhouse to North Branch.
In the morning, Don and his cat came in with coffee so we waited out the morning chill chatting with him while his cat was making comparisons with previous visitors to see who gives the best cat scratch. He clearly loves doing this, that is, Don and said he was quite impressed that we are travelling so late in the season. What? It just sank into my head that most cyclists travel much earlier in the warmer season. Now, I am even less keen to go on but I don’t show it, at least, not to others. People we meet always seem to be in awe of our ambition but I wonder.
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| http://youtu.be/ezcyY6BGlik Another Trail Angel |
Oct 3, 2011 – North Branch to Stillwater.
We wanted a rest day but that would mean we had to do the long push of forty-five miles to get to Stillwater. I said go for it.
Because it was so hot with every pit stop, I had stripped down as if I loosing in a game of strip poker. We were very tired by the time we arrived. We did one last vertical descent into the old downtown. What a welcoming sight. Very quaint yet bustling, the town offered the promise of some shopping and exciting food. We walked up and down several streets and I was felt shy in my attire but at the same time,too damn tired to care what people might think. Walking in my bike knickers with the seatpad bulging behind like an adult diaper and I was braless under my white lightweight top. The motel that was suppose to be in town was outdated information and did not exist anymore so unless Cheryl was willing to blow two hundred for accommodation we had to make the long humble ride out of town to the outskirts. The road leading out of town was a steep climb on a narrow road busy oscillating with vacationers in their big motorhomes, RV and SUVs.
The temperature felt like it was the height of summer. Tired and thirsty we had to squeeze the last ounce of strength for each stroke as we pedal up the hill. I could feel the cuss of motorist, as they had to share that narrow road with us, adjusting to our pace. Times like that I wished I had a print across the back of my tee shirt saying “Out Of Gas…Be patient” or something else appealing to their humor or sympathy.
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| Downtown Stillwater |
Oct 4, 2011 – Rest day in Stillwater.
Leo’s ice cream and malt parlor. I had ice cream treat for lunch and if that was not enough an indulgent we had Mongolian buffet that evening. More food means more miles to come. Fortune cookie said, “Enjoy now, much pain tomorrow” Ok, ok, I made that up but it might as well been so.
Oct 5, 2011 – Stillwater to St Croix Bluffs Regional Park. Got an early start to beat the heat. Good thing we did because we were about to feel the pain of the hilly bluffs of South East Minnesota. Nice ride along the St Croix scenic byway into Afton. Then just past Afton we hit the first killer hill. A long thirty minutes steep climb then a short flat ride on the bluffs and a steep decent to a creek followed by another steep climb back up. One more steep decent and climb and I was ready to give up for the day. With four panniers hanging on the racks on both side of the bicycle was like a heavily pregnant woman carrying twins on roller skate. Going downhill was no lah-de-dah. I had to be so focus as my bike flew down steep hills. You could not apply brake when the bike is moving so fast, at least not for a rookie rider like myself. Sometime I zipped past bloody blobs of all size and freshness on the road- road kills. I had to hold my breath and use every bit of concentration not to look at it. At the speed I was going if I lost my focus,which was easy to, I could end up like those bloody blob on the ground. This road trip had given us the experience which one would never get if you were in a car. Close up and personal encounter with lots of critters and creatures in bits and pieces. Every time when we were on the road , we saw and gaged on the smell of dead deer, skunks, buzzard, frogs and other animals that I could not identify. We steered our wheels, avoiding fuzzy orange colored caterpillars that seem to go back and fort like in some video arcade game. I believe we both scored high points by not rolling on too many of them. Raccoons and snakes were probably the highest causality. Cheryl said there is nothing worst than riding passed a dead skunk except to weave through parts of a dead skunk. My vote goes to the jiggling and wind dried parts of dismembered frog hanging on my bike.
Several thousand pedals later and yonder past the realm of exhaustion, I was willing to camp so that I can stop riding for the day. The campground at the Regional Park had a view of the lake. The place was beautiful and peaceful. After setting up camp we rode down to the boat ramp and beach for a swim in the cold St Croix. The lovely warm night with an almost full moon was perfect and made us very happy we had decided to camp. It was warm and dry enough to leave the fly tent (outer waterproof layer) up so I found myself waking up several times in the night to take in the view of the night sky changing in shade. The reflection of moonlight over the lake tempted me to get up and take a walk simply to enjoy the serenity of the moonlit forest. Guess I could say I did, but only to the vault toilet.
The night was perfect and I was happy but I knew tomorrow will bring promise of more riding.
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| To Hager City Wisconsin |
Oct 6, 2011 – St Croix Bluffs Regional Park to Hager City Wisconsin. Another short day of only twenty-eight miles and again expected to get hot so we packed up fast and got on the road around eight thirty. The warm-up ride to Prescott was quite nice and mostly gently downhill. Bought a Subway sandwich to go and talked to a couple who warned us of hills ahead….gwad , sheesh, like I needed to know.
First we took a detoured to the Mississippi River Trail visitor center to get some photos of the Mississippi now that we rejoined it. The river, like my riding skills and endurance had increase in size; at least I like to believe so, for soon, it will be put to the test. Then back on the road and onto the hills. The couple was right. There were a couple of very, very long steep climbs . So steep was the climb there was a sign along the road that said, “Go Cyclist Go”. Yes, others had been through this but I was wondered if they had carried heavy load like us? Many times, I was tempted to take a break but was afraid I would have no momentum to start. When we finally hit the day’s final hill and I was ready to give up but thought of a mental trick. Had to find a goal and since it’s going to be another night camping so what else to look forward to but food. Maybe that was the point of the entire journey, there was a life lesson here. If we find a goal in everything we do then it’s easy to get there. No matter what the goal was, pretend it is so rewarding, even if it’s just a humble Subway sandwich, a bag of pretzel, the glorious hot shower or to curl up under thick blanket on a firm bed. Yes, even if it’s just to be tuck into the sleeping bag under the tent was better than this, bored ocean of emotion. Anything I could look forward to is something to propel me forward. Pondering on my naïve philosophy plus the hours of tedium cycling, I coined another corny maxim in my head, “It’s not the steepness of the hill but the depth of your will”, or replace that with,” my will”, er, but do I have any? erummm, maaaybeee that s the problem ?
Thank god, the descent to Diamond Bluffs was excellent and we took our lunch by the river. After lunch we rode on the small side road instead of going back to the highway. It was a really a beautiful ride with the river on one side and the bluffs on the other. Rode half way across the Mississippi and found our destination, The Island Campground and Marina. The last place we camp was so pretty I had made the mistake to expect the same of this place especially with such a promising name but turns out to be lousy, lousy camping spot. I was so sure Cheryl made a mistake. No, this cannot be the camp spot, I snapped, totally exhausted and disappointed.
The campground was actually outside the perimeter of the marina, next to the road. I had to drag two-picnic table to shelter our tent from the road. Only RV and Motorhomes allowed inside. What? Are campers pariah? I hate it! What I really hated was having worked so hard to get here only to end up in a lousy spot….give me the damn bag of pretzel.
Outside the thin protection of our plastic tent, the wind was roaring. It’s going to be another restless night. Cheryl was taking it all in good stride as her was fulfilling her dreams to be a long distant rider. And me? Well I made it this far and I was earning Cheryl’s admiration every day….except days when she says, stop bitching. Ok, she never said that but I am not surprise she thought that, especially that evening.
We hunker down and shared my IPod, listening to an audiobook titled, Animal Vegetable Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. How apt, how timely. Perhaps this is the point of our adventure. It not about my voyage of deprivation and hardship, well, who am I kidding, it always about me because it my story. Made sense; to me. No, seriously, the point is, this journey brought us to this book and the content unlocked our mind to a new way of thinking. Perhaps this will offer me a way to reconcile my carnivorous satisfaction without the reflux of guilt. The most important discovery is Cheryl did not scoff at the idea, instead, had always been an advocate of sustainable and humane farming. Whoa,something to look forward to.
Oct 7, 2011 – Hager City Wisconsin to Lake City, Minnesota. Rode to Redwing and took the flat highway 61. What a pay off! It was very scenic and hardly any traffic. Best of all the bluffs shielded us from the headwind for most of the morning. But by eleven the winds were picked up enough that even being shielded by it was as useful as using an umbrella in hurricane. I was going strong but slowed down as Cheryl had “no legs”. We don’t know why someday I do good and some days I am the one with lead for legs. It felt good to be able to give Cheryl encouragement by pacing slightly ahead of her bike, sheltering her from the wind….Awwww I know, soooo nice of me.
We took the Adventure Cycling Association route through historic Fronsenac and enjoyed a nice break along the river. Back on the highway the winds were getting brisker so at Lake City we decided to stop at the
Hok-Si-La City Park to check out the campsites.
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| Hok-Si-La Campsite |
The woman managing the camp was so friendly and the campsites were too beautiful to resist.
Instead of fighting the headwinds for another thirteen miles to Wabasha we decided to stay. Even I was keen to camp! What’s happening to me?
Ironically, knowing that we did not have to go on any further it renewed our strength so after we sent up tent and dumped our panniers, we rode about three miles into town for lunch. I was reward with a roast beet, caramelized onions and blue cheese on crusty bread,,,yeah I know,, sounds yucky to some but was actually delightfully delicious. Cheryl had a Saffron chicken sandwich. We sample each other food and delighted our mouths with equally wonderful rich slice of chocolate cake and sticky chewy yummy granola bar for dessert. Rabbit's Bakery, Lake City. Love it.
We rode back to the campsite, climbed down the bluff, and took a swim in the Mississippi River. I jumped into the icy water with no hesitation while Cheryl was left standing reluctant to get in. She thought I was so tough. What she didn't know was, I so needed to soak my, not so tough and sore bum in the icy water. Dinner was campfire sausages, salad and dancing with my lighted poi by the fire.
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| Take a dip in Lake Pepin |
This was by far my best camping night. Maybe my journey is to learn the joys of camping and it would have been perfect if every morning when we crawled out of the tent we did not look and feel like two foxes coming out of hen houses. Coughing and spitting out fine feathers…kof,kof,pfft,pfft… Both our down sleeping bag leaks fine feather with every toss and turn.
Oct 8 – Lake City, Minnesota to Bass Resort Campground. Easy morning cycle to Wabasha. Went downtown to buy bike lube and found Oktoberfest in progress. Wanted to stay but only place available was the lousy and expensive city park campground so we had to give up idea of staying in this town. That means no ice cream for me and no beer for Cheryl.
Very sadly we rode on to John Lasher State Park. After many painful and frustrated hours of riding we got to the park only to find, “No camping” signs. Angry, tired and dismayed we had to continue on to the only other campsite in the area. Bass camp. Another crummy campsite and this time, the most hideous showers area. The campsite is almost half a mile walk to the public shower area. Dust churned up by wind and vehicles as I walked towards the shower area and I would have to walk back into the dust after my shower? Arrrr.
In the shower area, the floor was dirty and water from the old rusty pipes was smelly. Like bad eggs. On top of that, I have to feed the coin operated shower stall to buy five minutes of rotten smelling water. I was so tired I did not care that I was barefoot inside the shower stall. Gross.Gross.Gross. Back at the tent I was so emotionally wrecked I just curled up and stayed catatonic for a very long while. Cheryl did all the talking but I was too far deep in my head to listen to her.
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| Want to crawl out of my skin
Next morning I was happy to get out of area but not happy to be on the road again. Days like these, I searched hard for the meaning of this entire trip, our relationship, my entire existence. Will the motion of my wheels get me to my destination or will the wheels in my mind make me crazy first ?
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Oct 9 – Bass Resort to Winona Minnesota After four days of riding and camping we were happy to have a short day. Got to Winona at around eleven and had breakfast and Wi Fi to check out for best hotels deals. The most central place was American Inn right by the river so Cheryl splurged to stay there. I stayed in the room while Cheryl went to the town’s annual cemetery walk – a tour through the cemetery where people acted out skits playing the role of dead people buried in the cemetery. Cheryl instinct must have told her to leave me alone for the day. She hung out with the dead while I hung out with the TV and a bag of chips.
Oct 10 – Winona, Minnesota to Trempealeau Wisconsin.
Meandered through the Upper Mississippi Wildlife reserve enjoying the beautiful day since we only had eighteen miles to ride. Missed the turnoff for Perrot park so we rode through Trempealeau instead then back track to explore the park. Seeing how far it was from town to the campground, and having no food for dinner we decided to stay at the historic Trempealeau hotel instead of camping.
This beautiful historical hotel established in 1871 overlooked the Mississippi River. The living quarters and European styled bed rooms looked very cozy, but the collections of framed faded photos of ancestors along the narrow hallway and rooms made the atmosphere …kind of creepy. It reminded Cheryl of her grandma’s house.
Downstairs in the dinning room, we had the best dinner of the trip at the hotel. I had the Spinach Lasagna paired with a glass of Riesling while Cheryl ordered the house specialty, meatless Walnut Burger. It was an evening of great food, great beer, great wine; and my wonderful tormentor and companion…and I guess having cycled here made it a little more “earned.”
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Our historic hotel room for only forty-nine dollars
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| River and railway line in front of hotel |
Oct 11 – Trempealeau to La Crosse. It rained all night and so did the trains. In the morning ,like drifters, we moved on.
Got to LaCrosse around noon and found our motel. Horror, it seemed like an old cellblock or asylum. A far cry from yesterday’s step back in time classic hotel experience. However, this seedy looking motel was clean and by now my philosophy was, anytime I can get a hot shower and a firm bed, is a good day. Less winning, as my gratitude grows in tandem with my endurance, perhaps I knew we are getting closer to the end.
Oct 12 – Rest day in LaCrosse. Rain was predicted so it was a clever plan to have a rest day. By now we could “afford to” mail off unused stuff to Cheryl mum. I dare say for every effort needed to ride one mile, we put in twice the effort . Today it felt good to lighten up our load, in every sense of the word.
D’oh, I forget to toss in my gloves.
Oct 13 – LaCrosse to Lansing, Iowa.
Rain had just stopped when we got up and by the time we crossed to Iowa the sun was starting to peek through. We are heading for the farthest northeast town in Iowa, New Albin. The sun was fully awake by the time we rode in. Those warm rays brighten our spirit. Even the familiar smell of Hog farms did not get me down. Sure it made my eyes water but it was tears of joy as the smell meant we reached Iowa.
Hotel was at the edge of town so we had a long walk in for dinner. We choose The Safe House Saloon. It was another step back into time, hole- in-the-wall. There was a barrel of free peanuts and patrons were encouraged to throw the shells on the floor. We ate our thin crust pizza in our booth while reading the original news print about the tragedy of the titanic. Hey, guess it’s better being on my road adventure that being one of those lost souls out at sea.
Back at the motel I requested for extra pillows and when owner dropped them off she offered to drive us across the slick and busy bridge in her pickup the next day. Another Trail angel.
Oct 14 – Lansing Iowa to Prairie du Chien. Wisconsin.
The offer for a ride over the bridge turned out to be a huge help. The bridge was narrow and had an open metal grate deck so it would have been horrible to ride. In spite of the easy morning start off, today was not without its usual suffering. Wind was bulling us off the road. With the bluff blocking the sun, the wind would chill us to the bone.
Escaping the wind we stopped in Lynxville and ducked into a bar to enjoyed hot coffee. The nice bar owner, reminded me of the nonchalant and happy go lucky bartender, Woody Boyd (played by Woody Harreson) in the sitcom Cheers. He offered us free cakes that was leftover from last evening party and his quote of the day: “any day when you wake up and can put your feet on the ground is a good day”. That was kinda of nice, anyone who gives me free cakes is kind of verrry nice.
After coffee and several mouthfuls of cakes we got back on to the road. The shoulder got narrower and the wind got very much stronger as if it was angry at us for ducking into the bar.
It was coming from the right and hitting the bluffs on our left creating a swirling headwind vortex. It was very tough riding until we got to the side road into Prairie du Chien. Somehow I was feeling stronger today than any other day. Perhaps it was the free cakes, perhaps when you encounter good people your energy soar. And when you feel good , better things happen. We checked in the most generous motel of the trip. We checked in at the America Inn right by the river. Rich creamy pumpkin cappuccino from the vending machine all day plus ample supply of other free goodies snacks. What can beat freshly bake cookies and milk in the evening but free freshly bake cookie and milk?
Oct 15 – Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin to Elkader, Iowa
For this morning’s breakfast, American Inn had Betty, as printed on her nametag, made omelets to your liking. Wow after many “free-breakfast” of just toast, cereal, coffee and juice this was fancy.
As Cheryl was leaving the motel the receptionist offered her two wrapped S'mores from a plate which I had seen earlier on the counter, then promptly the plate disappeared when I searched for it. This made me suspect the staff conspired and said, “Quick hide the S’mores from the other one who took half the plate of cookies last night”.
We crossed the bridge to Marquette and then did the hard steep climb up the bluffs. When Cheryl signed up with the ACA she received a decal and it says, “Ride to Live, Live to Ride.” I like to send to ACA my maxim. “Ride to Eat, Eat to Ride”.
Now its pay back for the morning hearty breakfast. On the bluff we thought the worst was over but then the wind hit us. Thirteen miles into a very strong headwind was like riding with an open mini parachute on our backs. So strong it sometimes stopped us in our tracks. Finally, we got to our lunch stop at Monona and got to turn south. That means wind in our favor. The adage “May the wind be in your back” never felt more tangible. Sometimes I deliberately sat as upright as possible and raised my elbow so that my windbreak would catch the wind. Now that was fun riding.
Oct 16 – Elkader Iowa to Dyersville Iowa. (a.k.a. Fields of Dream)
“If you built it, they will come” That was the line from the movie, Fields of Dream.
After riding several miles ,at a crossroad in the middle of no where Cheryl stopped and pulled out her map. Then she offered either riding to Dyersville or Manchester. I replied, of course, Fields of Dream. I lied that I always wanted to see it all my life. Just the fact that, that route meant we will have flat road and a tail wind won hands down for me.
We made the nineteen miles in less than two hours; that means, fast.
Oct 17 – Rest day in Dyersville. After a few very hard days since LaCrosse we took an unplanned rest day to avoid the strong west winds predicted for the day. The past few days we had been “checking in” instead of camping out. It was safe to predict we would continue to do so for the rest of the journey. I persuaded Cheryl to mail the camping gear to Ruth. This means burned our bridges, also means, no choice but to cycle our full distance each day. We packed our load into two big boxes, strapped it down to the bike and carefully cycled to the post office like old fashion days when car were few and people walked or bike. At the counter the man asked some perfunctory questions and one question was any dangerous contents? To which Cheryl replied only dirty laundry and camping gear. My answer would have been “half my suffering and ingredients for a break up”.
We made plans to spend our day being productive. It turned out to be a very lazy afternoon watching TV and drinking local apple wine and eating chips. Never did get to the site where the movie, Field of Dreams was shot. Hey, we built this adventure and we are here, and that was good enough.
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| Baseball field at Fields of Dreams |
Oct 18 – Dyersville Iowa to Anamosa Iowa.
Fourty-three mile day, our longest since Stillwater. A bit sunny in the morning but soon turned cloudy and cold. Wind from NorthWest was mostly at our backs but a few stretches in our faces. Lunch was cold chicken and cold peanut butter sitting in the cemetery huddled behind the tall grass along the cemetery fence. Good tail wind into Anamosa but still very cold when we got there. Dinner at a local winery was another, best of the trip. If there was a restaurant I could revisit, this would be the one of the two places. (No, not the cemetery) The Daly Creek Winery at Anamosa and Hotel Trempealeau,…by car pleeze.
Oct 19 – Anamosa to Iowa City – This is the last day of our ride. Whoa, goanna give it all I got. Forty-six miles to go-bring it on.
Day started sunny again but soon turned cloudy and cold. The temperature is more temperamental than my emotion. It got terribly cold going through Morse. Suddenly, I began to notice the solitude of the land and it was beautiful. Almost made me cry. Maybe because the sky was pale gray tinted with blue, purple and green heavy with low hanging clouds, maybe it was the way the land laid itself out allowing the saddest of all the clouds to rest upon or maybe it was my IPod playing songs from Enya and cluster of grass swayed this way and that to the melody. Definitely it’s the combination of all the above that made it seems like the landscape was reciting melancholic poem. In contrast to the voice of reality breaking my daydreaming by saying, “Hey, why so slow?”
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| As if reciting melancholic poem |
Then we turned south and saw signs saying Iowa City, five point one miles. In certain ball game,its called “The Home Run”. This was it. We have done it. Now we were just trying to beat the rain that had already set it s drizzle upon us. Just when I was getting anxious that we would get lost and end up soak, a van with our friend Andrea came by and stopped to give us directions. It was a jolt to my mind as I had just wished we could somehow bump into her and there she appeared , on her way home when she spotted the two of us. I knew my luck had arrived and soon I will be very happy. Very happy to be done….Have I gown mentally stronger, had our relationship gotten richer, did I find profound meaning for doing this adventure? I need a hot shower and a firm bed to sleep on that question. One thing for sure, I wont be doing a one year bike adventure. Perhaps the answer will come to me on my next adventure….. When we walk the Pilgrimage road to Camino de Santiago.
Hi ya.
ReplyDeleteCan't wait to read/see more of your adventures. Will Max be going with you to Argentina? xoxoxo
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