Top/bottom ten

The greatest hits and worst miseries of the tour, not necessarily in order of how good or bad they were and not necessarily ten of each:

Tour top 10:

New York week (after the first 50 miles) -Finger Lakes/wading in Lake Ontario after a cold front came through, temperature and humidity went down, tailwind all morning; up and down through the Adirondacks, beautiful day in Lake Placid. If you took away the first 50 miles and replaced them with the first 50 miles of the next week, this could be #1.867CEBD3-27F5-4014-AACC-1FC37BBC5BE8

Wisconsin week – Cannon Trail, the Great River Rd., Baraboo Bluffs/Devils Lake/Merrimac ferry, Kettle Moraine Scenic Drive. Great roads and no traffic all week. (Visits from family and friends put this one over the top, but it was already great.) 

The ride into Baraboo contained the single steepest climb of the entire trip ( a short stretch of Terrytown Road). 

The Sparta to Elroy Trail, while the first Rails-to-Trails conversion, has been surpassed by several others. It was actually the low point of the week. While the tunnels are a novelty, riding for 30+ miles on gravel is not my cup of tea and takes a toll on the bike. I know, gravel riding is the new thing, but I’d rather ride on pavement if given the choice. 

I’m almost reluctant to admit that the area I ride regularly was the high point, but it also assures me that I live in the right place.AA48B9A9-93D9-405F-B4A3-8637855C927A

Needles highway/Black Hills/Badlands – The Needles Highway was the single high point. This was a magical fairyland, otherworldly in its beauty. I am amazed that I never knew of this place. I could ride that road ten more times and still see new things. The area was phenomenal and the road was the best we rode in >4300 miles.   E2692CEC-A68A-498A-9B90-C0D7F1978AC7

The Badlands are also otherworldly. Different, in that they can be seen as bleak in broad daylight, but change minute-by-minute in early morning light. Like Needles Highway, I wanted to ride that same road again at sunset after riding it at sunrise. 

 

Bike path through Grand Teton National Park, climbing Teton Pass, descending to Jackson Hole and a great bike path. The path through the park kept us away from traffic and in view of the mountains. I met Santa Claus at the foot of Teton Pass, along with a group riding from Texas to Alaska. The pass was steep and tough, getting steeper as it went. Standing at the top of the pass was a feeling of accomplishment and gave a great view of the valley below. After descending to the valley we were led on a secluded path into town. The valley is well set up for bicycles, with paths connecting the towns.

 

Thompson Pass – first time over the continental divide and first big pass, descent into Thompson Falls, a town mostly owned by a single family, where we saw their bar, ice cream shop, catering service, and bus service.

Devils Tower. A campground situated right at the base of the tower. The tower itself rises out of nothing. It is not part of a mountain range but, like Ayers Rock in Australia, is just there. It is no surprise that it was used as the backdrop/centerpiece of “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”. 9DCB1F78-14DE-4EBC-9051-1754A42439FD

The margarita party was our first real chance to sit down as a group and just hang out together. 

Smugglers Notch. A day that started with threatening weather that never fully materialized. The pass enveloped by clouds as we ascended, never really sure how high it was, on the approach or while actually climbing it. A climb that was over before I realized it; not because it was easy (it wasn’t) but because the top was invisible until we were there. The steepest descent of the trip, made hazardous by the wet pavement so we took it slowly. 

 

Bottom 10:

Riding 105 miles in 40° rain. The camaraderie made it tolerable. A day that I would have stayed in bed had I been on my own. 

Climbing a mountain pass in a hailstorm. Another day saved by a group – the same group. As Greg told me before the trip, the 70 degree and sunny days will all blend together, but it is the days like this that will make lasting memories. 

72 mile ride that turned into 102 mile ride, the last 1/3 into a brutal headwind, finishing with a helmet splitting crash in an endless industrial waste land. The only day that I wanted the van to stop for me. I got back on the bike and rode the final ten miles, so I did ride EFI. We stopped at a convenience store for a cold drink and found other riders draped over coolers and freezers. Misery loves company.

The first half of that day was actually really nice. 

Mile after mile of horrendous pavement,90+ degree heat, and endless headwinds across the Great Plains.

Mile after mile of flat and boring countryside in Michigan with bad highways and rude drivers.

Re-entering the US at Niagara Falls and riding 50 miles before getting into the countryside.

Bone jarring expansion cracks through Central Minnesota.

Hill City to Custer – uphill, bad headwind, relentless sun/heat, horrendous traffic, grooved pavement causing painful whining noise – and there was a reasonable alternative route nearby.

A few random thoughts:

  • had some great encounters with bikers (of the Harley persuasion) – both on-the-road salutes and chats at the roadside.
  • In the first week I waved to a Corvette behind me to acknowledge it and, as it passed, I saw a peace sign flashed out through the T-top.
  • A random motorcyclist flipped me the bird for no apparent reason.
  • A friendly bar owner brought watermelon out to us on a hot, dry, and windy day.
  • On another hot day I stopped in a coffee shop for an iced coffee and the air conditioning was so cold I just hung out for awhile. It was a day when I realized getting somewhere was only a small part of the plan.
  • When I walked into a brewpub, I was met by applause. Another rider had arrived before me and told our story and they knew I was part of that group.
  • Greg repeatedly referred to the Lake Michigan ferry crossing as “The shortest longest day”. We rode only 40 miles but got into camp with just enough time to pitch our tents before it got dark.
  • Somewhere out west (I think on the Tetons day) a Russian couple riding from Denver to Seattle stopped in and joined us for lunch.
  • On another day, in the middle of nowhere, I happened upon a scruffy-looking guy walking his bike in the opposite direction. I asked if he needed help. He said, “Is the next town about 4 miles ahead?” I agreed that it was. He thanked me and kept walking. (Only 4 miles from town it wasn’t really the middle of nowhere – it just seemed like it.)
  • The look of incredulity when I told some kids at a lemonade stand (on our last day) that I had ridden >4300 miles for that lemonade.

That’s it for now folks. Daily life is intruding on my writing time. I have a sewer line to clear and more. Posts will be a little more irregular after today. Maybe when my bike gets here I’ll look at the odometer and give you my total mileage. Maybe not. Numbers don’t really say what I want to say. Thanks for joining me on this journey. It’s been real.

I’m not going away entirely. As Phil Ochs said:

Two…two…two rides in one!

We started the day soaking wet as usual. I tried packing my sleeping bag in a different duffel from the tent, in hopes of keeping it dryer. The tent fly is double-bagged in zippered plastic bags.

We started riding on the same path we ended on yesterday. After a few miles it became fairly impressive. The path claims to be in the Rails-to-Trails Hall of Fame, something which I didn’t know existed. It was about as wide as a town road, leaving plenty of room to ride side-by-side or to pass people with dogs and/or strollers. The pavement was good. Intersections were well-marked. The only problem was the frequency of intersections, all with stop signs and limited visibility. Since the limited visibility was due to the forest we were riding through, I can’t complain.

The stop signs actually provided the only variable in the morning. Otherwise we rode at a constant 19 mph for the first 35 miles.  I rode with Ole Steve until lunch.

We left the trail and rode through Midland, home of Dow Chemical and (if memory serves) the childhood hometown of the only DAR I know.

There is a Dow High School and a Dow Museum. Whether they have a display featuring the uses of Napalm, I don’t know. Leaving Midland, things turned ugly.

We rode through miles of industrial wasteland on busy roads, which gave way to miles of not-quite-suburbs and not-quite-farm country. The roads are straight and flat with suburbs that never seemed to coalesce giving way to corn, bean, and beet fields. Even in the rural area there seems to be a grid system of roads every mile. 

There is a lively electoral campaign for Road Commissioner. One candidate’s signs say, “Fix our roads now!” I saw and felt his point. The road is beyond repair. Jackhammers, new road bed, and new pavement appear to be the solution.

There are crack-filled ruts corresponding to the four paths worn by vehicle wheels. The shoulders are crumbling. 

We arrived in the tourist town of Frankenmuth. I stopped for ice cream and walked through town before heading to our campsite at Jellystone Park. “Toy Story 2” is showing in the camp theatre tonight. I don’t know if I can stay up that late. A moot point, as our dinner and meeting ran well into the movie.

Dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow are in dueling restaurants across the street from each other. Greg says a local family controls much of the town but an internecine feud resulted in part of the family opening a restaurant across the stree from the already-existing family-owned restaurant. To keep the peace we eat in both.

3000 miles!

Today we crossed the 3000 mile mark. Since leaving Seattle on Father’s Day, I have now logged over 3000 miles (including incidental miles running around various towns).

Today we rode 95 miles from Ludington to Farwell. Lunch was in the resort town of Idlewild. This was an African-American resort with a nightclub  that attracted top-level African-American acts when black people were not allowed into whites-only clubs. If you zoom into the photos you should be able to read the history of the area. If too fuzzy, let me know in the comments and I can attach larger files next time. (Or follow the links to read the history. The woman featured in the first article came down to meet us.) We ate lunch across from the Flamingo Club.

Wading in Idlewild Lake, Idlewild Lake.

Much of the afternoon was on a paved bike path. The path started at an old train depot. In the Colorado Rockies jersey (middle) is Ed, whose father-in-law used to run a grocery store where Burnie’s Rock Shop is now.

In the middle of nowhere I came upon a Little Free Library, complete with chair and table. The library had skylights for lighting. I just needed an espresso while I read. No barista in sight.

Are we there yet?

Since this is the closest we get to my house, it’s time for another local favorite, and a question I have asked many times already:

We started our morning with a great breakfast at Ginny’s Cupboard in Sparta. The route quickly left the streets and entered the Sparta to Elroy Trail, where we would spend most of the morning. The trail includes 3 tunnels, one of them over 3800 feet long. Water drips from the ceiling and runs down drainage ditches along the walls. In some parts of the tunnel there is a steady rain. Even with a good light, the tunnels require walking. Photos: tunnel entrance, the light at the end of the tunnel, rock cairn outside of the tunnel

 

 

The surface is “crushed limestone”, mostly hard-packed dirt. Even so, the surface was better than a lot of the chip-sealed highways out west, and there are no trucks flying by at 80 mph.

Still, it was good to get back on roads for the afternoon. We started on state highway 33, which could have been any highway anywhere. We soon turned off onto town roads and I started grinning. Now this is Wisconsin riding!

We rode up and down ridges with short, steep climbs, big vistas at the top, fast descents, no traffic. After our afternoon water stop we were on flatter roads, but still no traffic and iconic Wisconsin farmland. Saving the best ‘til last, we turned onto Terrytown Road. If my instruments are correct, we climbed 50 feet in 0.05 mile, which would translate to a 19% grade. It continues steeply, though not quite that steep, for a bit farther before returning to rolling hills and on into Baraboo. Photos: Terrytown Road vista, Terrytown Road (not the steep part)

 

 

 

 

Photos from Tuesday: Sunrise over Twin Bluffs, Nelson, WI; Viking statue, Buffalo City, WI.

 

 

Final photos: Rock-in-house (viewed from back yard and through bedroom door) Yes, the bedroom is completely filled by the rock.

Graeme met someone else from Melbourne on the trail and said, “Five weeks I’ve been here and she’s the first one who understands me.”

Tomorrow (today as you read this), if I guess right, we will ride through Devil’s Lake State Park (called Devil’s Lake by the white folks because the real name, which translates more closely as “Spirit Lake”, or “Sacred Lake” must have referred to the Devil since it didn’t refer to Jesus) and ride the Merrimac Ferry.

I expect to be joined by two friends and my son; all half-fast, if you ask me.