Relative Something

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The way my mind works, I’ve got the perception that it rained on us every day except the very last, but the opening line of my journal entry for Tuesday, June 17 is, “Did not rain during the ride.” This was the day that our ride leader, Bob, got up extra early along with a few others and set out on a scouting mission to ascertain the integrity of our planned route. Also from my journal entry: “Only 1 detour required due to flood.”

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When I left home for the start of this trip, I was in Wisconsin. We drove across much of the width of Minnesota to reach the departure for the bike ride. On Sunday we rode a stretch into Iowa and back again. Now, Tuesday, we crossed into South Dakota, reaching Devil’s Gulch Park in Garretson. I achieved 4 states this week! I’m glad we aren’t required to have passports to traverse state borders.

The park wasn’t actually open, but they were kind enough to accommodate us and our bikes, even though staff were in the middle of trying to reconstruct the entry road that had been washed out by flooding. We enjoyed quite a spectacle in seeing the gulch at a time when flood water was raging through.

The myth associated with this gulch is that in 1876 outlaw Jesse James spurred his horse to leap across the 20-foot gorge, escaping a posse that was after him. I’m in the camp of those who consider this myth to be a tall tale used to enhance the allure of the park. It’s really not necessary when the water is high. There was some powerful water energy raging through that ravine while we were there, making our visit well worth the diversion.

Our lunch stop in Jasper was at a park. Most everywhere we paused for a snack or meal we found ourselves forced to navigate standing water around pavilions. This park offered the added adventure of trying to use picnic tables that were engulfed in the branches of a fallen tree. It seemed so darn appropriate for the type of week we were having that people simply carried on as if it was a normal everyday thing.

When we arrived at Pipestone and showered, I was feeling pretty lousy with my sore throat and developing cold symptoms. I passed up a chance to go see Blue Mounds State Park and took a nap in my tent, instead.

When I awoke, I discovered that my tent neighbor, first-year rider, Doobie, had landscaped his front yard and assembled a welcome mat. Priceless.

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If there is any truth to the familiar advice to “feed a cold and starve a fever,” I was a champion of feeding my cold this night. After a complete meal with ice cream for dessert, I accepted an offer to walk to another restaurant for pie. Luckily, Julie shared bites of hers, because there was no way I could eat a piece by myself. I was stuffed.

Even though we didn’t ride in rain this day, that doesn’t mean it didn’t rain. My journal entry for Tuesday closes with: “Lightning show with thunder and rain while I was writing this in tent before sleeping.”

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