Archive for the ‘Chronicle’ Category
Pizza Delivered!
We had pizza delivered to our home last night! We learned from our friendly neighbors, George and Rachel, about more local food options when they invited us to join them for dinner at the El Paso Bar & Grill after we finished baling hay over a week ago. They suggested a Chinese take-out restaurant in Ellsworth, which we’ve already tried, and a pizza place that will actually deliver to our location.
With Cyndie now working long days in Anoka, MN, and my food prep skills under-developed, we’ve been relying on restaurants more lately. Even if I was doing the cooking, I wouldn’t have time, as the outdoor work has been keeping me busy until 7 or 8 every night. That’ll change when the sun starts setting noticeably earlier. Gotta get as much done as possible while the days are long. So for now, our dinners haven’t been making much of a mess in the kitchen.
The pizza was good, although the crust was a little under done. It definitely stayed hot on the drive to our house, but probably came out of the oven a tad too soon. It would have made sense for us to put it in our oven for a short bit to crisp it up, but we couldn’t get it separated from the cardboard box well enough to allow that. At least it was covered with plenty of good cheese. We must be in Wisconsin.
We’ll try them again sometime, choosing a different selection of toppings before we make any rash decisions about the overall quality of their pizza.
The food I have been serving has been to our animals. Here is a shot of Dezirea enjoying her morning feed with Delilah looming close in search of any morsels that she can reach. The way that dog fixates on horse and cat food, and even… our pizza, you’d think we never gave her anything of her own to eat.
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Vampires! Horror!
For the second time in two weeks, I was out late on a Monday night. Last week it was for my first chance to see a Twins game in their outdoor ball park. This week, I was in Columbia Heights for the premier showing of the movie “Vampires! Horror!” for which my nephew, Beau Hays, wrote the screenplay & lyrics. He also performed an acting role, along with his wife, Katy.
It is a perfectly campy musical laugh riot. I truly hope they find a way to reach the audience for whom this flick will resonate. …It worked for Rocky Horror Picture Show!
The premier event, complete with a red carpet, was held at the Heights theater, so it meant another drive to the big city for me. Cyndie met me there, since it is close to her work at Anoka/Hennepin school district. I found my brother, Elliott, and his family right as I arrived to park my car. My daughter, Elysa, and her friend, Anne, joined us in the nick of time before the start.
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The theater has a wonderful pipe organ that provided a half hour of entertainment before show time. The seats were mostly filled, which made for a very festive atmosphere. Since it was the premier showing, many in attendance had something to do with the making of the film, a lot of them as extras. It produced a lot of laughter and applause throughout.
Like a musical should, the movie had people humming melodies afterward. It is exciting to imagine the possibilities for what might come of this effort. I’m told they hope to enter it into one or more film festivals, so just maybe local readers will find a chance to see it for yourselves someday. Keep an eye out for that title, “Vampires! Horror!”
It’s a ghastly extravaganza of singing and dancing with wonderful character actors in a hilariously kitschy production. What’s not to love?
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Late Night
I’m running a little slow this morning, after getting home around midnight last night from a trek to Minneapolis to see a Minnesota Twins baseball game with three great friends. It was my first time in the outdoor ball park which made it extra special and helped distract my attention from the tropical dew point that had the area under an excessive heat warning.
Today I will have an opportunity to take the cover off my new wood chipper to see the inner workings. Yesterday, in my rush to get things put away before I headed to the city, I needed to hook the chipper up to the back of the tractor. I pulled the locking pins from the two side mounts and with one in each hand, I reached up to push on the exhaust chute while looking down at the mount post.
In a hilarious way that seemed as if I must have intended to do this, I placed my hand on the chute right at the top near the opening and that locking clip dropped out of my grasp and rattled down inside. Oops.
I got everything parked in the garage, put Delilah in her outdoor kennel, fed the horses and was on my way, connecting with Julie to ride the light rail down to the stadium. It felt rather cosmopolitan to have transitioned so seamlessly from the tractor in my field to taking public transportation to dinner and a ball game in the big city.
We met Rich and Bob at Pizza Lucé for dinner and then walked to Target Field in the thick heat. After a brief tour to see several vantage points, we settled into our assigned seats to enjoy the early innings, from which we could see the left field flags waving, but only rarely felt a hint of the breeze. Midway through the game we set out to explore more of the stadium and to see if we could find more of that moving air, stopping to fill water bottles at the jugs of ice water provided for fan’s convenience. That was a particularly welcome gesture by the Twins organization to aid in keeping spectators hydrated.
We ended up in the very top row out in the left field upper deck, where it was downright comfortable, and from which I was able to spot the apartment building where my son, Julian lives.
I let Julian know and he headed up on the roof of his building where we were able to spot each other from over two blocks away. He said he couldn’t really make out where we were, so I directed him to look right next to the scoreboard and he replied that he could see someone waving.
“That’s Bob and Julie!” I exclaimed.
Simple things can be so rewarding. It goes along with the repeated scenes I witnessed the entire game long, of fans discovering their image was being broadcast on the big screen. Yahoo! Oh, and a baseball game happened, too. A Twins win!
Cyndie was sweet enough to let Delilah out this morning and she fed the horses as she left for work, so I was able to get a few more minutes of rest before facing today. Now I’m going to go find that locking pin that is resting inside the business end of the wood chipper.
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Parting Shots
I will end my series about the 2014 Tour of Minnesota bicycle ride and tent camping week with a few remaining photos to provide a view of some universal scenes. As I reviewed my files to select these, it occurred to me that I am missing a picture of our favorite bike tech, Mike, at our Penn Cycle support van. That is a good thing for me, because it is probably a reflection of my minimal needs in the way of bike repair this year, despite the harsh conditions.
Mike did pause one repair to hand me a pliers from his tool box so I could loosen the nut on my valve stem when I was trying to top off the air in my tires. He is the best combination of capable and humble. Mike is a precious person and major contributor to our good experiences on this ride.
A view of tents set up for the night, followed by the next morning. That would be Rich’s tent, always in the running for the last tent taken down each morning…
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Speaking of Rich, he is a very special friend who, on the morning I felt at my worst during the week, pulled me along for the first leg of the day. That makes a huge difference by the end of the day, having had an easy go of it at the start. I was lucky to share one of the great spectacles of the ride with Rich. I peeked around his shoulder to notice two riders approaching while we were on the Casey Jones Trail. It was just a glance, and my brain struggled to reconcile the information received. The figures we all black, head to toe. On a bike? Could they be women riding in burkas?
What was I thinking? It was gorilla suits, of course. A very hilarious moment for us, giving a high-five to a gorilla riding past us on a bike.
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As always, it is the people who make this ride special. Sharing meals, miles, and all the trials and tribulations of adventure vacations. Special thanks are due to the support crew who handle our bags, so we can ride without needing to carry tents, sleeping bags, and spare clothes.
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A special salute to Bob Lincoln, who accepted the role of leading the ride this year. His was truly a trial by fire, with unprecedented difficulties sprouting at every turn. He handled it all with superb professionalism and produced a fantastic and safe experience for every rider. Thank you, Bob!
One last shot, courtesy of Rich, on the morning of our last day. It was sunny, and we were dry. In the distance was the only spot of the week where we were faced with riding through flood water that was over the road. It soaked my shoes, through and through. It seemed only appropriate.
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Pedaling Upwind
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Seriously, we agreed to go, and even paid for the privilege of riding bicycles in a region that is so windy that they hold National Championship windsurfing competitions and power companies put up wind turbine farms.
What were we thinking?
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Maybe more of us would have thought twice about dealing with that wind if we would have known that the region was also going to be soaked by repeating waves of massive thunderstorms creating flash floods that closed roads, destroyed crops, and trapped a lot of cows.
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We witnessed innumerable fields with large amounts of topsoil sediment dropped in the lowest draining corner, and even more fields with massive amounts of previous year’s dead stalks and debris pushed into piles where it flowed over roads, or dropped in winding patterns when flood waters receded.
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Luckily, the camaraderie and shared accomplishment of like-minded friends proves to be a superb distraction from how miserable we might otherwise feel were we to endure such dreadful conditions alone. Riding while chatting —when the winds aren’t gusting so severely as to make that impossible— is a great way to cover long miles and not notice how far you’ve actually gone. We had opportunities to experience a little of both situations on this year’s ride.
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To Pipestone
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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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Lovin’ Luverne
My journal entry for Monday, June 16th contains the words ‘storm’ or ‘storming’ three times for the one day: “storm coming;” “storming intensifies;” and “still storming.” It was also the first indication of illness for me, as I awoke that morning with a severe and entirely unwelcome sore throat.
It was our off-day from riding and we were in Luverne, MN. I don’t think there is a better place we could have been for our break from riding on this trip, despite Luverne seeming to be the epicenter of the repeating waves of rain soaking thunderstorms inundating the region. The Chamber of Commerce and people of Luverne treated us like royalty.
Sunday night’s dinner was at Blue Mound Banquet Center and included live music. Transportation shuttles were made available to us day and night by Luverne Trolley LLC. There was the drive-in theater party room, and the following night a meeting room at the GrandStay hotel for watching USA in the World Cup. A handful of us met there and ordered pizzas delivered from The Pizza Ranch while flooding rains poured down outside.
We started the morning with a breakfast at Vinnie’s, a place that is deceiving from the outside, and thrilling on the inside, with walls decorated by album covers from my youth and metal lunch boxes hanging from the ceiling. The menus hang on a spring-loaded chain overhead and the breakfasts were home-style-cooked diner delicious. After a walk to a drug store for supplies, we visited “Those Blasted Things” gift shop to check out the rocks and gems, where I got Rich and Mel to pose with the buffalo statue out front.
I was particularly thrilled by the Rock County Courthouse Square gallery building that contains a superb military museum on the upper floors and a gallery of Jim Brandenburg’s photography on the lower levels. Just down the street from there we took a tour of The Hinkly House, built in 1892 by the Mayor at that time, and spectacularly restored and maintained as a National Historic Site.
With the convenience of the Trolley service, we were able to navigate the crazy, intense weather and still take in at least that much of what Luverne has to offer. I was happy to be able to return to the school between a couple of our excursions in time to tighten up the tie-downs on the rainfly of my tent just before one particularly wicked, rotating cloud formation rolled into town at full force.
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Movie Night
What better way to end the crazy day we had navigating around flooding disasters getting to Luverne than by accepting their invitation to use the party room at the drive-in theater to watch the latest remake of “Godzilla?” A handful of us took them up on the offer. Yeah.
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Spectacular Solution
The Sunday of our ride falls on “Father’s Day.” After breakfast this day, we received a special treat: the daughter of our baggage handler and her friend sang a song they composed for the occasion. It brought tears to the eyes and received an immediate and emphatic standing ovation.
It wasn’t raining when we started out, but it was soaking wet from non-stop overnight thunderstorms. We were provided a police escort out of Worthington which moved so fast ahead of us that we could hardly keep up. Out on the open road, we eventually ride into heavy rain again.
Our lunch destination was far enough away that two rest stops were established ahead of it. The 20-plus miles to the first stop seemed long. The 20-some miles from there to lunch felt even longer. I think it was the wind. Rumors could be heard that flooding was causing road closures
Despite the hardships, I had several opportunities to visit with other riders, which is one of the most precious aspects of this ride, and helps toward achieving miles unnoticed. By the time we arrived at our lunch stop, the sky cleared and we were able to enjoy warm sunshine. It felt disorienting, because all around us there seemed to be standing water, and rumor had turned to fact, as news of a dam breaking on the Rock River was confirmed as the cause of roads being closed.
Under the beautiful blue sky, our freshman leader was forced to ad-lib a solution to a very fluid problem. Roads that might be open one minute, could close in an instant. He plotted solutions with 4 different agencies simultaneously, sometimes receiving conflicting reports from each. For a while, even the interstate highway was shut down.
In the middle of that drama, an isolated squall passed by, making sure we stayed aware of the fact we remained at the mercy of momma nature. Then a most spectacular solution unfolded before our eyes. One of the local support people called in a favor and rousted a brother with an 18-wheel tractor/trailer rig. They would put our bikes in the truck, and the riders in buses and cars, to shuttle us around the flooding in order to get us where we needed to be.
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I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been standing right there. The truck arrives and the trailer has “Cycle Country” painted across the side. The driver didn’t seem to notice, reporting that he bought the used trailer simply to haul junk and scrap that he rips out of demolition jobs. A random few of us hop up to catch bikes being lifted up, handing them forward to others who took initiative to delicately position the precious cargo for best protection and fit. A hundred-some bikes, tangled together so there was nowhere for them to fall, filled the trailer right to the end.
The truck pulled away to a smattering of jokes about the probability of the cargo being sold off to the highest bidder in some other town down the road. 
Someone showed up with beer to add to the festive feeling of the unfolding events, and we awaited the arrival of shuttles.
Even before it had completely played out, this day was becoming legend. No matter what else happened to us during the rest of this ride, we already had one very unforgettable event that would join famous stories from the prior 39-years of this biking/camping group.
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Riding Wet
Last week I posted little snippets that describe some aspects of my annual June bike/camping trip. Much about it is the same every year, in a general sense, but each trip has its special moments that go down as memories that stand apart. I will attempt to describe my adventures of this year’s Tour of Minnesota, looking back at it from the comfort of now being warm and dry.
It was a wet year. Here are some headlines for the week from my favorite weather blog, Updraft: “Warm front sets the stage for stormy period,” “Flooding rains drench parts of Minn.; more on the way,” “Severe threat unfolding tonight; tornado watch west,” “Epic flood threat and severe risk continue,” “Uncle! 2014 is wettest year on record so far.”
I have done this ride when there was no rain for the entire week. Other years we have been able to ride dry every day, and rain fell only at night. Often, there will be one or two days when we must endure the inevitably wet day. It was overcast on the Saturday that we started our ride from Jackson, MN, heading for Worthington. I didn’t put on a jacket because I tend to overheat when covered up. It didn’t exactly rain on that first leg, but you could feel a sprinkle of wind-blown wetness that was falling. The sky ahead conveyed the obviousness of the source.
I was thoroughly enjoying chatting with another rider about my new adventure with horses, as the wetness increased and our first rest stop loomed an unknown distance away. She stopped to put on rain gear, but I elected to push on. Real rain was just beginning to fall as I navigated my way beneath the pavilion. Everyone after me was riding in a soaking rain.
During our rest stop, the thunderstorm rolled over us in full force, unleashing a bolt of lightning and crash of thunder that elicited shrieks. We extended our stay under the roof at this rest stop for a bit longer. Ride leader, Bob Lincoln, was monitoring radar and knew there would be no ‘backside’ of this system. He held us in place until the first hint of a reduction in intensity, and then sent us toward our lunch stop.
There are portions of this year’s ride of which I will have no photos to offer. For much of the trip, my camera was bagged and buried in my trunk to keep it dry. We rode through a blustery downpour that continued to be peppered with startling bolts of lightning and cracks of thunder. At this point of soaking wet riding, you suck it up and just accept it. Once you get wet, you don’t need to worry about getting any wetter. You hope to get it over with, paying these dues in search of drier days ahead. Little did we know at the time…
Lunch was under another pavilion, but sitting in the breeze, soaking wet, people were getting chilled. They opened a school for us. There wasn’t as much lightning, but the ride from lunch to Worthington was still pretty wet. The wild weather had forced a change in venue from camping in the park to getting refuge in their school. As I led a small group in search of the new destination, we came upon the National Championship Windsurfing regatta and witnessed all the vendors that had been forced to close down their booths.
Following directions from locals, we pedaled into neighborhood roads that were flooded, forcing us to ad-lib alternate routes. It was only our first day, but by the time I settled into my sleeping bag, perched on the landing of a stairway in a dark hallway in the school, I felt like we had been battling for several.
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