Posts Tagged ‘adventure’
Reality Bit
We got bit by a great big dose of reality yesterday. All that easy gliding down the trail we enjoyed on Sunday was wiped out by our plan of reversing direction and riding back the way we came. That meant climbing 3009 feet one day after draining our bodies with 63 miles of riding the day before.
It was incredibly exhausting which made it harder to take in the glorious scenery.
Spectacular rock formations.
Pine tree forest.
Cactus and yucca plants.
Mule deer right beside the trail.
Wild turkeys.
Beautiful cattle herds.
Freshly cut and baled hay fields.
A hawk sailing overhead and darting around trees.
Horses ranches and riders all over the place.
Odd sightings of abandoned junk cars seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
Crazy Horse carving in the rocks that has barely changed in decades.
Fellow cyclists sharing greetings and gladly visiting when opportunity presents itself.
We are having a great time, but got our butts whooped yesterday.
Today will be a day of rest as planned all along. A much needed rest.
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Mountain Time
Drove through a torrential downpour that limited visibility down to about a half car length. We drove with hazard lights on.
We crossed into the Mountain time zone and gained an hour, making the 9-hour jaunt feel a less taxing in our minds.
Today, we ride south. The scenery around Hill City is beautiful. We are looking forward to the change from sitting on a car seat all day to pedaling down the trail.
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Long Drive
And… we are off! The adventure begins with a day of driving. We are leaving the Twin Cities and heading to Hill City, South Dakota. I laid out what I could think of needing and then stood wondering what I was forgetting. Have I mentioned how much I dislike packing?
I sent that picture to my biking partners on this adventure, Gary and Rich, and they questioned the upside-down footstool. Yeah, that’s not something I’m bringing. Cyndie was cleaning the floor around the bed while I was packing.
Cyndie and I took advantage of one more day at home without animal responsibilities and took in a matinee movie at the theater in Hudson. We didn’t need to ask for the senior discount. The attendant automatically gave it to us. Hmm.
We saw “The Roses,” starring Benedict Cumberbatch and Olivia Colman. With a great supporting cast of comedic actors, we hoped it would be a rip-roaring laugh riot. Being unfamiliar with the novel and the 1989 film this one is based on, we weren’t aware that a “tinderbox of competition and resentments underneath the façade of a picture-perfect couple” was the theme the humor rides upon. The mean streaks were a little harsh.
We capped off the movie outing with dinner at LoLo American Kitchen and Craft Bar in Hudson at such an early hour that it kept us on the theme of feeling like classic senior citizens out on the town.
Now I will be sitting in a car for most of the day today before trying to get my body going on Sunday morning to ride 60 miles of the Mickelson Trail. The motor and battery are installed on my bike, just in case.
I’ll be posting from my phone for a week if all goes as planned. Forgive me in advance if all you find is a single picture. That is an exercise I have long wished to try, picking just one image to feature from a full day of adventures. I have yet to accomplish that discipline, despite its offering the promise of a quicker and easier post.
I wonder if I packed the right charging cable. If I did, I wish I remembered where I stashed it.
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Flirting Danger
Sometimes in life’s adventures, dangerous situations are encountered. Between rainstorms yesterday, Paul, Randy, and I hit the road on our bikes –two of us only figuratively, but for Paul, it was literally.
I suspect his Parkinson’s is playing more and more of a role in his occasions of close encounters with the unforgiving earth while bike riding, but Paul ending up on the ground during bike rides has been happening for as long as we have shared time as cyclists.
Yesterday’s was one of the less forgiving instances. We had just made a decision to extend our planned route based on time available and distance involved and turned left instead of right. As we blissfully rolled along, Paul was behind me. I heard him vocalize a version of “uh oh” and felt his front tire pressing on my rear tire.
If you’ve ever watched much of the Tour de France, you’ll recognize that this situation rarely turns out good. I stiffened up to hold my bike upright as Paul unsuccessfully attempted to decouple us. I could tell by the sound of what followed it wasn’t a soft landing.
He was a bit of a mess, but dodged the calamity of broken bones. I pulled mud out of his helmet and attempted to calm his anger at himself, slowing his breathing so we could take a moment for assessment. Randy squirted some water on his wounds. We aborted our planned extension and headed straight back to the house to temporarily patch him up.
His wife, Beth, was scheduled to arrive by noon to pick him up and drive to visit friends in Upper Michigan for more cycling.
“Hello, honey…” Nice surprise for her. Beth is as stoic as Paul, and they packed his stuff up and headed off for the next adventure without much fuss. Paul texted an update that they visited the ER in Marquette, and he was given the okay to continue with ride plans after fresh applications of antiseptic and clean bandages. No stitches required.
While the more dedicated golfers forged ahead with their games for the rest of the day, despite the rain, the remaining group of us entertained ourselves with card games and a few minutes of televised golf, and a Vikings preseason game before getting in some boating action when the weather got nice.
A cruise on the pontoon led to a visit to Powell’s restaurant across the lake, where cocktails and tossing bags filled the time while we waited for a table.
I’m pretty sure that Joe’s throw fell cleanly through the hole after I snapped that photo. When I checked on the other four guys inside at the bar, I was unable to tell which group was having a better time.
The sun was setting before our food arrived, but nobody cared. Steve had initiated a round of sharing highlight memories each of us had from the many years of this annual adventure, and a lot of love was evident.
Our last flirtation with danger was navigating our way back across the lake after dark with unofficial lighting and me as the designated driver.
I am not a natural boat captain.
With Steve’s expert guidance and help in doing the actual departing and landing, we returned safely to Wildwood, where we reconnected with the other golfers.
Oh, there was one more dangerous act to report. I sacrificed my good health by staying up way too late for the third night in a row to hang out on the deck with music, laughter, heartfelt sharing, and disgusting cigar smoke.
Sometimes it is worth living dangerously.
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Headed Home
Today is the last loop ride of the week, after which we pack up and drive back to our regular lives.
In truth, I don’t think I’ll bother with the biking since my precious Trek bicycle isn’t much fun to ride in the condition it’s in.
I gave it an attempt yesterday, and the crunchy sounds and precarious status of a broken bolt made the ride much less enjoyable.
In contrast, hanging out with great friends is the best part of this annual adventure.
I chose the short option which logged 33 miles past a beautiful patch of the state flower, Lady Slippers, and through scenic iron range terrain.
Yes, there were hills. There was also a persistent drippy, pesky sprinklely drizzly precipitation that barely wetted the ground, but did a good job of messing up our bikes.
Of course, as soon as Steve and I got back to camp, the sky turned blue and hot sunshine prevailed for the rest of the day.
All in all, the weather was far from the worst we’ve endured, the camping was good, and the northern Minnesota scenery was as beautiful as ever.
My body was in better shape than my bike. I keep threatening that I don’t want to continue to do this ride every year, but oh how I would miss these friends if I were to finally stop.
I plan to drop off my bike for service on the way home. Then comes the post-trip cleaning and drying of gear, followed by a luxurious sleep on a real bed again.
Adventures with friends are great, but gee, it’ll be great to be back home!
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Interesting Day
I recognized his face right away, but it took a second to figure out from where. When he turned to me and instantly recognized me, we both quickly knew it was PHI.
It was John Newman from the Lab at Physical Electronics. Finding him in the kitchen of a Catholic Church in Ely, Minnesota where the Knights of Columbus were serving us breakfast was a wonderful surprise.
We shared the classic life comparison that follows “What are you doing here!?”
We biked mostly roads to Babbit and back before packing our gear to drive down to Chisholm.
After dinner, some stretching was needed before the walk back to our tents.
My bike was back with the mechanics again to continue their efforts at silencing the ratchety creaking.
Efforts were suspended after a screw sheared that will require more work than they are able to provide from their mobile repair trailer.
I’m going to try gently riding it as is today and see how it does. I will have the phone number for the sag driver handy, if things don’t go well.
It was an interesting day.
Happy Juneteenth today!
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Constant Shifting
We rode from Ely to Tower after barely surviving the epic downpour on Monday night.
I took a picture of the high water mark where floating debris remained after the flood receded.
Just a little further and our tents would have been inundated.
Riding was superb on this leg of the Mesabi trail.
In the photo, I am secretly trying to hold Steve’s pack so he can pull me while I coast.
The up and down gyrations of this trail forced the most shifting of gears that I’ve done in a long, long time.
Eventually, the sky cleared up so we could dry things out after we returned to our tents in Ely.
It looked like the tent had regurgitated its contents.
In honor of Rich’s sharing his photos with me to use here, I will close with a shot he took that features him prominently.
Thanks, again, Rich!
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Almost Packed
Today, I depart for the annual Tour of Minnesota biking and camping week. I think this will be my 26th time in the 31 years since I first tried my legs at long-distance cycling. I guess you could say I found out I liked it.
I almost finished packing last night.
The bag currently weighs in at 45 lbs. That’s not a concern this year because the tour has changed from them hauling our gear from campsite to campsite, to riders needing to drive their own cars to each destination after biking a loop that day. Unless this new routine really ‘wows’ me, I believe this will be my last year riding the TOM.
What brought me back this year? The people who have become treasures whom I get to share the week with, submersed in the great outdoors and pedaling together for long hours over many miles.
One of the things I find challenging about packing for trips is the number of things I am still using, and thus don’t get packed until the last minute. After that, my challenge becomes trying to recall where I put things that did get packed.
Usually, I end up figuring out a system by the 3rd or 4th day, but by the end of the week, I’ve started tossing things anywhere and everywhere, and my duffel bag becomes a big mess. The amount of chaos in my bag is often related to how rainy the week has been.
This year, the forecast looks like a good chance of rain up north. We are starting in Grand Rapids, then heading up to Ely for two nights before coming back to Chisholm. I predict my bag will end up messy.
I’ve not prepared any posts in advance this year. Hopefully, I will be able to connect to the internet through my phone and, at the very least, provide an image or two each day.
Northern Minnesota Iron Range, here we come!
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Regular Adventures
Over the years, much of my old wardrobe that I haven’t been able to part with has ended up in a closet at the lake. It is always a fun moment for me to rummage through the variety of shirts to pick an old favorite to decorate my day when we are at Wildwood.
We packed up early yesterday and then waited for the delivery of our new oven. As the appointed hour neared, I hopped on a bike and rode up to the end of the driveway to help guide the truck to our place. After almost 60 minutes of riding circles and watching traffic pass by, I came back to the house because I was getting chilly.
As I walked in, I heard Cyndie on the phone with the appliance place, and they were telling her the guys are on their way. I didn’t go back out again. Turned out I didn’t need to. Moments later, they were at the door. Old stove out, new one in, connected, leveled, and calibrated without any complications.
Too bad we weren’t hanging around long enough to bake the first batch of cookies in the new oven.
It was good to get home and find everything mostly in order, and the animals happy to see us. The gardens are growing well, the raccoons got into the bin of kitchen compost, and there is evidence that Asher did some unauthorized digging in the yard.
The jewel weed is looking about as happy as we’ve seen it in years. It’s hard to tell which of the two plants wants to spread out more: the strawberry patch that Cyndie’s trying to rein in or the wild jewel weed.
It rained off and on all weekend at home, but there was barely a quarter of an inch showing in the rain gauge. It hardly looks like the lawn grass has been neglected. I think I’ll get away with waiting closer to the end of the week to mow before I’m gone for the next week on the bike trip.
It’s time to really appreciate the luxuries of my bed and private bathroom, because that comes to a temporary end by Saturday. My countdown is definitely on, looking forward to the next adventure.
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Pretty Colors
Have I written much about the weather lately? When I’m trying to pretend my country isn’t spiraling ridiculously down the proverbial drain, the weather provides a convenient distraction. One thing I appreciate about weather is that the conditions I experience right outside our door are the pure truth. It is hard to gaslight me and tell me that the snow falling isn’t actually falling when I can see it absolutely is.
In the dark of night last evening, we could hear the pelting rain on the roof, but the radar image of the storm revealed the full gamut of what was swirling our way.
So many pretty colors! I am curious what we will find when dawn breaks. The ground was completely covered in white when we headed for bed last night.
We have been warned about the probability of heavy, wet snow in the amounts of 4-8 inches. I’m not looking forward to the effort of pushing wet snow off the driveway with the ATV plow. At least I have the benefit of sun and melting temperatures expected to follow this batch of precipitation. I can get away with doing a rudimentary job of exposing pavement. Solar energy will clean up the asphalt in short order.
My plan at the beginning of this week was to head out today for a solo mini-vacation to the lake for a few days. Cyndie just returned from California for the second visit in several weeks and will be leaving for Florida next week, so my getaway is a chance to balance the workload of taking care of the ranch alone.
I will relish the time free from dog walking and horse care since they become my exclusive priorities whenever Cyndie is away. I love the job, I really do, but I also love the opportunity to stay in bed for as long as my brain and body desire and then do whatever I want for the rest of a day without worrying about any other tasks that need to happen.
Sometimes, the best adventure is no adventure at all. Or, the adventure is in following whatever whim shows up and letting it play out for as long as it holds interest before dashing off after whatever shiny thing grabs one’s attention next.
I’m only slightly embarrassed to admit how often the adventure I long to experience involves lounging in bed well past a decent hour and falling back to sleep whenever sleep beckons. Some of the best dreams come to me in the morning hours. My mind is most creative in the morning. I have found that most of the time when I have mentally conjured up solutions to the world’s problems, it has been before dawn. Like a dream, I tend to forget those solutions by breakfast time.
Maybe tomorrow, I will wake up at the lake and take a crack at the long, slow effort to get out of bed. It all depends on when snow stops falling and how long it takes me to plow and shovel pathways for Cyndie to navigate while I’m gone.
That is today’s adventure.
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