Posts Tagged ‘adventure’
Cannon Falls to Red Wing and Back
Day 1 of riding the 50th Tour of Minnesota.
One fine thing about today is that we won’t need to take down our tents first thing in the morning. We will be camping in the same place tonight. Today’s riding is all on the Cannon Valley trail, which I just rode a little over a week ago. The difference will be starting and finishing in opposite cities. As a result, the first leg down to Red Wing will be dropping in elevation and the return to Cannon Falls will be a steady incline.
It is a subtle impact but doesn’t go unnoticed.
The route looks like this on our maps:
I’ll be watching the weather radar to decide when I really want to leave and may consider not traveling all the way to Red Wing depending on the timing of predicted morning thunderstorms. Of course, if my friends want to brave the weather, I’m a sucker for a little peer pressure.
The trip has started for real!
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50th Tour of Minnesota
I haven’t left home yet but my vacation week begins today! As I’ve done many other times, during my week of cycling the Tour of Minnesota and tent camping in various towns around the state, I have prepared scheduled posts for the days I’m away showing the planned routes so you can follow along and know our approximate location when the inevitable severe weather warnings pop up.
I wish that was a joke, but anecdotal evidence indicates wicked storms are becoming more the norm than the exception during the middle of June in Minnesota. In years past, I have ridden out storms in my tent while many others chose to sleep en masse in school buildings. After a too-close lightning strike one night and a screaming alarm on my phone indicating an imminent tornado another night, I realized I could no longer trust my judgment. I intend to be quicker to join the throngs indoors this year if warnings are posted.
The changing climate likes to point out these are not my father’s thunderstorms. Message received.
This being the 50th anniversary of this middle-of-June biking and camping week and my 25th (+/- my first year was 1994, but I missed a few throughout), I am thrilled at the switch from the far reaches of the state –over the years we’ve slipped into every state around Minnesota plus Canada– to a route that will take us directly through the middle of the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul.
Somewhere between 250 and 300 people will gather this afternoon in Cannon Falls, MN to pick up our registration packets and set up tents to kick off the most fun like-minded cyclists could possibly have. I can’t wait to see Doobie, Joyce, Joey, Rich, Julie, Steve, Gary, John, Jim, Steve, Roger, Dick, Al, Suzanne, Laura, Rhonda, David, Tim, Cynthia, Scott, Luther, Joseph, Marilyn, Geoffrey, Ed, Deanna, Mary-Jo, Luke, Staci, Jennifer, Dan, Jim, Peggy, Lance, Mary, Cindy, Scott, Jackie, Mary, Jerry, Ellen, Joan, Melanie, Dusty, Karen, Dick, Jan, Pat and the rest whom I will recognize but not remember their names, plus the many people who I will be meeting for the very first time.
Here’s hoping for a safe and adventure-filled week pedaling two wheels and sleeping on the ground with friends.
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Reclaiming Fences
In addition to regaining the upper hand on our trails, I think I mentioned that I’ve worked some fence lines, too. Yesterday, after I got home from a successful morning of shopping, I strapped on the Stihl power trimmer and headed to the far side of the hay field to make the fence visible again.
I burned through two tanks of gas but probably haven’t reached the halfway point yet. It’s taking so long because we didn’t get after this earlier and now the grass is so tall and thick it takes twice as long to knock it all down.
The days to departure for my week of biking and tenting are dwindling faster than the amount of work I’d like to complete around the property can be achieved. I’m splitting my attention between tending to things outdoors and gathering my gear in the house to pack. Half attention to each goal tends to result in half-sized results for both.
It is what it is. In the end, time always wins. I’ll get done what I can and pack up and go when it is time to go.
As of last night, my weather app showed this forecast for Saturday through Thursday: an alternating percentage chance of storms or rain each day, 50%; 40%; 50%; 40%; 50%; 40%.
Oh, joy.
Like I’ve said, that’s why we call it adventure!
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Reclaiming Trails
Counting down the days until my next Tour of Minnesota adventure, I popped out for a 2-hour loop on local roads for a 25-mile bike ride yesterday morning. Picking a route with roads I’ve not ridden before, I found myself climbing a curvy road that rose skyward to such a degree I needed to walk my bike up a good portion of it. This had me wondering if I’d made a mistake in doing my Monday morning exercise routine before asking my legs to work so hard on a ride.
The highlight of this ride was discovering an old man seated on his walker on the side of the road a long way from any buildings. What caught my eye at first was a couple of fine-looking cats that seemed out of place in the middle of nowhere. As the road I was on ended at this crossroad, my mind was contemplating which direction I wanted to turn when I finally noticed Mr. Meyer facing to my left, looking oblivious to my arrival.
I offered a greeting and rolled up beside him to chat. The cats were his and followed him on his walks. He told me he was 93 and this was the spot where he turns around after resting for a spell. We had a wonderful visit until both of us felt a need to get moving again before stiffening up.
Limiting myself to just two hours of riding got me home in time to join Cyndie in tackling a few chores on the property. First, I pulled out the chainsaw and we removed recently tipped trees that were leaning precariously across two different trails. From there, I switched to the power trimmer to whack a trail from the jungle of overgrowth taking over while Cyndie used our ratcheted lopper to cut back encroaching trees and branches.
It is very rewarding to reclaim space from the relentless growth that overtakes our trails this time of year. It seems to get easier each time since what needs cutting is all new growth, not well-established thick-stemmed plants that foil the string trimmer.
I made my way through two tanks of gas in the trimmer, moving on to work along the back pasture fence line and around the footbridge over the drainage ditch before going as far as I could up one of the narrow internal trails.
We’ve barely covered a fraction of the trimming that needs to be done so this project will be ongoing for multiple days. We’d like to get all the fence lines cleared because the guy who cuts and bales our hay field is planning to come as soon as he gets all his own fields tended. It makes it easier for him to cut close if the fence is clearly visible.
That was plenty of exercise for one day. I may take advantage of the predicted rain due this morning to do a little shopping before departing for the Tour on Saturday. It’s time to pull out all my camping gear and take inventory. I haven’t used any of it since last year’s Tour. Hope I remember where I put everything.
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Hanging On
It feels like we are waiting for the grand chorus of an epic chart-busting anthem to crescendo and meld all the disparate elements of our lives into a satisfying resolution of peaceful bliss. Another way of saying, “another day, another dollar.” Every day is unique but it feels like the same things keep happening in each different day.
Bright sunshine. Big booming dark clouds. Gushing flood of rainfall. Bright sunshine. Hot steam evaporating. Insects hatching. Humidity rising. Big booming dark clouds return.
Between the dramatic downpours, we try to chip away at one or two outdoor projects that we can achieve despite the swampy conditions left by the cloudbursts.
Being quarantined on our property for the last three weeks has served to make me aware that it is unusual for us not to go out for some reason this many days in a row. Oh, wait, we drove up to get Asher last weekend. I already forgot. Never mind.
I’m just getting punchy because I haven’t felt like doing much of anything, yet innumerable things deserve to be done. I include getting some extended hours on my bike seat which hasn’t happened in far too long despite the Tour of Minnesota week of riding starting in just ten days.
Weather, or not. [it’s a battle to play with words with autocorrect on]
And you can bet we will see some weather while pedaling the pavement and camping in tents. In the 25 years I’ve ridden this adventure in June, there was only one time that the weather was gorgeous every single day. It was my first year in 1994.
I am doing my best to hang on to my sensibilities and accept whatever happens next. Planning has become optional.
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Impact Crater
Just a few days after someone alerted me to a local site of an impact crater, I got out for my first bike ride of this year and explored a route that traveled nearly through the center according to the maps.
I was exploring roads that I was unfamiliar with and ended up riding on an unpaved road for a while. It meandered through a beautiful forested area that felt far removed from the many open farm fields that dominated much of my views.
There were so many undulations on almost every road, I never got any sense of the actual geological structure of the crater that was created by the hypervelocity impact some 450-433 million years ago.
It being my inaugural ride of the season, I relied on the electric assist almost the entire time. Without the marvel of the heavy battery and motor, I would never have been able to complete over 37 miles of such hilly terrain. And at just under three hours, my butt was wishing I’d have chosen a much less arduous distance and route.
The motor was particularly appreciated when I turned into the west wind which seemed to keep increasing with the climbing afternoon temperatures. When I got home, our thermometer indicated 74°F.
It didn’t feel that warm to me, but I blame the wind. By bedtime last night, my face felt windburn and my arms and legs felt like they had been taxed to their limits. Excellent indications I had enjoyed a great adventure.
So great, I’m going to give myself a day off today from taxing my muscles any more than what it takes to accomplish some dog walking and manure management. Maybe I’ll read more about the Rock Elm Disturbance.
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Weather Luck
My assessment at the end of our bike ride on the hills around Wintervale is displayed visibly in this image captured by Beth Bertelson:
It rained much of Friday night but we woke up to a pause in the precipitation and the ground was only a little damp outside. However, radar evidence indicated another batch of potentially heavier rain moving in our direction at a rate that would put it over us right when we wanted to head out.
Undaunted, the group of my friends who ventured the roughly hour-long drive to our place were going through the preparations to ride without hesitation.
As the minutes closed, I sensed the trend of movement on that next mass of wet weather was going to slide just south of our location. Instead, we ended up getting a dose of ground fog that faded the beauty of the fall colors and obscured the distance view of the horizon at the high spot that usually offers the best vista.
Soon after descending the invigorating glide down from that potential view, the fog dissipated and the dryer air hinted we were going to be granted perfect conditions for our time on the road.
One highlight of having my cycling friends join me on these roads was the combination of ride buddies from two different worlds. There were people I met on the annual June rides now known as the Tour of Minnesota and two riders I grew up knowing in Eden Prairie, Minnesota.
Paul and I have known each other since grade school and shared a number of epic biking adventures over the years. That shot is taken at Vino in the Valley restaurant near the Rush River. You can see in the background we were blessed with periods of blue sky at the midpoint of our route.
After a pause on a bridge by a limestone cliff, we started the long, slow climb up the steep hill that marks the transition between the two worlds of lush valley and wide open farm fields.
We made it back to Wintervale in perfect time and celebrated our accomplishment with a delicious lunch feast. The laughter and riding afterglow was precisely what I was longing for and very reminiscent of the week-long Tour of Minnesota we have every June.
Cyndie and I added a few tours of our forest, the labyrinth, visits to the horses and interactions with Asher to top off a perfect adventure that fit surprisingly well between bouts of inclement weather.
We needed the rain and I really wanted to ride with friends. I am very lucky that I was able to have both. Overnight last night we received 1.25 inches of rain. Ahhh. Perfect timing.
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Lake Adventures
Despite a brief rain shower in the morning, Friday at the lake was filled with adventure along our shoreline. With my mind mulling over the landscaping work awaiting attention along our driveway at home, I took up the beach rake and resumed the fine art of reclaiming sand that has washed off the beach into the water.
There is a mind-boggling amount of raking and soil preparation I’ll be doing at home soon, so playing with the rake on the beach is just a warmup for the next event.
We got a glimpse of a real-life nature show when baby snapping turtles started emerging from a hole on the beach.
It’s an annual occurrence but still a thrill to witness each time we see it. Cyndie searched for facts about the process after I wondered how many survive because so many tiny turtles wandering into the water –cute at this stage of their lives, for a snapping turtle– gives the impression the lake could be teeming with the creatures.
Some surprising details I learned: the female can carry viable sperm for three years. Clutches of eggs laid can range from roughly 20 to 40 or more. At dinner last night, Marie asked how many were showing up on our shore. Before Cyndie had looked it up, I answered with a wild guess that tracks and turtle sightings were numbering in the twenties or thirty.
Wasn’t far off, although information suggested a larger percentage will never even reach the point of hatching. Our batch must have been hearty survivors out of the shell. Unfortunately, only a small percentage of those who made it to the water will avoid fatal encounters.
The list of potential predators is long, including other snapping turtles. I prefer to think our trophy-sized muskies are feasting on them. One resident adult snapping turtle in our bay is more than enough in my mind.
After a refreshing swim and a period of floating on the big waves rolling in from the south, we noticed neighbor Eric’s sailboat had come unmoored and was teetering along our rocky shore. Cyndie’s brother, Steve, hustled up to report it and found Eric wasn’t around.
I joined Steve in a rescue operation using the ski boat to pull the anchored buoy farther out and then corralling the sailboat to tow just as Eric showed up. He had been in town for lunch and to buy material for improving the buoy anchor when he got the message his boat was loose.
Meanwhile, word from Wintervale is that care for Asher and the horses is a joy (don’t we know it) and all is well. That’s such a blessing for us and allows for worry-free absorption in the adventures our lake place offers.
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Much Fun
The mental energy I allocate to the annual Tour of Minnesota biking and camping adventure takes up a lot more time than just the actual week of riding. I tend to have the topic of navigating trip details turning up in my nighttime dreams year-round. Physical conditioning before the start in June has me thinking about the event during April and May. For weeks after I get home, the energy and emotions of the fun times stay in my head well after real-life distractions have returned in full.
I don’t have any pictures from the great escape I participated in with seven others while in Alexandria. We solved the puzzles to open the locked door with twelve seconds to spare, freeing ourselves from becoming the next test subjects of the sinister Mr. Hyde. Luckily, the guide paused our clock when she had to enter the room to open a lock that wasn’t responding to our correct combination of numbers. Such excitement.
Obviously, the weather toyed with us a bit, getting the roads and trails just wet enough on the first day to cause a soaking spray off our tires even after the precipitation had ended. Later, the storms just happened to magically form directly overhead and linger at length without moving. Maybe we should auction our services to other area farmers who need rain.
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First, it happened in Sauk Centre and then the next day in Little Falls. If you can find the little blue dot pin in the images above, that shows our location each time. At least we were done riding by the time those downpours occurred.
Other random silliness:
Steve posing for me on the enticing relic of a bicycle-powered reel lawn mower. He’s gonna need to move the seat up on that one before using it.
At first, I had no plan of posing as a Viking warrior in Starbuck. Next thing I know, I’m right in the middle of the action between Joseph and Scott. My attempt at a grimace looks suspiciously similar to my usual smile. Also, my version of a Viking verbalization sounded more like a pirate than anything else. I assume there were some pirate Vikings so I was just reflecting that.
After someone gave Jennifer an ice cream sandwich while she was eating lunch, she began eating both at the same time. It was hot. The ice cream was melting. Problem solved.
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In trying to split the difference between authorized tenting location and shade from the sun, a bunch of us put our tents near the school in Alexandria. Lights from both inside and outside the school stayed on all night long. The picture above on the right was taken at 10 p.m. It was still that bright when I checked five hours later after my full bladder woke me. Luckily, bright light doesn’t stop me from falling asleep.
While on a pause from pedaling at a park in Glenwood, I noticed Tom, Rick, and Rod were all leaning back on their arms like I was. We were all mirroring each other. I handed my phone to Rich Gordon and asked him to take a picture. At the same time, Rick moved out of position to take a phone call. Close enough for me.
You can be assured, the week was fun, fun, fun.
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Next Adventure
All too soon the trip is over. I am home again. Got home yesterday to a precious greeting from Asher who has yet to learn not to jump up on people. The return to reality is both comforting and overwhelming. I would like to process the lingering afterglow of the previous week at the same time as catching up on tasks around the property that I usually tend to on a daily basis. There is a week’s worth of manure compost to turn over.
After arriving home, I quickly unpacked my gear and set things out to dry before making my way with Cyndie and Asher down to see the horses.
Then I received a ping on my phone that lightning was in the area. The recent experience in Sauk Centre of walking to dinner under sunny skies and leaving my tent fly open was a lesson learned. Downpours can appear with surprising speed. I cut short the horse visit and rushed up to get my gear inside just as the first drops started falling.
The week of biking and camping on The Tour of Minnesota for 2023 was good for me. I didn’t even put my battery on the bike but packed it in my bags just in case. I credit the accumulating years of planking and stretching exercise routines for having me stronger than at any previous time in my life. Combined with my change from a classic touring bike to the Trek Domane made for the best riding I’ve ever done.
I stood up to pedal up an incline and Rich Gordon said, “Keep standing so I can take a picture!”
As I huffed and puffed the extra effort to climb while off the saddle, Rich fumbled to get his phone from the back pocket of his jersey. Then he needed to check traffic behind us before pulling beside me.
“Keep standing!”
He had to get the camera app open. Needed to get the orientation right. This wasn’t going to be his selfie.
“Keep standing!”
Pretty soon we were both laughing over his getting me to stand much longer than I would have otherwise done. At least he gave me the gift of a great shot.
The air quality was annoyingly bad enough that I needed to hit the Albuterol for relief on multiple days.
I hope to resurrect a few more stories from the trip in the days ahead and share plenty of fun photos after I find time to process them.
As always, the interactions and hijinks of the wonderful people who participate in such adventures are a highlight that can overshadow the natural wonders we bike past. The weather was both good and not so good. We coped just fine.
My tent was one of the last to come down yesterday morning.
I was eager to get home but I already miss the thrill of being out on the road early every morning pedaling long miles with precious friends under the mixture of trees and wide open skies.
This year’s Tour was a good one.
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