Posts Tagged ‘images’
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…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Pedaling Upwind
.
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?
.
.
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.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
To Pipestone
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.”
.
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.
.
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.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Back Live
I am back with live posts today —not pre-written and scheduled— having successfully survived and returned from the most challenging of bike camping adventures that I have ever done. We made plenty of jokes about planning a bicycle trip in a region that has been selected as a good place to have a wind turbine farm.
The challenge of riding daily into unrelenting gale-force headwinds was compounded by the addition of a surprising wave-after-wave of severe thunderstorms, drenching this region that was previously enduring a drought. The unprecedented amount of rain in that short time seriously flooded farm fields, creating flash floods that over-ran banks, flooded homes and washed out roads.
For some reason that I don’t understand, I had the unfortunate luck of adding to the misery by getting sick with a sore throat, stuffy head, and congested lungs. I don’t know if it was just a bad coincidence of timing or whether the weather conditions and close proximity to a large group of people happened to be the trigger.
Last week was one tough vacation. At the same time, it was as fun as ever. I hope to tell you more about it in the days ahead. Right now I am faced with the burden of deciding if I can go back to bed to repair my ailing health or get after the mowing and manure management chores that are in dire need of attention.
The same storms that dominated our bike week moved across the state and soaked Wintervale Ranch. We’ve got additional trees tipped over that I will need to cut up and move, just to get to the manure pile.
The bed is looking more and more enticing as my current preferred option.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Horse Power
I was able to use our 4-horse power grass mower yesterday on the strip just outside the small paddock. We had put up a fence around a small section of our driveway to give the horses somewhere to stand that wasn’t always muddy, but it didn’t encompass that grass strip. I decided to make a small adjustment in our temporary fence so we could give them just enough space to reach a large majority of that front section.
Without any hesitation or fussing about, the four horses spaced themselves nicely outside the paddock fence and got down to business cutting the grass. They do great work. They mow a little bit like Cyndie does, haphazardly picking spots to work on, but there are no clippings left behind, and given enough time, they eventually get it all trimmed to the same length.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Flowers Show
.
Not far behind all the fast growing grass we have around here, flowers are beginning to display their best selves for our delight. Like so many things this spring, it seems like they have just appeared out of nowhere. If we neglect to walk around the house and property for one day, we miss the grand entrance of some plant or another.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Unfortunately for me, the weeds grow just as fast and get just as tall as some of the desirable flowering plants. I’m never sure which is which, and therefore am unwilling to be very zealous about weeding our landscape.
.
.
.
.
The emergence of the flowers is matched closely with the appearance of pestering flying insects, several of which have a taste for blood. While stepping in close to capture the little blossoms on this flowering tree, I fell under attack from a swarm of tiny flying things, a few of which seemed to be driven toward burying themselves in my hair. That’s a joy.
.
Speaking of that kind of joy, while working to clear trees from the drainage ditch along our southern border last weekend, I was sure that a mosquito almost large enough to pass for a humming-bird was responsible for the giant welt that swelled and itched when I came in for the night. I showed the welt to Cyndie right away to see what she thought of it. Inconclusive response. It had quickly gotten bigger than any mosquito bite I had ever experienced before.
In a few days, it became painfully obvious that it was not a bug bite. I’m guessing I unknowingly handled some poison ivy down in that ditch, then directly transferred it to my neck when trying to wipe off dripping sweat. The swelling and wide area of reaction is so distinctly different than the usual itchy spots that appear on my skin, I believe it suggests the level of exposure was an order of magnitude higher than my usual experience.
I remembered that my doctor advised I try an antihistamine to control the reaction, before resorting to a steroid prescription. That seems to be working for me, to suppress the swelling and itching, but it doesn’t necessarily shorten the average two weeks duration like steroids will. That’s okay. I dislike the prescription stuff enough to be willing to endure the duration of the process using antihistamines alone for now.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Latest News
Lest anyone be oblivious to the special significance of this day, let me make it known that June 4th happens to be Cyndie’s birthday! I can’t think of anything more appropriate to give her this year than a new riding saddle. It’s a complicated purchase, so I already told her my idea and she will begin the process of getting the horses measured to see if it will be possible to get one saddle that will fit more than one of our horses.
She has received a few tips on recommended retailers, so we will be visiting a couple of them as soon as we have the measurements. Looks like I better stop dragging my feet about getting the trails in order around here. There are still downed trees in two places obstructing our main perimeter trail through the woods. Just as important, I need to increase the height of clearance throughout all the trails, to make it safe for someone traveling on horseback.
Cyndie reported that the vet said we can start increasing the time we allow the horses to graze freely by a half-hour every other day, up to a max of about 5 hours per day. That’s great news. The horses received good reviews and were given whatever shots were due this time of year. In about a week they will have their feet checked and hooves trimmed by our farrier, neighbor George Walker.
Speaking of George, I stopped by to check on him on my way home from work yesterday, and discovered he was out cutting hay using three of his horses to pull a rig with a sickle bar mower. What a beautiful sight. I pulled over and he gave the horses a break while we chatted about things like the weather, his hay-field, if it was going to rain, how much hay he should cut in case it was going to rain, and whether or not it might rain.
Obviously, the biggest trick to cutting and baling hay is finding enough consecutive dry days to pull it off during the months of May and June when things are growing the fastest.
After that visit, I headed home to do some cutting of my own: I mowed our lawn. The grass was so thick, it looked like I had created windrows for baling!
If you can decipher it in this picture, the pine trees that suffered so much from dryness last fall, followed by the extremely harsh winter, are sprouting new growth, except for one. The one on the left that looks the most rust-colored is the one that tipped over last year. It didn’t survive. Next time I have the chainsaw out down there, he will get cut down.
We are looking forward to seeing the new growth pop open soon, to bring the trees a healthier glow. As you can tell by the image, everything else around them is bursting with green life.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Fast Grass
Monday, we enjoyed a little break from the rain, after a thorough soaking over the weekend. I gave the horses a half-hour on the grass in the middle of the day and found myself mesmerized by the sight of them. After opening the gate, I just stood there leaning on it, watching them graze.
They were 4 very happy horses.
Today, we have a vet visit scheduled, and hope to get her recommendation for how much we can be increasing their grazing time each day during the fast-growing time of year.
It is a shame to have so much grass that needs to get cut and not be able to give the horses uncontrolled access to it.
I mowed a path through the section on the north side of our driveway that reveals how tall the grass has gotten in a relatively short span of time.
No wonder they get so antsy waiting in their paddocks for a chance to graze. They know the grass is growing much faster than they are allowed to eat it.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.




















