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Saturday, 23 Jul 2022
106.80 miles
2979 ft of climbing

I got up at dawn, which was pretty early in Central Time. This was the first night on my new sleeping pad, and I woke up several times during the night wondering if it was holding air or if I was on the ground. It held up fine, and I felt no lingering effects from yesterday's ride.

In the early morning quiet I made myself coffee and oatmeal on my little woodgas stove. I checked the weather forecast, hmm, storm coming in the late afternoon. Time to break camp and get going toward Marientte County. Today would be a route I hadn't taken before, one without a lot of alternate options if the big highways turned out to be busy.

I made my way down to Highway 70 on a forest road lined with glacial erratic boulders hidden in the shadows of the trees. It was cool and quiet so far, and I opted to stay on 70 and then 139 instead of taking the gravel bypass I had planned. What was I thinking with that gravel route anyway?

Oh, hmm. Maybe my routing software knew better than me. I followed the detour route to Tipler, and stopped at a pavilion there to look at a map and see how many miles this detour was likely to add.

Ah ha! I had found a detour off of this detour, and it seemed like it was all paved. Well, it wasn't but it worked out in the end and was much, much shorter than the official detour.

I rejoined Highway 139 just south of the "out" bridge, and had it all to myself as I made my way to the town of Long Lake. Between Grandma Sally's bakery, the general store, and the water spigot at the fire hall, I left fully restocked and ready to enjoy the 20-odd miles to the next town.

It was warming up again but I was trying to take it easy and avoid another round of heat exhaustion. I stopped at a park in Laona for a short break.

(Definitely making plans to come back to Laona for the community soup, sounds delicious.) I topped off my water bottles at a convenience store, and then, well, I couldn't just ride on by the ice cream shop.

Back on rural roads, I was watching the forest gradually turn to fields, and on one of the rolling hills I found my first farm selling fresh produce. Bodwéwadmi Ktëgan farm has a large hydroponic operation, and I was eager to stock up on veggies. But their store was nearly empty so I left with...one cucumber. I figured that would be enough to balance the ice cream and pork rinds I'd had earlier.

My cucumber and I emerged from the farm roads in Wabeno (or was it Soperton? Are these the Twin Cities of Wisconsin?). Downtown Wabeno is a the most Wisconsin place, with a Paul Bunyan, a steam locomotive, a museum, and a good place to get a chicken sandwich to go.

And about 20 bars, more or less. None for me today, back up the hill to beat the storm.

As I rolled down County Road C, I felt a few raindrops and stopped to zip up my bags and pack away anything I didn't want to get wet.

I left County Road C for Parkway Road, noting a couple of other campgrounds along the way in case I needed to turn back from my first choice, Veterans Memorial Park just south of the High Falls Reservoir.

About 13 miles later I rolled into the park, quickly scanned the check-in instructions, and chose a spot in the walk-in tent camping area. Just in time, too. It was sprinkling as I set up my tent, but I managed to keep everything relatively dry.

As I was walking back from the self-registration station, another camper flagged me down. "Hey, we were walking over by your site earlier today...check out this snake we saw! I don't know what it was, but it was big and hooded!" He showed me photos on his phone, and I concluded that I should probably step carefully and keep my tent zipped up. Our conversation was cut short by the rain and wind, which were picking up fast, and I retreated to my tent to stay dry.

After texting Nancy to warn of my probable fate (snake bite and/or blown away in a thunderstorm), I decided that I would probably not head back up the road to find some food for supper, and I broke into my reserves. A packet of tuna, one delicious cucumber, a muffin and a few other things, and I was full enough.

One last check of the tent door zippers, and off to bed.

Friday, 22 Jul 2022
112.36 miles
4042 ft of climbing

It was finally time for another ride from home to Madison, Wisconsin! Plans for a bike tour earlier this year had fallen through, so I was getting itchy to get out the door and onto my bike for a few days.

The route was nothing too different, but would hopefully hit the high points of past trips and avoid long stretches between towns and the busier highways I'd encountered on previous rides. This was a more central route, staying east of Wausau but not going as far as Marinette.

Anyway, 7:00, time to go! Or maybe I'll just wait until this angry storm cell passes. If I can ride out the worst rain of the day sitting at the kitchen table, I will.

Anyway, 7:30, time to go! The sky was clearing and everything was lush. I paused at the hop sign for good luck.

Steam rose off the asphalt as it warmed, and I settled in for a quiet spin to Tapiola. One of the old men chatting outside Karvakko's store called out to me, "Hey, slow down, there's a speed limit here!" "Ha!" I waved.

Should I stop at Kurt's Korner to get a snack? I'm always debating whether to stop for a bit or keep rolling, especially today, not having a locked-in place to stay the night. The correct answer was yes, and I had half a giant cookie bar while sitting at the picnic table in front.

Then off to M-38 for several miles until I got to the forest highway. Sometimes this stretch is stressful and unpleasant, but with no traffic and just a light breeze, it was less of a slog than usual. I turned to the south on FH-16, entering the Ottawa National Forest. Two swans and their babies welcomed me!

I rolled on to Kenton where I stopped for lunch (a huge sandwich I'd made that morning), and filled my water bottles from the well. Things were feeling pretty good so far, though the temperature was into the 80s already and I knew I had a long, open stretch of road ahead of me.

Back on the road and, whew, yeah, sunny and warm. I paused at the Golden Lake campground about 88 miles in and found it completely empty. Maybe a good stop for a future trip.

At some point I entered Wisconsin and the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest; there wasn't really a sign or anything. But there was a bench with instructions written on it, so I obeyed.

But not for too long. I still had the voice in the back of my head telling me I'd find a full campground and need to head to the next one down the line. So back on the bike and toward Phelps, Wisconsin.

A few miles later on Highway 17 my bike started to feel weird. I looked down, yep, rear tire looks low. Bounce-bounce in the saddle, okay, it's losing air pretty fast. I found a precious bit of shade just off on a gravel side road and stopped.

Well, no big deal. I took my bags off the bike, arranged them in a neat pile, and flipped the bike upside down so it stood on its handlebars and saddle. As I went back toward my bags to get my tools and a spare tube, I spotted a tiny skunk waddling through the grass with apparently the same goal. I let out a little yelp, stepped back, and pleaded with him to not spray me and all of my belongings. He seemed as startled as me but complied, and scurried back into the ditch without emitting even a whiff.

I laughed and then texted Nancy to let her know about my brush with danger. Thinking that the skunk might be on his way back with Mom to investigate, I quickly swapped in a new tube, put everything back on my bike, and got ready to leave the shade behind. It was really getting hot now and I was starting to run out of water.

Not knowing what I would find at the campground, I opted to head into the town of Phelps to fill up on water and get some food even though that added a few miles to my ride. As I stood outside the convenience store I started to feel nauseated and tired, and knew I definitely hadn't been taking on enough water. I drank as much cold water as I dared, but again felt the need to push on to the campground to find a spot.

About eight hilly, hot miles later I rolled into Spectacle Lake Campground, a nice little national forest park, and was relieved to find that it was only about half full. I plopped down at the first tent site I found, now feeling more effects of heat exhaustion. I drank more water, poured some over my head, and after a while felt well enough to set up my tent and register my site.

Time for a swim to cool off some more and rinse the grit off me and my bike clothes. The campground was buzzing with parties and generators at this point, but the beach was completely empty! This little lake was clear with a sandy bottom, and I felt as good as new when I got out of the water.

One last thing to take care of: charging my USB battery so my phone, GPS, and lights would work the next day. None of the normal campsites had electricity, but I noticed that the campground hosts had some lights strung up on their site. I pretended to be extroverted and struck up a conversation with the (very good-natured) hosts. They were kind enough to let me plug in my battery to charge overnight. Thanks! Off to bed, 112 miles behind me and feeling back to normal again.

Monday, 13 Sep 2021
94.6 miles
1519 ft of climbing

Thump thump thump. Rustle. I awoke to something moving around near my head. Fortunately it was outside the tent, but I could feel something roughly toad-sized as I brushed my hand along the base of the tent wall. It disappeared.

The sky was still dark but rather than try to snooze with visions of toads crawling up my tent, I crept out of bed and broke camp. I can never sleep in on the last day of a tour anyway, since I'm usually meeting Nancy and meant to be somewhere on time anyway.

So I hit the road, noting the ominous clouds above. Sprinkles, and then steady rain as I approached Fond du Lac on the Peebles Trail. I waited in a park pavilion for a half hour while watching the storm pass on weather radar.

It's clearing, time to go! Right after some marginal gas station coffee and Oreos to warm me up. I made my way to the Wild Goose State Trail, another crushed limestone rail trail.

This was a nice quiet spin to Beaver Dam, past farm fields and marshes. Along the way I saw herons, cranes, a bald eagle, and one brave chipmunk who popped his head out of his mid-trail hole at almost exactly the wrong time.

The rail trail became county "letter roads" again, peaceful if not scenic or sweet smelling. In Beaver Dam I swore to find a healthy lunch but seeing a Casey's convenience store right on my route, I caved and instead enjoyed a slice of pizza.

Back on the county roads, I watched farmers harvest and transport corn silage, a process I wasn't really familiar with. I'm not sure if this is the default practice now instead of harvesting feed corn, but it was universal that day and interesting to watch. It also meant some of the roads were strewn with muddy silage, which adheres surprisingly well to bike frames.

A few tiny towns and one bridge outage later, and I found myself cruising the empty streets of Sun Prairie, a suburb of Madison. It was slightly spooky with all the kids in school and everyone else at their jobs in Madison. I made my way to bike paths that would lead me to the big city.

Madison is one of those cities that (generally) does bike infrastructure right. Instead of token recreational bike paths, a bike lane is a part of every road that's going somewhere useful. It was a relief to just be able to hop on US-151 and use the bike lanes to work my way down to Olbrich Park, where I met up with Nancy. We were happy to see each other, and I was even almost on time.

Sunday, 12 Sep 2021
88.8 miles
518 ft of climbing

Daylight revealed that I'd managed to pitch my tent in a reasonable spot, and that my covertly charging battery pack was in still in its hiding place and now fully charged. The campground was bare of twigs and sticks (and there was a heavy dew) so I opted to skip making breakfast over my wood stove. Instead I stopped at a gas station on the way out of Oconto for an athlete's meal of coffee and an egg and cheese burrito.

My intention was to make it to Green Bay early enough to have a shop swap my bottom bracket (or at least I could buy/borrow some tools), so I didn't waste too much time stopping for breaks. On the way to Little Suamico I met two ladies riding in the other direction, on a tour around Lake Michigan. We stood in the middle of the road and chatted for a while, watching the sandhill cranes, and then wished each other well.

Rolling into Green Bay, I hit some token bike infrastructure, but bailed when the intersections got goofy (the typical "okay now pretend to be a pedestrian and use the crosswalk" thing). After navigating some road construction, I made it downtown to the Broken Spoke Bike Studio, which Google said would be open on a Sunday. Google lied. Fortunately, just across the river was Pete's Garage, and the (stereotypically grouchy but very capable) mechanic was able to squeeze me in and swapped in the new bottom bracket in a matter of minutes. It felt very good to have that sorted out, like I could finally relax. Now it was time for lunch.

I didn't want to stray too far from my course, which meant stopping at one of the grottiest grocery stores I'd seen. As I was locking up, I looked across the parking lot and saw a bagel shop we'd stopped at in the past, Lox Stock'n Bagel. A bagel sandwich hit the spot, and I headed out to again attempt to use the confusingly disconnected bike infrastructure.

Some light trespassing later and I was on my way to the Fox River State Trail, a rail trail that starts out as asphalt but switches to packed crushed limestone. It was in good shape, owing to it being restricted to non-motorized traffic in the summer. Cutting through the agricultural landscape is something I enjoy, and it was nice to rejoin the rolling county roads at the end of the trail.

I caught a bit of light rain as I rolled in to Hilbert, home of the world's saddest gas station. In Wisconsin, a convenience store boasting "fresh produce" means that it will have an entire cooler section of cheese and meat sticks, but nothing resembling fruit or vegetable. Not the greatest thing for feeling well on a bike. At any rate, I stocked up with what I could for the evening and headed toward the campground.

On the way I was lucky enough to pass a nice little farm stand with actual fresh produce, as well as baked goods. I limited myself to one loaf of pumpkin bread, which was delicious.

A bit more rain on the final stretch had me worried of a swamped campsite, but I arrived at Calumet Harbor to find a pretty (and dry) campground with giant oaks and a few WPA-era buildings. I landed in my spot, chatted with some other campers, cooked dinner over my woodstove, and settled in for the night.

Saturday, 11 Sep 2021
140.0 miles
2451 ft of climbing

I slept in a bit later than I'd planned, having not being invited to the campground rager, which went well past midnight. My air mattress had also given up a bit, and I didn't have the most comfortable sleep. But I did manage to get up, break camp, and make coffee and oatmeal on my wood stove.

I hit the back roads to bypass Crystal Falls, but was just not feeling too great. Occasional eye flashes and a persistent headache stuck with me for quite a while.

With Bikes & More closed, the only other bike shop I'd found anywhere near my route was Marinette Cycle Center, and I called them from the road as soon as they opened. Dave was filling in for the regular staff, and was extremely helpful in finding the exact part I needed in their stock. He even offered to reopen the shop after I got into town so I could swap it!

At about 20 miles in I rolled through Florence and decided to stock up for lunch, since I wouldn't be passing through many other towns. The baker at Chainey House Bakery made me a giant ham and cheese sandwich on fresh bread, and it and I headed south on the usual "Iron Mountain Bypass" route.

I was still flagging a bit, and the headache was still with me, so I stopped to rest and eat my sandwich just north of US-8. By then I'd decided to let Dave off the hook for an after-hours repair, since the bottom bracket wasn't sounding much worse. I figured that if I at least had the new bottom bracket with me, I could swap it using improvised tools from a hardware store if it got worse. I called and paid for the part, and arranged to pick it up from the shop mailbox when I got to town.

It's always a challenge finding good spots to fill up with water, and I found another old hand pump in a park in Dunbar. Perfect! I was off the hook for making it to Marinette at any specific time, so I eased up a bit, hoping my headache would subside. I was all alone on these pleasant county roads, and was happy to find a store with ice cream sandwiches in Athelstane.

A quick pause in Crivitz, another stop because I'd forgotten to lube my chain, and then back to the grind. Soon I diverted from my planned route to head southeast to Marinette instead of south to Oconto. Hmm, wasn't there some gravel around here? Yep, here it is, not bad at all!

Despite Google Maps typical needlessly circuitous routing, I made it to the bike shop and retrieved my bottom bracket from the shop mailbox. By this point I was 112 miles in and starting to feel it. My headache had finally gone, but there wasn't much light left in the day. I'd ridden by a city park with campsites on the way in, so I made my way back there.

There were a couple of RVs parked, but the campground was mostly empty. This looked perfect, and I could end my day a bit early. I called the reservation number and was told that the tent section was closed and that if I tried tent camping there I would be kicked out. Well then. I'd looked for other campgrounds in this area when I did my initial route planning and knew there weren't many options, so I decided to top off my water, dig out my reflective gear and lights, and head on to Oconto.

Leaving Marinette was tricky due to construction. As I was waiting an an intersection, a pickup driver pulled alongside,  rolled down his passenger window and yelled out to me. "I'M AN AVID CYCLIST BUT ONLY RIDE AROUND TOWN. HOW FAR YOU GOING TODAY?" Avid cyclist, sure, so you understand how appealing being yelled at from a pickup is.

Somehow I escaped Marinette and made it through Peshtigo. The sun set, and I found myself on marshy low roads right on the shores of Lake Michigan. As the air cooled, a figurative plague of frogs emerged. They were in the road, hopping across the road, jumping into my wheels. I tried to dodge as many as I could. It was the most eerie experience, rolling through the swampy darkness, alone, with thousands of suicidal frogs.

Finally I emerged in Oconto, feeling wiped out. I made my way to the Kwik Trip and bought supper (a family-size microwaved chicken mac and cheese) and a gallon of water. The campground, Holtwood Park, is on a peninsula cut out by Oconto River, which meant a bit of a maze to get to my campsite. The campground was dark and seemed to aggressively deny me any power outlets (all the powered sites had only 30A and 50A outlets), but I eventually found a place to charge my battery bank in a nearby pavilion.

All I really wanted was a shower though. In the dark I dug out my shower stuff and a change of clothes, and then made my way to the showers, which were in a special trailer raised off the ground a few feet. Access was by an unlit wheelchair ramp with an evil handrail that took a chunk out of my leg and sent me crashing to the ground, bleeding. To add insult, after I made it inside I found the only shower I've ever seen that required quarters. QUARTERS.

That seemed somehow fitting given my experience with the Marinette park, but after I sulked for a while I rummaged around for change (there was no change machine in the campground) and had the best 8-minute ($0.50) shower of my life.

Off to bed, better luck tomorrow?

Friday, 10 Sep 2021
113.7 miles
4127 ft of climbing

I got out the door slightly later than I'd hoped but right on time compared to previous trips. The skies were just starting to brighten at 7:15 AM and I headed toward South Range, going through my mental packing list over and over.

It was chilly and a little damp, and I wore a long-sleeve wool jersey over a short sleeve synthetic top (my lucky Two Hearted Ale jersey), and a reflective high-viz vest. I made the obligatory stop at the Hop Sign on Onkalo's Corner and took a photo for good luck.

An uneventful cruise to Tapiola with a brief stop at the ball field for a nature break and to top off my water bottle. Karvakko's and Kurt's stores were both open already but I had barely started so didn't need a resupply.

I stopped at the church at the south end of Pelkie to dial in my rear deraileur--something didn't seem quite right. After a snack I hit the road again, and stopped again briefly at the veterans memorial in Laird. Somewhere along the way I ditched my long sleeve jersey as it was warming up with mostly clear skies.

After the usual slog west on M-38 I finally hit Forest Highway 16 and could enjoy the quiet stretch to Kenton in the Ottawa National Forest. At the Kenton wayside I was pleased to see the water pump still working, and stopped to rest and eat my sandwich. At this point I'd decided that the clunking I was hearing was something to do with the bottom bracket, and looked up the nearest bike shop, Bikes & More in Iron River.

Lunch done, I was back to FH-16 on the other side of Kenton for a good grind to US-2. US-2 has wide shoulders where FH-16 meets it, but quite a bit of traffic which makes it a noisy and uncomfortable ride. The climbs and descents are long and uninspiring. Coming in to Iron River, the wide shoulders disappear and are replaced by hard curbs, and it was around here (in a 45 MPH zone) that a driver overtook me and then cut hard in front of me, I assume to "teach me a lesson." Further down the road I got the classic "Get the fuck off the road!" from a passenger in another car.

I left US-2 and navigated to Bikes & More, but was too late. Way too late, as the place was shuttered with a real estate sign out front. I paused for a break, and decided to continue on my planned route.

Bikes & More turned out to be on the way to the grocery store I'd planned to stop at, Angeli Foods. I stocked up with supper supplies, snacks for tomorrow morning, beer, and a gallon of water for drinking and cooking. Then, joy, back to US-2 for the final stretch of the day.

Bewabic State Park looked like any other Michigan state park, and I rolled up to the reservation window. After a brief wait I got checked in and got my site permit ("Just put this window tag...wherever?"). The check-in was aways from the campsites, so it was one final good climb up the hill and to my spot for the night. The site was hard packed dirt, but I found a reasonable spot to pitch my tent, and got settled in.

My site was one of the very few without power, but I was able to "borrow" some briefly from a couple of empty sites until their occupants arrived. The showers and restrooms were nice, and I enjoyed some hiking trails down to Fortune Lakes where I ate the last of my supper while watching a pair of loons.

Just behind my site was a large wooded area, so I was able to scrounge up enough wood to have a small fire, just enough to warm me up before bed.

I've started running again, three runs in the past week or so. During one of those runs I thought, squinting pensively, didn't I have a blog related to running?

Over the past year, like many people I had a lot of time to reconsider what I value and what makes a fulfilling life. In the process of coming up with and sticking to new routines, those values have changed.

Every day the best dog in the world (Zoe) and I go for a walk at lunch. When there was more snow on the ground, this would be a snowshoe trip around a loop in the woods. And quite often a longer loop at the end of the day.

I got a lot of joy out of carefully following my tracks and making nice, even snowshoe trails. Zoe learned how to hop past me on the trail without falling into the deep unpacked snow. The solitude of being in the woods on trails only we had walked on wasn't lonely, it was satisfying.

Now that everyone's talking about a return to normal life, I've considered what I really want to change now. I think I'm happy "never" leaving our nice spot in the woods.

Testing, testing...is this thing still on?

One of my favorite challenges (or more accurately, things I do for the approval of Internet strangers) from last year was The Errandonnee, 12 days in which participants complete 12 errands by bike or by foot. This year it runs March 20-31, right around the corner!

Anyway, I looked back at my log from last year's challenge and thought it might be interesting to copy it down here. So this is that!

1. Work to Bakery to Home

Category: You Carried WHAT On Your Bike?

Observation: Carrying something as delicate as a cake works best when you can keep an eye on it. I put a front basket on for this trip, and the cake survived nicely.

2. Home to the End of the Road and Back

Category: Personal Business

Observation: It feels great to roll along at a casual pace. I usually ride faster than I need to, and probably miss a lot.

3. Home to Gas Station and Back

Category: You Carried WHAT On Your Bike?

Observation: Pulling a trailer with a fuel can on it handled just fine. It didn't seem to make a difference whether the can was full or empty. Climbing is slow and descending is fast with a trailer either way.

4. Work to Documentary Screening to Home

Category: Arts and Entertainment

Observation: In dense fog you can still hear cars even if you can't see them. Another eerie but awesome bit of weather to bike in.

5. Home to Dentist

Category: Personal Care

Observation: Biking to unexpected destinations is a good conversation starter.

6 & 7. Work to Credit Union to Feed Store to Home

Categories: Personal Business, Store

Observations: (6) I think a bike is faster through a drive-up ATM than a car, even with fumbling around with gloves and my wallet being hidden somewhere in my frame bag. (7) We were out of wet cat food, not the dry food I bought. Oh well.

8 & 9. Work to Post Office to Food Co-op to Work

Categories: Non-Store Errand, Store

Observations: (8) Lunch drivers are in a hurry. (9) I buy more when I've biked to pick up lunch.

10. Work to Shelter to Grocery to Work

Category: Non-Store Errand

Observation: There were at least two other bags of donated goodies waiting outside the humane society today (they were closed this morning). It's great to see so much support for the shelter.

11. Home to Hancock to Run

Category: Wild Card

Observation: Don't count on the forecast.

12. Work to Grocery to Home

Category: Work or Volunteering

Observation: I'm really looking forward to seeing more people out riding and running and walking. Definitely getting to be the season.

See you out there!