The Rolling Hills of Wisconsin*

I’ll grant you this, Wisconsin’s back roads are beautiful, and if you don’t mind a little climbing, perfect for cycling. By getting off the busier roads I added about seven miles to my ride today, but added nearly 2,000 feet of climbing. Many of the pitches were double digits, including one in the first mile that hit 16%.

It was worth it. The climbing, stiff headwinds in the afternoon, and the tiredness from my cold contributed to a long day in the saddle. But I was rewarded by some exceptional views for the whole ride. Here are just a few highlights.

Despite the long day, we found time to squeeze in a visit to the Wollersheim Winery. In the wine tasting presentation I give covering the history of winemaking in the context of world history, I touch on Agoston Haraszthy, who is sometimes called the father of California viticulture. Before Haraszthy made his mark on California winemaking, he tried making wine in Wisconsin. After a few years he left for a better grape growing climate, but the vineyard he started in Wisconsin was recently rejuvenated after he left, and is now a flourishing winery and distillery. I had to make at least a brief stop.

There were so many barns along our route today, that I would never have reached Madison if I stopped to photograph even a small fraction of them. Here are some I did stop for, and one that Toni stopped for that I passed by.

Wellington, Wisconsin

Prairie du Sac, Wisconsin

*A number of the titles for my blog posts are taken from songs that go through my head as I ride. With apologies to the State of Wisconsin, today’s title is a takeoff from the John Roberts and Tony Barrand song “The Rolling Mills of New Jersey.”

The technical stuff:

Tomah, Wisconsin to Madison, Wisconsin

100.3 miles

6,696 feet of climbing

Average speed 13.3 miles per hour

Weather: Mostly overcast with some sun; . Temperature around 60 to start, up to around 80, then down to around 65 in late afternoon. Winds light and variable in the morning and 15-20 MPH from the east in the afternoon; mostly headwinds.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Back in the Saddle Again

It was good to be back in the saddle again, though the cold I dodged earlier in the trip came back, so I was feeling a little pokey today.

I also got held up in downtown Winona by a train passing through.

But I was soon rolling again and crossed into Wisconsin.

My sister tells me that my mother always said Wisconsin was prettier than Minnesota. I chatted with a flag woman today at a road construction site while I was waiting for the traffic to resume, and she was singing the praises of Minnesota along the river just north of Winona. I’m not going to get into the debate, but I will say that I passed through some beautiful wooded and rolling country today.

The clouds were also intriguing.

Later in the day, the clouds turned into thunderstorms and I was held up by over an hour as we let them pass. It is a luxury to have an RV close by at all times, and though the pause made for a late arrival, it was a nice rest.

As you can see from the pictures above, some of the roads I travelled today were a cyclist’s dream, narrow and quiet. Some, particularly at the end, were not: busy with inadequate shoulders. When I looked at my route for tomorrow, I realized I had far too many of the latter, so spent a good hour revising tomorrow’s route.

Having lost time today to trains, rain and route planning, I will leave this post short. There were many good barns along the way today, so here they are.

Trempealeau, Wisconsin

Trempealeau, WIsconsin

Onalaska, Wisconsin

Tomah, Wisconsin

The technical stuff:

Winona, Minnesota to Tomah, Wisconsin

81.91 miles

2,687 feet of climbing

Average speed 14.6 miles per hour

Weather: High overcast with some sun; thundershower mid-afternoon. Temperature around 60 to start and mid-70s later in the day. Winds 15-20 MPH in the morning and up to 25 MPH in the afternoon; mostly tailwinds except headwinds last 10 miles.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Sister City

I have driven into Winona, Minnesota dozens of times over the last several years and never noticed the sign that declares Winona is a Sister City. But riding in yesterday, with my sister, Ann, who joined me for the last six miles of the ride, I noticed it, proving once again that you see more traveling at the speed of a bicycle.

The reference to Sister City means something different to me than is intended by the sign. Winona is MY sister’s city, and it is wonderful to be welcomed into her home again after over a month on the road. We will be here and in the Twin Cities for the next week, visiting family and friends, and planning out the last several weeks of the trip. We hit the road again next Friday, June 14.

The ride from Owatonna to Winona went through Rochester, Minnesota, with its extensive bicycle paths. I joined the path well north of the city, and except for a few blocks connecting between paths, I was off the roads until I was well south of the city. The paths went through the middle of town and I got to see the heart of the city.

The high point of the ride, though, was a root beer float in Lake Charles, Minnesota. The ride was just hot enough that a cold root beer float about 1:30 hit the spot.

Meanwhile, the farms became more varied as we moved east. By the time we reached Rochester there was a mixture of hog farms, dairy farms, crops and even a few hobby farms.

As we rode into the Mississippi River Valley in Winona, the farms were nestled in among the bluffs.

And of course, there were barns. As I take several days off the bike, I’ll leave you with this collection of barns from southeastern Minnesota.

Claremont, Minnesota

Claremont, Minnesota

Wasioja, Minnesota

Wasioja, Minnesota

Mantorville, Minnesota

Kalmar, Minnesota

Eyota, Minnesota

Wilson, Minnesota

The technical stuff:

Owatonna to Winona, Minnesota

93.5 miles

3,763 feet of climbing

Average speed 14.3 miles per hour

Weather: Bright sunshine all day; 60 in the morning to around 80 in the afternoon; winds light and variable.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Friends and Relations

We have met many friendly people on our trip. But, with just one exception in Boise and one in Boulder, we have not seen a familiar face since we left Toni’s brother Bruce and his wife Ellen behind in Oregon over a month ago.

That changed today when we arrived in Waseca, and we got together with Roger’s cousins Steve and Al (Bruce) Judd and Al’s wife Pat. And in the small world department, Ellen also has a cousin (Linda) in Waseca, and we visited with Linda and her partner Jane as well. In the even smaller world department, Al and Pat are friends with Linda and Jane. We had lovely visits with each of them, catching up on family matters and discussing Linda and Jane’s guided wine tours in Paso Robles (which Al and Pat have taken).

Al, Pat, Steve, Toni and me at the Judds.

Linda, me, Toni and Jane

Before we reached Waseca, we left the Mankato area, managing to climb out of three river valleys: first the Minnesota River valley, then the Blue Earth River valley, and finally the Le Sueur River valley. In the west, we travelled along rivers, and that usually meant a gentle upward ride. This morning was a bit of a roller coaster as we went across rather than along the river valleys.

Blue Earth River south of Mankato

The best part about the morning’s ride was the bicycle path I was able to follow for almost ten miles. I stayed on the path across the river valleys and up onto the prairie. From the nearby highway, Toni got pictures of me riding up one of the hills and then through the prairie.

Trust me, there is a path there — I was not riding through the grass!

Meanwhile, my view of the wildflowers and the cultivated fields was closer and more focused.

And here are today’s top barns.

McPherson, Minnesota

St. Mary. Minnesota

The technical stuff:

Mankato to Owatonna, Minnesota, with a lengthy stop in Waseca

60.9 miles

1,781 feet of climbing

Average speed 14.2 miles per hour

Weather: Bright sunshine all day; 60 in the morning to around 80 in the afternoon; winds light and variable.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Dang, We Missed It

I’ll be honest with you, there’s not much of interest to report on in South Central Minnesota between Currie and Mankato. I can report that the crops appear to be largely in the ground and beginning to grow. I’m not sure how much of this is corn, but it looks like it will be knee high by the Fourth of July.

By the way, that is better than South Dakota. Many of the fields we saw in South Dakota were still very wet, and there was little evidence that they had been planted. The ducks were very happy; I suspect the farmers are not.

The terrain this morning was somewhat rolling, giving some contour to the ride through a beautiful morning.

About half way through the ride, we passed through the tiny town of Darfur, Minnesota (population 108; area about one quarter square mile). Apparently the big event of the year is the annual smelt dinner, the last Saturday in April.

Dang, we missed it.

We also missed the opportunity to pick up some (very) cheap real estate in town.

We did catch the lilacs, which were in bloom in Darfur and several other places along the route, as well as some wildflowers I encountered later today.

And we were happy to miss (or at least beat) the thunderstorms that passed through the area after I finished riding. The riding was beautiful in the morning, but by early afternoon the temperature was approaching 90 and the humidity was high (at least by midwest standards). I’m looking forward to drier cooler air tomorrow after this evening’s storms.

Today’s top two barns follow.

The technical stuff:

Currie to Mankato, Minnesota

92.7 miles

1,523 feet of climbing

Average speed 15.8 miles per hour

Weather: A few high clouds, building in the afternoon as storms approached. Temperature 60 at the start to upper 80s at the end with 60+% humidity. Cross winds of 10-15 MPH.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Exploring Roots in Currie Minnesota

When I was discussing my route a few months ago with my sister, Ann, she noted that it went very close to Currie, MN, where our maternal grandmother was born. I quickly adjusted the route so I could spend some time in Currie. Ann was going to drive over to join Toni and me for the day, and though her schedule didn’t allow that, she did some very helpful research about our grandmother’s roots in currie.

The decision to ride north to Currie was fortuitous given that the wind blew briskly from the south. My average speed for the day was only about 16 miles an hour, but that included a long time wandering around Currie at a few miles per hour. Much of the morning I was blasting along at 25 to 30 MPH!

My first stop was Slayton, MN, home of the Murray county recorder. Ann had contacted Karen in the recorder’s office, who dug up information about the residential lot and the farm acreage that my grandmother’s mother and father had owned in Currie. i had a chance to meet and thank Karen for all her help.

I then rode on to Currie, where we first found the lot in town. The house currently on the lot had clearly been added well after my grandmother and her family moved away in 1909. But for those in my family who want to see the space Grandma Oslund first called home, here it is.

Toni and I also spent some time in the local cemetery. Although my grandmother and her family had moved away before they died, we did find some information about my grandmother’s grandmother. As is often the case with quick genealogical research I came away with more questions than answers, but what I learned should stimulate some further looking!

I then rode north a few miles and found the farm acreage my great-grand-father had owned. We need to do more research here as well to figure out if he ever actually farmed it (he may have just owned it for speculative purposes), but it was nice to see how the property is being used today.

By then we were just a few miles from the campsite we are staying in this evening. Once again, we are on a beautiful lakeside site, enjoying the Minnesota outdoors.

There were plenty of barns on today’s short ride. The first is within the city limits of Worthington and the second was just as I entered Currie.

The technical stuff:

Worthington to Currie, Minnesota

50.6 miles

692 feet of climbing

Average speed 16.2 miles per hour

Weather: Partly cloudy in the morning, sunny in the afternoon. Temperature 60 at the start to 70 at the end. Brisk (20 to 25 MPH) tail winds. Can’t beat that!

You can see the entire route to date here.

Home Again

As most of you know, I grew up in Minnesota. My family moved back here when I was seven (from the Boston area, where I was born — more on that at the end of the trip), and I lived here through college. My sister and most of her kids live in Winona, Minnesota, and a brother and most of his family live in the Twin Cities. There are several places I have called home in my life, but Minnesota is special.

The day started with a beautiful, quiet ride on the bike path along the Big Sioux River in Sioux Falls.

Here is the obligatory picture of the falls of Sioux Falls.

I mentioned several days ago that the South Dakota countryside was beginning to remind me of Minnesota, and that impression grew as we approached and crossed the state line. We are now solidly in farm country.

Just after we crossed into Minnesota, I noticed hopper cars lined up along the road. These went on almost unbroken for most of ten miles.

I assume they are waiting there until the crops grow and ripen and are ready to be shipped. I wondered if there is some tax or regulatory reason why they are lined up in Minnesota rather than South Dakota.

One of the changes I welcome as we move east is the small towns that pop up across the countryside. Further west, towns were rarely more than a wide spot in the road with a bar or two and several churches. But we are now encountering small towns that each have their own character and appeal. As I travel across the plains, water towers and grain elevators in the distance announce that I am approaching a town.

Today I rode through Luverne, Minnesota, with its unique architecture and small town vibe. I wished it was time for lunch or an ice cream break so I could linger a little longer.

We also passed this reminder of what it was like to travel across the country in earlier days.

We are camped this evening right next to a lake, and this is my view as I write up these notes.

It’s good to be home again.

PS . Toni likes Minnesota too.

And here is the last of the South Dakota barns and the first of the Minnesota barns. You may notice that the Minnesota barn is made entirely of brick. A first on this trip.

The technical stuff:

Sioux Falls, South Dakota to Worthington, Minnesota

73.3 miles

1,870 feet of climbing

Average speed 15.8 miles per hour

Weather: Hazy sunshine in the morning (due to smoke from fires in Canada); bright sunshine in the afternoon; temperatures around 50 to start and low 70s in the afternoon. Tail winds or left rear quartering winds about 10 to 15 miles per hour all day.

You can see the entire route to date here.

The Things You Notice

At the speed of a bicycle, there are things you notice that go by too quickly — or can’t be noticed at all —when you are driving. As I rolled across eastern South Dakota on Saturday from Mitchell to Sioux Falls, there were few new landmarks or changes in terrain (though farms, lakes and forests cropped up more regularly than ranches). But I was able to reflect on a number of things I have noticed traveling at the speed of a bicycle.

Some things are not even seen. There are the sounds of singing birds, most recently meadowlarks, blackbirds and killdeer.

There are also smells, some pleasant, some less so. The pleasant include a browned-butter smell that may be the smell of warm alfalfa, fresh cut hay, and wet earth. Verging on unpleasant is fermenting silage and hayage. And decidedly unpleasant are feedlots and yes, the occasional road kill (sorry, but it is definitely a part of riding in the country).

There is plenty of wildlife that just goes by too quickly to capture, but the vision stays with me as I ride down the road. These have included eagles and other raptors soaring above the road, a few crows that dipped so low over the road I had to duck, two deer that crossed in front of me so close I had to slow down, hundreds of ducks in the wet fields inundated by recent rains, and today a great blue heron that was startled out of a roadside slough and flew gracefully over nearby fields.

And turtles. This one was just by the side of the road, and I managed to coax it back into the grass (others I have seen were not so lucky).

There are also the oddities that you might see from a car, but jump out at you at the speed of a bicycle. So far on the trip, these have included:

• this “junk sculpture” outside of Murdo, South Dakota;

• old abandoned farm equipment of all sorts (this near Belvidere, South Dakota);

• repurposed farm equipment (?) (near Chamberlain, South Dakota);

• and innovative fencing (near Canistota, South Dakota).

Sometimes even the litter (and it is EVERYWHERE) is interesting.

And of course, there are barns. These two were from Alexandria, South Dakota and just inside the Sioux Falls city limits, respectively.

The technical stuff:

79.3 miles

1,581 feet of climbing

Average speed 15.3 miles per hour

Weather: Hazy sunshine in the morning (due to smoke from fires in Canada); bright sunshine in the afternoon; temperatures around 45 to start and low 70s in the afternoon. Tail winds or left rear quartering winds about 10 to 15 miles per hour all day.

You can see the entire route to date here.

About As Exciting As It Gets

Bear with me as I cross eastern South Dakota. I won’t say it is monotonous, but here was the view in front and behind me at about the half way point of today’s ride.

Don’t get me wrong, it was still a nice ride. The weather was nearly ideal: temperatures in the 70s (though it did warm up to the high 80s by the end of the ride) and tail winds. And there was little traffic on mostly good roads. It’s just that if you’re looking for interesting tidbits from today’s ride, I don’t have much to offer you.

There was the world’s only corn palace in Mitchell, where we ended the day.

It really doesn’t get any more exciting than that folks.

On the other hand, there was an ice cream store across the street from the corn palace. By that time it had gotten quite warm, and there is nothing like a scoop or two of ice cream at the end of a long, hot ride.

There also was a welcome change in the terrain late in the day. For the first time time since we crossed the Cascade mountains, I saw forests of deciduous trees that were neither along a river nor planted next to farmhouses. And we are camped next to a lake this evening. The combination of forest and lake reminds me of Minnesota, which is only 100 miles away at this point.

There was a noteworthy barn along the way. Here it is.

The technical stuff:

73.3 miles

1,231 feet of climbing

Average speed 17 miles per hour

Weather: Hazy sunshine all day, temperatures around 60 to start and high 80s by the end of the ride in the early afternoon. Tail winds of about 10 to 15 miles per hour all day.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Across the Wide Missouri

The beginning of today’s ride from Murdo, SD to Chamberlain, SD was much like the end of yesterday’s ride: mixed cultivated farms and ranchland. I’d show you more pictures, but I think you’ve got the idea by this point.

The route has followed Interstate 90 very closely for the last two days, as it will for the next several days. Much of the ride is on frontage or service roads of Interstate 90; other parts drift away, but always parallel to the Interstate. There is a gap in the frontage road system just west of Chamberlain, though, so I either had to work around it or get on the Interstate for about 10 miles.

Going around added about 30 miles to the ride, but it was well worth it, as the route brought me to the Big Bend Dam in the Missouri River and then along the river down to Chamberlain. This was a welcome change of scenery. First I rode up to (but not over) these hills that stood out above the plain.

Then we reached the Big Bend Dam, and Lake Sharpe behind it.

Following the Missouri River down toward Chamberlain I was treated to rolling terrain with the wide Missouri in the background, and a few long descents and long climbs to round out a long ride.

We had planned to stay in the campground shown below, right on the river, but when we called earlier in the week, they let us know that would not be possible. The heavy rains earlier in the week had taken their toll. We found something a few miles away on higher ground.

It was a good day for barns. Here are several.

The technical stuff:

100.1 miles

2,776 feet of climbing

Average speed 16.6 miles per hour

Weather: High clouds in the morning with a few sprinkles and hazy sunshine in the afternoon, temperatures in the mid 50s to start and around 80 at the end, winds around 15 MPH in the morning and 5-10 MPH from the north-north-west: mostly tail winds.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Beef. It's What's For Dinner

My decision to ride to the Badlands on Sunday (then backtrack to Rapid City) rather than yesterday proved fortuitous. We woke Tuesday morning to a cold rain and strong wind, and I was glad to spend the day driving back to the Badlands rather than fighting the elements. We even had time for a stop at Wall Drug on the way back down to the Badlands. Wall Drug may be one of the most kitschy places on earth; and the free ice water was no draw given the plentiful cold water falling from the skies!

The rain stopped by the time we reached the park, and we were able to see in real time the type of erosion that built the Badlands. The standing water from the rain also brought out frogs, who provided soothing background as we fell asleep in the RV.

This morning dawned dry, with hazy sunshine and moderate winds, mostly at my back. Perfect riding weather.

Once we left the park, we were back in cattle country, and I realized that, outside of parks and urban areas, we had seen little but open range and cattle from west of Pocatello Idaho, all across Wyoming, down into Colorado, and this far into South Dakota, not to mention a good part of eastern Oregon. I know that range land dominates much of Montana and Nebraska as well. Seeing the country at the speed of a bicycle impressed on me the vast area devoted to raising beef cattle.

I am familiar with the arguments that raising beef cattle is an inefficient way to feed a population. It clearly takes a lot of land. But I am more impressed by the vast amounts of land available for the purpose. Sure, it may be more efficient to grow soybeans and vegetables and eat their products directly rather than feeding them to cattle, but honestly, how much tofu are we going to eat? Moreover, little of the land devoted to cattle looks to me like it would support cultivated agriculture.

I was struck by all this today because over the course of the day, the terrain finally started to change. In the morning, all I saw was ranch land. Starting about mid-day, the odd cultivated acreage appeared, and by the end of the day cultivated land had begun to predominate. Due to the late spring, the fields were mostly bare or just tinged with green, so it was hard to tell what is growing. At least one field appeared to be sunflowers (South Dakota is the country’s largest producer of sunflowers) based on remaining stalks from last year’s harvest.

Cultivation usually means barns, but they were in short supply today. This was the best of a limited selection.

There were a fair number of other abandoned buildings, including about half the buildings in the tiny town of Belvedere, where we stopped and made lunch in the RV. Here are a couple of those.

About 50 miles into today’s ride, I saw this painted on the road.

It may be Greek to you, but it meant a lot to me. My route was inspired by a route that America By Bicycle (ABB) follows across the northern part of the country, and I follow the same roads as ABB’s route in some areas. This is where the ABB route reached the half-way point between their start in Astoria, Oregon and their finish in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. My route is a bit longer than theirs, and almost all the additional mileage is yet to come, so I still have a few days before I hit the half-way point on my ride. It was fun to see this reminder that others have travelled this road before me!

The technical stuff:

71.25 miles

2,552 feet of climbing

Average speed 14.9 miles per hour

Weather: Hazy sunshine, temperatures in the low 50s to start and around 70 at the end, winds around 15 MPH from the north-north-west, so cross or rear quartering.

You can see the entire route to date here.

A Hard Ride to a Bad Land

I had originally planned two days’ rest in Rapid City, South Dakota, but that was when I thought I would be spending last week riding across Wyoming. With rainy weather expected Monday and Tuesday, I decided to use Sunday to get a jump on the ride I had planned for Tuesday, and ride from Rapid City to Badlands National Park.

One reason to ride across the country from west to east is that the prevailing winds tend to come from the west. But tendencies are like averages, and they mask wide variations. Sunday the winds blew from the southeast all day and I was heading, yep, southeast. The winds probably stayed under 20 MPH in the morning, but by the time we reached the gate at Badlands National Park they blew at 20 to 25 MPH with 35 MPH gusts. It looked and sounded like this as I pulled into the park.

Occasionally the road or the wind would turn enough that the wind was coming from the rear quarter, but the energy it took to hold my line more than offset any forward push the wind gave me. The shoulder was wide and there was little traffic, so I plodded on.

I usually regard the mileage on my computer with passing interest, but on this ride I watched it longingly: 25 miles, almost a third of the way done!; 38 miles, halfway!; 50 miles, almost two thirds! I really missed having someone to trade pulls. Sometimes, the road ahead looked endless.

Pulling into the wind makes it hard to keep an eye on the countryside, but the terrain was varied and clearly a change from further west. In Wind Cave National Park on Friday I saw an interpretive sign claiming that the Black Hills are where east meets west. I still feel like I’m in the west, but it’s a different kind of west, and clearly on the verge of the midwest.

We are still in cattle country, and these were not the dairy cows of Idaho but beef cattle like those we saw driving across Wyoming.

The range land is different from Idaho and Wyoming, with grassland rather than scrub brush and generally softer contours on the landscape.

The people here seem more midwestern as well. We have felt welcome everywhere, but further west, there was a sense of “why would you want to be here”? In South Dakota, people are a little more open (though still with that undertone of reserve that is characteristic of many midwesterners, myself included) and happy to have us.

The Badlands were preceded by sandy soils that were clearly inappropriate for either farming or ranch land.

Once in the park, the erosive effects of the last 500,000 years have left distinctive geological features that reminded Toni and me of Bryce Canyon in Utah. They are a little less colorful than Bryce, yet still present a vivid contrast to the surrounding mixed grass prairie.

And yes, there were a few barns; this one stood out.

We are in the midst of Memorial Day weekend, so we had made reservations in Rapid City to be sure we had a place to stay over the weekend. After Sunday’s ride we therefore backtracked in the RV to Rapid City via the Interstate. Tuesday, we will drive back to Badlands (where we have reservations in the campground) and pick up the route from there.

The technical stuff:

77.8 miles

1,253 feet of climbing

Average speed 13.7 miles per hour

Weather: Bright sunshine, temperatures in the low 60s to start and mid 70s at the end, winds 20-25 MPH with gusts to 35 MPH and mostly headwinds or crosswinds.

You can see the entire route to date here.

WHAT Was I Thinking?

Several days ago, I had decided that I needed to revise my ride plan to ride from Boulder Colorado through Nebraska toward Minnesota, where I would rejoin the route I had originally planned. I was afraid that the Black Hills would still be buried in snow, preventing me from riding there.

The decision didn’t sit well with me, and I did something I rarely do: I revisited my decision. I finally concluded that even if snow prevented me from riding in the Black Hills, we could drive around it and resume the ride in Rapid City, South Dakota.

Today I am so glad I revisited that decision. I rejoined my originally planned route in Hot Springs, South Dakota, just east of the Wyoming border and headed north. Yes, there was a little snow by the side of the road in the Black Hills.

But the roads were dry, and the ride was the most beautiful I have taken in my life (not excepting a ride around Lake Tahoe that organizers call the most beautiful bike ride in America).

The ride took us through Wind Cave National Park, famous for its caves, but remarkable for its prairie range land, where buffalo do indeed roam and antelope play.

The ecosystem was unlike any I have seen, with mixed grass prairie interspersed amid pine forests.

The land was also alive with sounds. The prairie dogs chattered as I rode past them.

And the moisture from the recently melted snow brought out frogs that chirped throughout the day.

Even the human presence was artistic and ingenious, like this “pigtail” bridge.

And this more conventional, and beautiful, bridge.

At the highest point in the ride, in Custer State Park, the open prairie to the east came into view. On a clear day can you see Minnesota? I doubt it, but you can certainly see a long way.

On the east front of the Black Hills, the terrain was still more varied, with jagged rock outcrops like these.

The extraordinary views continued as I rode into Rapid City along skyline drive. This view to the west was taken just a few miles from downtown Rapid City.

And yes, there were barns (or barn-like structures for the purists).

In short, it was great to be back in the saddle again, seeing beautiful country at the speed of a bicycle.

The technical stuff:

65.6 miles

5,967 feet of climbing

Average speed 12.9 miles per hour

Weather: Bright sunshine, temperatures in the 50s to start and about 70 at the end, winds 5-10 miles in the morning and 15-20 miles per hour in the afternoon, from the south (so tail winds almost all day).

You can see the entire route to date here.

Leaving Boulder

We finally had beautiful weather in Boulder, so I took advantage of the nice weather to get a bit of a ride in around Boulder before we headed to Hot Springs, South Dakota. It was quite a long drive up here, so I’m just going to leave you with a few pictures of the Boulder area and the route data. Enjoy.

The bicycle paths around Boulder are excellent!

The Rockies with their fresh coat of snow receded as I rode eastward

There were better barns on the drive to South Dakota, but hard to capture them at the speed of a car!

for the entire route, you can see (in grey) the drive to Fort Collins.

The technical stuff:

26.7 miles

502 feet of climbing

Average speed 15.0 miles per hour

Weather: Bright sunshine, temperatures in the 60s, tail and front quartering winds at 10-15 mph

You can see the entire route to date here.

Bumming Around Boulder

Boulder has a varied workforce including educators, students and high technology workers, but we also met our share of “ski bums” and others working odd jobs to support other outdoor passions.

The weather largely prevented me from pursuing my outdoor passion, so Toni and I bummed around Boulder in our own fashion for several days. This included eating and drinking, taking in the urban street scene, and visiting the Museum of Boulder.

Toni gives a full review of our dinner at Frasca here.  It was a memorable meal, and we also had other notable meals in town.  These included dinner at The Kitchen Bistro on Monday, lunch at the Dushanbe Boulder Teahouse on Wednesday, drinks and light dinner at License No.1 in the Boulderado Hotel, breakfast at Lucille’s Thursday morning, and dinner at Flagstaff House on Thursday evening. 

Each of these meals was remarkable in its own way. 

• Our dinner at The Kitchen Bistro included a moist and flavorful pork chop and pasta Bolognese, but the real treat was a 2007 Chianti Classico Riserva that was a perfect pairing for the Bolognese (and not bad with the pork either). 

• The Dushanbe Boulder Teahouse is a unique architectural experience.  It was constructed by local artisans in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, then dismantled and reassembled in Boulder as part of a cultural exchange in 1990.  Boulder’s contribution to the exchange was construction of one of the first cyber cafes for Dushanbe.  I think Boulder got the better end of the deal.  The Teahouse serves a full menu of central Asian food in addition to a wide selection of teas.

• License No.1 in the Boulderado derives its name from the fact that it received the first liquor license in Boulder after the city went wet, over thirty years after the end of prohibition! The bar proclaims that it has been serving Boulder since 1909, and legally since 1969.  The ambience reflects its early history as a speakeasy, hidden away in the basement with dim lights, dark wood furnishings, and red leather banquettes.  We enjoyed their specialty, an Old Fashioned, and the prime rib sliders made a meal for the evening.

• Lucille’s is a quaint, New Orleans themed restaurant with friendly service and excellent hot chocolate and eggs benedict with pan fried trout (among many other tempting items on the menu). Most of the patrons appeared to be members of the Colorado University community meeting over breakfast to discuss research projects and the like.

• Flagstaff House offers remarkable views from the hills above the town, but the food and wine are worth the trip even without the great views.

We also visited Pearl Street, the pedestrian mall that runs through the heart of downtown Boulder.  We walked its length on a cold, rainy afternoon, and the atmosphere was somewhat subdued. It reminded us very much of the Church Street mall in Burlington, Vermont, where Kyle went to school.  I’m sure Pearl Street is as lively and eclectic on a warm summer evening as Church Street was the several times we visited there.

The Museum of Boulder provided the proper haven from cold rainy weather, and it was just across the street from our hotel, so we took that in one afternoon.  The Museum is quite small.  The first floor was taken up by the obligatory (but tiny) gift shop and an exhibit that promotes the reintroduction of wolves in the Colorado Rocky Mountains, arguing that reintroduction would improve balance to ecosystems in Colorado as it has done in Yellowstone and central Idaho.  The second floor devotes a room to an interactive exploration of the past and present of Boulder.  It provides useful background on Boulder’s culture, from displacement of Native American populations, through the mid 19th century mining boom, to the development of Boulder as an education and technology center.  If you visit Boulder, this exhibit is a good quick introduction.

I spent much of my time in Boulder trying to forget that I was supposed to be on my bicycle all week.  But Boulder contains too many reminders of its cycling heritage to allow me to forget.  The museum referenced the Boulder Bicycle Club’s start in 1890, Boulder’s role in launching the Coors Classic bicycle race, and the extensive bicycle path network in and around Boulder.  And this is the picture that is above me as I write up these notes in the Boulderado Hotel.

We’re leaving Boulder Friday and plan to drive to South Dakota to rejoin the cross-country route.  Given Boulder’s rich cycling heritage (and the need to reacquaint my legs with daily rides), I plan on cycling my way out of town when we leave tomorrow.  I’ll only ride the first 35 miles of the 350 miles to South Dakota, but at least it’s something!

Winter is Coming

Actually it is already here — or at least where we planned to be. The picture above is a view this morning of Togwotee Pass, the pass over the continental divide I had planned to ride yesterday. The picture below is a view this morning of the road I had planned to be riding today.

Needless to say, I’m glad we changed our plans.

Before escaping the snow, I had a brief ride around Jackson Hole on Saturday. We’ve visited the Jackson area a number of times, and I’ve even ridden around the area, but Saturday’s ride covered some ground I had only seen from the car. Part of the route followed the route I would have taken out of town if I were riding across Wyoming, and I felt a little wistful that I was not continuing along the planned route.

I got one last view of the Snake River, which we’d been following since before Boise, with the Tetons in the background.

I’d seen this barn from the road many times; it looks much better by bicycle.

I rode through the town of Jackson, where the annual antler auction was in process. Any of you who have visited Jackson are familiar with the antler arches in the town square. There is an elk preserve just north of town, and every year, thousands of elk visit the reserve just around the time they shed their antlers. Each spring, the local boy scouts scour the reserve, pick up the shed antlers (they just call them “sheds” around town) and auction them off on the third Saturday in May. The buyers are largely makers of “antler furnishings” (lamps and other decorative items). The proceeds are split between the Boy Scouts and the Elk Reserve. It is quite the event in Jackson.

There is an extensive bicycle trail system around Jackson, and I rode the trail north of town into Teton National Park and the small town of Moose, where Toni met me and we stopped at the park visitor center.

This area offers some of the best views of the Teton mountains, though they showed a gloomier aspect today than in August when we normally visit the area.

Saturday evening, I enjoyed dinner of bison ravioli and pheasant at the Wild Sage restaurant in the town of Jackson. Toni doubled down on the bison theme with bison short ribs. They were all excellent. For my wine geek friends, the pheasant paired extremely well with a 2016 Merry Edwards Pinot Noir (Olivet Lane).

We left bright and early Sunday morning from Jackson Hole, driving to Fort Collins, Colorado, and we were treated to a Teton sunrise.

We crossed the continental divide near Buford Wyoming in late afternoon, watching the signs that warned of winter weather conditions in a few hours. We made it through the pass before the snow arrived and got to Fort Collins in time to watch the season finale of Game of Thrones. It’s beginning to feel like we are in the midst of the long winter of Westeros.

My ride around Jackson Hole is shown below. If you click on the link for the entire route, you can see (in grey) the drive to Fort Collins.

The technical stuff:

27.9 miles

751 feet of climbing

Average speed 15.0 miles per hour

Weather: Mostly overcast with a some periods of sunshine and some showers. Temperature in the low 50s. Winds variable but mostly tailwinds.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Except . . . Wyoming?

Here is the weather forecast for the next five days in each of the towns I had planned to ride to in Wyoming:

Dubois, WY

Riverton, WY

Casper, WY

Douglas, WY

Lusk, WY

Snow on four of five days is not exactly what I had planned. In fact, when I planned the trip, I checked the weather each day for the town I planned to visit on that date in 2019. The high temperatures each day last year were in the high 60s and low 70s; not the least hint of snow. What a difference a year makes!

As I said yesterday, my goal is to ride an unbroken line except for . . ., with the exceptions to be determined. Well, snow is certainly one of the exceptions, and it looks like that translates into “except Wyoming.”

So, we’re going to improvise. Toni and I have always wanted to visit Boulder, Colorado, so we are going to stay ahead of the snow by driving south towards Boulder starting Sunday. We plan to spend a few days in Boulder, maybe get a little riding in around there, and watch how the weather develops. We expect to rejoin the planned route by driving up to Hot Springs, South Dakota. The current forecast for Hot Springs next Friday (even the name sounds warmer) is partly cloudy skies and highs in the mid-60s.

I hear the bicycling around Boulder is terrific. I’ll save Wyoming for another day.

We took some time today to visit the Jackson Hole Winery, one of only several wineries in Wyoming, and probably the highest altitude winery in the country. The wines were remarkably good, and we had a good conversation with Tony Schroth, the winemaker and owner. I’ll be writing up that conversation in the next couple of days and posting it in the Conversations blog.

Sorry, no barns today.

They Call the Wind Maria*

When I set out to do a cross country ride, I had to decide what I meant by “cross country ride”. Did it mean ride a little bit each day along a route that crossed the country or get on my bicycle and not use any other means of transportation until I reached the other side of the country? I decided it meant “ride my bicycle in an unbroken line from one end of the country to the other, except . . .” That meant I was free to drive (or be a passenger) at various points (as when we drove to and from Boise) as long as I started bicycling where I had stopped.

And then there was the “except” clause. I wasn’t sure what the exceptions would be, but I accepted that there would be some.

Today, I found an exception, and it was somewhere between “except when it’s not fun” and “except when it’s not safe.”

I started out in Ririe, Idaho, battling a strong headwind with occasional gusts on a rough but quiet road. It was not fun, but I felt safe if a bit battered about. Shortly after I turned onto a highway, though, I decided that it had gone beyond “not fun,” and the combination of the gusts and traffic verged on unsafe. There was a wide shoulder, but I still felt quite uncomfortable every time an 18-wheeler passed and I got blown from one side of the shoulder to the other. I packed it in. Here’s a short clip taken just after we crossed into Wyoming of the wind I was battling.

I got back on the bicycle for a short while when we entered a valley that seemed sheltered, but I soon found the wind picked up around every corner, and the shoulders disappeared to nothing. I accepted that I would be a passenger most of the rest of the day.

There were a few spots where I really wanted to ride my bicycle. We drove through the Swan Valley of the Snake River and Palisades Reservoir in Idaho and the valley of the Snake River south of Jackson, Wyoming. They were each beautiful, and I would have loved to see them at the speed of a bicycle rather than the speed of a car.

From the safety of the RV, a number of spots seemed safe enough to ride, but getting on the bike and then back in the RV every time the wind got gusty or the road got narrow was not worth the hassle. I stayed in the RV until we reached the bicycle path just outside of Jackson, and then rode the last half dozen miles into town.

Those last few miles were enough to catch one barn, though I suspect I missed others while a passenger.

The Jackson Hole area is one of Toni’s and my favorite places in the world, and we have planned a couple of luxurious rest days here. We’re staying in the Four Seasons in Teton Village and have some good meals lined up at several of Jackson’s fine restaurants. I’m also glad to be off the bicycle the next few days, as cold rain and even a little snow are predicted. Unfortunately, the long-term forecast is not much better, so I may be applying the “except” clause to the unbroken line principle some more next week. I’ll take things one day at a time.

*The song title is in fact spelled “They Call the Wind Maria,” even though it is pronounced Mariah. You can look it up.

The technical stuff:

14.4 miles

566 feet of climbing

Average speed 11.6 miles per hour

Weather: Mostly overcast with a some periods of sunshine. Temperature in the 60s. Headwinds and crosswinds of 20-25 miles per hour with higher gusts. Afternoon showers and thunderstorms.

Grey areas represent portion of the ride in the RV

You can see the entire route to date here.

Head for the Hills

We started out this morning in Pocatello with the Bannock Mountain Range to the south of us, and headed north and east towards Idaho Falls. Every time we headed east, we approached a mountain range: first the Portneuf Range and by the end of the day the Caribou Range. We kept heading for the hills.

At one point, we even brushed the foothills and had a few rollers to contend with.

By the end of the day, our RV campsite nestled right into the foothills.

This was all precursor to tomorrow’s ride when we plan to head out of Idaho and into the Jackson Hole area of Wyoming.

Today being our last full day in Idaho, I realized I hadn’t seen a single potato plant. Little wonder — potatoes have just been planted, so most potato fields no doubt look like this.

Though Idaho may be famous for its potatoes, it left its impression on me as a dairy farming state, as the farms I commented on a couple days ago continued to dominate the landscape I rode through.

Trains were also evident throughout Idaho, especially in Pocatello last night (train whistles woke us several times) and on the way up toward Idaho Falls this morning.

And railroads have clearly been important to Idaho for some time. I saw several boxcars today repurposed as storage sheds, including these two.

Which brings us to today’s barn. Barns are more plentiful in eastern Idaho than the rest of the state, so I finally had a few choices. Here’s the winner.

The technical stuff:

89.4 miles

1,316 feet of climbing

Average speed 16.4 miles per hour

Weather: Thin high clouds in the morning and overcast with thundershowers in the afternoon, a couple of which we had to wait out just before we finished the day. Temperatures in mid-50s at the beginning, warming to mid-70s then cooling under influence of thundershowers. Winds light in the morning and early afternoon and tail winds in the late afternoon.

You can see the entire route to date here.

Threading the Needle

Just before I started out from Heyburn, Idaho this morning on the way to Pocatello, I checked the weather radar, and then quickly looked at the sky. There were showers off to the southwest and they were heading in our direction.

I headed out, hoping we could outrun or avoid them. Soon there were showers in several directions around me, but I managed to thread the needle between them.

Eventually the sky cleared in most directions, and for several hours, I relaxed my weather eye and enjoyed the scenery.

This may look like the same area we were in two days ago. I assure you, we have covered a lot of ground since then. And though the pictures may look similar, one of the advantages of seeing the country at the speed of a bicycle is that differences in similar areas become apparent. The landforms today were less pronounced; the mountains in the background were less present; and the sagebrush was interspersed with more grass.

The area was also much more remote. For about ten miles, Toni in the van and I on my bicycle were the only people around. We could see a good two and a half miles either side of the road, so that was about 50 square miles without any human habitation. There weren’t even any cattle around.

Around mid-day, I threaded a needle of a different sort. Although bicycle riding is permitted on the interstate where necessary, I have tried to avoid it. There was one four-mile section of the route today on I-86 that I had not found a way around. But a three mile section of gravel road (plus a few more miles of pavement) looked like a way around the interstate, if it was rideable. When I reached the road, I decided it was worth a try. It worked, and I was rewarded with this stunning view of the countryside and skyscape.

I also found this nice juxtaposition between an old windmill on one side of the road and new windmills on the other.

Our luck threading the needle ran out in the afternoon. As I rode a gravel stretch on the frontage road along the freeway, one of the day’s storms caught up to us. Fortunately, Toni had been staying very close to me in the RV, and we were able to duck into a truck stop just as the wind started whipping around and the rain started to fall. We took full advantage of having our home away from home, and took a brief nap while we waited out the storm. Within 45 minutes we were on our way, and able to complete the last six miles of the day’s ride into the outskirts of Pocatello.

On the theory that half a barn is better than none, here is today’s barn. It was across the freeway so I couldn’t get a cleaner shot.

The technical stuff:

82.1 miles

2,427 feet of climbing

Average speed 14.5 miles per hour

Weather: Partly cloudy with showers and thunderstorms in the area throughout the day. Low 50s to start, high in mid-70s later, but cooler near the storm at the end. Winds were light and variable, except for a cross wind after the storm late in the day

You can see the entire route to date here.