The 25 mile day worked OK for my tibialis tendon so the next day I upped it to 40 miles, riding to Hutchinson MN. The first part of the ride was on a paved bike path. It even had a stripe in the middle. Nice touch.

Within 10 miles I was on regular roads, but pretty nice ones with little traffic. I passed through the towns of New Germany, Lester Prairie, and Silver Lake along the way. Hutchinson is a nice town, and is on the shores of a couple of lakes. Someone built a cool tree house in their front yard.  I think my daughter, Ellie, would love it. Maybe she and I could build something similar in our backyard sugar maple in the fall.

On my way to dinner I happened on a bike store, Outdoor Motion. I have been worried that I will break another spoke on the side of the back wheel where the cluster of gears (the cassette) prevents easy replacement. To do so requires a special tool that fits the cassette, as well as something called a chain whip with which to grab the gears. (BTW: Don’t google “chain whip” w/o the word “bicycle” or you get some kinky stuff.) I had bought the tool back in Minneapolis, because there is absolutely no substitute for it, and it’s light:

The chain whip is heavy, and in a pinch, I figured I could grip the gears in a vice at a car shop. (I’m assuming bike shops will be scarce over the next 1000 miles or so.)  But at Outdoor Motion, the service technician, Luke, cut off the heavy part of a chain whip leaving me with the business end, which can definitely be clamped in a vice if needed. He even ground down the sharp edges to make it toolkit friendly.

Thanks Luke!

For dinner, I went to Zella’s in the center of town. They have a menu of straightforward dishes prepared from fresh local ingredients. I had a delicious salad, which was a take on a Cobb, but with Romaine, which seems an improvement over iceberg.

For an entrée, I tried their bacon wrapped meatloaf on a bed of mashed potatoes over whole grain toast. They somehow made it elegant, and it seemed perfect for the upper Midwest. Across the street was a small urban park with a beautiful building.

Today (Independence Day – July 3rd) I tested my tibialis tendon on a long ride, 70 miles. Leaving Hutchinson, I soon entered Renville County and planned to ride County Road 11 nearly the entire way to Granite Falls. The wind, which has been at my back for several days was head on (though not strong). But much worse, RENVILLE COUNTY DOESN”T MAINTAIN THEIR ROADS. Route 11 was poorly paved, and there are joints every 5 to 30 feet. Hitting each one at 10 to 15 miles an hour causes a significant thump, jarring to both bike and rider. This image was in one of the rare sections where they had at least put tar in the cracks. You get the idea.

Arrived Granite Falls, which is a little down at the heels. The motel had screwed up my reservation, so had to give me a Jacuzzi room as their only available.  I’ll never use it, but CC is like a Labrador, she loves the water.

(Click on any image for a larger view)

Because it’s tendonitis, rest seems to be an essential part of my recovery.  It killed me, but I took all of Monday off.  I was in the town of Prairie Eden, which is all suburbs and huge malls.  No prairie, and certainly no Eden. My tibialis did not feel at all better by the end of the day; very depressing.

But the rest (along with ice, stretching, and massage) meant I woke today feeling noticeably better.  That encouraged me to continue my riding a short distance to Waconia MN. It’s a short 25 miles, and I did it with the effort I might put into walking.  The miracle of the bicycle is that that translates to a speed over 11 mph.

The first half of the ride was on parts of the amazing bike path network around Minneapolis.

Some of it winds through the woods.

But in other places paths just run through backyards. This path is simply the property line between numerous suburban houses.  It’s as natural as the road running in front.

The network is so complex, it was lucky I had my GPS to guide me through the maze.

I got to Waconia in a couple of hours.  It’s a cute town on Lake Waconia.  There are lots of shops and boutiques in the central older part of town. Here’s a coffee shop  went to, and an interesting building across from where I ate dinner.

I’m not sure if this is a national phenomenon, but here in the Midwest, it seems all the free continental breakfasts include a cook-yourself-waffles station.  The machine on the right dispenses batter, you pour it into the iron on the left, you pivot it 180 degrees, and a timer goes off to tell you when it’s done.  Works quite well actually.

Here’s a cause we can all get behind.

Today went well, though it was very unusual. I’m reminded of the scene in The Wizard of Oz, where Dorothy and friends arrive in the Emerald City and gets a complete makeover.

The Better World Club (AAA for bikes) picked me up in a reasonable amount of time (though at first saying it would be 2 to 3 hours, this in the Minneapolis metro area!). I got a ride to Erik’s Bike Shop, where technician Ryan replaced the spoke, trued the wheel, and cleaned and lubricated the drive train (chain and derailleurs). CC looks beautiful again, and more importantly, was free from all the damaging crud that we had picked up on unintended dirt and gravel roads in the first 1500 miles. She shifts so much sweeter now, important when you change gears thousands of times a day.  (You know me well enough to know this is not a figure of speech.)            Thanks Ryan!

Then it was my turn. I rode about 5 miles on some of Minneapolis’s amazing network of bike trails to see a physical therapist, an expert on bike injuries, who squeezed me into her schedule. She did an amazing job, working with – and on – me for over an hour to help to resolve my anterior tibialis tendinitis (her diagnosis). I probably partly induced it by protecting my left knee with my right leg (see earlier post). There’s more to the overuse injury than that, but probably not of interest to even my very best friends. She recommended a suite of techniques I can employ, which should have me cautiously back on the trail before long.

(I use her website photo, because the one I took was atrocious.)

This rest-ice-massage-stretching strategy sure beats the alternative: I was checking out the price of flights from MPL to LGA while I was waiting for CC to be repaired.

Minneapolis is a wonderful city of lakes. Though I’m too much of a water chemist not to be dismayed by the hyper-eutrophication I see in some of them. The problem is too much fertilizer put on too many lawns; it’s the most chemically intensive form of agriculture out there.

The last 2 days have been a mixed bag. Yesterday I rode on more fantastic Wisconsin county roads. Wind was favorable again, and it was a lovely sunny day. Unfortunately, even though my knee problem seems to have gone away, I developed a shin problem on the other leg.  My muscles, and heart, and lungs, are strong, but all the connective tissues are weaker. Could I be aging?  (No impossible.)  Arrived in Menomonie and went to dinner at a place above Lake Menomonie. Nice view. This photo doesn’t do it justice. Not so weird eating alone in these days of the smart phone.

Today I woke to rain that was ending early. I decided to take a short ride to near Minneapolis and visit a sports medicine clinic the next day (it being Sunday) and take Monday off to rest the ankle. Unfortunately, 5 miles in I popped another spoke. Same side, and because of the cassette, impossible to repair with tools I carry. I called Better World Club (AAA for bikes!), but I was more than my allotted distance (30 miles) form an open bike shop. I was able to true the wheel enough to ride, and traveled 45 miles to Hudson, not far from Minneapolis. Tomorrow, I will use BWC to carry the bike to a shop in Minneapolis (and me to a human shop) to repair us both.
Wisconsin has been really great. This image captures it. Nice road, well-marked, pretty scenery. I highly recommend Wisconsin for cycling.

And more pretty scenery.

And an oddly named town.

Here’s some of the first large scale irrigation systems I’ve seen.  It’s getting drier and drier.  I love the pattern of the irrigators.  they look like a dinosaur.

There have been lots of yard signs throughout NY, ON, MI, and WI for and against fracking and wind turbines.  My favorite (no picture sadly) was a big one that said NIMBY in huge letters.

Today’s ride was again fantastic.  The combination of Wisconsin’s well-marked roads, rolling/flat landscape, beautiful scenery, and a slight tail wind (no it doesn’t always blow west to east), made for perfect cycling conditions.  I made the 70+ miles from Merrill to Thorp at an average speed of 15.9 mph without pushing hard. On a bike, that feels fast, especially because, except for climbs (see related post), I was often going 20 or faster.

Roads I took were lightly traveled, and Wisconsin drivers are very helpful, generally pulling into the other lane as they approach me from behind to give me space.

I often crest a hill and see a long stretch of road in front of me.  This used to unnerve me, as I thought, “What again?”.  Now, I find it encouraging, as I never see more than a couple of miles ahead, really just a few minutes.  I now think, “Good.  Another chunk of distance I can cover quickly”.  I also make a point of looking back at the end to see what I’ve put behind me.

This image is typical of the beautiful Wisconsin landscape, a combination of prosperous looking farms and woodlands.

I am in Mennonite territory, and saw amazing farms maintained only with animal power.  The most interesting sight I saw was what appeared to be a birthday party (a half dozen carriages parked at one house), with a bunch of kids in Mennonite garb bouncing on a trampoline! I wish I could have taken a picture, but it seemed too intrusive.

BTW: Mennonite kids are never overweight.  Funny what good food and exercise will do…

Yesterday was pretty good, except for one self-inflicted terrible part.  I left Iron Mountain, MI, and was immediately in the new state of Wisconsin.  Roads were pleasant and un-traveled for the most part.  A couple on a motorcycle stopped to ask me for directions.  I’m sure I was farther from home than they, but I had a good map I had bought that morning, and I’m pretty sure I sent them the right way.  It was near where I took a picture of these bison.  I expect to be eating bison burgers soon.

Then I came to a decision point in the hamlet of Fence.  (I was on one, so appropriate.)  Either go a little out of my way on a small road, or be on a bigger one.  I went for the small road.  Bad choice. The road was beautiful for 3 miles, then became unpaved.  Rather than retreat, I forged on.  In some cases these roads return to pavement after a short distance.  Not today.  Plus the road went from smooth dirt to what a sign actually called “rustic”.  Translation, rough gravel that CC didn’t like.  (CC is my bike’s name, for Cross Continent.  She’s basically a road bike, and much prefers pavement, though tolerates dirt for short distances.)  The good map didn’t show all the back roads and I ended up riding on this crap for over 10 miles. Back on the road at a location not indicated on the map, things went smoothly.  I finished in Crandon, WI, ATV capital of the world, or so they claim.  Had great onion rings and a shake at a drive-in, where they come to your car to take and deliver the order.   Sorry, I didn’t get a photo.

But today was amazing.  Wisconsin has an elaborate network of paved country roads, well-marked (on my map at least) .  (The bad road yesterday had a special designation.  I should have known better.)  I followed these good back roads for 70 miles to the town of Merrill.  The wind was at my back and I saw roughly one car per hour, with great scenery.  Once I wanted to stop for a rest and some snacks, and what should appear but this.

I would have camped there if the timing had been right.

The miles rolled by effortlessly.  I would have gone another 10 miles, but the next town with lodging was 30 miles farther.

Oh yeah.  Weird experience.  I hit a squirrel!  He darted out in front of me on a downhill.  I swerved, but he swerved better, right under my bike.  I looked back, and he was standing in the road, either shaking his paw at me or giving me the finger. Hard to tell.

I am enjoying seeing interesting old buildings.  The first is an old saloon.  The second a gorgeous town hall (Ugly brick version is across the street).  The third is a historic saloon and general store.  And the 4th is an interesting school in the middle of nowhere that I think is still active.

Pray for the squirrel’s rapid recovery.

Here’s an unhappy calculation about riding in hilly areas.

Let’s say you are cycling somewhere that is mainly hills, and they are symmetrical (same length up as down).  For sake of argument, let’s say you have a 6 mile long climb followed by a 6 mile long descent, just to keep the math simple.  I am a pretty aggressive climber (right Jenn and Frank?) and can go about 6 mph up with my loaded bike.  On the descent, 24 mph is easy without even peddling. That means the ascent would take 1 hour, whereas the descent would take 15 minutes. So, out of the 1 hr 15 min period you traveled that hill, 80% of the time you’d be climbing.  Ouch!

Also, no matter how fast you ride down,  you can never do better than doubling the uphill rate as an average speed for the hill.  Thus, in the previous example, if you came down the hill at the speed of light, you’d have covered 12 miles in one hour, twice your uphill rate. Any realistic downhill speed gives you a slightly slower average.  Moral: Climb quickly.

I still like hills.  In the Tour de France, I would be the guy with the polka dot jersey, the King of the Mountains.

(Photo credit: Tour de France)

(Photo credit: Jenn Langheld)

After our failure to paddle from Canada back to the US, the next day we arranged for a ride around Georgian Bay to about where we would have been E-W, though quite a bit north. Instead of a 1.5 mile paddle, it was a 200 mile drive. Crossing the border at Sault Ste Marie, Frank headed for the airport, and I rode toward Trout Lake. Frank was renting a car at the airport, driving far back to “Soo” to get a box for his bike, then meeting me at Trout Lake. Rain was predicted and looked pretty certain from the radar. I raced to arrive ahead of the rain, which never was more than a sprinkle. But I did travel fast, maybe too fast, going 54 mi at a 14.5 mph pace. My left knee started to hurt. The next day, Frank packed up his bike while I headed off toward Manistique, MI. Thirty miles into the ride, my knee was extremely painful and almost impossible to walk on. Uh oh. I limped the remaining 40 miles. The road was Route 2, which is very busy, but at least with a wide margin.

Mosquitos here were insane. Stopping the bike was almost impossible. Thank God I didn’t get a flat.

The next day (22 June) I decided to go relatively short, stopping at Escanaba. It still ended up being 55 miles, though not the 70 I’ve grown used to. My knee was still extremely painful. In Escanaba I made an appointment to see an orthopod to evaluate my knee. Honestly things looked pretty dire, and I was contemplating plans B. Limp to Minneapolis and fly home? I had a pasty for dinner.

Pastys are meat pies with various fillings. I love the concept, though the one I got was pretty unspecial.

I woke today with almost no pain at all. Very strange, but welcome. The orthopod identified the problem as per anserine bursitis.

This turns out to be a much better sentence than tendonitis, which takes forever to heal. He also prescribed prednisone, which I started to take immediately. I also rode VERY slowly, planning to stop after just 25 miles. But I felt so good, I decided to go to the next motel (about 10 mile along) and the next, and so forth. I ended up going 64 miles and felt great. I was also inspired by entering the Central Time Zone and gaining an hour, and also discovering I have now gone over 1000 miles.

Seems impossible, but true. Huge thanks due to Jenn and Frank who got me here.

At one point I got off the too busy Route 2 and saw this beautiful old road house.

I’m collecting one stone from each state/province.  I got my Michigan stone from Fumee Falls, just before reaching Iron Mountain at the end of today (23 June).

Biggest complaint so far is that finding roads that are small, but still paved can be v challenging.

I’ve been sampling regional food specialties, but I decided to skip this one:

Our ride across Manitoulin Island (largest freshwater lake in the world) went very well. We left Providence Bay in a dense fog, which quickly lifted, and we found that the island has almost no traffic. The few cars we saw were very good about moving to the extreme left to accommodate us. Folks in Canada generally seem to be good to cyclists. The landscape is gently rolling, and the farms are quite beautiful. A signature feature here is the use of split cedar rails to make fences.

It also seems like many properties are for sale. Hard to make a living here, I suppose. This one farm house seemed especially bittersweet. The yard was completely overgrown, but the path to the door was still marked by beautiful roses the owners had planted.

We got caught in thh rain and were waiting it out under a roof at The Silver Water community enter.  A couple of homesteaders (Eric and Nancy) , stopped to ask if we knew that there was a restaurant a few hundred feet around the corner (these are rare).  They offered to drive us! but we just met them there and shared a light lunch.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get their picture.

We stayed at the Meldrum Bay Inn on the western tip of the island. If you want a great vacation, go there. Here is a view from the inn:

The bay is gorgeous, and the Inn is a delight. Shirin Grover

and her husband Bob are the owners, and the place is a beautiful historic landmark. The Inn has about 10 rooms, and is just wonderful.  Shirin had bent over backwards to accommodate the two crazy cyclists from the States, in too many ways to describe here.  She is one of the nicest hoteliers I have ever met. I STRONGLY recommend a stay at her wonderful Inn. The food is fantastic too (Bob is the chef). I finally had a chance to sample the local whitefish. It was perfectly prepared in a simple but delicious way that allowed the fresh local ingredient to shine through. The sides were perfectly prepared. What a find!

Out next step on the trip was to get to Cockburn (pronounced Co-burn) Island and paddle to Drummond Island, Michigan, USA. A very helpful man named Jim Noble carried us on his boat to the island and arranged for a ride to the west shore, where we were to start. (Jim couldn’t carry us to Drummond Island because of the international border and regulations governing crossings.) Skies were perfectly clear, and winds light. It seemed like perfect conditions. We had to ride on the tailgate of the truck, because our gear and bikes filled the back of the truck.
Unfortunately, when we got to the shore, the wind was howling out of the south, with whitecaps. (The channel runs north-south). If we were to paddle, we could easily be blown out into the main lake and need a coast guard rescue at best. We could see the island only about a mile away, and yet there was no way to get there. EXTREME DISAPPOINTMENT. Everything had gone so much in our favor until this moment. Our only realistic choice was to head back and take a different route. What was especially frustrating is that the winds back at Tolsmaville, where we had arrived by boat, were light and from the NE, exactly the conditions we needed.

The difference between one side of the island and the other was striking. As we took the boat back to Meldrum Bay, we crossed Missassagi Strait, and the winds there were again strong and from the south.

The two channels seem to have very different weather from the rest of the region. Oh well. We tried.