Covid Cross Day #22 Houlton, WI to Dalbo, MN
Covid Cross Day #22
June 23, 2020
Houlton, WI to Dalbo, MN 83 Miles
Start 6:13 AM Finish 4:36 PM
Ride Time 8:28
Ascent 1375 Feet
Descent 1262 Feet
Tour Total 1943 Miles
Details at: https://cyclemeter.com/3f1ef27914a4c684/Cycle-20200623-0613-79218I slept alright last night stealth camping in somebody’s backyard next to a dental clinic in Houlton. The ground was bumpy underneath where I pitched my tent. It was cool and a comfortable temperature for sleeping. I woke up with the sunrise and birds chirping, and was on the road by 6:15 AM. I needed to get out of there before anyone noticed me.
It was chilly and I was wearing my sweater. I took County Road E to County Road V. This year's route was so much better with the lift bridge open. Fellow west-bounders, Sidd and Chris, had made it to Minneapolis last night. I passed my first bunny at 6:30 AM. A family of deer was nibbling grass alongside the road. By the time I got my camera functioning and unclipped, they were gone. A full-grown deer crossed the road in front of me, right as I was turning onto Highway 64. The four-lane divided highway was like an expressway. At least it offered a wide shoulder.
I was only on the busy highway for one exit. Afterwards I zigzagged north and west on country roads. I came to a confusing intersection that doubled as a railroad crossing, and remembered that it had confused me last year. One of the advantages of mirroring on Crazy Guy is the added support I received. Reptile Guy checked in to let me know that I had seen a map turtle the other day. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northern_map_turtle
It was still early and I was riding down the road. I saw a TURD sign and thought to myself, I’m sick and tired of seeing these F-ing TURD signs. What the hell! I’m gonna rip it down! It was in somebody’s front yard and there was a house across the street. There was a bit of morning traffic and I needed to be quick. I ran over to grab the sign, right as a car approached. I pulled it out of the ground and threw it on the grass. At this point I realized the sign had been boobytrapped. There was greasy slime along the top and sides, and my left hand was covered. Also, what was I now supposed to do with this sign? After the motorist had passed, I picked it up off the ground and chucked it into the woods. Gooey grease was all over my left hand, and now all over my left handlebar, brake lever, and gear shifter. F-ing TURD supporters. Why do they have to be so mean? It looked like peanut butter and jelly, but had no smell. For all I knew, it was smeared with Covid. I pulled over several times to rub my hands in the grass to no avail. At one point I rubbed several bunches of long grass all over my handlebars. Whatever that nasty greasy stuff was, it wouldn't go away.
Since before the tour began I’d been in contact with westbound touring cyclist Jane from Chicago. She was riding the Lewis and Clark trail, and for some reason I thought I could catch her. She was now in Circle Montana and I doubted that I’d ever see her. She mentioned in her blog that the recent cold weather there had been in the 40's. I’ve read the accounts of eastbound touring cyclists Kevin and Monique who were doing the Northern Tier and posting to Crazy Guy. They seemed to be taking it pretty slow. Another large deer ran across the road. I loved watching their gracefully leaps.
I stopped at the Watershed Cafe in Osceola, right after the turn-off to the bridge. No one was wearing a mask, and I went straight to the bathroom to wash the smear off my hands. I ordered the Riverside Breakfast with scrambled eggs and bacon, along with a large, mostly foam, cappuccino and a pulpy orange juice. It was another one of those places where you have to order at the front counter, like McDonalds, and then they bring it to you. I prefer table service.
Before I left, I grabbed a wad of paper towels saturated with cleaning solvent to wipe my smeared left handlebar and glove. I got most of the goop off. I hopped on my bike and crossed the bridge over the Saint Croix and back into Minnesota. I had a good three nights in Wisconsin. It was now time to venture west across Minnesota.
I took State Highway 95 north for a mile to County Road 26, also known as Pleasant Valley Road. The sun peeked through the clouds at about 9:30 AM. Minnesota boasts 10,000 lakes and that’s no exaggeration. The lakes began as soon as I crossed the state border. I spotted a goal frame and netting sitting in the woods in the middle of nowhere. Then it dawned on me that in wintertime, when the lake was frozen, this was a hockey arena. I rode through the small town of Shafer, population 1045. There were several bar & grills and a bike shop which didn’t appear to be open. Starting with the lovely town welcome sign, I noticed barn quilt paintings throughout town.
The wind today was coming out of the north, and it was rather strong. I was unfortunately stair-stepping north and west. I was headed north on County Road 9 and the headwinds got pretty fierce. The sun was strong through the puffy clouds, but the cool air was was blowing on me. I kept my sweater on but my back was hot. It was one of those imperfect situations where I couldn't get my temperature just right. I pulled out my iPod and put on WFMU's Shiela B. I ducked down low on my handlebars and cranked my pedals on the shoulder.
I rode into the historic village of Sunrise, population 78. Sunrise was the hometown of Hollywood legend Richard Widmark, whom I'd never heard of. There was a rafting business here and I remembered stopping last year for something to drink. Unfortunately the cafe was closed this time.
I remembered the town of Harris from last year. I had needed to mail something from the post office, and had gotten confused about which side of the train track was which. This year I stopped at the Harris 61 stop, an Arco station. I bought two bottles of red Gatorade and a bag of trail mix. A mile out of town I crossed over I-35. I rode alongside Fish Lake on my way into Stark, population 50. I took a left onto County Road 63 where I came to a Road Closed Ahead sign. There were other signs saying that construction was beginning June 23, and I proceeded ahead anyway.
I always get nervous when I come to an active construction site. In this case I might have had to backtrack and circle many miles back around. They were putting in a new culvert and there was a deep ditch cut all the way across where the road had been. The workers let me walk my bike around the ditch, right up against the power shovel. I thanked the foreman, and he asked if there were other cyclists behind me. "No Sir. Not to my knowledge".
I was seeing the Minnesota sideway-swinging mailboxes that I remembered from last year. They’re obviously a defense strategy against snow plows during the snowy winter. I pulled over at a picnic table in Gandy to attend a work meeting on Zoom. After about 30 minutes I turned on my profile picture and hopped back on my bike. I listened to the rest of the meeting while pedaling. Right outside of Springvale I got chased by a little dog that ran out onto the roadway. I wasn’t too concerned until I saw a large Doberman Pincher also coming my way. Fortunately he stopped at the edge of the road, and didn’t pursue me.
In Dalbo, the Dusty Eagle bar and grill was open. I stopped to find out how late they served food. 9 o’clock - Perfect! I pedaled up the road to the infamous Bicycle Bunkhouse. Oh yeah! Donn and Sherry were mowing their lawn as I pulled in. I hadn't gotten to meet them last year. I was excited to see the 2019 picture board, where I was joined with Chris, Brian, Andre, and Colleen. Donn took my photo for the 2020 wall. Very few cyclists had been through this year. We talked a bit, and then I set up all of my camping equipment on the upper level to dry. It started to rain, and I was desperate for food and beer. I put on my rain jacket and rode to the Dusty Eagle.
I was wet and underdressed, and I was worried that there would be air conditioning at the bar, and there was. There was also a kids birthday party, and they were noisy. I ordered the Dalbo burger and numerous mugs of Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy. I finally got so chilly that I moved out to the back porch, where it had stopped raining. I ordered nachos and a few more beers. It was chilly outside, and the rowdy kids joined me on the porch. I ordered a few bottles of Stella to take back to the bunkhouse, where I ate chips and finished this report.
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