Day 4: Thunderstorms, bacon on a doughnut and misery
Route: Lake City to Minneapolis
Distance: 79 miles
First it was trucks. Then it was cars. At some point on Day 4 of this trip I became aware that the constant soundtrack of the past two days had been nothing but the whoosh of vehicles rushing past.
The traffic had begun the moment I crossed over into Minnesota the day before and started following what is invitingly called the Mississippi River Trail. I’d noticed these blue and green signs for years all along the river in northern Minnesota. The 3,000-mile bicycle route runs from the headwaters of the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico through 10 states.
Early in my bike ride, I had come across a note written on the wall of a tunnel by another bike tourist who was planning on following the Mississippi River all the way to New Orleans.
I had begun to wonder if maybe I should consider planning a similar route some day. But after two days of hugging the shoulder of Highway 61 and being buffeted by gusts of wind from passing trucks, I began to question the idea of riding on paved roads at all when there are so many other ways to explore the world on a bicycle.
But it’s hard to distinguish between fatigue and reality sometimes.
I had left that morning from my fancy hotel suite with its view of Lake Pepin feeling pretty good. The sunrise blazed through heavy clouds above the ridges across the river. The weather was a little cooler, though humid.
About a half hour outside of town, a group of riders came up from behind me and I joined them. I used the energy of the pack to move at a much faster pace, though not one that put me in any discomfort. The riders were all EMS workers who had started their trip in Chicago and were traveling to Minneapolis to pay tribute to EMS workers who had died, many in the line of duty. They were all riding lighter road bikes and had a van following them on their trip carrying their gear. The next day I’d meet another group of people doing a similar kind of tribute ride, though they were riding across the entire country to raise awareness about, well, to be honest, I can’t remember what.
The trip from Lake City to Red Wing, Minnesota, went by quickly thanks to the company. But as I arrived in town, I could tell I just was not feeling right. So far, mornings had been when I did my best riding and when I felt most optimistic about the trip.
That wasn’t the case today.
I rolled into downtown Red Wing, which is a place I’d passed through once before and thought would be fun to come back to and explore. I stopped at the Red Wing shoe factory where a guy offered to take my picture in front of the sign. I asked where to get a pastry in town and he told to try Hanisch Bakery. He said it has been rated the best bakery in the state.
“You can try it and decide for yourself,” he said.
I don’t normally eat sweet things in the morning (though I love them in the middle of the night), but the maple bacon doughnut I had in Red Wing may have saved me. I was feeling like my tank was empty. I really wasn’t even hungry as I forced myself to eat that doughnut as I sat on the bench in front of the bakery.
It was a fantastic donut. I wish I had one right now.
But at the time, I mostly felt depleted, and, as I looked at my route options and the weather, I was not looking forward to the day. I forced myself onto my bike and looked for the MRT signs to steer me out of town, but as I got back on the path, I could see black clouds looming ahead of me. I checked the radar on my phone and could see a couple of waves of thunderstorms headed my way. I pulled in to the historic Red Wing train station and waited out the first storm.
The rest of that day’s ride was a slog. The Mississippi River Trail followed loud, busy roads for most of the journey up into Hastings and then over into the suburbs of the Twin Cities. The constant rumble of loud trucks was replaced by the hum of oversized SUVs.
In Hastings, I was feeling depleted. I went to a chain-owned sandwich shop (that’s not getting product placement from me) and forced down a sandwich. I ended up having to hide from another storm under an overpass in a town park. It actually proved to be the only peaceful moment of the day as I watched barn swallows and bluebirds swoop along the neighborhood creek.
After the rain cleared, I got back on the bike path. Turning a sharp corner, my front wheel slid out from under me, slamming me down onto the pavement. I wasn’t hurt. I was just pissed.
I remembered some advice from another cyclist about riding in metropolitan areas on bike tours: Don’t. He said that on his long-distance tours he has gotten into the habit of using mass transportation to bypass the suburbs, which, he said, are congested and unpleasant. I was torn by this advice since many cities have really invested in biking infrastructure and have become bike friendly. Minneapolis is at the top of this list. But despite plenty of bike lanes and safe shoulders,riding in the suburbs was tedious and stressful.
I also thought about another cycling option: gravel roads. I knew that the Red Wing area hosted a number of gravel road races and as I rode along, I saw many unpaved roads that looked inviting. Since I had not planned on coming this way, I didn’t have a map. My phone’s Google maps bike route option had proved an invaluable tool for me on the trip, suggesting roads that had low traffic volumes and good shoulders almost without fail. But Google’s programmers had apparently decided that gravel was not an option.
So, I stuck to the Mississippi River Trail signs. And I hated it.
I had had big plans for that day. I was going to attempt to ride from Lake City, through the Twin Cities and make it to the northwest suburbs. But as the day wore on, I made a decision. I Googled “Minneapolis youth hostels” and on a whim made a reservation at a place downtown. Then I put my head down and pedaled.
The hostel proved to be a fantastic option. The historic home was just a block from a part of Minneapolis called “Eat Street.” They let me put my bike in the spacious room. I took a hot, hot shower in a tub long enough to fit me and lay down on the comfortable, queen-sized bed. Within seconds I was asleep.
