Fine start, damp finish

September 14, 2023

Day 08: Hackensack to Bemidji

WE BEGIN RIDING TODAY in fine, clear, though cool conditions. There's a modest southerly breeze to push us farther up the Paul Bunyan Trail. By the end of today's ride we'll have covered nearly the entire thing.

We depart the resort as a group, riding fairly cautiously and gingerly out the mile and a half or so of hard-packed unpaved road to the highway. The highway is a marked contrast: it's been repaved so recently that the striping crew has yet to come along and do their thing.

There's enough breeze on the lake to stir up some chop, and generate a bit of foam.

There he is again. I still won't catch him but after a while he'll tire of the game and disappear. No staying power, apparently.

Rejoining the Paul Bunyan Trail, we skate along easily. Nobody's in a real hurry despite the forecast of rain late in the afternoon; if the prognostication is anywhere near correct and accurate we should all be warm and dry in our hotel by the time it arrives.

Who wouldn't want to stay at this place?

As a rail trail, there's a sameness to the adjacent scenery. We still enjoy seeing the lakes, sloughs, wetlands, and trailside trees but they're pretty much the same as we've been seeing so not many photos get taken.

There is a stretch where we leave the rail trail in favor of an alternate route that climbs and dives and twists and turns considerably more than the main line trail. In one downhill corner a patch of sand has accumulated, so I stop and position myself to be able to warn those behind me. I don't want to be witness to any more road accidents if I can possibly help prevent them. The break affords an opportunity for a few more action shots.

Not a sign we've been seeing much of, so far. We'll see it several times today.

There's even a point where a sign alerts trail users that some people may find the next 6.5 miles challenging. Indeed, there are a few short grades where a bit of extra "grunt" is warranted, but nothing we can't handle comfortably.

Just under 20 miles in we reach the designated SAG/rest stop and the group re-collects. We enjoy several minutes of downtime and some snacks, then it's off once again. Our next stop will be 20 miles farther along, just off the trail at a place in LaPorte that A D has identified as a likely candidate for a lunch break.

So @Kelly Iniguez, I tried this configuration today but ultimately went back to the front position. The hook that secures the bottom of the pannier to the rack is really really close to (like just a couple millimeters away from) the brake disc. Plus, I'm so inelastic that I have a hard time getting my leg over the pannier and rack cleanly when the bags are back there.

We make it to lunch without mishap or incident, and the weather still looks good although a faint haze of cloud has begun to show, off to the west.

The trail maintenance authorities have kindly marked a few of the more egregious surface imperfections, which John dubs "launchers".

At lunch we find that there's only one person acting as bartender, order taker, and server for the entire restaurant; apparently the other person on shift has been called away unexpectedly, leaving him holding the bag.

The service is correspondingly slow but he struggles valiantly to do his best, which we appreciate.

We also hear from our COVID-afflicted companion, who left the group yesterday morning after testing positive. He announces that he's unlikely to be able to rejoin us early next week as he had hoped. That may still change but if not we'll miss you, friend.

While we wait for our food, Joe has been walking around and is in conversation with one of the others. He's talking about an experience he had where he was in some sort of training, and not getting on especially well with the instructor. "Apparently I wasn't one of his favorite people." he says.

Carol, his wife, is sitting next to me and murmurs sotto voce "Nothing new there." I manage to not spray my mouthful of soda across the table in reaction, but it's a close thing.

Emerging from lunch we find the skies considerably changed. Where all was sunny when we went in an hour earlier, it's now overcast and threatening to rain sooner than predicted.

Anxious to avoid a wetting if possible, several of us band together, put our heads down, and roll up the trail making as good a time as we can sustain. We each vow not to stop for photos unless there's something especially striking and camera-worthy.

There isn't really much to point our lenses at so we keep trundling along. Rose and I stop briefly to switch empty water bottles to full ones. There's a sign I find vaguely amusing, so I haul out the camera for my final snap of the day's ride.

I guess everyone gets buried somewhere else, if there's nary a cemetery in this direction.

Later, I engage John in a bit of silly banter. I assert that Minnesota and Montana really ought to be considered as one-and-the-same. I base my claim on the fact that the two names begin and end with the same letters, and each is known for bitterly cold, long, harsh winters. John's rebuttal is succinct and betrays his profession in the woodwork and millwork industry: "Different trees."

Our diligence in trying to get in ahead of the rain is ultimately unsuccessful. Seven or so miles before the end it begins to sprinkle and eventually works its way to a stead drizzle. My companions stop to don their rain jackets but I adopt a different strategy: ride harder to stay warm, damn the torpedoes, and full speed ahead. I reason that if it doesn't rain any harder than it is now I'll be moist, but not really wringing wet, upon arrival.

That's how it turns out. Pulling up to the portico of the hotel I find Nettie on station with a bundle of towels. They're not for the riders, they're for the bikes. The hotel has allowed us to park them in the conference room for the evening, and in a gesture of politeness Nettie's thought to ask for a collection of wipe-down rags so we won't trash the carpet.

This awesome sunset photo was brought to you courtesy of Nettie.

It's a good opportunity to do laundry again this evening, so that's how I pass the time before bed. Exciting times, no?

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Today's ride: 58 miles (93 km)
Total: 352 miles (566 km)

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Gretchen CarlsonWhew! No accidents.
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1 year ago

Keith AdamsTo Gretchen CarlsonYay!
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1 year ago

Ben ParkeI rode the Paul Bunyan trail a couple years ago. The cracks are not pleasant. Thank goodness for a helmet or I would have had a concussion riding a recumbent without suspension on that trail. In the winter they allow snowmobiles and I Susie t that’s quite hard on the trail surface. I don’t plan to ride there a second time. The lake wobegon trail is befalling a similar fate except with large tufts of grass in the cracks.
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10 months ago

Keith AdamsTo Ben ParkeThat's an issue on many of the trails we used. I was blaming tree roots growing under and heaving the asphalt.

Joints between segments of a concrete road on Day 2 made for ten or more miles of very unpleasant riding as well.
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10 months ago

Ben ParkeTo Keith AdamsIn the case of the rail trails, it’s mainly heavy snowmobiles, some of which are probably not following trail rules about how to equip their snowmobiles. The rest is the horrible freeze/thaw cycles Minnesota experiences. Our weather is terrible for our roads and trails. It doesn’t help when trail cracks don’t get filled. Then water gets in there, freezes, and leads to even more heaving. It’s a real shame because ewe do have an awful lot of miles of rail trails. Sadly most of those miles are in such poor condition, they are no longer pleasant to ride.
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10 months ago