September 9, 2023
Short and quick
Day 3: Spicer to Cold Spring
THERE'S RAIN in the forecast for today. At yesterday's rider meeting the group elected to make an early start, taking advantage of the combination of a short route and the fact that the rain's not expected until 1 p.m. or later.
My roomie and I are up at 5:30 (his phone alarm played the theme from Close Encounters of the Third Kind and flashed the strobe for added effect) and I'm dressed and packed by a bit after 6. Since the van's not going to be open for luggage until after 7, I've got plenty of time to sit in the common area of the lobby and enjoy a couple cups of coffee with the other early risers in the group.
Gradually everyone emerges from their respective hidey-holes. Nettie makes an appearance, smiling and chipper as ever despite yesterday's mishap. She's sporting a brace very similar to a carpal tunnel support, since there are two broken metacarpals on one hand. She also shows us the hematoma on one leg; it's still considerable but far diminished from where it was yesterday. Still, she's going to follow professional medical advice and take it easy today.
We get the luggage into the van and the group sets off. Everyone else stops within a half mile from breakfast at the local cafe in Spicer but, worried about the possible rain, I decide to press on and save the time. So, for the second day running, I'm riding alone.
It's fairly early (well before 8:00) on a Saturday morning. Our route today follows the Glacial Ridge Trail for many miles, then switches to another trail after an interlude in town and on a beautifully-repaved county highway.
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1 year ago
Given the hour there are very few people up and about, so I have long stretches of solitude. At one point where there is someone else stirring I pause to converse; his bike's parked on one side of the trail and he's on the other, scanning the trees with a set of binoculars.
"Whatcha got?" I ask as I pull up and stop. "Oh, a variety. Mostly warblers, but a few others as well." His accent's definitely not the classic nasal Minnesota twang, which is explained when he volunteers "I'm Danish. I love seeing all the birds that are new to me."
Together we watch a pileated woodpecker that's alighted momentarily in the top of a dead snag on the far side of the small bit of wetland in front of us. When it flies off- once again before I can get the camera out and get a shot off, darn it- I move on as well.
A pair of women are walking the trail, keeping loose tabs on the five unleashed dogs they have with them. They apologize but I assure them it's no problem: the dogs are all very well-behaved and mostly pay me no mind.
A few cyclists pass by, bound in the opposite direction to me.
A trio of well-toned, fit women out for a jog greet me, as do all the other trail users I encounter. It's a congenial community, apparently.
I'm making good time, maintaining a pace somewhat more "spirited" than usual for me thanks to the easy terrain and the absolutely dead calm air, and motivated by the slowly-thickening cloud cover overhead. It's not quite 60 degrees, so I'm glad I've got my arm warmers on, but it's easy to keep warm by riding relatively vigorously.
For a couple miles, the trail's officially closed due to several areas where the pavement's been pulled up as part of a large construction project on MN 23, 100 yards to my right. At each cross street, the intersection between trail and road has been stripped to bare dirt. New curbs, with cycle-friendly curb cuts and ramps, have been installed but the dirt itself is only loosely packed so it's best to dismount and walk aross rather than risk a front wheel washout that would surely lead to a fall.
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Since I'm well ahead of the group I text the vital information back to them, letting them know that for the most part the construction sections are passable, and that at one point they'll need to divert onto the adjacent highway for a half mile or less before returning to the trail.
Reaching Paynesville, just about at the halfway point, I text Carol just so she knows all is well, then press on once again. There are a couple minor changes to the cue sheet needed when I pass through town, so I text those back to the group as well.
I've been watching the Estimated Time at Destination on my GPS, seeing it creep gradually later and later despite my pace. That's all the motivation I need to keep going and stay focused; I vow to arrive before 10:45 despite the near-certainty that I won't be able to check in right away. That's okay: I'd far rather sit in the hotel lobby dry and warm, than deal with rain of any temperature while I'm still riding.
There comes a stretch of several miles that are a sheer delight. The road's been recently repaved with nice smooth asphalt and there's almost no traffic. It's also flat so Serenity sails easily along.
When this road ends it's time to get onto the final trail of the day, the Rocori Trail (I keep calling it the Rococo Trail in my head) which will take me all the way into Cold Spring. Right at the trail start, Carol and Nettie are waiting with the van. We chat for a moment ("I'm great, thanks. No need of snacks or water.") and I'm off for the final miles.
They fly by and I'm at the hotel by 10:35- ten minutes sooner than my targeted arrive-by time. Woo hoo!
The fresh-faced young woman at the desk informs me that although my room won't be ready for an hour or so- it was only just vacated by the previous occupants, apparently- I'm welcome to make myself at home in the comfortable wingback arm chairs in the lobby. Slightly chilled with sweat I inquire as to the possibility of coffee. "There's a fresh pot right around the corner. Help yourself." comes the welcome reply.
After some time, I venture out to explore the town. The business district is apparently about two blocks by two blocks, so my journey of exploration ends almost as soon as it's begun but by the time I arrive back at the hotel Carol and Nettie have arrived.
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We unload the luggage from the van, and I check in. After I've had a pleasant shower and done a bit of housekeeping, Carol calls to let me know there's a lunch expedition about to depart, and asks if I 'm interested. Yes, please!
We find our way to a bar/cafe two blocks away, enjoy a wonderful lunch (and a few adult beverages), and return to the hotel. It's not yet 3:00, leaving me plenty of time to write, manage photos, and perform similar tasks.
Today's ride: 37 miles (60 km)
Total: 149 miles (240 km)
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1 year ago
Thanks! We went by the BoHo (Art in Motion) today (Sunday the 10th) but alas, rode past without going in. I hate that I sometime miss opporunities becase of lack of knowledge, or because of competing priorities. Today was the latter case: we needed to get to our rest stop, where two of our friends had been waiting patiently for us to arrive, for quite some time.
1 year ago