August 15, 2024
Taking Dubuque By Surrender
A Ride Not Worth Remembering
Thunder and the pounding of rain awakened me at 1:00 a.m. I like thunderstorms so I got up and opened the curtains thinking I might see some lightning too. I didn't see lightning, but I saw the heavy rain the forecasters promised.
Without the excitement of electricity in the sky, I got bored quickly and decided to go back to bed. That's when I glanced at my bike and noticed something bad--my front tire was flat. "Son of a Franciscan nun," I cursed.
I don't know what possessed me to dig out my pump and try to refill my tire at one o'clock in the morning, but that's what I did. The result was almost unbelievable. No matter how fast I pumped air into the tire, the tire emptied itself just as quickly. "Oh well," I thought, "I'll fix it in the morning."
Things like that tend to nag at me. I could not go back to sleep. I turned on the TV and watched a couple episodes of "Seinfeld." Then I felt tired. I turned the TV off and rolled to my left side, which is my favorite sleeping position. Then my mind reverted back to the flat tire.
I got out of bed again, turned my bike upside down, and took the wheel off. By golly gosh, I was going to perform a goll dang tube replacement in my chicken plucking Super 8 Motel room at three-stinking-thirty in the a.-frickin-m.--just so I might be able to salvage a couple hours of sleep.
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I broke a sweat trying to break the seal on my tubeless-ready tire and then get it off the rim. (My tires are tubeless-ready, but I still use tubes.) It was hard work. That's okay, I rise to the challenge of hard work, no matter what time of day or night. I got the tire off, pulled out the tube, and examined it for a puncture hole. I was able to spot the little bugger quite easily.
Even after the tire repair I wasn't able to sleep. I guess I was still wound up from worrying about not getting enough sleep.
But I must admit that I was thankful for being able to conduct the operation in a dry motel room rather than out there in the heavy rain at a campsite.
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I got permission to leave my car in the Super 8 parking lot for the next three nights, which was nice. Not so nice was that the rain showed no signs of letting up. I couldn't wait anymore, so I pedaled into the rain.
I vowed to dig my phone out for ONLY the most significant pictures. Well, a significant photo-op arrived all too quickly.
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I've known about Dubuque County's Heritage Rail Trail for a few years. My brother ran a marathon on its convenient 26-mile length. He's run more than a hundred marathons, and yesterday he told me the Heritage Trail run was one of his favorites. Thanks to that endorsement, I had increased excitement to ride the trail all the way from Dyersville to Dubuque today. The rain could go to hell as far as I was concerned.
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3 months ago
It was a gloomy day. While riding the trail, the precipitation alternated between light drizzle, medium drizzle, heavy drizzle, mild rain, and drenching rain. The rain did stop a couple times, yet I KNEW it would be back. And I was right.
Next comes a picture of a cornfield. It reminded me of something my dad said yesterday on the way to his eyeball shot. "How do they get all of those cornstalks to grow to exactly the same height?" he asked. I certainly couldn't come up with a good answer. Maybe it's some kind of advanced alien agricultural knowledge.
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3 months ago
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I was determined to push on, no matter what conditions I faced. At the Farley station I would assess the situation and determine whether to continue on the trail or to abandon it and ride the county highways to Dubuque.
It was still raining when I got to the Farley station and my bike was a mess. It was an easy decision to continue my ride on pavement. I began by riding about a mile off-route to the actual town of Farley for a snack and to see how much it has changed since the 1970's. I can now report that, like Dyersville, it has grown and changed A LOT.
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Just outside of Farley, the heavy rains returned. It made for some pretty miserable cycling. After a mile of that punishment, I came to the conclusion that I needed to make another decision about my ride. I figured I had three options: 1) Find the nearest shelter and wait there until the rain let up--which might not be until tomorrow. 2) Continue cycling in this crap for another 25 miles to downtown Dubuque. 3) Ride the paved road that parallels the bike trail for seven miles back to Dyersville.
Thinking one hour of suffering would be better than three hours of suffering, I chose option #3. Plus, my car was in Dyersville. I could just drive to Dubuque from there. That way I would be dry, and I could still keep the hotel reservation that was now too late to cancel.
It was psychologically painful to take the easy way out of this mess, but that was easily overcome by the physical comfort.
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I drove the roads I would have been cycling instead of taking the more direct four-lane highway. I wanted to see what I'd be missing. It seems wrong to post pictures from an automobile ride, but I'm going to use the lame justification that I'm providing a public service for other bike tourists interested in the route--bike tourists who won't wimp out like I did.
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I know you were probably worried about me driving a car, but I safely made it to Dubuque. Sure enough, the rain had reduced itself to a light mist. In an effort to redeem myself, I got my bike out of the car and explored the city for the next two hours. I'll show the results of my exploration in a separate post. I'm too tired to write anymore today.
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For reasons that will be revealed later, it looks like I will have to wait until you get to Minneapolis for an actual meet-up.
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I especially love "The Three Amigos" because my son and I watched it together on video cassette many times within a couple of months. We both had many of the scenes memorized back then, and to this day, we still quote them when we talk.
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