The Great Gregsby

August 13, 2022

St. Paul, Minnesota

My intent was to begin this mini-tour three days ago. The reason that didn't happen is because of a medical emergency. On the day before I was to leave, I noticed a red blotch on my dog's back. I separated his fur and discovered a hideous, bleeding sore. I called the vet's office immediately for an appointment, but nothing was available until the next day.

The Feeshko and I took Diggity to the appointment together. The vet examined the sore and diagnosed it using big medical words, which he translated into "a skin condition that had become badly infected." He assured us that it wasn't our worst fear--cancer--and he prescribed an ointment, some anti-biotics, and an over the counter anti-itch medication. I delayed my trip two more days to help nurse Diggity back to good health.

Now for today's news:

My mini-tour got off to an inauspicious start. I had prepped my roadie bike a few days ago. The prep involved nothing more than attaching a rear rack, lubricating the chain, and pumping the tires to a speedy 100 p.s.i.

This morning, I realized I had forgotten to change the pedals. I normally use that bike for day rides with SPD pedals and shoes. My touring bikes, on the other hand, are equipped with flat pedals. While touring, I don't like clop-clop-clop-clopping my way through convenience stores or any other public places, and I don't like having to change shoes to take an impromptu hike. An extra pair of shoes also takes up valuable pannier space. Touring with one pair of hiking shoes takes care of all those problems.

I got right down to the task of changing the pedals. The left pedal came off easily. The right one was not so easy. I cranked & cranked, and tried every leverage trick I could think of, but it would not budge. It was seized beyond the capabilities of my pedal wrench and my tough-guy arm muscles. (And yes, I DO know that the pedals are threaded in opposite directions.) Finally, I surrendered.

If I only owned one bike, I'd have to choose between waiting (even longer than I've already been waiting to start this tour) for a bike shop (maybe even a machine shop) to remove the pedal, or riding with my clipless shoes and stuffing street shoes into my single pannier.

I didn't have to make either one of those irritating choices. I had The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong and Son of Bing Bong waiting in the garage. I just wanted to get this trip underway, so I chose Son of Bing Bong because it already had a rear rack on it. It took about 20 seconds to transfer my pannier onto Son of Bing Bong, and another 30 seconds to congratulate myself on my fine choices while under serious pressure.

The only drawback for me is having nine more pounds of bicycle to pedal and having to explain how that extra nine pounds contradicts my ultra-minimalist bragging. It's embarrassing, but don't worry about me--I can handle it.

"At least I'm finally on the road, ultra-minimal or not," I rejoiced inside my head once I started riding, "nothing can go wrong now." I was right, nothing DID go wrong.

Before I get off the topics of bikes, gear and ultra-minimalism, I might as well fess up to a couple more changes and additions I've made in the past four days. I've added a long-sleeved shirt, the charger for my phone, sunglasses, an energy bar, pen & notebook, sunglasses, a bandana, a 50-dollar bill for emergency cash, and a zip-lock bag. Also, I decided to wear my bright orange t-shirt instead of my Caribou Coffee jersey. There's some kind of saying about never poking a jealous bike tourist. [Inside joke]

************

Nothing interesting happened on the ride to St. Paul. I took a couple of pictures along the way, but I'm not going to post them. They seemed pretty insignificant compared to the huge number of high-quality photos I took inside the city.

I just came up with a cool idea for those high-quality photos. Rather than display them in chronological order, I'm going to arrange them into four categories. Here we go!

Introduction to St. Paul

This was on the outskirts of St. Paul, but I'm going to post it anyway because my obnoxious cartoon alter-ego insisted on at least one picture that featured his smiling face.

I thought this photo was nothing short of magnificent. It had the Mississippi River, the railroads, the bike trail, and the St. Paul skyline. Good job, me!

ME and a colorful seal. I like making new friends.

A nice St. Paul campground. I KNEW I should have brought my tent along on this trip. (I took this picture on the fly, thinking I'd be inconspicuous. The gals in the foreground noticed me though. They waved and shouted out, "Hi!" I responded with an equally enthusiastic "HI!")

Not exactly stealth camping, but a nice bicycle camping option. Why, oh why, didn't I bring my tent?

If the great Gump Worsley was still playing professional hockey in Minnesota, and getting teeth knocked out as a goalie who refused to wear a mask, this is where he'd be doing it.

Still way too early for check in, but the Holiday Inn will be my home for tonight. I hope my room has a view of the St. Paul Cathedral.

St. Paul Art-itecture

You want art? St. Paul has art. Perhaps the city's greatest work of man-made art is the St. Paul Cathedral. I know you saw it in the last picture, but I thought it deserved a picture of its own. I kind of wish my Church of the Great Outdoors had such a beautiful building. Oh well, I guess I'll settle for beautiful outdoor landscapes in which to worship.

From the grounds of the cathedral, you can see the Minnesota state capitol building--another fine work of architectural art.

The Landmark Center is a nice piece of art-itecture too.

The F. Scott Fitzgerald District

I'd have to say my main objective for the first day of this mini-tour was to visit the haunts of one of Minnesota's greatest artists. Literature is certainly an art, and Fitzgerald plied that art BIG TIME. The Great Gatsby is one of the finest American novels of all time. I've read it three times and will probably read it again someday.

In my opinion, only Bob Dylan exceeds him when it comes to Minnesota artistry. I'd visit Bob's historic landmarks on this mini-tour if they weren't a couple hundred miles to the north.

On last year's bike tour, I visited some Ernest Hemingway sites in Ketchum, Idaho. It seems most appropriate that this year I should visit some sites of his friend, fellow expatriate, and literary counterpart.

Fitzgerald did a lot of drinking and partying at the exclusive "Vniversity Clvb, St. Pavl."

Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald were living at the Commodore Hotel when their baby girl, Scotty, was born. Now it appears to be an apartment building.

I've been to this rowhouse before. It's the most famous Fitzgerald residence. He wrote "This Side of Paradise" here. (This group of Segway riders on a guided tour kind of detracted from my appreciation of the place.)

This building is where F. Scott Fitzgerald was born.

On the left is F. Scott Fitgerald--great American novelist. On the right is G. Scott Garceau--average bike touring journalist.

The Fitzgerald Theater in downtown St. Paul was named for my pal, Fitz. It was the long time home of "The Prairie Home Companion" until Garrison Keillor fell into disfavor.

Summit Avenue

F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote, "Summit Avenue is a mausoleum of American architectural monstrosities." The next few pictures will demonstrate what he was talking about.

Who would want to live in monstrosities like these?

A monstrosity with a political statement in the yard

Well, you get the idea. There are literally hundreds of those architectural monstrosities on Summit Avenue. I couldn't wait to escape them and get to the Holiday Inn to relax.

Today's ride: 35 miles (56 km)
Total: 234 miles (377 km)

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Keith KleinHi,
Is the Saint Paul Bicycle Racing Club still going? I used to see them on Summit from time.
Cheers,
Keith
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2 years ago

Keith KleinHi again,
My favorite Summit avenue story involves taking a tour of the Macalester College president’s house with my friend Tony Flygar counting toilets. While I don’t know the exact number, I do know it was double digits. That’s more toilets than required, even for a college president. I used to think about that every time I rode past. Now you will too.
Cheers,
Keith
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2 years ago

Gregory GarceauTo Keith KleinThank goodness I received your message in time to take a picture, and maybe include your bathroom anecdote in today's post. As to the bike club, I don't know the answer.
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2 years ago

Lednar De NallohI'm really enjoying this Journal and leaving far too many comments ha ha. I admire your courage ,confessing you couldn't remove the pedal, of course everyone reading this thinks 'I could have done it' (like the proverbial jam jar lid) they do say 'confession is good for the soul'.
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2 years ago

Gregory GarceauTo Lednar De NallohI appreciate every one of those comments, Led. So far, I've been able to open every pickle and jam jar I've ever attempted, but, damn, that pedal was unbelievable.
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2 years ago