We get spoiled so quickly. We've had such fine weather the last few days, so it is a shock to look out the motel window this morning and see that it is solidly overcast and raining steadily. Checking the forecast, we are relieved to see that it was a short term disturbance that should clear up in a few hours. After that it looks like the rest of the day should be fine, as well as the winds - it looks like we can expect to be blown downriver for a second straight day.
It is a pretty short ride down to Wabasha, and we have been thinking of how to lengthen it somewhere. While I sit around drinking coffee and catching up on the journal, I read up on the large bluff at the south end of Red Wing Bay and learn that it is Barn Bluff, and that it has a good walking path to the top with great views from its summit. This sounds perfect - we decide to begin the day with a short hike and then bike the direct route to Wabasha.
The rain continues steadily for about two hours, and then abruptly stops and the sky quickly clears. We leave the motel about ten and head for the trailhead on the east end of the bluff.
Loading a barge at the Red Wing Grain terminal. I was glad to see this activity, because I've been wondering what the cargo was in these covered barges. From here the grain is barged downriver to New Orleans, for shipment overseas.
Barn Bluff was previously named Mount Grange, by the French, because it resembled a barn to them. It doesn't look much like a barn to me now, but in a photo of it from the 1860's it's easier to see. Since then, a significant chunk of it was removed through limestone quarrying and then to make way for Highway 61 and the Eisenhower Bridge.
It's still an impressive bluff though, and a fine short hike. We stashed our bikes out of sight behind an abandoned building and walked up the relocated remains of the Kiwanis Stairway (the original Stairway was blasted away to make room for the new bridge), and after a short climb through the woods entered a large clearing that covers the south face of the formation. This is an instance of 'bluff prairie', a new ecosystem to me. These are isolated remnants of original prairie that have been preserved due to their inaccessibility. There are a number of these scattered throughout the region, and are an important subject of habitat preservation.
The summit is about what you would expect - great views downriver from the east end of the bluff, and great views upriver and across Red Wing from the west end. Well worth the walk.
Barn Bluff, seen from its south side. The trail to the summit starts at the far right (east) end and angles up the south face.
A section of the Kiwanis Stairway on the path up Barn Bluff. These steps date back to 1929, when the Kiwanis Club sponsored upgrading the existing trail. Each step bears the name of a sponsor of the project. Most of the original staircase was eliminated by the construction of the Eisenhower Bridge in 1959. Years later many of the original steps were relocated to a new access on the south side.
Rachael walks along the top of Barn Bluff. This picture is a good illustration of the ecosystem on these bluffs - the dry south face is bluff prairie, and the north face is oak savannah.
Down again, we returned to town to hit up a store for lunch materials and then set out for Wabasha. We're following the MRT (the Mississippi River Trail), which today mostly means a spell on Highway 61 again, still with a great shoulder and still with a great tailwind. Much like much of yesterday.
I was amazed when I discovered what this fine old Romanesque building was - it is Minnesota's Red Wing youth corrections facility. It was built in 1889 and designed by architect Warren Dunnell, who also designed a number of other important Minnesota public buildings.
After about eight miles we reach the western end of Frontenac State Park, and leave the highway for a minor access road to the park. We're ready for lunch, and I'd assumed that we'd find a spot as soon as we reached the park - but no. The park begins at this unpaved road, and is completely undeveloped woodland - no place to stop and eat unless we want to crowd into the underbrush with the ticks. The other side of the road is all privately owned. It's a beautiful ride though, and we manage to ignore our appetites until arriving at the main entrance to the park. We sit on the grass in the shade, enjoying our lunch and a nice overlook of the valley.
Most of the park is another massive bluff, like Barn Bluff in Red Wing but without a bridge and city hanging off its slopes. We bike up to the top of the bluff, across the now familiar bluff prairie, and then along the crest of the ridge to its few spectacular viewpoints. Few, because the northern slope is covered with dense oak forest with very few clearings. It's a lot like going up to Barn Bluff, but with bicycles.
Afterwards, we coast back down and make a loop through Fontenac, which on the map looks like a small town but has no real there there, other than some fine large estates. It is apparently a historic district, but we're a bit antsy to make some miles so we don't slow down and look around. Next time, in the fall when the leaves are turning - it will be glorious.
On Hill Avenue, the unpaved back door access to Frontenac State Park. It's an odd road - the left is public park land, and the right is privately owned. None of this stretch of the park is at all developed, and the properties on the right were all protected by no trespassing signs. We biked the entire four mile road hoping we'd come to a good place to stop for lunch but didn't find one until we reached the main entrance.
We're back on the MRT and Highway 61 again, and will be all the way until Wabasha. Same old road, but the contour is different - it's a flattish roller coaster, with an endless series of small rises and dips, fluttering south between 700' and 800' elevation.
The exception is Lake City, where the MRT leaves the highway to follow the riverside for a few miles. I had barely noticed that Lake City was on our route, but it was a surprisingly attractive and interesting detour. First, it was interesting to find out that Lake City is the birthplace of waterskiing. As exciting as that is though, the best reason to pass through Lake City is to stop in at the Lake Pepin Pearl Button Company and have one of their home made ice cream sandwiches. Amazing. Ordinary ice cream sandwiches are forever spoiled for me now.
The marina at Lake City. The town is named after Lake Pepin, a swelling in the Mississippi caused by the delta of the Chippewa.
The statue honors Ralph Samuelson, the Inventor of water skiing. He first performed it here at Lake City in 1922. The tree is a white lilac, a variety I don't remember seeing before this trip. It is very common here, and is frequently seen on parking strips. According to Tony (our host in Saint Paul), this is because the trees don't grow very tall so they don't encroach on power lines.
The Lake Pepin Pearl Button Company, now home to an eclectic antique and gift shop. Lake Pepin is a long, wide bulge in the Mississippi, caused by the partial damming of the river by the delta of the Chippewa River near Wabasha. We'll be riding alongside Lake Pepin for the rest of the day.
Other than the building itself, this is the finest thing about the Lake Pepin Pearl Button Company - home made ice cream sandwiches! We both thought these were far and away the best ice cream sandwiches ever.
I really like Wabasha. It really fits my image of a midwestern town, with its well preserved vintage brick storefronts and quiet streets. It looks a lot like Hastings did yesterday. It was great to stroll along the streets on the way to dinner, and even greater to head down to the river again at sundown. Spectacular.
Main Street, Wabasha. Now this is my idea of what a small Midwest town should look like.
A statue of Wapahasha II (The Leaf), one of a series of three Dakota chieftains the town is named for. The statue was sculpted by JoAnne Bird, a Wapahasha descendant.
The Wabasha-Nelson Bridge, which we'll bike across tomorrow morning. The truss section was constructed atop a pair of barges and then barged to its final destination, where it arrived slightly above bridge level. It was then dropped into position by flooding the barges. The whole operation took only eight hours.
Sunset on the Mississippi, Wabasha. The smoke is from an approaching huge barge train, still masked by the hills on the Wisconsin side. I came back from this short walk with my imagination sparked, thinking of how fine it would be to continue biking south on the river, maybe all the way to the Gulf.
