black hawk bridge, detour/bridge out, easy street

July 21, 2020

Day Eight: Lansing to La Crosse

Considering the noise, I slept amazingly well. The merrimakers sat around a campfire and I found that each time I woke up, which was for fifteen to twenty seconds every hour or so, there were successively fewer people. At around 3:00 the last holdouts finally went radio silent.

I went through my, by now, normal routine of eating, packing things up, then loading the bike. As I was gathering things in my tent I found the Benadryl next to my sleeping bag. It’s so humid that when I picked it up it turned to powder.

As I was strapping everything down on the bike I saw Bucky crawl out of his tent and head to the shower. He nodded a hello from a distance, and didn’t look nearly as chipper as he did last night. I suspect it had to do with his blood alcohol level at the time he achieved unconsciousness.

Once loaded, I rode back into Lansing then briefly turned north until I arrived at the Black Hawk bridge, a cantilever truss bridge which was dedicated in 1929. Current plans call for it to be demolished in 2023 in order to make way for a newer bridge. It crosses the Mississippi on the Iowa side then continues over expansive flood plains on the Wisconsin side.

The surface of Black Hawk Bridge is a narrow metal grate with no shoulder, which was cool because I could see through it all the way down to the water. Because of its narrowness and lack of a shoulder I didn’t feel comfortable stopping on the bridge itself for a picture; however, I did get the obligatory pictures with my bike next to the Welcome to Iowa and Welcome to Wisconsin state signs.

Today is my last day of riding, and the weather couldn’t be more ideal. The high was 75F/23.8C and, with the exception of the section when I was crossing the Mississippi, I had a 10-12 mph tailwind and no climbing the entire day. It was the most pleasant riding of the entire trip, and the perfect way to end my tour. I didn’t feel like I was exerting myself much so I didn’t stop to eat my hourly protein bar until two hours into the ride.

Shortly after arriving at a scenic overlook rest stop for my first break of the day, a truck pulled in and the occupants unloaded three lawn tractors from the trailer and started mowing all around me. The rest area was nice, but the noise became intolerable so I didn’t stay long.

the mississippi river in the background and a field of lotus plants in the middle ground

At Genoa, just beyond Lock and Dam No. 8, there was a detour sign, and I just rode past it like I almost always do. As usual, I had the road completely to myself. It was a pleasant six miles, and continued almost the way to Stoddard. At the end of the closed-off section there was a sign that said “Bridge Out,” but again I just pedaled past it, thinking “How deep or wide could a creek from these small valleys be?” and also, "Did I remember to pack my Evel Knievel parachute?" The construction zone was eerily empty considering it was a late Tuesday morning. When I got to the bridge, I found that "out" didn't mean “out of action," but "out of town." It appeared to have been taken to a different location because there was nothing in its place, just a bunch of scattered heavy machinery amid a lot of mud. Lots and lots and LOTS of very deep mud. If I wanted to cross here I'd need to walk through sucking mud halfway up my calves while carrying a hundred pounds of bike plus gear.

My first thought was that I was going to have to ride the entire way back to Genoa, which would've been against a headwind, but after checking google maps I found that I only needed to backtrack about 500 feet. Even then, though, I didn’t follow the detour signs because they would’ve added several miles on busier roads, and instead picked my way back to the route on my own terms.

I saw a lot of flowers during this trip, but waited until today to take pictures of them. Okay, Bill, you're up....

Traffic became heavier as I neared La Crosse, which has more than 50,000 people, and I felt myself white-knuckling the handlebars as my senses went back on high alert. There’s never a relaxing moment going through most larger towns, and this was no exception. I followed the ACA route for several turns, then switched over to google maps when it was time to veer off to the rental car agency at the airport on French Island.

There was a particularly beautiful part of town which had massive, stately homes, all of which appeared to be more than a hundred years old and fully renovated to their original (or better) condition. These streets were lined with tall, statuesque trees which reached overhead to create a canopy.

It was nearing 1:30 and all I’d had to eat was breakfast at 7:30 and a single protein bar, but I felt an urgency to get to the airport. Instead of doing the sensible thing and stopping for a meal I continued pushing onward, so by the time I arrived I was pretty hungry.

The end of a trip is always anticlimactic. You just roll up to your destination and you’re done. If you happen to remember, you take a few final pictures, but nothing dramatic happens. You’re just…. finished, then you set yourself to the task of getting home.

In my case, that entailed renting and loading the SUV, a Ford Flex. The airport groundskeeper, a jolly man of about 60, came over while I was putting things into the SUV and asked me the Usual Questions. “No WAY could I ever do that!!!! I couldn't even ride around the block!!!” a common response, to which my common reply is some variation of, “I beg to differ.”

Once everything was loaded, I sat in the front seat with the AC blowing and gobbled down the last of my tortilla wraps, then started on my 3.5-hour drive home.

My first tour in twelve years.... it felt fantastic to be back on the road again, and I don't know why I waited so long. Hopefully, it won't take another laceration to get me going next time.

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distance 44.6 miles
elevation gain 915.9 feet
moving time 3:33:02
average speed 12.5 mph
total time 4:36:00
maximum speed 22.6 mph
calories 1690
average heart rate 96 bpm
max heart rate 127 bpm

Totals:
distance: 406 miles
elevation gain: 11,522 feet
moving time: 35 hours and 21 minutes

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If you're interested in seeing what the scar on my thigh looks like after almost three years, I posted a recent picture on the "those pictures I warned you about" page.

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Today's ride: 45 miles (72 km)
Total: 406 miles (653 km)

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Bill ShaneyfeltNice tour.
Thanks for all the great nature photos!
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1 year ago