To Shawano

June 9, 2021

This is not a death march

The view south (away from the storm) from our hotel window last night during the thunderstorm. The mounded rise on the far right is Rib Mountain; on the left is the coal burning Weston Power Plant.

The storm passed late in the evening, leaving us this morning with a beautiful, clear sky - unfortunately, since it’s another 90+ day. With a 63 mile ride to Shawano (the longest day of the tour so far) ahead of us, we would have appreciated a bit of cloud cover.

We’ve been dreading today’s ride to Shawano ever since it was apparent how hot it was going to be. The words Death March were spoken a time or two. This sounded funny at the time.

We do a reasonably good job of getting a jump on the day, having a snack breakfast in our room and rolling out at 7:30. Good, but not good enough. We’ll try even harder tomorrow.

A mile out of town we come to the big climb of the day - 122 feet, according to the climb profile that pops up on Rachael’s Garmin but mysteriously not on mine. There’s not much to it, though it’s maybe 7% at its steepest. It’s nice to get it out of the way so early, while we’re fresh and it’s still comfortable out.

Getting the worst climb of the day out of the way early, just on the outskirts of Wausau.

Looking back from the summit. King of the Mountain!

If it weren’t for the heat and distance, this would be a pretty easy ride. Due east the whole way, with a series of modest rollers for the first half of the ride followed by a gradual drop at the end to Shawano. For the first two hours riding is quite comfortable - still in the seventies, with a slight headwind cooling us down. We make decent time for the first fifteen miles, with Rachael gradually pulling further away as I stop for a few snaps. Eventually she drifts out of sight, with the plan that we’ll join up at mile 22 in Birnamwood, the only village with services on the first half of the ride.

Typical countryside east of Wausau. Very nice.

The Hmong are the largest Asian ethnic group in Wisconsin, and many of them are concentrated in and around Wausau. Looks like hot, backbreaking work.

Eastbound on County Road N. We’re in Wausau County now, and this is a different N road than we’ve ridden before. I think this is our third one so far.

The view east from the high point of the day.

What?? This is the Eau Claire River; but a different one further east from the one that empties into the Chippewa at Eau Claire. This one empties into the Wisconsin at Wausau. I’ve never seen two overs with the same name in the same state before.

Off by himself in the field, trotting off to the distant trees for safety. I tried to get past him to get the sun behind me, for a better shot, but he was too fast.

Landed right at my feet, demanding to be included in the blog.

And then it happens - an SVT episode. My pulse suddenly elevates to about 150, at one of the typical scenarios when I’ve been experiencing them lately - on a descent, after cresting a hill. Odd, but my theory is that they’re being triggered by lack of oxygen because I forget to breathe when I’m just coasting into a headwind all of a sudden after exerting myself on the climb.

I detect it right away, and take the usual remedy - I find a patch of shade and lie down. This almost always quickly stops it, but not today. After a few minutes I give up and start riding again, after calling Rachael to warn her that I’m probably ten or fifteen minutes behind her.

I’m going slow anyway, so I stop for the Barn of the Day. I’ve been seeing several of these, with a small white shed beside it. What’s that about?

Video sound track: It’s Too Darn Hot, by Stacey Kent

Things fall apart from here. I finally arrive in Birnamwood, and lie down in the shade again. Maybe this time? Maybe I’m getting dehydrated, so Rachael brings me a massive bottle of Gatorade from the store we’re stopped beside. No luck though - it just keeps racing along. Then, Rachael asked if I took my meds this morning. It’s the right question - I realize I forgot this morning, for probably the first time in months.

We’re still 40 miles from Shawano. With all the significant terrain behind us, we start biking. Five miles later, I stop and lie down again. And then again. And again. Finally, still 23 miles from Shawano, its clear this isn’t working. I’m feeling light headed and weak, so I flag down a car. A woman with an SUV stops immediately, loads my gear and the bike into the back of the car, and we start driving east. I thank her for her generosity, and apologize for stinking up her car.

It’s not until then that she asks where I’m bound, and I tell her Shawano, 23 miles off. Too far for her - she’s on her way to a health clinic just down the road to assist in a Covid vaccination clinic that’s on today, and suggests I could go there with her and cool off and get rehydrated. Deal. We pull up next to Rachael to let her know the plan, and then we drive on to the clinic, perhaps half a mile away. There’s one out here so far from town because it’s to service the Mohican Reservation that we just passed a few miles back. In retrospect, I wish I’d had the energy to stop and take a photo of the sign at the reservation entrance. I’d considered it at the time, but didn’t have the energy.

The clinic for the Stockbridge-Munsee tribe of the Mohicans.

We’ve heard a lot about and experienced Minnesota Nice, but we have to rate Wisconsin very high too. We haven’t encountered many folks that are nicer, more helpful and accommodating than the wonderful staff at the Stockbridge-Munsee Clinic. They really couldn’t be any better. They plop me on a wheelchair and wheel me down the hall to an examination room and lay me out on a cot until a nurse arrives. Christina and Jason are both amazing. They take my vital signs, confirm that I’m humming away at a steady 150 bpm, and then give me an EKG. I’m lying there for about ten minutes when they inform me that they’re not a hospital and can’t treat me to force the condition to stop. They call an ambulance to drive me to the hospital in Shawano.

The question of the bicycles comes up - will they take my bike in the ambulance? Jason doesn’t know the answer to that, but he has a pickup, lives in Shawano, and offers to drop off my bike and gear when he gets off work. Then he asks about Rachael, who is just about to start biking to town. What if she has a mechanical or other breakdown? He says she can ride along in the ambulance, and he’ll bring both bikes to town for us. What a great guy!

And then, the racing suddenly stops. There’s still time, so they call off the ambulance. They put me on an intravenous saline drip and I lie around rehydrating for the next 45 minutes. When it’s all drained in they check my signs again, confirm that I seem fine, and check me out with the good advice that I should remember to take my meds and keep hydrated.

Rachael’s been waiting out front for the last half hour, chatting with three folks there about what we’re doing with our lives. At least one of them is Mohican, and wants me to let folks know that the rumor that we’ve seen the last of them is false. All of them also want the link to our blog, so he gives me his email address so I can send it along later.

Such wonderful people, all of them!

So we start biking again. It’s still 22 miles to Shawano and it’s still 90+ and horribly humid, so it’s only Type 2 Fun. We roll in about 4:30, and I immediately take a cold shower and collapse for an hour until dinner.

So, not a Death March after all. If you want to read about a real death march though, here is the tragic, enraging history of the Mohicans, taken from the tribe’s website. Our own little travails are so small.

Thank you, Christina!! And thanks so much to Jason as well. I regret that I didn’t ask for his photo as well, but we won’t forget.

One last barn shot, on the way into Shawano. Is this a Cuban pattern? I think the mailbox across the street was painted with the Cuban flag.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 63 miles, 2,200’; for the tour: 408 miles, 12,100’

Today's ride: 63 miles (101 km)
Total: 407 miles (655 km)

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Comment on this entry	Comment	16

Suzanne GibsonWithout the heat the pictures look like it was a nice ride. Glad you bounced back for your SVT episode like that and are ok.
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3 years ago

Gregory GarceauAn SVT on the road would make most people frown,
The nurses at the clinic just make Scott lie down.
One minute it's 15o beats,
The next he's up on his feets,
And he pedals 30 miles to the next town.
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Gregory GarceauBeats/feets. Brilliant!
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3 years ago

Bob DistelbergWow, glad to hear the SVT episode resolved itself, and I'm super impressed that you continued the ride after that. I think I'd have a tough time making myself finish the day's ride, heat or no heat.
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Suzanne GibsonYes, without the heat. It’s bad luck, really - it’s early to have such a heat spell. When we biked through near here in late June four years ago it was wet and cold. The climate here is very unpredictable.
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Bob DistelbergI was relieved too. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything like this one. I don’t tolerate heat and high humidity that well.
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3 years ago

Bruce LellmanOh man! Because of my experiences with high heat and humidity and its affects on the body, I suspect it might have had as much to do with you having an SVT as the absence of your meds. Electrolytes.
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Bruce LellmanI’m sure you’re right about the humidity and heat. Thinking back over the decades, some of my worst episodes were in conditions like this.
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3 years ago

Jen RahnGeez! Sounds like an awful and scary experience.

So glad that there were some kind and wonderful Wisconsinites to step in and help!!

I don't like that your weather has been so Undaunted Porridge-like.

Hope there's some relief from the heat in the days to come.
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3 years ago

Gregory GarceauDuring the years I rode on RAGBRAI (the famous July bike ride across Iowa) I often talked to riders from western states who were experienced in high-heat cycling. To a man (and a woman) they agreed that the humidity in the mid-west adds a whole new, unexpected dimension.

For sure, the humidity has been here this week, but it'll get much worse in the next two months. Get out while you can!
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Jen RahnYup. Relief has arrived. We hit the shore of Lake Michigan today, and it suddenly feels like we’re at the coat. It’s midafternoon, 67, and breezy. Aah!
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Gregory GarceauChange of plans. We just arrived in Angoma on the shore of Lake Michigan, and it’s wonderful. We’re just going to keep circling the lake for the next two months and then catch a bus to Newark.
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3 years ago

Ron SuchanekWho in their right mind would rode in oppressive, unrelenting heat like this????
Wait, don't answer that.
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3 years ago

Ron SuchanekI'm glad your SVT episode resolved, and it's always great to hear about kindness and generosity people encounter while on the road.
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3 years ago

Scott AndersonTo Ron SuchanekYou made it look like such fun that we had to see for ourselves. We’ve seen now. That’s enough.
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3 years ago

Rachael AndersonTo Ron SuchanekThe two of you had a much more difficult tour!! But we’re older and growing older by the minute.
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3 years ago