Stage 28 - Kabetogama to Ely, MN - June 21, Friday 

David is anxious to get started cycling. He wants to begin one day on-time, something we have failed to do with clock-like accuracy. 

MORNING RITUAL ... 

Things look good. All suitcases are packed and ready for Api, Judy, and Morgan to load. They will leave after us, traveling faster in the van and meeting us at a prearranged time / place later that morning. 

Our morning bike preparation ritual nears an end. We clean the rear cassette, rear derailleurs, and front chainrings of our own bike with tidy wipes. We clean our chain and relube it. We reinflate the front and rear tires. 

Water bottles are filled. Food and gels packed. Sunscreen applied. Sun protectors for arms on. Neck wraps providing additional protection against sun pulled over head. Roll-on pain relieving liquid for my knees put in a back pocket (it helps manage my knee discomfort during the day). Sneakers off and cycling shoes on. Last but not least, Garmin computers turned on and the day’s course selected. 

We are ready to go! A timely departure at hand. 

PFFFTTT ... 

What caused that distinctive sound?!?!  David and I react instantly with the same “Oh Shit No” expression on our faces. I walk over to his bike. Rear tire flat. Again. Damn it. Again. For the umpteenth time. David has not gone more than a day without a flat. And this time, the tire flatted just leaning against the house. He’s cursed! 

The flat is so sublimely ridiculous and the problem so frequent that we laugh. Anger won’t help. The sound and our immediate and similar reactions and facial expressions has us shaking our heads. 

We immediately go about addressing the problem. David has new tire rim tape. We’ll fix that first in hopes of effecting a riot cause solution. David completes that task smoothly. 

Replacing the tube takes a little longer. Sporting cuts to four of my knuckles from hitting the spokes of his bike’s wheel, I’m eager for David to make the repair on his own. David wears medical gloves on both hands for cleanliness. He wears a black pleather glove on his right hand to protect against cuts. It’s an amusing sight. 

Long story short, David does most of the fix himself. Judy googles tire fixing and contributes timely and helpful suggestions. I pitch in finishing installation of the tire. Of course I cut another knuckle. David’s bike hates me.

Off we go 90 minutes late. 

TODAY’S RIDE ... 

The weather is beautiful.

The scenery is gorgeous. Wild flowers fit the landscape , at times appearing like a carpet over fields near and far. Flowers are a constant companion on the roadside. I love the daisies and yellow ‘butter cup’ flowers.  

Everywhere are birch trees (I called them aspen in earlier blogs). As previously reported, they are one of my favorite trees. I love how they look, their tiny leaves and the sounds they make. Stands of birch trees are so numerous I wonder why they don’t share equal billing with Minnesota’s 10,000+ lakes. 

As we ride, I am impressed with the number of trucks hauling boats. It’s almost humorous. In fact, it seems trucks without boats are in the distinct minority. All Minnesotans who can drive must fish or at least own a boat of some kind. 

Speaking of driving ... Minnesota: fix your roads! The vast majority we have ridden are in bad shape. Butt busting seams are every 20 feet. The sides of roads are either nonexistent or in decrepit shape. 

I am riding with Jonah at his pace. Suddenly, when we’re within 8 miles of the restaurant where we’ll have lunch, swoosh, Jonah is gone. I crest the top of a hill thinking I’m just behind him. But he’s gone. Did somebody say “Cheeseburger”? He’s rocketed ahead of me. I bust a gut trying to catch him. I arrive just behind him. 

THE LUYCK BUYCK CAFE ... 

We eat at a roadside cafe called The Luyck Buyck seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Across the street oddly enough is a golf course. 

There are a couple customers inside. The place is unpretentious with an interesting mish-mash decor. The food service is pizza and nothing else. We’re hungry and order two. The waitress seems standoffish and the place unfriendly. While we’re eating, a fella walks in, spies us, and asks in a loud voice: “Are you the crazy folks with the bicycles?” His tone is friendly and we banter back and forth. Whatever ice was in the atmosphere melts. Other customers enter. More back and forth. The waitress relaxes, whatever reserve gone. We’ve become regular customers and she’s become friendly and helpful. 

As we leave, a row of customers at the outside bar discuss our biking trip with us. The men are especially interested in the placement and protection of the family jewels. It’s an atypical and interesting back and forth. As we leave, they wish us well and safe journey. 

The visit and area reminds me of Bryan, a tiny town in NW Ohio where Terri and I lived for five or six years and had our first three daughters. 

AN EARLY END (OH HALLELUJAH) ... 

David researches the remainder of the day’s cycling route during lunch. Discussion with the waitress confirms that all roads to our final destination are gravel. Eureka!!! Gravel is our Superman’s kryptonite; we cycle on paved roads only. This marks the first time David’s cycling is stopped before journey’s end. We ride another 12 miles to pavement’s end, load bikes in van, and start driving. 

The Minnesota scenery continues to impress. It is a beautiful drive.

RIDE REDUX ... 

With about fifteen miles to our cabins, the gravel ends and pavement begins. An opportunity for more cycling!!! David and I remount our steeds excited to pedal another 45 minutes or so on a beautiful day. 

We arrive at our accommodations. Hmmm, interesting. The owner forgot he had three rentals so we wait while the cabins are cleaned. They are appointed early Americana (e.g. old and outdated). The bathroom plumbing arrangements are inventive. The electrical (e.g. extension cord) configuration in the main room is interesting. Well, here we are staying for better or worse. 

SLEEP INTERRUPTED ... 

I wake around 1:30 and struggle to fall back asleep. I think about the day’s ride and the fun I had climbing Minnesota’s hills. Words form sentences in my head, a poetic description of what I felt. I realize I will lose them unless I write them down now. So I do... 

MY HEART SOARS ... 

There is an unbridled joy that comes from being strong on your bicycle climbing up a hill. You stand on your pedals and spin your wheels and begin your ascent. You’re halfway up and you think it’s time to sit and mash the rest of the way to the top. And instead, you think to yourself, no. No. You reach a little deeper inside and find your legs responding. The Slim Miss Piggy dances beneath your feet. And you dancing on her pedals. Climbing higher and higher, your bike swinging side to side under your command, moving up and upward. It’s fun, this flying. Then you are at the top of the hill. Triumphant. Your legs. Your body. The Slim Miss Piggy. On top of the hill feeling strong, a strength you didn’t know you had. It was a short climb. But it was joyful. And you sit down on your seat. Pedaling. The breaths now coming harder as your body demands oxygen. More oxygen. Happy. Thinking everything was worth it. For the joy of flight up a hill. Doing something you love. And doing it better than you ever thought possible. It’s a small moment in a much larger day. Yet it encapsulates every reason you had for doing this adventure. To be free on your bicycle for hours, days, weeks at a time. Riding and having fun.