40 days and 40 nights

Tomahawk to Rhinelander, Wisconsin. Wednesday, May 26, 2021

A biblical reference, and even though I’m an atheist I felt like Noah, with all this rain. A milestone for me, since this was exactly how long my Camino walk lasted two years ago, so today I have surpassed my longest trip ever.

I was slow getting going. I overslept, still sleep deprived, and didn’t get up until almost 9. This motel does not serve breakfast, so I had purchased one of those eight packs of individual boxes of cereal last night, it seemed to take forever to open and eat them. Missy, the motel owner, showed me some of the other themed rooms that she had, including one full of antique truck photos, and another with early rock ‘n’ roll albums. She really is injecting some personality into this motel.

Howard, my walking buddy from South Ridge, called and we traded pep talks. Finally got going around noon, and sure enough the wind had shifted. Still, it was a pleasant 18-mile ride into Rhinelander, which was where I had hoped to go yesterday before the thunderstorms hit. Suddenly, I heard a distinctive ping from my rear wheel, and my heart sank. Every long-distance cycle tourist knows that sound, a spoke breaking. I guess the wheel-truing I got in Chicago, not to mention the weight I’ve lost, wasn’t enough to keep this from happening.

It could’ve been worse, it was much more likely that something like this would happen when the wheel was under stress, like in that quagmire two days ago. Fixing it then would’ve been a disaster, with the mosquitoes swarming. This time, I was fortunate enough to be right by the Rhinelander visitor center, a modern, welcoming facility that let me make the repair indoors, in comfort. Still, it took almost an hour.

The spoke was fixed, but the wheel still had a wobble, and I knew it ought to be trued and tensioned again, perhaps in a place that wasn’t so busy. The visitor center people suggested Bike and Boards, a shop just a couple of miles down the road. Sure enough, Al, the owner, was very helpful. He was by himself, but it was misleading to say that he wasn’t busy. Bikes are all the rage now, with everybody desperate to get outside again after the pandemic. Still, he made the time to adjust my wheel, and give me lots of tips about riding locally. To top it off, he wouldn’t take any money for his trouble. I gave a big tip to a local sports club that he was sponsoring.

All of this burned up almost 3 hours, and I had hoped to go an additional 24 miles to Eagle River. Sounds like a replay of yesterday. No storms threatening this time, but the headwind had intensified to 20 mph, the shoulder of the main road was inhospitable, and the back roads were 4 miles longer.

I should apologize for all this talk about shoulders and winds, must get pretty boring for someone who is not into bicycle touring. Definitely feels like I’m in the weeds. Suffice it to say I bitterly realized that Rhinelander was as far as I was going to get, once again taking two days to reach a place I’d hoped to get to in one.

But once again, life made lemonade from lemons. Today’s easter egg was Mark, the desk person at the Rhinelander Days Inn, who told me some of the town’s claims to fame. The most intriguing was the mythical beast, the Hodag. The story was so fantastical I’ll just give you the link. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hodag

It puts Vermont’s “Sidehill Wampahoofus” to shame. Mark had fun reading the blog, and figured I’d love the story. He was right. He even gave me a lapel pin!

Mark also saved me from embarrassment, or worse, down the road. He corrected my pronunciation of the local delicacy “pasties” to use the short, rather than the long “a”. Talk about dodging a bullet.

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. The real highpoints of this trip are the people.

Distance 27 miles, 1,799 total. Time 5 1/2 hours with stops. Elevation gain 732 feet