Chance of precipitation

Hager City to Buffalo City, Wisconsin. Tuesday, June 22, 2021

OK, let me say at the outset that it’s not my fault. I didn’t finish today’s ride until 10 PM, so wound up staying in a motel when I had hoped to camp.

It’s not my fault because my tent was soaking with dew and condensation, it was 46° when I woke up. I had pitched it in the shadow of the lodge, so I had to wait until the sun rose high enough to dry it out.

It’s not my fault because the brake repair turned out to be damaged brake pads, which took about an hour and a half to exchange. Luckily, I had brought some spares.

It’s not my fault because my weekly therapist session was right before a huge hill, I can talk while riding but not while huffing and puffing. I did most of the session at a rest stop.

It’s not my fault because the route along the Wisconsin Bluffs was so achingly beautiful that I had to stop at every scenic overlook and historical marker. The one at Maiden Rock in particular caught my eye, especially because, well, I’ll let them tell it.

The story is remarkable for a number of reasons. It features our old friend, Henry Schoolcraft, the same dude that 12 years later “discovered” the source of the Mississippi River. The story has shades of the old Montague/Capulet thing, although in this case Romeo appears to have gotten off Scott-free. What especially struck me is that she died, apparently, of precipitation.

In our callow youth, my buds and I would often “honor” a precipice by precipissing over the side. I guess this maiden took a different approach.

It’s not my fault because I had to slow down to a crawl to watch the odometer roll over to 3,000.

OK, maybe this one is partly my fault. I had a microwave burger at my lunch stop. Burgers appear to have a soporific effect on me. At one of the scenic overlooks, I couldn’t resist lying down on the picnic table, wound up sleeping for almost an hour.

Now way behind schedule, I had to race to catch the North End Café in Cochrane before they closed. This had been recommended by Mary, the docent at the Mesabi Iron Range visitor center, her daughter Marie worked there. Marie was off that night, but I did talk to her husband Nick. I was so animated that I knocked my tacos off the table and onto the floor below. Nick was very gracious, and brought out some new ones. I was chagrined to leave quite a mess.

Even at 10 PM, there were traces of the sunset over the Mississippi, across from the lovely Great River Lodge.

Indeed, the Mississippi moon, almost full, was just rising. There was a fire ring out front, and I chatted for quite a while with Leah and Leanne, two sisters from Antigo, Wisconsin. Leanne had retired, Leah was an accountant who had decided to enter nursing school at age 50. When I got to my room, I found that some of the taco was still in my cycling sandal. Charming.

The next morning, I saw that a Viking had been presiding over the scene.

Distance 53 miles, 3,019 total. Time 8 hours with stops. Elevation gain 1,391 feet.

©️ 2021 Scott Luria