Itasca State Park... overnight shakedown ride

In preparation for The Tour (of not France), I thought that a fully-loaded "real world" (not the tv show) training ride might be a judicious (and maybe even fun!) way to spend a couple days up at Castaway.  So I decided to complete an overnight ride to a place of fond memories from my intern days of 2003: Itasca State Park. 

leaving the beloved Ketch... Itasca or bust!

Here I am, ready for the maiden voyage with the fully loaded Surly.  Back panniers are carrying extra clothes (for around camp and sleeping), tent, sleeping pad, and sleeping bag.  The front panniers are each carrying 2 liters of water (in platypus bladders), other various bags are carrying spare tires, tools, phone, food, and probably other stuff.  The setup is pretty comprehensive... and pretty heavy.

The goal is to ride all this stuff up to the Park, camp that night, and ride back the next day.  The Park is about 75 miles away.  

The ride there was pretty uneventful.  Hot (I drank all the water - about 6 liters).  I only took one wrong turn, adding a couple unnecessary miles.  The only concern I had was traffic (moderate) and timing (I left much too late).  

The highlight was a deserted Minnesota country road just south of the Park.  Nicely paved, rolling hills, beautiful lakes... it was glorious.  I saw 14 deer (better to be riding a bike than driving), a bald eagle swoop about 15 feet over my head - awesome, and no cars.  Very very nice.

I've always been fascinated by these big irrigation machines... probably ever since my grandpa used to tell me stories about their fictitious inventor: Pudgy Pugh (sp?)

Made it!  Better late than never!

Set up camp in the dark... this shot is from the next morning.

I arrived safe & sound, quickly set up camp (first time using the new tent), and fell asleep very quickly.  It rained all night and I stayed dry (despite my rainfly not being as taut as it perhaps could be).  Way to go MSR.

I packed some food, but most in the form of granola bars.  While they are technically sustenance, my body REALLY wanted some protein.  To say that eating a Nature Valley bar and some fruit snacks after a 75 mile bike ride is slightly dissatisfying is an understatement of epic proportions.  I went to sleep dreaming of breakfast burritos.  Really.  (farm boys breakfast burritos from RAGBRAI).

I woke up to rain... checked the weather... more rain on the way.  I waited for it to dissipate slightly, and begrudgingly packed up and rolled out.  The one stop I wanted to make at Lake Itasca was the Mississippi Headwaters.  You might not have known this... the Mississippi is mighty, but it starts in Minnesota at a place you can walk across with five steps down.  (will that be the only Indigo Girls reference of this post?! ... um, yeah, probably.)  That place is Itasca State Park.  (fun fact: Itasca is Minnesota's oldest state park: established in 1891).

my bike crossing the mighty Mississippi (weather holding for now)

As I began my ride home, my mind was distinctly focused on two very specific things: 1) the worsening weather, and 2) breakfast... not granola bars... REAL breakfast.  I rode a few miles through the park, which is absolutely beautiful by the way - really truly terrific.  The sky was darkening rapidly, and I was hearing distant rolling thunder.  Near the entrance, I noticed the Lodge had a restaurant.  I pulled in and had just sat down (with more than one odd look at the unshowered guy in spandex sitting in the corner) when it began to pour.  Perfect timing.

I ordered something that seemed like a lot, "the Lumberjack's Special" or "Triple Bypass Breakfast" or something to that extent.  It was one of the greatest breakfasts I've ever had.  And it was like 7 bucks.  I love Northern Minnesota.

biscuits & gravy, hashbrowns, scrambled eggs, 4 pieces of toast, orange juice, and an entire carafe of coffee.

Seriously though, outstanding.

I tried to wait through the rain for a bit, but it was only projected to get worse.  Better get on with it I guess.

Bad news: I forgot a jacket (rain or otherwise).  I am not smart.  
Good news: The visitor's center was giving away free trash bags!

the weather was unpleasant.  i am nonplussed. and wearing a trash bag vest.

As well equipped as I'd ever be... off I went.  Like a slightly more pious, but no less manic Lieutenant Dan into the storm.

great day for a ride!

I don't mind riding in some rain... but lightning kinda freaks me out.  In a crazy idea to keep roads dry, they're often higher than the surrounding area.  Also, I have a steel bicycle between my legs.  There was some rain, then a lot of rain.  Then a LOT of lightning.  Bolts hitting the ground... on both sides of the road.  I immediately bailed and rushed to the nearest shelter, an abandoned barn with a very clear "No Trespassing" sign.

sorry about disobeying your sign, but I'm more scared of lightning than you.

I may have sent Kelly a text to the effect of "I'm hiding in this barn, if I don't get back, start the manhunt here and move out in concentric circles.  Killer is likely in adjacent house." with a dropped pin of my location.  Ahhh... technology.

It wasn't long before the storm moved on... as did I.  In fact, I rode through some very pleasant sunshine for the next hour or so, until the next wave of the storm surfaced... I was biking right into it...

really?

I read this just as I was about to continue, and decided not to "go for it".  But this time, I had other shelter to choose from.  Well, not really "choose"... but I found this campground of sorts, and asked if I could just hang out in the office and wait it out.  The conversation went like this:

*sky is black in one direction*
me: "Hey, I think a storm is moving in, I was wondering if it would be okay if I could hide out indoors for just a bit to wait it out."
lady: "a storm, huh?  hmm... haven't heard anything about that..."
*lightning cracks in distance*
me: "yeah, I guess it might be a pretty big one"
*rain starts*
lady: "yeah, I guess a little something might be starting up.  sure, you can come on in to the office, if ya want."

Less than five minutes later, I literally cannot see 20 feet out the window.  Sheets of rain.  Sheets.

What I can see, however, is the inside of the campground office.  It is... errrr... interesting.

the Shell Lake Resort & Campground Office...

The nice lady (I forget her name... something short... Fran?  Midge?) was great.  We watched Who Wants to be a Millionare? (yes, apparently that's still a show).  After a while (far too long), I left with the rain still heavy, but most of the lightning gone.

more accommodating than my last stop...

I got about 8 miles down the road before lightning started back up in earnest.  I hid under the overhang of a bar welcoming "fishermen"... not sure how they felt about cyclist in spandex.

Fortunately, I was able to find out, because about everyone in the bar came out for a smoke while I was waiting out the lightning.  Responses ranged from (chuckle) "nice day for a ride". to (in a slight drunken stupor) "WHAT THE?! WHATDYA RIDE YER BIKE HERE!? FROM ITASCA, YOU SAY!? WHY THE?! HOWYDA!? WHATERYA GONNA *indiscernible mumble-yell* BIKE?!..."  I liked that guy.

Everyone was very nice, as is typical in Northern Minnesota.  A few even offered to give me a ride into Detroit Lakes, but I thought I could still make it on my own... but at this point I was racing the daylight more than anything.

After about 45 minutes of waiting by the bar, I had to get home.  The lightning had mostly passed.  The race was on.  About 30 miles back to Castaway.  

I made it, but it was pretty dark by the time I got back.  I hung up my went camping gear, and went straight to club to see Kelly be hilarious.  Great day.

Not ideal weather... but in a way, that's good preparation, too.  It forces resourcefulness.  I was proud to (safely) finish.

Here is the ride out:
 

And here is the ride home:

Allow Me To Re-Introduce Myself [or at least... this blog]

Part of what I think/hope this world-wide-webular-based-log will become is not so much a strict "this is what I did to work out today, this is what I ate, and this is how fat I still am" list (what a legacy!)... but rather that it will morph into more of a general compilation of stories surveying manifold (mis)adventures with varying degrees of relevancy to the blog's stated purpose.  Now (with that run-on sentence out of the way) to that end, I invite you to turn the proverbial corner with me... the next several posts will tell the tale of the "Great Bicycle Adventure of 2012"... or "Tour de Northern Parks 2012"... or "Take That Canada!"... or "Why Did You Do That For Two Weeks?"... we're still working on the name.  I might just call it "The Tour" from here on out.  I'm open to suggestions.

Some of you may be unfamiliar with my "big summer plans", others of you might be well aware and are already saying "I know what you did last this summer".  (will that be the only Jennifer Love Hewitt movie reference of this post?!  ... stay tuned to find out!)  

The short version is pretty simple.  I will attempt to ride my bicycle from Jasper National Park down the Columbia Icefields Parkway to Banff, into Waterton-Glacier National Park(s), and down through Yellowstone and into Jackson, Wyoming.  This trip has taken on several different variations (at one point being a cross country trip), and with varying degrees of help from others (from someone carrying all my stuff almost all the time - to me loading absolutely everything up on my bike).

Being from Chicago, and already hating rolling my bike up hills (an endeavor it seems decidedly disinclined to accommodate), I decided some "training" might be prudent.  With the whirlwind close to the school year, most of this training had to wait until June.  But since I waited (and had been plumping up like a spring chicken... am I using that simile correctly?), when I started - I began in earnest.  In short, I logged some serious miles in June.  About 700 in 3 weeks (arrived at Castaway on June 9th and rode 710 miles before July 1st... roughly 45 hours in the saddle), including an unsupported century ride (100 miles), and a few hill work outs. One called "hills hills hills" (will that be the only veiled Destiny's Child reference in this post?! ... stay tuned to find out!) in which I just climb the biggest/steepest hill that I could find near Castaway over and over (and over) again.  In fairness, it's actually pretty steep... but not very high.  Like 150 feet.  (Later this summer, I would attempt a ride with about 6,800 feet of climb... so... yeah... I wasn't able to really train for that).

The one ride that was really supposed to prepare me for The Tour, though, was a fully self-supported trip to Itasca State Park.  But, in the interest of brevity, that tale will have to wait for another time.  I bet you can't hardly wait.

doin' work in June. no days off (once I got to Castaway)