wet morning on US-2
I got up early, ate breakfast (french toast--what else?--excellent)
at the cafe in Warba. I was informed at the cafe that Rod and Kelly had
been there for breakfast yesterday; so they were now 24 hours ahead of me.
I got going at 8:07 AM.
It was raining.
Because it was a bit foggy, I turned on my Vista lights (yellow
in front; xenon red in rear).
I started out with my full rainsuit--jacket and pants, but quickly became
too hot and took off the rain pants. I've never liked wearing them. Unless
there was the possibility of days like the one near Rancheria, BC when it
was cold (around freezing) and wet, I don't think I would bother bringing
my rain pants. My bike shorts are always sopping wet from perspiration when
I wear the rain pants; so who cares whether its raining. I doubt I'll take
my rain pants on the Florida segment or DALMAC.
By 11:44, I'd ridden 34.6 miles. The constant rain stopped after
a couple of hours and became nothing but an intermittent drizzle, so I took
my rain jacket off too. I actually prefer the soothing effect of light rain
on my skin. Around 11:30, I picked up a tailwind. It was hilly, so to some
effect the gains were lost (10 mph uphill), but it sure felt good when I
could feel it. There were times I was going 18 mph on the flats without
pedaling. The tailwinds seemed to be coming from a thunderstorm that was
right behind me. I could see big black clouds in my mirror and didn't dare
stop or slow down for fear the storm would catch up with me.
I am a wetland aficionado. Wetlands are a truly fascinating part of our ecosystem. They often contain rare species of plant and animal. Minnesota (and Michigan) is well known for its calcarious fens, a particularly rare form of wetland that fosters the growth of carnivorous plants. Several years ago, I received an award from the Sierra Club and several other environmental organizations for my efforts to protect biodiversity of wetlands, by undertaking to halt the construction of a wastewater treatment plant in a wooded wetland adjacent to a calcarious fen.
I took a picture of the sort of radial tire pieces that caused
my flat tires. There have been several such broken tires per mile of US-2
(all the way since Montana). [Radial tire debris littered
all the highways from Montana to Florida]
I took a swig from one of my water bottles full of Gatorade and
realized there were things growing in it--little alligators? It was gross.
I stopped at a convenience store and tried to wash it, but the algae would
have necessitated using Comet (chlorine bleach) cleanser and some sort of
brush--too much hassle on the road, so I decided to dispose of the water
bottle. Subsequently, I realized there were lumps in the other one too,
so I stopped drinking Gatorade from it (and later threw it out too). I bought
a squeeze bottle of bottled water--it tasted awful.
In retrospect, I must admit I was handling my Gatorade all wrong. I wasn't
rinsing my water bottles. I hadn't actually washed them out in weeks. I
would buy new Gatorade and add it to what was there. It was fun. I was creating
new colors and flavors. The problem was, the old stuff was still in there
growing algae as Gatorade does. It must be a real good fertilizer because
Gatorade starts growing noticeably in just a couple of days. The bad news
was that the Specialized water bottles I was using are hard to find. I like
them because they have wide screw-on lids and can be washed in the dishwasher
at home. I now recommend rinsing water bottles daily. [I've
switched more recently to Nalgene water bottles--see Packing
page]
At Saginaw Station -- a fork in the road -- US-2 and 194, I stopped for
directions to the bike store. The store proprietor (a newly remodeled live
entertainment bar/gas station--weird combination), who was very nice and
particularly knowledgeable about Duluth--20 miles away, told me to take
194 to 53; that US-2 soon became limited access and bicycles were prohibited.
He said he saw Nadia heading down US-2. [as it turned
out, I think she was actually behind me--see
note]. In Canada, almost all roads are
open to bicycles--even expressways.
I took 194. The tailwinds helped me to get my speed up to the high teens
and occasionally, the low 20's. The ride into town was real complex. Traffic
was very heavy. I tended to ride on the shoulders until I'd come to a right
turn lane, then move over and ride along the line between the straight lane
and right turn lane. At one point I saw a car with Alaska license plates
driving into a mall parking lot and decided to flag it down. It was a young
man from Fairbanks, whose dad was with the US Fish & Wildlife Service
there. I gave him my URL.
As I got into Duluth, it was definitely urban riding--very complex and a
bit scary. The shoulder would dry up and traffic would line up behind me
unable to pass. Whenever the lane would widen, I'd get far to the right
and let the cars go by. Only one seemed to complain--by honking. Tough.
I have my rights too.
As I got near Mesabi Avenue, I started to wonder if I was lost, so stopped
for directions. I was right on track. I suddenly saw Lake Superior and an
ore boat, and the bottom dropped out of the road.
I was on a high bluff and the road dropped down precipitously
(8-10%) to the City below.
It was still wet and I stopped a few times to let my tire rims
cool off (they heated dangerously from heavy brake use), rest my hand muscles
(sore from applying the brakes) and build up my nerve for the next free
fall. I turned left at Lake Avenue (actually one block past Lake) and followed
it down to Canal Park. Lake was steeper yet and to makes matters worse--was
made of cobblestone--wet cobblestone, with stop signs and stop lights to
contend with. I would guess Lake is a 12-13% grade. I was white-knuckled
from braking. I stopped a couple of times for directions. At Canal Park,
I became thoroughly lost--because I didn't actually have the Twin Ports
Cyclery address. Finally, I asked a UPS man and found my way there.
Twin Ports is a really nice bike store--one of the biggest I've
ever been into.
They seemed to carry a broad spectrum of equipment--selling almost
every bike item I have (Cannondale, Trek, etc.). Bicycle mechanic Joe was
holding a Conti Top Touring tire for me.
While he was installing it, I looked around and bought a couple
of new water bottles (not as good as my originals--but they'll get me home),
and, a new pair of Oakleys (still marked $135).I left my bike there and
went on a desperate quest for food--I hadn't eaten since breakfast and it
was after 4:00. I ate some steak fajitas, and after drinking copious quantities
of water, had a Corona beer. I can't eat Mexican food without beer.
I then inquired at a local hotel about a room for the night. There, I was
approached by the wife of a friend from the Tri-County Bicycle Association
(my bike club in Lansing, Michigan). They were there riding and she'd recognized
my Denny's Schwinn bike hat as being local to Lansing. She informed me that
I was only a mere 700 miles from home. I meant to figure out how to get
together with them, but was so disoriented from waiting so long to eat,
that I was almost incapable of thinking.
I headed up the Duluth Waterwalk (lakefront bike path/walking trail) a couple
of miles to the Lakeview Motel, where despite relatively high rates ($79),
I checked in and proceeded to fall immediately asleep on top of the bed
fully attired (bike gloves, hat, sweat band, clothes and even SPD shoes)
for about 2 hours. Then I worked on the web page.
71 miles.
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© Ed Noonan 1996, 1997