Circling the U.S. Chapter 26: Wisconsin's Northwoods - Part 2

Sunday, August 4 - Saturday, August 10

The mosquitoes were so bad at the Northern Lure Resort where we'd been camping that, Sunday morning, we packed up, grabbed a granola bar, and hoped we'd hit a diner before we ran out of energy.

We started out on a foggy Highway 77 north of Glidden. With few hills we sailed along for the 17 miles to Clam Lake where we found a tavern open for breakfast. I ordered my usual - over-easy eggs with whole wheat toast, hash browns, and bacon not too crisp, and the cook got the bacon just right. Rob had a cheese omelette with hash browns and toast. In this part of the world you can pretty much count on the hash browns being shredded potatoes smothered in grease. They are delicious with ketchup and a little extra salt and pepper. Our healthy vegan son would be disgusted.

The trees here are very tightly woven. If there's a lake back there, we couldn't see it. People rave about how beautiful the riding in Wisconsin is. It's mostly trees.

We rode 58 miles on quiet country roads. Some days the scenery didn't change much. I was restless for something new. And I worried about our ability to get to the Rockies before it started snowing, and to the Pacific Northwest before it got too cold to enjoy it. We were going to pay a price for our lackadaisical meandering.

Occasionally we were treated to a picture-perfect water view.

Just when we were getting desperate for a place to rest and have some lunch, we came to this bench in the middle of nowhere.

We rode through a Native American reservation with a casino but no campground. Rob had made some phone calls a couple days before and found a place for $60 a night out in the middle of nowhere. The owner took his name but said they didn't take credit cards, only cash. After hanging up Rob said he didn't sound too with it so I called that morning to confirm and the owner's daughter said we'd be all set.

We arrived at Norwod Haven Resort located on a lake with cabins and motel rooms and no one in the tavern or anywhere else. We wandered around for a while and finally met the owner's daughter as she was walking up the path from the beach with two little boys. She said her father was out running errands but thought she knew which room to put us in. After we had settled in we noticed the bathroom had only been partially cleaned. Cleanser had been left on the sink and the bathtub had dirt in it. When the owner showed up he offered to give us the room for $25 if we cleaned the bathroom. It really wasn't too bad so that worked for us. I let Rob do the cleaning.

That was one of those places where I say, "This is part of the adventure." It had potential. I sat on the deck outside our room and fixed myself a cup of tea, read my book, and enjoyed the view overlooking the lake. I ignored the cobwebs and peeling paint on the railing. We cooked and ate our dinner at a picnic table down by the water. The walls were paper thin but the kid next door finally turned off the television and went to bed around 10:30.

The next morning, Monday, August 5, Rob told me he had a nodule where he sits on his bike. I'd only heard about them, never had one myself, but figured he had a saddle sore. I did some research on the internet which confirmed my suspicions, and knew that we needed to take a couple days off. Treatment and prevention of saddle sores is chamois butter, sold at bicycle stores, and time off the bike.

Fortunately there was a sizable town seven miles north of us. Hayward, Wisconsin, turned out to be a great place to be stranded for a couple days. We made it to a laundromat just as it started rainng, then found a bike shop where we had our chains and brakes checked and bought a headlight, some ankle straps, a sticker for my helmet that said, "Ride Like A Girl," and a large tube of chamois butter. I got my bangs trimmed and Rob got his beard trimmed.

We stayed two nights at the Riverside Motel, run by an older German couple. Monday night we stayed in one of the less-expensiver rooms overlooking the parking lot.

Tuesday morning, when we decided to stay another day, we switched to a room overlooking the river. I happily spent the morning working on my blog while Rob went to see a doctor.

He wanted to get an x-ray of his foot. It had been hurting him for a while and he was concerned he had a stress fracture. While he was being checked out for that he had his saddle sore looked at. Nothing to worry about and no stress fracture, but several bone spurs showed up in the x-ray. We went to the Walgreens next door to our motel and bought some shoe inserts. That seems to have worked.

In the afternoon we explored the town.

And sampled popcorn.

Two walls of flavors with samples of every one. I tried almost all of them, some twice. We bought a small bag of cherry chocolate.

Hayward is a bustling tourist town that serves as the finish line for a major long-distance cross-country ski race every winter.

We enjoyed a beer and a healthy snack of deep-fried zucchini.

Saddle sores don't heal overnight and the best cure is rest. We were looking forward to some rest days in St. Paul, but we had to get there first. We figured we could get there in three days, keeping the first two days relatively short.

Wednesday, August 7, we woke to rain but it stopped and the sun came out in time for us to eat breakfast on our deck overlooking the river. Another storm hit after lunch. When we heard thunder we pulled into a driveway with a house that had a small covered front entry. No one answered the door when I knocked but we stayed tucked under the shelter, happy for the cover when the rain turned to hail. The sky cleared but as we arrived at Doolittle Park it began to rain again, thunder and lightening included.

Doolittle Park is a beach/boat launch/picnic area/campground run by the village of Birchwood. It's a real gem. We found a shelter with half a dozen picnic tables where we kept out of the rain. (The campground host told me later that was the worst place to be with its metal roof when there's lightening.) We each chose a table and took naps. Then I got up and brewed a pot of tea and we ate most of the cherry & chocolate flavored popcorn we'd bought in Hayward as we watched the rain come down on the lake. The popcorn was delicious.

After the rain stopped I wandered over to the attendant's site to find out about getting a campsite. He gave us one on the water for $10.

We enjoyed a stunning sunset.

Our plan for Thursday, August 8, was another short day - 32 miles - so we were in no hurry to leave this quiet, peaceful refuge.

Rob and I were sitting in our camp chairs, reading and finishing our morning tea when the campground host started up the lawnmower. It wasn't even eight o'clock. I couldn't believe it. I said, "Why can't he wait until people have left? Some people are probably still sleeping." How could this guy be so inconsiderate? I was pissed.

When he rode by our campsite, I said, "You're out here pretty early." He shut off the engine and we talked for a bit. He told me that he usually did the mowing on Mondays and Tuesdays when campers were few but the mower had been broken. Now he had ten hours of mowiing to do in one day. I found out that he lived at the park in the summer months because he had family nearby. In addition to managing the park he took care of his wife who's had cancer for three years.

He was a heavy-set man, maybe in his late sixties. Rob and I had the night before as he set up fencing around the beach area. He walked slowly with a limp, one leg purple and swollen. We couldn't figure out why he was putting up plastic fencing that didn't seem like it would do much to deter someone who wanted to swim. He told me he was trying to keep the Canadian geese off the beach.

He went back to his mowing and Rob and I packed up to go. I wasn't pissed off anymore. You learn a lot when you stop to talk to people.

Following are a couple scenes from Thursday's ride.

We've seen lots of retired barns in varying stages of decay. I thought this one was particularly picturesque.

Yellow highway signs for these horses and buggies were sprinkled throughout our travels. This was the first we'd seen. We think they are Mennonites. I wasn't sure it was appropriate to take the picture but as they drove by the young boys who were drivingb smiled and waved.

Although we kept the mileage down again, hills and wind kept the riding challenging. We were out of the trees and back to farmland. I felt my mood lift. I like a big landscape. Trees suffocate me.

Throughout the Northwoods we hadn't found a single Warm Showers. Then, in Cumberland, our final night in Wisconsin, we stayed with Mike and Paula. They literally welcomed us with open arms. They gave us so much besides a delicious dinner, a comfortable bed, and a warm shower. They gave us an appreciation of what their lives are like living in the Northwoods. I took Paula up on her offer to sent my injured fiddle home. But the most valuable thing they gave us was the idea that we could take the train from St. Paul to Montana. We didn't even know that was a possibility.

Mike and Paula

And their beautiful home in Cumberland, Wisconsin.

Following are a few pictures from our final day in Wisconsin, Friday, August 9, when we rode 52 miles to Shafer, Minnesota, just a stone's throw away from St. Paul.

Throughout Wisconsin all the county roads are given letter names. So we'd pretty much ridden through the alphabet. Some roads even had double and triple letters. But this later development was something else. 

We passed the remnants of another tornado.

We saw lots of signs for ATV routes throughout the Northwoods.

A random sculpture along the highway.

Friday night our Warm Showers home was a geodesic dome. Tom said he built it from a kit. The finishing work was the tough part.

There's no way a picture can capture the beauty and unique qualities of this home. At least not with my camera.

Saturday, August 10, we rode 42 miles to St. Paul, to the home of Tonya, Anise, and Ian, friends we met while they were living Boulder, Colorado. Our route took us along a quiet county road then the Gateway State Trail, a paved route that took us into St. Paul. When we stopped for a cup of tea on the bike path, a local cyclist told us that the Gateway Trail is the prettiest bike trail in the state. I wasn't all that impressed and decided that, if that's the best Minnesota has to offer, then we won't be missing much if we skip the rest of the state.

We arrived at our friends' house shortly after one o'clock and spent the rest of the day relaxing, visiting, and going for a walk.

Without much discussion Rob and I knew we were in agreement. We'd spend a few days in St. Paul, then take the train to somewhere near Glacier National Park in Montana..