May 15, 2015
I Am Not The Grim Reaper
Richard J. Dorer State Forest, Minnesota
IT'S NATIONAL BIKE TO WORK DAY! I heard that on the news this morning. That's great. I'm glad to see the bicycle commuters now have their own national holiday. I rode my bike to work for more than 30 years with no fanfare. Perhaps in another thirty years there will be a national Start a Long Bike Tour Day.
As I pedaled out of Winona this morning, I got the feeling that Winonagans (Winonasotans? Winobos? Winos? Winonariders?) weren't taking the holiday to heart. I saw nothing but motor vehicles on the roads.
Also in the news was the death of blues legend B.B. King. Three weeks ago, when I was in Memphis, I saw his famous Blues club. In fact, you can see it in the photo I took while on Beale Street. I was tempted to go into B.B.'s place for lunch, but I was holding out for Charlie Vergos' place. Rest in peace, B.B. King.
Another death I didn't mention earlier was that of Percy Sledge, who sang the classic soul song "When a Man Loves a Woman." He was from Baton Rouge and he died the day before I got to that city.
I sincerely hope my presence had nothing to do with either of those deaths, but, just in case, let me just say "be careful out there Prince, Husker Du, The Replacements, Soul Asylum, Low, Suicide Commandos, Gear Daddies, Har Mar Superstar, Trampled By Turtles, Atmosphere and, of course, Bob Dylan. I'm in Minnesota now.)
At the town of Kellogg I rode away from from the comfort of Highway 61 and up into the Minnesota bluff country. I aimed myself toward the Kruger Unit of the Richard J. Dorer State Forest. It's a quiet, remote little campground not far from the Zumbro River and surrounded by very high hills. The bad thing about this location is that there is absolutely no cell phone service. Actually, that is a GOOD thing--except when you've promised your wife that you'd call home every evening and let her know you are safe. Trust me, it's no fun after you've settled in and had a couple of beers to have to leave the campground and ride steeply uphill for more than a mile to find a spot with enough cell coverage to call your wife.
Lest you think my wife would be okay if I didn't call her for just ONE night, think again. Last year, when I was in a similar situation in a river valley deep in the Berkshire Mountains, I thought to myself, "Well, no cell phone service--she'll understand." Oh, how naive I was. The Feeshko called the Massachusetts State Police to report a missing bike rider. I'm not kidding. The State Police told her not to worry too much because cell phone coverage can be sketchy in the Berkshires, but she still worried all night. I was NOT going to deny her a phone call tonight.
After I got back to the campground, I saw something frightening. I thought it was poison ivy. It was everywhere, including where I had just taken a pee. I hope I am one of the small percentage of people who are immune to the terrible effects of the urushiol contained in those evil plants.
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I think you're probably right. They definitely look more like blackberry thorn scratches than chain ring gouges. Even though it's now three years after the fact, I'm more than a little embarrassed. Thanks.
5 years ago
5 years ago
Today's ride: 36 miles (58 km)
Total: 1,537 miles (2,474 km)
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pinus_strobus
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pinus_resinosa
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_pine
5 years ago
5 years ago
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dewberry
5 years ago