A "10" - America's Most Naive Bike Tourist Rides From MN to MA - CycleBlaze

June 6, 2014

A "10"

Dickeyville, Wisconsin

This morning started with a bit of a disappointment.  I had been looking forward to taking the Cassville Ferry back into Iowa for a couple of reasons.  First, wanted to spend a night in Dyersville, which is one of the places I had lived in my youth.  Also, I just thought it would be cool to roll my bike onto a ferry.  Unfortunately, there was a big sign at the station that read "FERRY CLOSED."

I took that info in surprisingly good stride--possibly due to getting my best night of sleep yet.  I looked at my map, found a different route with a different destination, and was pleased with the fact that I would be staying on the east side of the river since, after all, I am riding to the east coast.

It was another fine morning of bike riding and I noticed that I'm definitely getting stronger on some of the climbs here in bluff country.  There is nothing like riding hills to get in shape for riding hills.

There are probably some cyclists who can pass up a small craft brewery that they discover while out riding.  I am not one of them.  I take advantage no matter what time it is, and in this case it was 10:00 a.m.  

There are two truisms about bike tourists: 1) We like to write journals and 2) We like to take pictures of our bikes at points of interest.
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I tried a pint of the Petosi Brewing Company's IPA, fresh as can be, and it was really, really tasty.  I resisted the temptation to have a second one and moved on.

I made it to Dickeyville by 1:30 and got a room at the Plaza Motel for $40 and it was very nice for that price.  Everything was nice today.  How can an entire day go by in which I cannot come up with one negative thing to say--not one complaint or bit of sarcasm?  This is NOT what I signed up for.

Not even the near-wipeout I had coming into town caused me to have any ill-feelings.  I guess I was daydreaming a bit because I didn't notice I was riding close to a little ledge at the edge of the shoulder.  When my front wheel dropped off that ledge I began wobbling in front of the auto traffic, and then I sort of overcompensated by sharply turning my handlebars, spun around about 90-degrees, and came to a complete stop on the shoulder--upright, feet on the ground, and still alive.  I looked at my chest and legs and flexed my elbows and knees.  No injuries.  On the internationally-recognized "Bicycle-Crash-Recovery-Scale," I believe I earned a Nadia Comeneche-like "10."  Embarrassing as it was, I am quite sure the many judges in the cars coming from both directions also gave me a "10."  Except for the Russian judges who only gave me a "7" just because I am an American bicycle-crash-recovery athlete.

The impressive grotto in Dickeyville.
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One of several cheesy statues awkwardly placed amid the painstakingly-constructed stone artwork.
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Today's ride: 34 miles (55 km)
Total: 272 miles (438 km)

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