June 21, 2016
I Am One Of THEM
Itasca State Park, Minnesota
The days are long this time of year and the sun never seems to set. Actually, it sets somewhere around 9:15 p.m., but I never seem to be able to stay up that late. Last night, with the aid of a co-ed league softball game in the Bagley City Park, I stayed awake long enough to see my first sunset on this trip.
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Going back to the softball game, I was probably the only spectator who wasn't a family member, but I had fun watching and it sure looked like the players were having fun playing. Some of the players on both teams were very good and some of them were pretty bad, but nobody bitched at anybody else about an error or a strikeout, nobody argued with the umpire about his bad calls, and there was generally more laughing going on than sweating and complaining, which put this game on a higher level than the average Little League Baseball or youth hockey game. Had it not been for that game, I would have been in my tent by 8:00.
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I knew I had a short day ahead of me, so I made an extra cup of coffee and took my time packing up. Then I lingered around the town of Bagley, cruising the downtown and visiting the grocery store before heading south on MN Highway 92.
It was a near-perfect day--sunny and cool, pretty scenery, and even a few rolling hills for the first time in several days. No major climbs, mind you, but just enough to make me change a few gears once in a while.
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I could not believe that river is the same one I saw in Louisiana on last year's bike trip. Here it would barely support a canoe; down there huge ocean-going ships can easily pass each other in opposite directions.
After that crossing, I had renewed excitement to get to the very source of the Great American River in Itasca State Park. Once I got there, I biked straight to the headwaters area and came to a huge parking lot. Just beyond the lot was a building that housed a gift shop, a restaurant, an information center, and restrooms. There were hundreds of people milling about. I skipped all that crap and headed to the hiking trail that would lead me to the Mississippi River headwaters.
The trail was an . . . um . . . let me start over. It was absolutely . . . damn . . . one more try. I . . . it . . . the trail was . . .abomination
I'm sorry, I can't put the shock into words. What I had hoped would be a somewhat challenging footpath that such a significant site deserves turned out to be a 600-foot long, 12-foot wide, manicured, crushed gravel mini-highway. There were 2-year olds and 90-year olds and even a woman in a wheel chair hiking to the headwaters. And, just to show you how tuned-in the state park system is to the impatience of the average tourist, they posted signs along the trail. "Headwaters 600 feet." "Headwaters 450 feet." "Headwaters 300 feet." "Headwaters 150 feet."
Here I was--one of them--feeling somewhat ashamed. The last time I felt so much like a tourist was when I was cycling past Niagara Falls. But at least in that case I knew what I was in for.
Despite all that, I did my duty and waded across the very beginning of the Mississippi River.
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Notwithstanding everything I just said, I really did like most of the park. I got a decent campsite because when I told the ranger to pick out a good site for me she said, "You seem like a nice guy, I'll put you in #78." I took that to mean crabby people get assigned to smaller, less private sites with no view. I also like the bike trails and the general bicycling culture here.
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I finished my day by laying on the top of my campsite's picnic table, listening to the hapless Minnesota Twins game on my tiny transistor radio, and munching on Cheetos.
Today's ride: 35 miles (56 km)
Total: 989 miles (1,592 km)
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