Cheating the Matriarch

Once again we woke up to rain, and once again we decided to cheat the rain by leaving late. In doing so we are also cheating the family matriarch, who correctly predicted that this would be a rainy spring and summer, but who failed to predict the lengths we would go to in order to avoid riding in rain.

Not only was it raining, the temperature was in the low 60s. In Florida this might occaisionally happen in January, but day or night time temperatures below 80 are unheard of in July.

Team S was ready for any weather, as long as they could stay inside.

We were staying at the Blue Moon resort in Hill City, MN. They offered a 12:00 checkout from our rooms, but noon came and went with no let up in the rain. The Blue Moon owners, Randy and Tami, generously let us wait out the rain in their lodge. Not only that, but Randy drove Kerry into town to pick up lunch for us while we were hiding from the elements.

Lunch is served while the rain continues.

Sometime after 3:00 the rain stopped and a sliver of blue sky appeared. This was our cue to hit the road. We had less than 40 miles to cover and 6 hours of daylight left.

Kerry put on his winter socks to brave the elements.

Although it was a short ride, we crossed two significant landmarks. First was the Mississippi River. We've crossed it many times this week, but this was the last time we will see the river on this trip.

Crossing the Mississippi for the last time.

A few miles later we crossed the continental divide into the Lake Superior watershed.

This time we were crossing the St. Lawrence divide.

For the second day in a row we saw no corn fields. We saw a mixture of forest land and open meadows. I don't know if the meadows are the result of logging, forest fires, or some other factor. There was evidence of fires, and there was some logging going on, so maybe it was a combination.

In the southeast US logging trucks carry logs stacked lengthwise on the truck bed. In Minnesota they cut the logs into shorter lengths and stack them cross ways on the truck bed.

Grassland. A camera shy otter was playing in the water.

Our journey ended in Floodwood, Minnesota. Floodwood is known as the catfish capital of the world (at least to the guy who painted the Floodwood water tower).

Proof that Floodwood is the catfish capital of the world.

Floodwood sits where the East Savannah River flows into the St. Louis River. Although the East Savannah River is small, it provided a vital link for North West company fur traders to get their canoes from Lake Superior to the Mississippi River. Crossing the divide was easy on a bike. It would have been more work to portage a canoe, but those voyageurs were tough customers.

Bowzer was one of the few non-friendly dogs we have met on this trip.

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