Good Morning, Lighthouse

I’m groggy as I come to. My eyes are filled with “sleepy dirt,” the vestiges of a restless night spent in a tent. My body craves more rest but my will is stronger. I want to see the sunrise.

Crisp Point Lighthouse sunriseEmerging from the tent I step out into the balmy air, a happy surprise on Lake Superior in mid-September. The sky has just a faint orange tinge in the east. I turn toward the lake and there it is, Crisp Point Lighthouse. Our host for the week. Standing tall and just starting to catch the soft glow of the rising sun it welcomes me yet again.

This is our second stint as volunteer lighthouse keepers here. In return for our light duties we are privileged to be the sole inhabitants of this unspoiled shoreline for five days. We have a campsite for one, miles of Lake Superior beach and our majestic lighthouse.

Crisp Point sunrise over the beachThe visitor center does not open until 10am, leaving us with precious morning hours to commune with this beauty on our own. And so I waste no time in beginning my solo trek down the beach. Heading east, the gray sky gradually lightens to blue and the sun’s brilliance increases. I’m shielded from a direct view of the sunrise by the tree lined shore, which serves to prolong the magic of the sun’s colorful entrance. The action of the waves on the shore is mesmerizing and I am entranced with the fanciful shapes of enormous tree trunks thrown up onto the sand.Crisp Point driftwood

For once there is no hurry in my step. I feel no sense of urgency here, have no destination except forward. Camera in tow, I indulge myself in a few artsy shots. I’m no photographer but it’s a satisfying endeavor.Crisp Point beach reflection

Crisp Point lighthouse through driftwoodYesterday’s visitors reported several moose sightings, including on the beach. I fancy I see a few hoof prints, but my only wildlife encounter is a lone bird.

Molly breakfast on the beachI care about the time only in order to savor my breakfast on the beach. Sensing a few faint hunger pangs, I make my way back to stoke up the camp stove and prepare my coffee and homemade raisin bread toast. It tastes ever so much better perched on a log, my feet planted in sand below the great beacon. Visitors will begin arriving shortly, but for now the view is still all mine. Good morning, lighthouse!Crisp Point sunrise from the tower

Opportunity Cruise

It's not a complete accident that we took that sunset cruise. But it took a lot of fortuitous coincidences to bring not about.

Returning to Crisp Point Lighthouse for our second stint as volunteer keepers, I knew we'd pass Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore en route. I was eager to see the shoreline from the water, but our extra day for exploring had been sacrificed to other commitments at home. Our son, Erik, had just returned from a backpacking and kayaking trip on the area, and his fresh enthusiasm and praise for the scenery unwittingly planted a seed.

With only 30 miles remaining to reach Munising, I gave in to a nascent idea. The weather was so perfect, might there still be a way to see Pictured Rocks after all? Eeking out a cell signal I managed to discover a sunset cruise and confirm that seats were still available. We would arrive in town with barely 40 minutes to spare, but it could work. I wasn't sure Rich shared my enthusiasm enough to jettison our plans for a relaxed salmon dinner in our kitchenette unit. But the photographer in him couldn't resist the late golden glow on a natural landscape. The race was on.

We checked into our motel, dumped our gear and donned warm clothes in record time. We even had enough minutes to spare for Rich to grab a sandwich en route to the dock. As we stepped up to the end of the long line of waiting passengers the boat's doors opened and boarding began.

But we still had one final hurdle to clear. Our captain's first words were a warning. The day's windy conditions had generated 3-4 foot waves and the father out we went the more uncomfortable it would get. Rich looked at me for an answer, as I readily sicken in big swells. However this was my brilliant idea and I wasn't about to give up on it. I declined the offer of a full refund and with that we departed.

Molly on Pictured Rocks cruise

Although I could feel the growing swells and the edges of a familiar queasy sensation, stationing ourselves outside where I could stand and watch the shoreline helped me ignore the pitching of the boat. I was determined to make this work, but really it was Mother Nature who came to my rescue as the winds subsided and we had only rough chop for the remainder of the voyage. My system instantly sensed the change and I rejoiced in knowing I could enjoy the scenery and even take a few photos.

The rear deck turned out to the the ideal spot for viewing. Protected from the wind we staked out a front row position along the railing. It was chilly enough for me to be glad I had brought a hat and gloves and was not too vain to wear them. The outdoor air was refreshing and we could still hear the captain's spiel. Sprinkled with dry humor, he kept us informed as well as entertained with just enough commentary to educate us on what we were seeing.

Pictured Rocks 1
Pictured Rocks 2
Pictured Rocks 3
Pictured Rocks vertical stripes

The scenery did not dissapoint, from the dramatic colors to the uniquely shaped rocks. I was surprised to learn that it was the minerals leaching out of the rocks that “painted” them, as opposed to differing colors in the strata of the earth. That explained why the stripes were vertical not horizontal as I'd expected.

Cruising was all the sweeter for its opportune nature. Evening if we'd planned it, we could never have counted on the perfect evening sunlight. And with each passing moment on our return trip the light became more golden. Those were the best views of all.

Pictured Rocks 5
Pictured Rocks 6
Pictured Rocks 7

Sometimes things just work out for the best. I not only got to see Pictured Rocks and in ththe finest light. That cruise was the perfect opportunity.

 

Work and Play do Mix

My time on Madeline Island is coming to an end. I've had a terrific week at the Madeline Island School of the Arts, taking a writing class from Catherine Watson. But it hasn't been all work and no play. I brought my bike along, and have used it to expore the island in the afternoons. After doing a lot of sitting in class, it has felt great to get out and move, and to enjoy some fresh air.

Madeline Island view

Madeline Island isn't very big. Fourteen miles long and three miles wide, with roads mainly around the perimeter. The good news is that the roads are all bicycle friendly, with bike lanes on the main road and little traffic anywhere. Unfortuntately, even when near the coast the lake views are mostly limited to sneaking peaks through the trees. The one stretch that has a good vista happened to be near my home base, so I passed it often and it became a favorite.

My first exploration led me to Big Bay State Park. There are some great rock formations that can be seen along the shoreline on Big Bay Point, accessible from a short path from the parking lot.

Big Bay State Park

La Pointe is the only town on the island, populated with art galleries, craft shops and some good restaurants. I took in the Art Walk one evening with some fellow writing students and enjoyed browsing the local artists' offerings, followed by dinner overlooking the lake. Going for an early morning bike ride, the ferry harbor and marina were particularly pretty in the low sun.

La Pointe harbor and marina

I had grand designs to circle the entire island on my bike, but discovered that two long road were dirt. Worse yet, they had been freshly graded, making them difficult to traverse. It was rather slow going. I planned an out and back route to the opposite end of the island instead. Stopping in Big Bay Town Park, and spent time on the beach at the opposite end of the bay from the State Park. A long boardwalk paralleled the beach, and although I didn't have time to cover the distance, it appeared that there was a trail all the way back to Big Bay Point. Instead, I hung out on the beach for a while, watching the waves roll in.

Big Bay Town Park

By now I feel like I've covered all the important points on the island, just in time to head home. And I've made good use of my exploration time as well. I get a lot of thinking time when I'm cycling, which I've used to come up with topics for my assignments, and have just the right word I'd been seeking pop into my head for an essay. So it's been a good mix of work and play this week.

 

Credit Card Cycle Touring

I thought that cycle touring reduced life to its simplest elements. But I've just discovered an even more streamlined way to cycle. Have credit card, will travel.

Rather than loading up our panniers and schlepping camping gear, for this tour we used only our day bags and brought minimal goods. A change of underwear, toothbrush and t-shirt and shorts were the basics. I threw in a cycling jacket, which I was glad to have for the cooler mornings. The bulk of the weight came from the camera, smartphone and tablet we each carried, and a few bike tools. That – and our credit card – was it.

Map of Wisconsin River tour

This approach is best suited to short trips, so Rich came up with a two-day out-and-back route along the Wisconsin River for this inaugural voyage. Starting in Bridgeport, near Prairie du Chien, our destination was Spring Green, 60 miles away. We had our choice of roads on each side of the river, and sampled some of each. While it would have been nice to make it a circle tour, we quickly learned that some roads were best avoided and others bore repeating. So we sashayed across the river and back.

Logistics were super easy. Staying at the Captain's Cove Motel in Bridgeport before and after the trip, gave us a place to leave our car. Not only that, but they allowed us to leave all our non-cycling gear in the motel room, and even offered to come get us should we have problems en route. True hospitality. At the other end, a motel room awaited us in Spring Green. In between, all we had to do was cycle.

Farm south of the river

As usual, Rich picked an excellent route. Not only was it scenic, but the roads were good for cycling. It helped that we were traveling mid-week, reducing the traffic. Although we followed the Wisconsin River, there were actually limited sections in which we could see the river. But even away from the water, we rode through beautiful farmland with prosperous looking farms and healthy green crops. This is called the “Driftless Area” because the glaciers missed it when moving through the rest of the Midwest. So it is largely rolling with long tree covered ridges and bluffs.

Molly at the Unique Cafe

With so little gear, packing and unpacking took only minutes. We were able to hit the road by 6:30 each morning with ease. Following our preferred style of cycle touring, we put in a good 20 miles before stopping for breakfast. Our favorite venue was the Unique Café in Boscobel, which was filled with memorabilia and still kept its old style charm. We were impressed with how vibrant all the towns were along the river, offering interesting places to explore or pretty parks where we happily rested.

Rich and the big hill

For the most part, the cycling was fairly easy. We had one big hill at the start of the first day, which I managed to block from my memory until our return. The second encounter was far worse, coming after 50 miles already and when the sun was very toasty. That was one long incline I was glad to complete. Rich liked it even less. My favorite stretches were on the small back roads. Armed with my favorite paper map in front me, I spotted a quiet alternate road on the way back. It stayed at the base of the hills and wound through quiet woods and farmland. That was a good find.

Our early starts and rapid progress gave us plenty of time to explore along the way. Naturally, Rich had his eye out for birds, but I was actually the one who spied the Trumpter Swan family. He still got the best photo, though.

Trumpeter Swans
No cycling trip would be complete without at least one “purple cow” – I made friends with this crazy cyclist along the way.
Molly and a crazy cyclist

I couldn't go to Spring Green without visiting something belonging to Frank Lloyd Wright. So while Rich rested in the motel room I set out on my bike once again. Not having the time for a house tour of Taliesin, I made do with the visitor center that he designed, and tried to get a glimpse of his house from the road.

Frank Lloyd Wright Visitor Center

And just to prove that we actually were near the river…

Along the Wisconsin River

We both agree, this was a most successful experiment. We brought just the right stuff, enjoyed cycling without heavily laden bikes, and appreciated the freedom. We're not ready to give up our long tours, but we'll be credit card touring again, for sure.

 

 

The Joys of Home

BlueBonnet

Spring North Cycling Tour

Life on a bicycle is the ultimate in simplicity.  And coming to the end of a cycling tour always evokes mixed emotions.  I’m sad to see the daily cycling end, leave behind the days of being outdoors all day and finish our 12mph sightseeing.  But once back in the car with home looming ahead, it is ever so alluring.  Now that we’re home again, there are so many simple pleasures to enjoy.

  • Sleeping in my own bed.  No more bouncy motel beds, noisy air conditioners or too-thin camping mats for a while.  This is where I sleep best.
  • Choosing and making my own food.  The first thing I did when we got home was to fire up my bread machine to make a loaf of 100% whole wheat cinnamon bread.  Toasted and slathered with peanut butter, it’s the best breakfast food ever.  You don’t find that on any restaurant menus.  And I had to shop at Trader Joe’s on the way home.  Just because I could.
  • Getting reacquainted with my wardrobe.  Clothing choices return!  I’m no longer limited to the one set of “civilian” clothes in my panniers.  Oh, what to wear?
  • Housekeeping.  There is a place for everything with plenty of room left over.  Drawers and cupboards are great inventions.  No packing up each morning.  No squeezing air out of zip lock bags.  No checking for items left behind.  It’s all right here.
  • Driving a car.  I can now cover 30 miles in 1/2 an hour instead of 1/2 a day.  I can pack it full of groceries, and not even care if it’s raining.  Novel.
  • Just hanging out.  I lingered over my coffee and toast this morning. Sitting by the fireplace (yes, it’s cold in Minnesota), iPad on my lap, I thoroughly read all the local news.  No need to hurry to be anywhere at all.
  • Weighing in.  This is the fun part.  Cycle touring is the best fitness plan ever.  I dropped 8 pounds and definitely toned up.  Without even trying.
  • Reconnecting with family and friends. We stayed in touch virtually over the last 6 weeks, but there is no substitute for the real thing.  Being with them is best of all.

Of course all the usual trappings of home life also await.  My to-do list is already getting longer, I have meetings to attend and material to read.  There are clothes to wash and dishes to be done, but I now have machines for those tasks.

After five weeks of cycling to follow the Spring North, it appears we finally overshot it.  The leaves are just beginning to pop out on the tree limbs in Duluth, my garden is barely starting to show life and morning temperatures are just into the 40s.  I’ve had to dig out my jeans and sweaters again.  But it will be sweet when spring finally blossoms here too.

Oh, it’s a joy to be home.

The Fender Finish

Final Totals: 34 days, 1521 miles

After 33 days on our cycling tour we had yet to get significantly wet. In fact we only had rain on 4 days. And for all of those we were able to wait it out or take cover. That was all about to change for our final day on the bikes.

Given a decent weather forecast, we were willing to hang in our B&B for another day. It wouldn’t have taken much arm twisting. But the rain looked to continue for days, with some potential storms. So after our leisurely gourmet breakfast and pleasant conversation with the other guests, we returned to the Katy Trail to complete our trip.

Leaving Clay House

We weren’t even out of the front garden before the first light drops began to fall. Ignoring the obvious, we forged on in oddly good humor. Knowing we had only 28 miles to cover was helpful. We were also glad to see that the trail was in good shape. Being closer to St. Louis and getting higher usage, it was more firmly packed and resisted the rain longer.

Even when the precipitation increased to a legitimate rainfall, we resisted putting on our rain jackets. It was still warm, and as long as we could avoid sporting rain gear we were able to deny the reality of our situation. The trees formed a nice canopy over our heads, providing some measure of protection. It really wasn’t all that bad. And we continually repeated our mantra, “Thank heavens for our new fenders.”

Leaving the garden center

With 20 miles behind us, Rich called a time out. There was a garden center across the way and he proposed that we put on dry shirts and our rain jackets before crossing the high bridge over the Missouri River. By then, it seemed a reasonable idea.

Once off the bikes, we were able to survey the morning’s handiwork. Our bikes and legs sported a good deal of Katy Trail mud, but we would have been far wetter and dirtier without the protection of those fenders.

Dirty bikes

It wasn’t until I donned my alternate jersey that I realized that I was in fact chilled, and it felt oh so good to be dry. To add to our comfort, we found that there was a little café inside which served a delicious hot quiche. It was a very welcome snack break.

Bridge across the Missouri River

Fortified with food, warmth and rain protection we resumed cycling. We had planned to cycle to St. Charles and spend time in that attractive town, but discarded that idea because of the rain. Instead we proceeded directly across the bridge that would take us to Creve Coeur Park, our final destination. Winding our way through the park, we just happened to find the Lakeside Café. No sooner had we ducked under the front porch when the rain came down in buckets. But that no longer mattered, we were finished!

We were happy to wait under the front porch for my cousin to pick us up, but the staff wouldn’t hear of it. Even though they were closed and setting up for a wedding, they invited us inside and opened up the bar for us. Rich had a celebratory glass of Chardonnay while we happily chatted with the workers.

Spring North Tour finish
It was a successful completion of the Spring North Cycling tour. And what would spring be without rain showers? Somehow the fender finish seemed fitting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On and Off the Katy Trail

Rain delay

I really wanted to stay longer. Our wonderful Warm Showers hosts in Hermann – particularly the kids – had encouraged us to extend our stay, and it was such an attractive offer. But Rich was dutifully watching the weather and thought it best that we head out right after breakfast. As luck would have it, the rain started just as he brought the bikes around. Before we even got them loaded, it was raining hard. Oh, too bad – a rain delay! We were going to be off the Katy trail for a while by the looks of the weather map. It turned out to be a delightful morning.

Heading out with Keely and the girls, we got a wonderful insider’s view of Hermann. Our first stop was Espresso Laine. I was able to indulge in a latte and we sipped drinks in the attractive local coffee shop while the rain came down. Next we dashed into the new leather goods shop owned by a friend of theirs. We were fascinated by the extensive equipment in the back room and learn a bit about how shoe repair is done. And I enjoyed admiring the beautiful leather purses up front. It was true craftsmanship in the works.

Morning in Hermann
Julie in her kitchen

Next door we visited a “federally approved kitchen,” which was particularly significant. Three years ago, then 8-year-old Julie set out to help her dad fund a mission trip to Africa. Unbeknownst to him, she began making toffee (which he’d taught her to make) and sold enough batches to surprise him with enough funds to pay for his plane ticket! It has since grown into a true commercial enterprise, called Toffee on the Run, which she continues to run today with support from her family. It was fun to see where produces her toffee and learn more about her company. She is an amazing young woman.

Shortly after lunch, the rain seemed to be letting up. Rich declared that there was enough of a window for us to attempt to reach Augusta, although there were no firm promises of staying dry. We loaded up the bicycles, said our goodbyes, and were off – back on the Katy Trail once more.

With plenty of rain overnight and all morning, the trail was soft and the going was tough in places. Discovering that highway 94 paralleled the trail, Rich proposed that we take advantage of the smooth pavement and ditch the trail for that portion. Ever the purist, I wouldn’t hear of it, so we slogged on. After all, we’d planned to do the whole Katy Trail. By the next time we crossed the road, Rich had had enough. We were moving to the highway. Much to my dismay, we were off the Katy Trail again. Grumbling and complaining, I followed him down the road.

It just so happened that Rich had chosen the portion of the road that was inland from the Missouri River. On the bluff side. We barely rounded the corner before we were faced with our first hill. And it was a steep one. That was followed by a swift downhill and even higher, longer uphill. And the sequence repeated itself. Again and again, for several miles. I kept my mouth shut. For “Him who Hates Hills” it was a bitter pill to swallow. When we came upon a road that led back to the trail, Rich put up no argument. We were soon back on the Katy Trail.

With dark clouds behind us, we were eager to make tracks and beat the rain. By that point, our feud was over and I had to admit that Rich did have some logic. So we bounced back and forth between road and trail beyond that point, but only when the road lay between the trail and the river.

On and off Katy Trail

We made Augusta by late afternoon, and still dry! There was a quick shower shortly after we reached the trailhead, but even that let up by the time we headed to our lodging. Once again we were truly blessed in our timing.

With this being the last night of our trip, we justified staying at a posh B&B called the Clay House. Returning later after dinner, it was particularly attractive in the evening light, so Rich returned outside to capture the beauty of the moment. Off the Katy Trail.

Clay House in Augusta

Friends on the Katy Trail

Perhaps the first indication that this was not going to be a normal day of cycling was the roadblock. Cows. Right in the middle of the trail. They looked friendly enough, but did not seemed inclined to budge. They meandered, munched, and checked us out. Rich finally ventured forward but that didn’t even faze them. They ran ahead of us and eventually exited the trail to return to their field, graciously allowing us to pass.

Cows on Katy Trail

The second clue was hearing my phone ring, which was unusual. It was our friends Carl and Connie from the Twin Cities. They were camping at Lake of the Ozarks and were already en route to the Katy Trail with their bikes. Where were we, and could we meet up? To be fair, it wasn’t 100% out of the blue. We had traded Facebook comments about being close by. Soon we had plans to cycle toward each other.

Cycling on from Booneville we encountered the only railway tunnel on the trail just before Rochport. There were loads of people out walking, which was a surprise as until that point we’d seen few people at all on the trail. It became apparent why they’d chosen that area as it was very scenic. Not far beyond, the bluffs rose well above the trees and we heard a bunch of geese making an awful racket. They were nesting in the crevices on the face of the bluff.

Katy Trail Tunnel

Shortly after that we saw familiar faces approaching. Sure enough, it was Carl and Connie. They turned around and cycled with us for a good distance. Cycling two by two down the trail, we had a great time catching up on each other’s vacations while the miles quickly slipped by. Searching for a café for lunch turned out to be an exercise in frustration (and hunger) as Wednesday just happened to be the closing day in that area. So when we saw the sign for Chim’s Thai Kitchen, we had low expectations. Discovering that the lowly trailer business was indeed open, we were all in. The fact that Rich does not care for Thai food was irrelevant. Despite some language difficulties and a strong-willed proprietress, we managed to place our orders. To our amazement, the food was very good. Even Rich agreed. I have witnesses, and will remind him next time I want to go out for Thai.

Katy Trail Thai lunch

With farewells to the Minnesota folks, we headed for North Jefferson City. There we made new friends when we were picked up by Kent, who is the brother of our friends on Duluth. Having heard about our cycling tour, he and his wife Marna kindly offered to host us for a night. Kent ferried us to their home in Fulton, passing the spot where Winston Churchhill made his Iron Curtain speech. We had a lovely visit with them, trading travel stories and desires for future destinations. We hope they will make a trip to Duluth soon.

Breakfast with Palmers

Breaking out of the mold of just cycling as a duo with only each other for company was refreshing. Who knew we had friends on the Katy Trail?

Heading down the Katy Trail

We chose the Katy Trail as the finale of our Spring North Tour. Not only would it conveniently return us to St. Louis and reconnect us with our car, but we suspected that finishing with a flat, dedicated bike trail would be a nice way to ease ourselves to the finish.

Starting the Katy Trail

The Katy trail stretches 240 miles across Missouri and is the longest rails-to-trails project in the country. We started at Clinton, its westernmost terminus, and headed east. Using our normal mileages, we calculated that four days would be enough to complete the trail. But after the first day or so, we quickly adjusted our plans to add an extra day. It didn’t make sense to rush through – the trail is designed so that cyclists can enjoy the many towns along the way. That appealed to me, and even after slowing down I wished we’d left more time to explore.

Highest point on Katy Trail

From Clinton to Booneville, the trail angles to the northeast heading to the Missouri River. Although railroad beds are known for being very flat, we were surprised to find that there was actually quite a bit of elevation change in that section. It was all very gradual, but we did reach the highest point of the trail. Rich seemed to think it was quite a climb!

The trail surface is crushed limestone. For the most part, it is very well maintained and rough spots are very well marked. It makes for good cycling, but it does take its toll. It’s not like rolling over smooth pavement where it is easy to gain momentum and glide along. The rougher limestone takes more effort, costing us a gear or two, and even with 1400 miles behind us we could feel that extra work by the end of the day.

Katy Trail

The surroundings of the trail changed frequently. At times it was out in the wide open, surrounded by farm fields and flat land. In some areas they were working to restore the prairie grasses. Other times there were trees lining the trail, which were a welcome wind break for us. Best of all were the wooded sections, with thick undergrowth and trees that stretched to meet over our heads forming a tunnel.

We were still being treated to an abundance of wild flowers, and my eyes were glued to the sides of the trail searching out different varieties throughout the day.

Katy Trail wildflowers

There are still reminders of the Katy Railroad along the trail. Old switch boxes and signals are visible, and the truss bridges now carry cyclists across the frequent steams and rivers. A few of the beautiful old depots still stand, frequently serving as information centers at the trail heads. And caboose cars are also popular fixtures in some of the towns.

Katy trail

It makes for a nice change from navigating the roads, figuring out directions and dealing with cars. But one thing doesn’t change. Even heading down the Katy Trail, there’s nothing like ice cream at the end of the day.

Ice cream on Katy Trail

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Opportunity Knocks

Progress to date: 29 days, 1,280 miles

When I clip into my bicycle pedals each morning, I have no idea what is in store for me. Sometimes the days are pretty ordinary, and on others things happen that I could never have foreseen. Those are the times to seize the moment.

Having left the Ozark Mountains behind, our route took us north through the western side of Missouri to begin the Katy Trail. There were no particular sights on our itinerary at this stage. But traveling the back roads being propelled by the same south wind that plagued us early in the trip was extremely pleasant.

After a morning breakfast stop in Cassville, we expected to hit the road again. But a sign reading “Car Show” soon diverted us. There lining the streets of the town were rows of classic cars. It was a sunny warm day, and strolling along looking at the cars was extremely pleasant. I didn’t have to be a car fan to enjoy the spirit of the moment and the festive air in the small town gathering. A group of young people were playing fiddling music, which added to the ambiance. It felt great to be in the right place at the right time to partake of this show.

Cassville Car Show
Parachutist

That very same afternoon, pedaling along an undistinguished section of road, Rich suddenly began gesturing toward the sky. There we saw a parachutist just about to land. Not long after his colorful chute collapsed on the ground, I spotted a second one in the air. This time we were able to get our cameras out in time. We happily hung out on the roadside to watch the second one descend, which turned out to be a pair of jumpers. Their target was actually an airfield, and the small plane land soon after they did. It was quite the air show!

Rich at the campground restaurant

Sometimes opportunities are of a very different nature. One of Rich’s prime adages about cycle touring has to do with meals. “When food is available, EAT!” is his motto. It’s a lesson he’s learned the hard way, when we’ve come up hungry by incorrectly assuming food will be available when we want it. So when we arrived at our campground at 2:00 in the afternoon and discovered the only restaurant within miles was about to close, we quickly ordered meals. Never mind that Rich had just consumed a burger and fries an hour before, and I’d downed an ice cream cone. This was our dinner – just way early. Oddly enough, it tasted great and carried us through the entire evening.

We camped on a yurt that night by the Sac River. I wandered down to the river as I explored the area and saw a dam and a bridge just upstream. Looking more closely, I noticed some young men fishing with a net. I was memorized watching them throw the net and reel it in – an entirely different way of fishing than I was used to seeing. I’m still working on my photography skills, so I took the chance to practice and was pleased to be able to capture the whole sequence.

Fishing
Campfire

I love campfires, but there’s no chance of carrying firewood on a bicycle. So when the campground caretaker showed up at our yurt with a load of firewood, it was a gift too good to turn down. He even gave us his lighter to start the fire. Soon I was off in search of kindling and donated my old maps to the cause. The evening was mild and dark, and as we sat on the extra logs by the fire we could see the full moon rising behind the trees. The crackling of the fire was accompanied by frogs croaking by the river.

Tomorrow’s another day on the bicycle. I wonder what new opportunities might be in store for me?