Now from Minnesota! (Day 11)

, 5 min, 836 words

Tags: biking transamerica-2021

Greetings from Minnesota, friends! I crossed the Mississippi this afternoon and am spending the night at Afton State Park, which has many things to recommend it, including plumbed toilets, a biker-specific campsite, and swimming in the river! And let me tell you, cooling off in a chilly river after a long day of biking is pretty ideal.

Before I go any further, a note from some (not actual) sponsors:

  • Bald eagles. Practically a dime a dozen in this section of the country, and incredibly majestic. Bald eagles: if they can find a picture-perfect perch, they will.
  • Wisconsin cheese curds: squeaky delicious.
  • A household that really likes skis: because why not? (This is just a third of their ski fence)
A yard and fence. The fence is made of wood, like normal fences, but also lined with dozens of pairs of skis of different lengths.
  • Sore legs. Cuz even after all this time, these hills are still beating me up. Sore legs: you'd think they'd be stronger by now.

Anyway, the last two days, since La Crosse, have been lovely. The weather has held up, though it's definitely getting a bit warm in the afternoons. I've mostly been on Wisconsin's Great River Road, a truly delightful scenic road that manages to show off pretty topography without forcing you to ride up it, and which has consistently excellent shoulder space. It also, like much of my route thus far, passes through fabulous small towns. Some recent highlights:

  • The biggest cinnamon roll I've ever seen, from a little bakery in Fountain City, if I recall correctly. Don't worry, I managed to finish it without outside assistance.
A very large cinnamon roll, wrapped in aluminum foil
  • Pepin, the birthplace of Laura Ingalls Wilder (author of Little House on the Prarie, among other works) and home to at least two related museums. Alas, I passed through too early this morning to avail myself of the lovely-looking bakery or historic sites.
  • A little locally-owned bar just past Stockholm, WI (not to be confused with the European city), which features a sign stating "We don't have wifi – you'll have to talk to each other".

And this afternoon, as I was winding down and starting to fade from a long day of riding, I passed a small church building with beautiful music coming out of it. The fence out front had a big "LOVE LIVES HERE" banner with inclusive symbols, and the front door was open, so I set my bike against a wall and stepped inside. Turns out it was a sound test for Sunday's congregation. I met Father Scott, who has preached at the church for nearly 15 years, and who since the death of the congregation's organist has taken up organ generator programming to provide delightful music for hymns and such. We had a lovely conversation about the building (original, first built in the late 1800s), the congregation (30-50 people), and what it means to be inclusive in 2021. It was fabulous to have a real conversation with a friendly human, and sure helped me feel more at home in Minnesota.

A decorative fence in front of a small church building. The fence has a large sign saying LOVE LIVES HERE with a variety of inclusive symbols, including diverse skin colors, a rainbow heart, a black power fist, an interracial marriage heart-shaped fingerprint, and a globe.
The interior of a small church – capacity about 80 people, with stained glass windows along the sides and straight ahead

And lucky me, I get to keep riding across Minnesota for the next week!

In no particular order and with severe bandwidth limitations, a couple of scenic pics and selfies chosen at random because I need to head to sleep.

Gorgeous view from my campsite – a bluff rises up from grassy and forested flat areas. A shadow stretches upward towards the bluff. In the distance, a small tent (mine) can be seen.
View of the river, through miscellaneous greenery and with two rows of forested hills on the other shore
Zeph, in sunglasses, reflective vest, and helmet, in front of that same view

With zzzzzzs,
Zeph