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The kids and I rode to Duluth.
We set out Monday morning and arrived Tuesday evening, having overnighted in Hinckley. I am writing these entries the following weekend, but posting them with the dates we rode. I kept track of where we were at the top of each hour. Ladle in some photos and here's how it went.
Me and my Atlantis. I got this frame in April, completed the buildout in June and just really like it a lot. This is a real relief as it's not a cheap bike, at least for me (though I see racing bikes in the local bike stores going to two and three times as much). It is a touring frame, made for long hours in the saddle over many miles carrying a substantial load. In this case, the load isn't that substantial; my wife Karla was going to spend a couple of days at the Dwelling in the Woods and then join us in Duluth, so was bringing nice clothes, extra underwear, etc. All we needed was cycling clothes, swimsuits and street clothes to get us from Monday morning through Wednesday afternoon, for which I figured a pannier each was plenty. I carried two of the panniers and a front bag, the tools and the pumps (I have this Zefal frame pump but don't like it much, so carried along the Blackburn Mammoth as well). I'm riding Rivendell's 700C X 28 Roly Poly tires.
Henry, aged 13, rode on his circa-1984 Trek 620 touring bike, updated as I've noted in other entries in the blog. His bike, a 24" frame, is the lightest of our three bikes. Henry carried his own pannier and a rack-top bag. He's also on 700C X 28 tires, some Michelins in his case.
Geneva, aged 11, rode a Novarra mountain bike. We got this for Henry three years ago. When we did Youth Cycling League last summer (2004), Henry proved nearly as fast as the kids on nice road bikes despite the beefy frame, knobby tires and suspension fork. To speed him up a bit, I put on higher pressure smooth-treaded 26 X 1.5 tires, and they're still on there. As the youngest rider and least-suitable bike, Geneva carried only a front bag with her own stuff in it (digital camera, rain jacket, Clif bars). This bike is Aluminum and presumably light but the downtube could be the mainspar of a jet and the whole thing is pretty beefy. We have a YCL Bianchi road bike she could have taken but she was not interested in it.
Here are all three of us!
8:56 We set off.
In a good indication, we hadn't gone more than a couple of hundred yards when Geneva turned to me and said, "Dad, you rock! This is going to be so fun!". Karla stood under a tree and watched us ride off.
9:00 Chatsworth and Roselawn, 0.6 miles
Geneva needs to stop and tuck in her shoelaces, which are snagging her chainring. The route we followed was one outlined by Dan, who did Duluth in a day in July 2004. We rode up Victoria, past Lake Owasso, over I-694 on Rice Street, then on Vadnais Boulevard, Centerville Road, the Goose Lake Road through the Gem Lake golf course where Henry and I played golf each Thursday all summer, and north on Otter Lake road.
10:00 Highway 96 and Otter Lake Road, 11.1 miles
We'd had bagels for breakfast. Henry said he was hungry. We decided to stop and have a snack when a suitable spot came along.
10:18 - 10:27 First break, by Otter Lake, eat a Clif bar each.
11:00 in Hugo, MN at Subway, getting sandwiches. 19.6 miles.
I had neglected to bring a map with me for the first day's riding. In Hugo, I couldn't remember how far it was to the next town and there was a Subway right there, so we ordered sandwiches to take with us. We also got a couple of quarts of Gatorade, divvied up into water bottles, and some Peanut M&Ms at a gas station across the highway, then set off up Washington County's Hardwood Creek Regional Trail. This trail is on an abandoned railway right of way paralleling Highway 61. The weather was gorgeous, the winds generally light out of the WNW, so only slightly a headwind.
I'd bought Geneva some Andiamos (or similar) underwear to wear under any trousers and make them like bike shorts. I had also got her a pair of baggy black bike shorts. Ever the thorough girl, she was wearing regular undies, the Andiamos and the cycling shorts. "I like lots of padding, Daddy". Well, north of Hugo the wisdom of my recommendation to wear just the cycling shorts or the Andiamos and not ever the regular undies began to become clear. She was complaining and I said she could change right here on the trail--there was nobody in sight, there were groves of trees and bushes shielding the road and Henry and I could stand looking the other way. She decided this sounded good and we did it, mirrors folded up, arms folded across our chest while Geneva switched down to just cycling shorts. Much better! she announced. We rode on.
12:00 South outskirts of Forest Lake 26.5 miles
12:10 - 12:50 shores of Forest Lake for lunch, 28.2 miles.
Just north of Forest Lake we entered Chisago County and the trail became the Sunset Prairie Trail. The trail was pretty nice. On an early Monday afternoon there were hardly any other trail users and we could ride two abreast. I took some pictures along the way.
Geneva sometimes wore her hair in a pony tail and at other times let it hang loose so it would fly back and show how fast she was. For a while along here we maintained a 14 mph cruising speed.
1:00 southern Chisago County, 30.7 miles
1:35 - 1:45 Stacy playground, 37 miles, nearly halfway. These small-town playgrounds still have merry-go-rounds, which the kids love, and they frolicked on the one here for a few minutes. There was a milling plant across the road giving off the smell of muffins. They also had this Space Shutte plaything in the playground.
2:00 north of Stacy on Sunset Prairie trail, 40 miles
2:40 in North Branch, end of trail, 45.2 miles.
The trail comes to an abrupt end in North Branch. We rode over a few blocks to a Casey's convenience store for more Gatorade and peanut M&Ms. Hurrican Katrina was pounding the Gulf, we're fighting a war in Iraq, Peak Oil is approaching and gas is $2.50 a gallon, but the citizens of North Branch aren't concerned. When we pulled up there was a ratty station wagon sitting empty but idling at the curb. A worn, scrawny middle-aged woman came out of the store, got in and drove off. A big Dodge Turbo-Diesel pickup pulled up in the space and the driver got out and went in the store, also leaving his engine running. Maybe they're proud of the low crime or something. I guess I'd turn my car off before going in (and it was about 75 degrees and there were no kids or animals in the vehicles that needed to be kept cool, it was just some pointless and thoughtless oil consumption). I was interested to see that North Branch has a Municipal Liquor Store. Some interesting Big Brother aspects there.
Our path would now take us up the old Highway 61 (the one Bob Dylan revisited) but which now has several different identities. Out of North Branch it is Chisago County 30, and off up this road we went, riding on the shoulder.
3:00 north of North Branch on County 30, 47.5 miles
It was pretty busy for a while. We generally went single file with me in back in my high-visibility Crash Test Dummy jersey.
We got to the 50-mile mark for the day at 3:15. Henry was ahead a ways but Geneva and I were rolling down a gentle hill on the southern outskirts of Harris. I yelled to her that we were right at 50 miles from home and she stood up on her pedals and waggled her bottom in celebration. We stopped for a quick Butt Break in Harris, then pressed on.
Henry's bike fell over off the kickstand and the pannier came off during our Butt Break in Harris. Geneva snapped this photo of him on her Canon A85 as he re-attached it.
4:00 Highway 30, southern outskirts of Rush City, 58 miles
We stopped for another Clif bar in Rush City, sitting in the shade next to their City Hall and swimming pool. We were feeling pretty pooped at this point, especially Geneva. We did a potty and Gatorade break at a gas station and I looked at a map to see what town was next and how far it was. I need to bring my own map next time! The highway became 361 north of Rush City. We also passed a Minnesota Correction Facility, visible in the fields just to the east.
5:00 on Highway 361 in southern Pine county, 62.5 miles
The shoulder suddenly improved at the county line. This was a relief. We were slogging along in this stretch. I decided later that Geneva's metabolism is different than Henry's and mine and that she was possibly bonking in here. Fatherly words of encouragement and a hug seemed to help plus I think the snacks kicked in.
6:00 in Pine City, 68.4 miles
North of Pine City the road got less busy but the shoulder remained in good shape. It's flat through here, something of a relief, and we plugged along with renewed good spirits, making up new words to the Beverly Hillbillys theme song.
You can see the good-sized, good-condition shoulder. Also, the drivers are being very respectful here. I was fiddling with the camera while riding and hadn't bellowed at the children to go single file, the overtaking car is giving us room and the oncoming car has moved over to give him room. With the exception of one pickup of yokels near Rush City who yelled at Geneva and I and threw a ball at Henry, half a mile or more ahead, we had no motorist problems.
We were cruising along about 6:15 on the highway once again known as 61. There was little traffic. As the day got later the shadows got longer and longer. As we went north we rode by a sheep farm with a flock of very vocal sheep who bleated away at us as we passed. There must have been a hole in the fence as there was a group of sheep munching the grass in the ditch on the west side of the road. In a car, I might have pulled up to the farmhouse nearby and told them about the roaming sheep and maybe helped them herd them back in which might have been good fun, but it was getting late, the sun was getting very low and I didn't want to get stuck out here in the dark.
7:00 Highway 61 over I-35, just south of Hinckey, 79.0 miles.
Just south of Hinckley, Highway 61 curves west over Interstate 35. Just after you go over that bridge there's a right turn onto Highway 23 into Hinckley.
We rode north up Highway 23 and saw a sign on the adjacent Interstate 35 that gave us much joy:
Hinckley one and three-quarter miles! Even so, our sore bottoms needed a rest.
Henry seemed best-adjusted to his seat, or at least complained the least, and just waited by a sign for us.
Geneva may have had the least-comfortable seat. You know it's bad when a concrete highway bridge is more soothing than her saddle after 80 miles.
Geneva asked me to flex my muscles so she could take a shot. Gotta remember to suck in my gut next time! I've ridden more than 100 miles with a fully-loaded bike over hilly terrain in the past, so 80 miles on a lightly-loaded bike on flat land doesn't amount to much, but I don't think I've ridden more than 50 miles in a day in more than 20 years so even I am happy. My achievement is much more modest than the childrens'; I at least knew what we were in for.
We cruised happily into Hinckley in the deepening shadows. Geneva in particular was very proud and happy; she had had a miserable few miles a couple of hours before but now all doubts about her ability to make it were gone. She had briefly entertained the idea of contacting Karla and getting picked up, but now that she'd made Hinckley she was determined to make it to Duluth tomorrow. We turned east onto Highway 48 which took us across Interstate 35, executed a left turn in traffic and rode into the Days Inn parking lot and up to the front door. It was 7:38PM.
7:38 Hinckley Days Inn, 83.1 miles
10 hours 34 minutes elapsed time
7 hours 42 minutes 58 seconds ride time
10.94 miles per hour average, 27.7 mph maximum
The racers out there are not going to be too impressed with an average speed just under 11 miles an hour or nearly three hours of rest time over the trip, but I am ever so proud of the children. Geneva's longest ride to date had been to church and back, about 30 miles; Henry's was the return trip from Baker Park in July, 43 miles in blazing hot weather with a load of gear. Geneva had never ridden 35 miles in a day, Henry had never done even 45, and here they'd cracked off 83.
I checked in. We rolled the bikes into the room. For all the tiredness and fatigue of the ride, the kids could hardly wait to go for a swim, so we changed into swimsuits and had a good half an hour of splashing around. I soaked in the Jacuzzi for a while. We showered off the chlorine and suddenly discovered we were all starved.
We wandered across the highway to Tobie's to get dinner and all got the half-pound Tobie burger. Geneva devoured hers and finished first. The waitress asked what we'd been up to and when I said we'd ridden bicycles up from Saint Paul she mouthed "Oh my God" and asked a few questions. Both kids noticed this, and it gave them additional reinforcement that it had been a good day. The waitress later asked how old the kids were; I told her 11 and 13, and she said she'd guessed 11 and 14 when telling the kitchen staff about us. Henry and Geneva were impressed that she'd told the kitchen folks. Frankly, I was a little surprised that it was a big deal to her; the MS 150 ride overnights in Hinckley and there must be hundreds of people who ride that. I'm guessing some of them are even pretty young.
We went back to the hotel, got a rollaway for Henry as the full-sized beds were a bit small for sharing, especially with a kid like him who steals covers and kicks like a mule in his sleep. We watched a bit of CNN where the initial news on Hurricane Katrina looked ok, it had weakened a bit and not hit New Orleans directly. I also watched the Duluth news to see what the weather would be like; it looked like another gorgeous day in store for us. It didn't take long for us to drift off.
I've got friends who get up really early, hit the road at 5:30AM, etc. Not us. I woke up shortly after 7:00 and let the kids sleep until 7:30. I figured they needed the rest. When they got up we decided to eat right away and went down for the Continental breakfast. This was actually OK. They had a couple of waffle irons and some waffle mix, so we could make ourselves waffles and syrup for breakfast. We ate these and some muffins and stuff and then went back and packed everything up. We left the room, checked out and then left.
8:47 departure from Days Inn, Hinckley
We rolled out of the Days Inn and headed across the Interstate and back through Hinckley. The most famous thing ever to happen to Hinckley was the Hinckley Fire of September 1, 1894. This whole area was heavily logged and the lumbermen would trim off the branches and stuff. This debris was left to rot. The summer of 1894 was very hot and this waste all dried out and on September 1 it caught fire. The result was a massive fire that lasted only four hours but completely destroyed six towns and burned out over 400 square miles. It also killed 418 people. This is all well-told in the Hinckley Fire Museum.
Here I am in front of the Hinckley Fire Museum. The Atlantis is well-camouflaged for this building! I haven't been in for a few years but it's worth a stop if you're in the neighborhood. As we were taking this, the lady came by to open up for the day, but we had miles to do, so didn't linger.
9:00 Willard Munger trailhead, taking photos, 1.4 miles
We didn't get far in the first twenty minutes. Here are the kids by the map of the Willard Munger State Trail. This goes 70 miles from here to western Duluth, all paved. It promised to be a better ride than yesterday with no highway riding and no metropolitan areas to have to clear out of.
Almost immediately after starting we ran into this tableau, a man fishing by a small dam on the Grindstone River. We pressed on.
Here Henry and Geneva ride side by side. We didn't see anyone on the trail for the first hour or two. It was actually chilly in the shady parts, warm in the sun. Much of the trail alternated between sun and shade like in the photo above. Geneva, who is a social creature, would spend time chattering away with Henry for a while, then drop back and chatter away with me. At one point, she was dropping back and Henry said, hey, you're abandoning me. Geneva called back, I like to spend time with all my men. We could be in trouble in a few years!
10:00 Two miles south of Finlayson on trail, 12.0 miles
We stopped about 10:15 for a half hour snack in Finlayson, where we ate a Clif bar and I bought some juice. Henry and I also had some locally-produced beef sticks. In this photo you can see the old Finlayson depot; I get the impression it's open sometimes, but it wasn't this morning.
11:00 on the Munger Trail north of Finlayson, 100 miles since departure, nearly 17 for the day
We got to 100 miles just at the top of a quick rolling bit of hills and, in keeping with Geneva's celebration of 50 miles yesterday, we all stuck our bottoms in the air and shook them.
We didn't always ride right together. Here Henry is in the distance, Geneva close to me. We are south of Willow River on the trail at this point.
My small camera is fun. I decided that I shouldn't just have photos of my children's backsides, so just held the camera out at arm's length and took a few photos. This one worked nicely.
It worked for a self-portrait, too. You can see how lovely a day this was, the clouds kept the sun from being too intense. I have the Bell Metro's rear-view mirror folded away; I used it in traffic and when in front of the kids, otherwise kept it folded away. I like this folding feature.
All cyclists who ride longer distances eventually have an episode of bonking. The funny thing is, this road is at the turnoff for Camp Heartland, where we picked up Geneva from the Diocesan Music Camp just over a week ago. I hadn't noticed it then, but you see more on a bike.
At about 11:30, we rolled into Willow River, 24.6 miles into the day. The kids went to the playground while I cruised up and down considering the eating choices. I decided on Peggy Sue's and went back to retrieve the children. Willow River is proud of its claim to fame.
I wasn't even sure who Ernie Nevers is. I looked him up. He played for Stanford, then went professional for the Duluth Eskimos and then the Chicago Cardinals back in the 1920s and early '30s. He scored all 40 points (including kicking the extra points) in a 40-6 rout of the Bears in November 1929, a record that still stands. Now we know.
12:00 At lunch in Willow River
12:32 Leave Willow River
Immediately upon departure, at the bridge over the Willow River, Henry's pannier came off again and slid along on the bridge. It would have been hilarious (now) if it had taken a bounce through the railings and into the drink. I can see why people would like, say, the Carradice or Ortlieb pannier attachments which close around the rack and won't bounce off. Here Henry has parked his bike and run back to get the pannier.
1:00 Sturgeon Lake, 29.17 miles
Some of these towns don't seem to amount to much. Sturgeon Lake was one of them.
2:00 North of Moose Lake, 37.25 miles
We traversed Moose Lake on city streets. The city park bathrooms were locked up and the beach not in use. School's not in yet; why is all this stuff closed? Geneva wasn't feeling great. We found a bathroom at a private campground adjacent to the city park, then moved on. We had a slow stretch as Geneva seemed to have something of a stomach ache. She felt bad about slowing us down and bravely pushed on. It was time for some more fatherly support and a hug. I love this girl. We pulled off in Barnum, just off the trail, where I got Geneva a Pepsi to see if that would settle her stomach. While turning off, she slipped and fell in sand at the turn but fortunately wasn't hurt, though I think it was demoralizing.
3:00 North of Barnum, 42.0 miles
Three o'clock found us stopped on the trail. Geneva was taking off her flourescent yellow jacket as the sun had come back out. Henry marked his territory in a bush and lathered on some more sunscreen and I adjusted Geneva's seat angle to see if it would be more comfortable. Everybody cheered up after this and we pushed on. There was a tunnel marked on some maps but it was just a short underpass under Highway 61. There was an older gentleman walking his bike in the tunnel, so we stopped to see if he needed assistance. Nope, he was just turning around on his daily ride. We chatted for a few minutes, then moved on to Mahtowa.
The kids saw the merry-go-round right away and pleaded for a Butt Break. I agreed and we stopped.
I don't think you ever see these in the Cities. This one might be as old as I am.
How did people ever get hurt on these? Henry's laughing with delight in this photo as I've been spinning the thing really fast.
Tuesday must be Library day in Mahtowa. Later, as the Munger trail passed under Interstate 35, I saw this Library heading north up the highway.
Geneva took this picture of Henry shortly before 4:00 at a road crossing. Henry is very fair-skinned, like me, and susceptible to sunburn. We'd been slathering him with sunblock all along but he added a bandana under his helmet to protect his neck. It looked a bit goofy, but was a smart thing to do.
4:00 On trail, forget where, 47.5 miles
Geneva had to go to the bathroom and we were in the middle of nowhere (actually, near Atkinson, it turned out) when an auto body shop appeared. I told her it might be pretty dirty, but it was better than a bush, so we rode across the highway to the place and asked the three guys sitting there if my daughter could use their restroom. Sure, they said, and Geneva went in. Henry and I stood around and talked with these guys. They had a huge black dog named Samson who was very friendly; Henry scratched him the entire time we were there. I asked about all the wrecks; turns out they got them from everywhere, and a Honda sitting in the driveway had just come in from California. I was thinking it looked like a lot of really shitty drivers for such an unpopulated area. We talked about animals; my fervent desire to see a moose in the wild was not likely to be fulfilled here, but there were lots of bears. They repaired a lot of deer and bear hits to local cars. There were also a lot of bear hunting permits issued in this area. I'm not a hunter, but understand that even those who get a bear permit (by lottery) often don't get a bear. You have to work pretty hard at it. Geneva had come back out and was petting Samson as well. We wound down the conversation, offered profuse thanks as we weren't customers and likely never would be, re-crossed the highway, and rode on. Once we were going, Geneva told me that the bathroom was disgusting, but she was glad we stopped anyway.
5:00 Nearing Carlton, Minnesota, 57.8 miles
Atabout 5:15 we arrived in Carlton. Thanks to Dan's experience, we know not to carry on straight on a trail that goes to Wrenshall, but to jink left across the railroad tracks to the Munger Trail as it heads to Duluth. Carlton was the promised land; the old guy in the tunnel had said it was downhill from here. I had my suspicions about how downhilly it would be, but even so, gettting so near to Duluth was invigorating for the kids. We were going to make it! Henry and I snarfed down Clif bars in the picnic shelter in Carlton, Geneva just had half of hers. Recharged, we set out. Within a couple of miles we came to a bridge with lovely views of the Saint Louis River.
We stopped to take some photos. The lighting here isn't the most attractive, but you get a sense of the scenery. We've gone from the flat boggy land we've been in since Hinckley to rugged rocky terrain. The Saint Louis River is the waterway that flows into the west end of Lake Superior, and its estuary (if lakes can have estuaries) forms the harbor for the Twin Ports of Duluth (Minnesota) and Superior (Wisconsin).
Geneva is beaming and proud here. She's going to make it! Mom had had her doubts, but we on the final leg into Duluth and the view from this bridge looked like a fairy tale, Geneva said. It was getting chilly and the persistent east wind was now something of a headwind so Geneva's got on her bright yellow cycling jacket. When in full sunlight these things must be visible from outer space.
6:00 On trail heading towards Duluth, 63.3 miles
We plugged on along the trail. I didn't know what the elevation drop would be but it was pretty clear that even a few hundred feet spread over 10 or 12 miles was going to be pretty gradual. Henry zoomed on ahead, weaving back and forth, racing along, then dawdling for us to catch up, even getting out of sight for a while. Geneva and plugged along. She was getting tired again and the lack of a dramatic downhill to go racing down was proving something of a disappointment.
If one of your goals in life is to meet statuesque blond beauties with great legs, you could do worse than to spend time on the Munger Trail from Carlton to Duluth. We met a fairly consistent oncoming stream of roller bladers clocking along up the slope at fast speeds and many were lovely young Nordic princesses. Geneva and I, plugging along at a slow 9-10 mph, were overtaken by a number of rollerbladers, some of them moving in tight lines perfectly in sync, arms behind their backs like speed skaters.
The trail was pretty enough, a relief from the flat monotony of the Hinckley-Carlton stretch, and there were a couple of pretty dramatic roadcuts where the rock had been blasted away to make room for the original railroad, but there weren't really any dramatic vistas, nothing like the final stretch into Duluth on Interstate 35 when you crest the hill and see Lake Superior laid out before you.
7:00 In Duluth, virtually at end of Munger Trail, 74.7 miles
Geneva stopped for a quick Butt Break right at 7:00, nearly 75 miles into the trip and, it turned out, only a few hundred yards from the end of the trail. We rode up to the end where Henry awaited. There was no real indication on how to get into Duluth and I didn't have a map with me yet, so we rode across the street to a parking lot to ask some rollerblader guys how to get downtown. We chatted for a minute; it emerged that we'd ridden in from Hinckley, which seemed unduly impressive to these guys considering they'd probably all overtaken us in the last couple of miles.
The answer to downtown proved pretty straightforward. We were at about 74th Avenue West. Lake Street, the one that goes across the famous lift bridge, was the baseline, and it was about seven miles away. All You Gotta Do is go left to Grand, the busy street a block away, and keep riding. We couldn't miss the lake and the lift bridge would become visible. It would be seven miles to Canal Park and then another two or three east to our hotel. I kind of wish they hadn't given the distances out loud, for Geneva in particular was crestfallen. We'd just ridden 75 miles and the downhill for the last 10 had proved pretty disappointing. Now we had another ten to go!
We set off for the most excruciating hour of the whole trip. Grand Avenue is busy and there are no marked bike lanes. What's more, it's under construction and narrows down to one lane each way for quite a while and the lanes closed off are not nice smooth asphalt we can easily ride down but dug-out pits of gravel a couple of feet deep. Geneva's feeling very tired. I put Henry up front with his new Blackburn Quadrant headlight while we all show blinking taillights. Duluth is in the basin of Lake Superior and although official sunset isn't for a while yet, we're into the shadows of the surrounding hills already.
We slogged our way down Grand, Geneva just keeping up an 8-9 mph pace. I tried a couple of parallel streets, hoping to avoid the traffic and construction of Grand, but they just kept dumping us back on Grand. We stopped at a closed gas station so Geneva could finish off her Clif bar, trying to get her some more energy. I think she was bonking again, poor girl, but I wanted us off the streets as soon as possible. West Duluth also isn't the most charming part of town; it was transmission shops and welding companies and warehouses, rough roads and rundown houses. At 20th and Superior my interest was piqued by the Seaway Hotel, which must have served as cheap accomodations for seamen, but which is now apparently a flophouse. When a hill loomed ahead, we moved a block over to Michigan Street. As it looked to turn into a virtual freeway at about 11th Ave West, a pedestrian bridge over the Interstate presented itself. I saw a flight of stairs on the other side but figured hauling our bikes down those was preferable to riding uphill onto a busy road.
8:00 Duluth bike path over I-35 just west of Canal Park area, 81.1 miles
We rode across the bridge and discovered an apprarently pretty new bike ramp down! Finally, a downhill worth the name! We coasted down that onto some bike paths which brought us to the Canal Park area. We stopped in front of the William A. Irvin, a retired ore ship now open as a museum.
The light is fading fast, but here are the children just after 8:00 in front of the William A. Irvin. Geneva's managed a smile, Henry's looking a bit tired now. I think Geneva's second half of a Clif Bar is kicking in. The hotel is still about three miles away, but all we have to do is traverse this isthmus and then take the lakeside bike trail. No more traffic, no more uncertainty.
We rode over to the bike path and plugged along, dinging people with our bells. The Best Western Edgewater, where we were booked, is at 24th and London Road. The bike trail took us all the way there and even had a handy overpass over the railway track and Interstate. The path looks like it goes directly to the hotel, but came to an abrupt end at a chainlink fence. The hotel is undergoing a lot of construction at the moment as they add an enclosed waterpark, and we had to go through some grass and a Perkins and Holiday parking lot, then down a sidewalk so we could check in. I left the children outside and went in to get the keys. In full bike gear (sadly, I had my cycling jacket on so my Crash Test Dummy jersey wasn't visible) the desk attendant asked where I'd come from; I told her, and she was amazed. I pointed to my chidren waiting outside, and she was astounded. Again, I am surprised that people would be amazed about an adult doing it, but the kids' achievement merits respect.
8:37 Arrive Best Western Edgewater, 24th and London Road, 84.7 miles
11 hours 50 minutes elapsed time
8 hours 9 minutes 51 seconds ride time
10.62 mph average, 23.4 mph maximum
The average speed was a disappointment. We'd been averaging more like 11.5 mph up until Carlton, but the leisurely pace down the final stretch to the end of the trail and then the wretched ride in traffic and construction had dragged it down.
We were tired. We dragged our bikes in. Fortunately, we had a balcony and could safely park two of them outside there. We ordered in delivered Chinese food from the China Cafe and cleaned up and watched tv. It was obvious on CNN that things in New Orleans were not going well, that levees had breached and the city was flooding. This seemed a big surprise to a lot of people. Hadn't it been obvious for a long time that the city sits in a depression and was inadequately defended? I guess not. Ironically, when the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 took place, we were in England on vacation having fun; here New Orleans is getting inundated in what looks to be a huge, slow-motion disaster, and we're pedalling away in gorgeous weather at the opposite end of the river.
We went to bed shortly after ten. Cleaned up, in a hotel, with food in our tummies, everyone was happy again. The children were proud. I am proud of them. Henry's as strong as a horse, fast and uncomplaining, tolerant of the slower speeds we've ridden, happy to plug along with his sister or alone. He proved strong carrying a load camping to Baker Park; riding to church a couple of weeks ago, a 30 mile round trip, he didn't slow me down at all. He also likes his Trek quite a lot, and we may do another upgrade or two.
Geneva was brave. She had the least-suitable bike and is nearly two years younger than Henry. Both days were more than twice as far as she's ever ridden before, and I think she expended more energy than Henry and I and was more susceptible to running out of energy. Her seat was probably least-comfortable; I don't know if it's the seat or the riding position, but her bottom seemed to suffer the most discomfort. Before we do something like this again, I'd like to get her a more suitable bike, so will be keeping my eyes open.
If you can't tell, I love my children and I like them too. That's not the case with everyone. We stand on the cusp of teenage-hood, with Henry officially there already and Geneva not far behind. Maybe in a couple of years they'll be too cool to do things like this with Dad, maybe not. In the meantime, it's an achievement they can be proud of and look back on for years.