Wisconsin by Three Speed – Part 2

 You might want to go grab a cup of coffee, this could take awhile.  It seems I snapped a lot of photos during the last day and a half, and I was only able to omit a few.

At the end of the last post, Shawn and I had left Steve behind at a hotel in Wilton battling “vertigo”.  Ahead of us lay a small battle of loaded three speed bikes against “vertical”, but it didn’t exactly start out that way.

 At first, the roads were relatively mild, but we could see larger, steeper hills of Wildcat Mountain State Park as we approached Ontario.  Since our bodies were low on fuel, a small park in Ontario seemed a good place to pause a bit.

 Over lunch, Shawn launched a brilliant plan to make a route change.  Something seemed to compel us to explore the abandoned highway trail along the Kickapoo River instead of Wildcat Mountain.  We might have missed something grand on that mountain, but that river route was one of the prettiest segments of our entire trip.

 It was gorgeous day, the slopes were mild, and the quietness was refreshing.  It all passed by too quickly, but we still had a good way to go before our planned evening camp.  So we exited the Old Highway 131 Trail, made our way into La Farge, and refueled again.  I was actually feeling pretty good at that moment, but its a good thing I took on some food and fluids.  We were about to climb in earnest.

 Shawn might correct me, but the way I remember it, we had four approximately 3-mile segments (up, down, up, down) until we reached Hwy 56.  Then we had about 4-5 miles of stiff headwind into Viroqua.  Details aside, I knew I was ready for a break.

 We rolled into downtown, spotted the Blue Dog Bike Shop, and went inside for a look around.  Since Mrs. Pondero’s honey brand is “Blue Dog Bee Ranch”, I figured this had to be a top notch place, and it was.  This shop in such a small town out classes a high majority of shops I see in big cities.  Besides the excellent, practical merchandise and coffee bar, the friendly folks in the shop tipped us to the Driftless Cafe for dinner…a perfect name for our tour theme and a delicious meal.

Bellies full, we made one more stop at the Viroqua Food Co-op for supplies before pedaling the last 4 miles of the day to Sidie Hollow County Park for the night.

The park was beautiful and almost empty.  We set-up camp on a wide grassy area next to a flowing creek with that wonderful babbling sound.  Just before dark, we built a small fire and let it hypnotize us into a dull pre-sleep state.  I know we must have had a conversation while staring at those flames, but all I remember was staring at the flickering light, thinking that it had been a long eventful day since Norwalk, and I was very relaxed.  After crawling into the hammock, the creek flowed with my consciousness downstream.

 I heard the chainsaw fire up at 6:30am, so decided to get up and putter about with some coffee for the chilly morning.  Shawn slept through it a little while longer.

 But he was up before long and tending the kitchen.  He produced delicious blueberry pancakes, and we feasted.

 After breakfast and packing up camp, we went down to the campground lake to have a look around.  It was a pleasant spot with all the hills and trees.  So I took a few glamour shots of the Quickbeam touring bike.

 These guys, and their brothers (I assume), cracked me up.  As best I could tell, it looked like four brothers, born in consecutive years, aged 6, 5, 4, and 3.  There were two adult men, maybe a father and grandfather.  These guys ambled all about covering a wide area.  They seemed quite independent and fearless carrying their life jackets, tools, and fishing gear.  I have no idea how the two men could possibly keep track of them.  I’m guessing these boys will become hardy men…if they survive.

 After leaving the park, the next segment led us generally along the Bad Axe River toward the Mississippi River confluence.  It was idyllic rural and gravel roads winding and rolling through a wonderful green valley.  Each new hilltop and bend revealed a new eye pleasing view.

 Once reaching the Mississippi River, we used a wide shoulder roadway northward toward La Crosse.  We paused for a leisurely lunch by the locks near Genoa.

 We made it back to the Goose Island Campground in the late afternoon.  It was a far different place than it was the previous Sunday night.  We had light and only a whisper of wind as we set up camp.

 The sky, which had been cloudy all day, cleared nicely.  We watched the last sunset of our tour sink over the Mississippi River and hills of southern Minnesota.  Alas, here it was Wednesday night and Steve was still left stranded in a hotel in Wilton, where he had been since Tuesday morning.  The good news was that he was feeling much better, had actually been out riding around in town, and was eager for some company.

So Thursday morning, I dropped Shawn off in La Crosse.  He was scheduled to catch the train home that evening.  I said my farewell to Shawn and MooseMoose, and made my way to Wilton with Steve’s van.

Now that I’ve added multi-day touring to my overnight experiences, I can say I am smitten. I can’t wait to get out and do it again.  In fact, I am already scheming about new ways to do short excursions from my home this summer, and I have a trip brewing along the C&O Canal in the DC area in the fall.  More to come on that.

Wisconsin by Three Speed – Part 1

 I wanted to differentiate my Instagram posts for this part our our tour experience from the Lake Pepin Three Speed Tour with a unique hashtag.  I chose #WIx3spd.  Since the three of us traveled a goodly distance to participate in the Lake Pepin event, we decided to make the most of our travels by adding on three more days of self-supported touring in the SW Wisconsin Driftless Region.  This post covers roughly half of that.

 We arrived at the Goose Island Campground near La Crosse in the dark, and in the midst of a cold front blowing in with force.  The warm, humid air of the Red Wing/Wabasha area was quickly being replaced with unseasonably coolness.  It was a blustery 40 degrees as we brewed our coffee, ate our breakfast, and sorted our gear for departure.

 We finally did escape for our journey, but needed to traverse La Crosse from south to north before reaching the much anticipated rail trail.

 Then there were miles and miles of no traffic, quiet trails.

 This is what I get for forcing a posed group photo.

 Yes, we’re on three speeds and touring with all our gear.  And we’re liking it.

Monday lunch in bustling downtown West Salem.

 Sometimes, we’d just stop to look around and think about how lucky we were.

 Pro three speed touring rig.

 This event was Shawn’s vision.  He planned the route, pitched the use of our three speeds, and we took the bait.  I’ve done plenty of overnighters, but I learned much about multi-day touring from this man.

 This was a fun stop where we had a lovely chat with the lady inside.  As it turns out, however, we ended up using some of her information that turned into a bit of less-than-positive adventure.

 After riding fairly straight and level rail trails for a few hours, we were eager for some new interesting scenery.  We eventually made it to a long tunnel (more than 3600 feet, I think) and rode right through a hillside.

This is where we spent Monday night…Norwalk Village Park.  The information provided to us by the kind lady in Sparta helped us decide to stop here instead of riding on to Wilton.  Because, yes, the showers would be available.  It was cold and windy, but this city park restroom was heated, had showers, and had hot water.  Unfortunately, the restrooms had also been so “defiled” (as Shawn phrased it), that we tended to use the women’s side instead…and then only minimally.  At least we had a fierce “guardian lion” to keep us safe.

You might not be able to tell it in my two photos of Steve above, but this is also where on Tuesday morning that Steve informed us that he had been struck with vertigo so severe he thought he couldn’t ride anymore.

 Steve’s news had us scratching our heads and exploring options and alternatives.  Eventually, he decided that he could probably make the 5-6 miles (including another shorter tunnel) to Wilton, where he had booked a hotel room for two nights.  So we broke camp, rode carefully to Wilton, deposited Steve in his hotel room, and found him some make-do medication in the local convenience store.  And we left him there.

With a fair amount of sadness (and guilt), Shawn and I pedaled out of Wilton and into a completely different tour experience.  Not only did we have a man down, but the terrain was about to become more challenging.