Infinite sand, for just a couple of hours

To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour. 
  -  William Blake

Right. So my recently-clarified, adjusted Ride Across Minnesota plan is to do more than 5, at least 60-mile rides and to ride at least 600 miles in July, and to do a chunk of those rides while in NE Wisconsin for the week that I normally would be riding 300 miles in Minnesota. I also committed to making the rides challenging with some good stories. I set that goal in mid-July without closely examining how that might work out, timeframe-wise, but I'm actually making decent progress. (See my Facebook post about getting my second chain of 2020 on my road bike late last week.)

I am wondering, though, if today's ride of just shy of 30 miles on my fat tire bike in the rain, sand, gravel, and some very deep (pedals under the water) lengthy puddles can count as a 60-miler. Hear me out. There are two bases for this justification, which I will explore in more detail:

1. It was at least twice as fun as any ride I've been on lately.

All spring and summer, I've been biking on pretty much the same routes by myself - adding a little new twist here or there. Today's route in a wilderness area in NE WI only had a couple of miles in common with what I've ridden before. Thankfully, even though I have no phone/text service, my map functionality worked so I could see that I'd gotten off the planned course a couple of times. I was also able to find a detour when it turned out that one of the "roads" on Google and Map My Ride was actually a private road with very explicit "no trespassing" signs. The road I took as a detour was one of my favorite parts. It was narrow and isolated.

Since it was a rainy day, the woods were dark and green and pretty. I found some good views over valleys I didn't know existed, an old firetower spot, a snowshoe trailhead; saw tons of wildflowers, a few lakes, streams, and rivers; and got bit in the behind by deer flies (and almost wiped out in a wet mud puddle while riding one handed because I was trying to get one off my posterior). I saw a couple of deer and a fox. There were rolling hills - nothing major - but some of the puddles and wet sand leading up to and away from them were challenging, and I had to go through some squishy ruts and slide-y bits. I was laughing a lot, by myself, in the middle of nowhere. I saw two cars on the dirt roads. On one little stretch of isolated pavement by Kentuck Lake, I saw a few cars entering and exiting a resort, but I don't count them because... well, because pavement was such a fleeting aspect of the ride.

This is the ride I thought I'd do. I got a little off
track in the SE part and had to find new roads in the
NE part. I got to add some miles. I could have
ridden more, if I had packed more water and a snack.

  

Clockwise from top left: About 1/3 of the way in;
realizing I'd need to take a detour; a post-ride #BikeMS
brewski in my customary #BikeMS coozy; if
one were to zoom in she'd see legs and a bike
caked with wet, clingy sand.

I hope the video comes through - my Internet connection in the Northwoods is not perfect. As one would hope. 

2. I was on a fat tire bike, in wet sand.

Did I mention these facts? It rained pretty steadily for half the ride, drizzled for another quarter, and was dryish for the remainder. It was a little... hmmm... sticky.. in my rain coat since it was 71 when I headed out, but it actually was pretty comfortable. I forgot to bring my easily detachable/attachable fender so my butt was wet in roughly 45 seconds, but it would have been wet from the rain anyhow. My hair was soaked and had about 1/4 cup of sand lodged in it. My helmet was covered in sand. 

Clockwise, from top left: Self-explanatory; these wet
ruts were at the beginning of the ride, before the
puddles got very impressive; a nice stretch of gravel;
a pit stop to check the map (again).

I averaged 9.38 mph on the ride. Granted, I was not trying to break any land records and was looking at all of the scenery. Besides some of the usual discomforts (I have been suffering from a sore bruised butt bone, and was very soggy and abrasive - exfoliating, I suppose - from the waist down), riding a fat tire bike is more work than riding a road bike.

The tires are wide and friction-y.

My 45N Dillinger tires are over 4 inches wide. My
road bike tires are 1 inch wide. 

The bike is heavier.

I'm not sure how heavy my bikes are and I was too
lazy to get a bathroom scale, take it to the garage, and
step on and off it with and without my bikes. The
magical Internet tells me that my road bike (when not
loaded down with all my crap) is probably
around 15-18 pounds and the fat bike is about 31.

I think it is safe to say that it is twice as hard to ride a bike that is twice as heavy and has knobby tires that are over four times the width of slick roadbike tires. Right? I mean, math isn't my strong suit, and I'm sure there's some physics related to gears and wheel circumference. Or is it calculus? Or both? I think physics - - because it is an object in motion and there's some gravity. All I remember from calculus is that it is handy for making a bridge or figuring out the area of a donut (Who cares about the area of a donut? Just eat it.).


ANYWAY, when I got back, it was still raining a little bit so I jumped in the lake and swam around for the first time in 2020. It helped me rinse off all the sand. After a shower and some lunch, things cleared up and my parents took me out for a pontoon boat ride.

I had a prettier photo of the lake, but thought
I should offer proof of being on a boat.

So, I'll let you be the judges, I guess, but I know one thing: it was a great bike ride.

https://mssociety.donordrive.com/participant/GoMaggieGo
(p.s. The MS Society switched websites last week; a couple of your donations are still making it over to this website, but I've been assured that they're in the fundraising totals they have in their spreadsheets. Thanks for your support!)

Rivers, rivers galore

I promised to try to make the rest of my rides this month something to write home about. Although it makes no sense to write home, since I am at home, but whatever.

Anyhow, yesterday was all about the Minnesota River. Today was all about the Mississippi.

Yesterday I rode to Blackdog for the first time by myself. I forgot how nice and wide the shoulders are on Highway 13. As I posted on Facebook, I was listening to Kate Bush's Wuthering Heights song on the radio when I passed a street sign for Wuthering Heights. I'm confused about how an area that looks like a trailer park got such a literary name. Once I got to Blackdog, my brain was consumed with the beauty of my surroundings. It was a super muggy (e.g., heat index of over 100 degrees) ride home, but I swung by Jane's and Mary's to say hi and they gave me lunch out on their patio! Win-win! 

I didn't see a moor.

If you live in the area
and haven't been on the
Cedar Ave pedestrian
bridge over the MN
River, you're missing out.

The Minnesota River 

Check out the thick layer of mud on the boat landing. 

The Minnesota, from the boat landing.

Today, I wanted to go a longer distance and without mapping it out figured Anoka would be a good distance. I figured my ride would be anywhere from 60-80 miles. Turns out, it isn't really that far from the Coon Rapids Dam. On the bright side, it was lovely riding to and from Anoka - - who knew! Also, if I want to go there again, it turns out it is not that far. So, it didn't totally fit with the plan for today, so I tacked on some extra miles in Minneapolis to make up for it, but that's okay.

Also, my friends insist that we went to the Mad Hatter tea shop in Anoka once. I don't believe them. Today I rode by it, and I still don't believe them. It looks cool, though, and I will go there should it survive COVID-19.

I saw a lot of cool, not-too-fancy
houses along both sides of the river.

The Mississippi from the Hwy 169 pedestrian bridge.

The Halloween Capital?!?! What?

I found these in a field and thought for sure
they were remnants from some historic event.
They were clean and had TP and hand sanitizer.
I'm going back to Anoka!

After my last blog post, my sister Molly was
reminiscing about the old Soo Line trains of our
youth. Each one of those letters is on an angled
piece of metal. This is from the Grand Rounds
route through NE Mpls, which I haven't ridden for years.

Noteworthy items from today: Just like in the olden days, I picked up my bike to walk across some tracks to take a short cut. Also the new bridge that goes over the train tracks in NE Mpls on this route is fantastically huge and smooth - it previously had a big bump and was narrow and unsafe. I also learned that the Diagonal Trail through NE just ends by Roseville Mall. That seems like a situation that ought to be remedied.

Thankfully, I planned the route well and had a minor headwind for the first half of the ride and a decent tailwind for most of the second half! 

I still have a lot of riding to get to my July riding goals, it seems. I guess I should have looked at the calendar when I set those goals! 

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/GoMaggieGo

An illustrated guide to peeing while biking around the Twin Cities

Well, hi.

My blog productivity has been minimal, but that's good because so has my creativity. And really, how many different photos can I show you of different views of data from my Garmin?

I mean, I know that you like to ponder (in respective order) why I started and ended in two spots 1.5 miles apart (flat tire just as I got to the coffee shop), why would anyone want a graph overlaying the ambient temperature with the lack of elevation in Minnesota (why not?), and why I keep on going to Cottage Grove (that's actually Grey Cloud Island and it is pretty and there's little traffic)...

Or, perhaps, you like to know (respectively) that when I went on a physically distanced bike ride "with" my friend Steve - staying far apart at all stops and staying far, far apart while riding - he got this nail in his tire but didn't get a flat for another 45 miles; that I occasionally get a weird heat rash when I wear bike short; and that my BikeMS Team Captain can coozy is one of my favorites for a post-bike ride beer.

But (drumroll please!) you all know I like a good story about finding an au naturale spot for going to the bathroom in these COVID times ~ and ~ I *may* have mentioned that my sister suggested that perhaps I... get off the pot, so to speak... and create an illustrated guide to peeing while biking around the Twin Cities. This morning while eating breakfast (yes, it was *that* thought out), I put pencil to paper and offer you the following:

Early spring 2020; Bloomington - - very little
foliage for cover in the Twin Cities

Late spring; St. Paul - don't get burrs in your shorts indeed!

June, NE Mpls - keep the relevant body parts hidden

Last weekend; Newport (a tiny old city
just south of St. Paul)

My 5-day, 300-mile ride was scheduled for the last week of July. I'm going to be switching it up slightly because I'll be in Wisconsin visiting my mom and probably can't ride 60 miles per day while visiting her, but I'll still get in the miles - - my donors can rest assured - - I'm not slacking off! I'm close to my adjusted goal for this year. 

Want to help? http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/GoMaggieGo

Let love shine, again.

Well, hello there. 


The last time I put fingers to keyboard, I had included this Madonna lyric:

"Let love shine

And we will find
A way to come together
Can make things better"

I unknowingly was typing that right around the time that George Floyd was being killed a mile and a half from my home. Before then, I was still feeling grief from the fall, compounded with the oddness and worries associated with a pandemic and not being able to see my sick mom or my too-isolated stepmom, and worried about living in a country where it took three months for charges to be even be considered in the murder of Ahmaud Arbery. And then this horrifying murder and resulting turmoil in my city. I can't do justice to the issues in this space and won't try, especially as a white woman. I just need to acknowledge, though, that this happened. And, to my friends who are people of color or Native Americans, I know that this is one in a series of sad and difficult events for you and, regardless of whether you're from Minneapolis or somewhere else, you have encountered systemic racism, and I'm very, very sorry. I am encouraged by the fact that there seems to finally be an appetite for change and some things may be in motion. 

Lots of gardening time, the Minnesota River on
a recent bike ride, the National Guard on
it way into position for wherever they went
during curfew.

Yes, tobacco control colleagues - I use Walgreens. I can
explain. Except my Walgreens was damaged and
looted and has not yet reopened. But it fared
better than our post office. The big pile of mulch
is 1/3 of the huge pile we frantically relocated
to the flower beds when the city told us to remove all
flammable items from our yards, due to the
risk of people setting stuff on fire. I have gotten
it down to about 1/2 this size in the last two weeks.

So, it is against this backdrop that I have been going out for rides, partly to continue my training and partly for maintaining my mental health, especially when there were military helicopters hovering over our house for over a week. I've seen wildflowers, pretty water birds, an array of turtles, baby eagles, baby geese, baby ducks, deer, and a dog that took a big lunge at me the other day. I've posted some photos on Facebook and have included some others here, today.

This weekend is normally the weekend that I ride 150 miles from Duluth to the Twin Cities with roughly 3,500-4,000 other people. Obviously that didn't happen. I took Friday off of work, though, and rode 92 miles. I rode mostly on trails, since it was a weekday - - something I haven't done all year, and something that I've missed. I decided at mile 75 that I could do almost another 20, despite the fact that my body hurt, thinking it would be easier for me mentally to get started on Saturday if I knew I didn't have to ride 75 miles. On Saturday, I rode 58 miles and I felt really good. Today? I'm sore from weeding the yard for 8 hours - - not from biking. 

I had choice words for my Garmin which,
on Friday night, after I had burned an estimated 5100
calories, told me to "move." Stillwater gets a C- in
terms of its COVIDing. No masks. A locked biffy led me
to flush toilets and soap and running water - - great!
Except they really, really need to disconnect the hot
air hand dryers. Oy vey.

Saturday. I had to stop to take a picture
of the food truck for my husband and accidentally
turned the volume way way up on my speaker.
I'm sure the people in line were really confused.

This was the second of the three Minnesota BikeMS events of 2020. I still plan on doing my own personal variation of the 300-mile ride in the end of July to raise money for the MS Society. It will be tricky. 150 miles by myself got a little... too Maggie-ish. And I need some new routes. Thankfully, I have a Bluetooth speaker for my bike that allowed me to stream a radio station for a good chunk of my ride, taking my mind off of, well, my mind. On Saturday, I finished at the outdoor patio of a taproom that had amazingly comforting social distancing measures in place and had some beer with my husband, who kindly surprised me with some salty snacks. An unconventional but successful MS150.

It seems appropriate to say again:
"Let love shine

And we will find
A way to come together
Can make things better"

Although I know we need more than just love. But it is a good place to start.

I rode here, but grabbed these photos from the
Internet. It was a moving experience. It felt
inappropriate to take photos. I wish I could show
the scope of these scenes better.

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/GoMaggieGo

Let love shine

The second song I ever heard by Madonna, back in MTV's infancy was "Holiday." A holiday during a global pandemic is a weird thing. Many people who could really use a holiday are busting their behinds to take care of the rest of us. Of the rest of us, I assume a majority (thank you) did what we've pretty much been doing for the last couple of months - stayed home, stayed distant. Worked in the yard.

Crabapple blossoms made my sidewalk fancy.

My grandma's little pitcher.
She was a lily of the valley fan.

I think some people expanded their bubbles to allow grandparents to see grandchildren. I get that, although I'm concerned about the mixing of bubbles. 

I talked to some friends - outside - at a distance of at least 10 feet, and went for a masked walk around the lake keeping 6 feet between my friend and me. 

Anyhow, there's this line toward the end of Holiday: 

"Let love shine

And we will find
A way to come together
Can make things better
We need a holiday."

I like the message of love and things getting better, even if (or, actually, especially if) our "coming together," is in solidarity to stay home and otherwise mask up. 

I thought about love when I rode on Saturday morning. For the first time this season, West River Road was deserted enough for me to take that pretty route along the river from downtown to my house. My whole route was pretty deserted, actually, so I shifted and took a couple of paths - not just roads - using my buff as a mask from time to time. I had some time to be alone with my thoughts.

This weekend last year was the last time I saw my Dad before he died unexpectedly in August. (I was scheduled to see him a few days after he died, sadly). Anyhow, we were in Kentucky for my cousin's wedding. My Dad texted me right away the first morning after my late flight in, asking me where my Airbnb was, so he could walk by and see it. And then, once he got there, he was too impatient to let me go about my morning routine or to let Dan sleep -  he called me on my cell phone and made me look out the window so he could wave to me and gave me instructions about where to meet him for breakfast in 30 minutes. In addition to doing extended family things, my parents, Dan, and I tried to do a poorly designed self-guided walking tour of Lexington. The four of us also went with my cousin Sarah and her husband Sam on a tour of the Woodford bourbon distillery. 

My Dad, so serious about
his lesson.

When riding, I was thinking about my Dad's impatience to see me that first morning in Kentucky. Thinking about his fierce and steady love of his family, a constant my whole life.

I was in the 3rd grade here, I think, since that
shirt and sweater also appeared in my 3rd grade
class photo.

If my Dad were still with us, he'd be so worried about us all. It would have been hard to make him stay away from his grandkids, but he would have followed the guidelines and found some goofy mask and would have texted us photos of him modeling it. I don't think he appreciated Madonna, but he would have appreciated that last part of Holiday, about coming together as community, to share love and make the world a better place.

I enjoyed having a long weekend, even it it was occasionally rainy and rather humid. I meant to ride all three days, but only rode twice; although I did walk over 8 miles today. My back was bothering me the other day, I think due to poor posture on my old bike while the new one got a new chain and cables as well as due hunching over weeds in the garden. I think it will be hard for me to do 150 miles over a couple of days in a couple of weeks, but I'll try.

I forgot that riding in the rain is better
when I put a seat cover to block
that opening. My wet and sandy
non-biking capris looked like they
were worn my a toddler who
was being potty trained.

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/GoMaggieGo

Action is the bridge between thought and reality.

Today was supposed to be the day of the BikeMS Twin Cities Ride. Like the day on which this was held last year, today rained a lot - all day. Unlike last year, I didn't ride today, fix a flat tire, and eat tons of donuts. Instead, because this year's ride was a #VirtualBikeMS ride, I did a 45-ish mile route yesterday, on my own, in much isolation. And I ate rather healthily, to boot.

Because my nicer road bike is in desperate need of some new shifter cables (scheduled to be replaced later this week), I took out ol' reliable - - the bike I bought when I first started doing MS fundraising bike rides 11 years ago - - my red Giant. I stuck a pannier on it, threw some snacks and some rain gear in the bag, plus some food containers to drop off on the deck of my brother and sister-in-law (a couple of weeks ago she made me some homemade Scotch eggs with eggs from their ducks) on the way home. 

This is not the bike I rode yesterday,
but I did ride with a bell, my Garmin, and
a speaker. I listened to the radio through
my phone. It was a nice change of pace.

I took the approach one would take with a BikeMS event - slow and steady, a few breaks and photos, enjoying the day and the scenery. It was grey and cool, which means it was a decent day for riding. 

I went to Mendota, over the 494 bridge (no turtles sunbathing, alas), past the Minnesota River Valley wildlife preserve, and stopped to take off my jacket by one of my favorite little oddities - a lamb farm on the backside of the Mall of America, overlooking the Minnesota River. The land is always for sale, but I hope they never actually sell it. 

A working farm, by the Mall of America.
My bike helmet was particularly
off center all day on Saturday.

I rode to the Bloomington Ferry Bridge, where no one but me was wearing a mask (decidedly different from a few weeks ago), and I went and found a place of sanctuary to eat my snack. 

A little tiny spur of the Minnesota River,
which is in the background.

Proof that I was there, and that
I didn't pull the photo off the
Internet. I was wearing my favorite
BikeMS jersey - the one
from last year's ride in the Bay Area.

You could tell the water receded not that long ago.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers' song Under the Bridge came into my mind, but none of the lyrics actually relate to my ride or, frankly, my life. I found these bridge quotes.  

“Compassion removes the walls of mistrust and builds bridges of hope, trust and beliefs.”
― Amit Ray, Walking the Path of Compassion

“Action is the bridge between thought and reality.”
― Richie Norton

“Not everyone is placid enough to build bridges over. Not everyone is submissive enough to allow dams. Some are meant to be free. Flowing.”
― Nitya Prakash

OOOH. That last one is a bit of a zinger.

It was a good ride, but my allergies were in full force. I took this photo the day before, by my house. Everything is in full bloom and smells miraculous.

While I haven't been riding my bike as much as in some prior years, a look at my, ahem, (snobby tone) historical records tells me that I'm pretty much where I was in the 2018 season as of May 17. That sort of surprises me.

Because I keep track of things, I guess, I can tell you - with precision - that these photos are from two weeks ago, when I did a quick 20-mile Sunday morning ride (the day after riding 62 miles - in 2020! it is possible!)

The Mississippi River in North Minneapolis.
Still, the signs of a decade-old tornado are obvious.

So, my goal for this year was to do the distance of the three MN BikeMS rides roughly during the time I would have done them if we were doing the rides as a group. That's one of the three under my belt! It will take some creativity (and, perhaps some padded shorts) on my part to get 150 miles in over the second weekend of June and 300 miles in during the third week of July, given ongoing social distancing, but I welcome the challenge.

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/GoMaggieGo

Mutual of Omaha's Wild Minneapolis

I was trying to think of a title for this post. Do I focus on something scatalogical? What about a urinary tie in? Let's just go with nature; it is safe territory. 

Then I thought, "Can I mimic Marlin Perkins' voice or tone?" "Like an exploratory ant returning to the hill, Maggie wove her way home on her bike." Mhm. No. So, I'll just tell it like it was.

Friday was my Dad's birthday - our first without him - which resulted in my taking the day off work and spending a lot of time outside with a damp face. When I thought about going out in the morning, I channeled the way he used to growl/snarl at us when we were annoying teenagers and command us to go on nature hikes, "You're gonna go, and you're gonna have fun!" 

Fort Snelling State Park is still largely
covered in mud from the recent floods.
In a comic way, I slipped on what was seemingly
dry sand but was very squishy mud as I tried
to look down the Minnesota River.

The confluence of the Minnesota River (R) and
the Mississippi River (L). Since Friday, leaves
have come out on the trees.

All of Pike Island looked
like a lunar landscape, but with the
addition of barren trees.

I was really worried about this super skinny deer,
who was not at all scared of people.

The Mississippi side of the
island apparently is popular with
beavers, I thought. And then
I saw one swimming... (below).

 

When looking for a makeshift bathroom
spot, in a park with no foliage, I saw that
there are green little shoots finding their way
out of the mud. And I found a snail shell,
recently deposited, about 75 yards over
from the riverbank and at least
10 feet above the water.

On Sunday, like last week's mid-week ride, I wove around the city, avoiding people but trying to ride on decent roads without too many stops. I went west this time, and rode to the Bloomington Ferry Bridge, which was closed for much of the past two+ years due to flooding. It wasn't closed on Sunday, but there were a lot of people walking and riding in the park/on the trail. So, I nodded hello to the river, turned around, and found a new way back home through Bloomington. 

By the B in West Bloomington, I rode around an office park looking for a spot for a quick pit stop. The options were limited since bushes still are lacking leaves, but then I found this spot with three clustered evergreens that had a nice opening right in the middle of them. I walked in and thought how it was the perfect, sheltered bathroom spot and then realized that I narrowly missed stepping on a big pile of coyote scat. It appears he found some tasty rabbits to eat. I then figured maybe I should take better stock of my surroundings before blindly walking into a spot and dropping my drawers, but I was the only animal in there at the time. 

I understand why bathrooms are closed to the public right now, but I think instead of closing restrooms, they should just put tons of soap and hand sanitizer (that people can't steal) in them and make the doors push out so that you don't have to touch a knob after washing your hands, so that people who are trying to stay active and socially distant can actually get away from the super crowded areas near their houses and get cleaned up. I guess they'd need to add automatic faucets for sinks in bathrooms. Okay, I don't know the answers to these problems. I just know that it is going to require some creativity and determination to recreate the three BikeMS rides I plan to do in May, June, and July.  

Today, I skipped going for a ride and watched the rabbits in my yard decide who they wanted to have as their partners for repopulating my neighborhood. They were so focused on the task at hand that they were really emboldened and/or stupid. A hawk or an owl would have had an easy dinner, if it had cruised down my street. Watching deer, beavers, and rabbits, inspecting scat under random evergreens, and slip-sliding through mud isn't going to get me ready for doing those bike rides, but it made me think of my Dad and ultimately was good for my mental state, which can't be discounted, I guess.

http://main.nationalmssociety.org/goto/GoMaggieGo