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I got out of camp around 7:00 this morning. Leaving my tent set up, I hiked the beach-side boardwalk into the State Park and continued around the beautiful rocky point. Along the way, I stopped to snack on sweet raspberries hanging thick like red lanterns on the bushes. At the park office, I chatted with one old co-worker and the new park supervisor, who had just replaced my old boss when he retired over the winter. He seemed like a nice guy and even offered me a ride down to the campground, but I wanted to keep hiking.I was ready to ride when I got back to the Town park. I packed up my stuff and headed for the ferry dock. By the time the boat dropped us in Bayfield it was noon, which I decided was late enough to have some lunch. I ate in the community park near the marina and watched a group of kids and their day camp counselor play water balloon games. One of the kids had on a t-shirt from the YMCA in Cincinnati where I attended summer day camp when I was his age and worked as a teenager. Small world.
A few people questioned me about my trip while I was eating lunch. While I always try to be polite, I have to admit it gets old after a while being a curiosity and answering the same set of questions over and over. It occurs to me that people don’t generally walk up to other picnickers who look “normal” and start asking the details of their lives; it would be seen as tactlessly intrusive to do so. But somehow because I am seated next to a touring bike, it’s fine in many people’s minds to interrupt my lunch break to get me to tell them exactly what I am about. Often, I have trouble even answering the questions, because they don’t contain adequate parameters for explaining my multi-faceted summer experience. For example, a common question is, “where are you riding to?” I have to guess what time frame they’re after: today? This summer? My whole live? Give me some context here.
Here are the top ten questions I get asked, and how I often feel like answering them:
1. “Where did you start from?” My mother’s womb.
2. “Where are you going?” To wherever I end up.
3. “How far do you ride in a day?” As far as I need or want to.
4. “How far have you ridden?” Depends on the time frame.
5. “How long have you been riding?” Since 7:30 this morning.
6. Is this your first trip?” No, my parents took me camping as a baby and taught me to ride a bike when I was six.
7. “How do you do it?” Step 1: Put feet on pedals. Step 2: Rotate pedals. Step 3: Repeat.
8. “What do you eat?” Food.
9. “Where do you stay at night?” Usually in my tent.
10. “I couldn’t do that.” You’re right, but only because that’s what you think.
After lunch I decided to ride up the Brownstone Trail, a narrow, fairly smooth dirt path on an old rail grade that allowed me to avoid climbing the big hill to get out of town. This was a pretty, woodsy ride, which dumped me out at Pike’s Bay Marina. From there I continued down 13 past old familiar landmarks–Mt. Ashwabay, home of Big Top Chataqua; Bayview Park and Sioux Beach; Houghton Falls, the garden shop, and Good Thyme Restaurant. In Washburn, I made an obligatory stop at Chequamegon Books and across the street at the Washburn Museum and Culture Center, both of which are housed in beautiful old brownstone buildings. Then I carried on ten more miles to Ashland.
After a brief stop at the Black Cat Coffeehouse, I made my way over to my friend Xander’s house. Nobody was home yet, so I read for half an hour, when Xander got home, followed closely by his partner and my other good friend Melissa.
Tonight there was a picnic at the Bandshell to update people on the status of the proposed Penokee Mine. This would be a 22-mile-long open gash in the earth where now there lies serene forest, beautiful trout streams, waterfalls, and the source of the surface and ground water of the Bad River Watershed, which feeds the Kakagon Slough, Lake Superior’s largest wetland and a huge wild rice production place. It seems mineral and energy companies will stop at nothing to demolish the most sacred, beautiful places for a little more profit.
I followed Melissa down to the picnic early to help set up. I volunteered where I could to get food prepared and schmoozed with a number of good folks who I haven’t seen in a while. The picnic was well attended, and there were great presentations on the mine by Bob Tammen and Al Gedicks, both of whome I have worked extensively with on the issue.
Tomorrow I’ll be sticking around Ashland. I plan to leave after I catch at least some of Saturday morning’s farmer’s market. It’s really nice to be here again, catching up with old friends and visiting good memories. I’ll be in Madison in one week.
