Former Whittier couple’s 2,300-mile cycling trip along the Mississippi River

Part 2: Across the Minnesota lakes region

By Mandy Hale
Special to the Turnagain Times

Let the good times roll indeed—although slowly. As my mom used to say, we’re off like a herd of turtles. Actually, that’s the beauty of bicycle travel. It’s a very human pace.

Much faster than walking, cycling still lets one really enjoy the scenery, spot the deer peeping from the roadside and make eye contact before they startle and leap back into the woods. It’s slow enough to deliberately avoid the carnage wreaked by vehicles on hapless frogs, turtles and even long convoys of Wooly Bear caterpillars.

We arrived in Minneapolis on Sept. 1 to 85 degree temperatures and high humidity. That combination really takes its toll on Alaskans. Family friends ferried us to Lake Itasca the following Sunday, and after many picture takings we were finally on our way Monday morning. I collected a vial of water from the river to carry with me to the Gulf, where I will pour out half and refill it there. Though just how salty that water is, remains to be seen; the fresh water of The Big Muddy has a very long reach indeed.

We had planned to start out slowly. I remind myself of that every day. After all, we knew it would be warm and humid, and that we are relatively new to loaded touring. After seven days on the road we broke 200 miles; we are indeed that very small herd of turtles.

It has been very pleasant along the Mississippi, watching it gradually widen and darken with the muddy hue it is so famous for in the south. We have crossed and re-crossed the river 12 times by now, each time memorializing the event with a photo. Ambling along at about 7 mph we have completed 10 percent of our journey.

For the most part we are camping, hauling tent, sleeping bags and cook gear in our panniers. It’s been a big surprise to me how little my load affects my cycling performance. Granted, I am only carrying 39 pounds, plus food for a couple of days. However, I’ve toured with a trailer tagging along behind, and that was much more difficult. My husband, Tom, agrees that riding the bike unloaded is only marginally easier. We are each carrying four panniers, two on front and two on rear racks. We have a very small tent, and deliberately packed only two sets of bike clothes, two of “civilian” clothes, one fleece shirt and our rain gear.

We met a young man on a single speed bike who’d been on the road for 13 months. He was carrying 100 pounds of gear just for himself! Just one of the advantages of having a partner is sharing the weight of the essentials.

Our Bicycling Guide to the Mississippi River Trail routes us as close to the river as possible, and on mostly state and county back roads. And what roads they are! Minnesota does an outstanding job with design and maintenance. Studded tires are banned here, and it shows in the quality of the road surface. Everything we’ve ridden so far has a shoulder or else it is so low traffic that it doesn’t matter. Drivers are courteous with nary an irritated honk or a “close encounter” experienced yet.

The first several days took us through the Minnesota lakes country, with small family-owned resorts every few miles. Later, we passed large farms where hay production seems to be the mainstay. We have seen surprisingly few cows or horses though. Dairying, historically the province of small farms, seems to have gone the way of industrialization. The area is studded with abandoned barns and farmhouses, the old apple and plum trees untended and unharvested. I have to confess, we have helped ourselves to more than one windfall, and tart ones at that!

Because the land is now more sparsely tenanted, we have met far fewer people than I anticipated. We find ourselves hungry for conversation, striking up acquaintance at convenience stores, cafes and rest stops. Post Labor Day, even the campgrounds are empty, which is a little eerie.

Tom and I often go for miles without saying much to one another apart from the wildlife observations, content in the steady rhythm of the wheels revolving, the birdcalls and crickets, and the sound of the wind of our passing in our ears.

Like many long-married couples, our communication is not dependent on words alone, but in the knowledge of shared experiences, common emotion and the mind reading ability that comes from 38 years together. Without looking back at his smiling face, I know that Tom is having as much fun as myself.

Mandy and Tom Hale met in Whittier in 1973. They were married in the first civilian wedding ever performed in the city. The couple and their son and daughter lived in Whittier until 1988. They now live in Palmer.