My first (and with luck, only) serious mishap

It gives me a sense of security and invulnerability to the vagaries of restaurants and grocery stores (that is, the lack thereof) when I have an ample supply of unused freeze-dried camping food packed in my panniers. The Walmart in Cambridge, MN, carried just two flavors, but since the store was right on my route, I stopped for the ten minutes it took to run in and by an extra one.

Although I may have decreased my chances of running out of food, I seem to have increased my chances of running into pickup trucks driven by space cadets wearing their baseball caps backwards.  There I was, minding my own business, rolling slowly down the exit lane towards the stop sign at the entrance to the main road.  From one instant to the next, a pickup was in front of me.  I didn't even have time to brake.  He probably thought he would take the quick way out of the parking lot by darting in between the other parked cars to reach the exit lane.  Too bad he didn't look to see if any traffic was coming.  And it was also too bad that it wasn't a Mack truck, rather than a measly bicycle, that he pulled in front of. 

I hit the truck broadside, leaving distinct tire marks on the front left body panel of the truck.  (Poor guy, now he'll have to wash his truck.)  I was going slow enough so that I didn't fly forward over the handlebars, but fell to the side and landed on my left cheek (not the facial one).  I laid on the road stunned, my bike and 65 pounds of gear on top of me.  He didn't get out of the truck immediately: I can just hear him asking his wife if she heard that thump too.  By the time he finally realized that he could have killed someone, I was beginning to get up off the pavement.  There was no visible damage to the bike and, at the time, also none to me,  I merely gave him a short, terse lecture (without profanity) and left it at that.

That night, in Osceola, I could no longer walk without intense pain.  I barely managed to take off my shoes and socks.  I didn't think I would be able to continue the trip for a few days.  And I definitely wanted to call my attorney.

A night in Wisconsin

Osceola is actually just across the St Croix River dividing Minnesota from Wisconsin.  Therefore, however briefly, Wisconsin is the sixth state I've visited since the beginning of the trip, and I spent the night there.

With the pain of my injury at its most intense, there was no way I could ride my bicycle, or even walk around, in order to reconnoiter the better restaurants of Osceola.  The motel was about a mile to the north of the business district, but fortunately there was a restaurant just across the parking lot.  It was the obvious choice for an accident survivor.

I was in no mood to mess around.  I walked into the restaurant, immediately sat down and ordered a Manhattan ---  strictly for its analgesic properties.  It was strong, and it helped soothe my aching butt.  Only later did I find out that in Wisconsin they often mix Manhattans with brandy rather than bourbon, as the lady bartender had done in this case.  Brandy, however, has medicinal properties that are perhaps even superior to bourbon, so I did not complain.

It was lucky that I had hobbled in on a Tuesday night, because Tuesday is "Scandinavian Fish Boil" night at the Adventures Restaurant and Pub.  For the uninitiated --- which includes myself --- a Scandinavian fish boil is a culinary tradition according to which fish is boiled in a kettle of hot water, along with potatoes and onions.  Once the fish is cooked, the water is superheated by pouring kerosene on the fire, and finally cold water is thrown into the kettle.  This causes the water to boil over, removing the fish oils and impurities that have risen to the surface, and, as a side benefit, helping to extinguish the fire beneath the kettle. 

It's a fun spectacle (which you can watch by double-clicking the photo here), and the resulting meal of boiled fish served with drawn butter, coleslaw, boiled potatoes and onions, and hearty brown bread is both delicious and satisfying.  It seems inconceivable, but for just $11.95, it also comes with apple cobbler ala mode.  At least I hobbled happily back to my motel room.

Minneapolis: an oasis of civilization between Chicago and Seattle

My trip south from Osceola was complicated not only by a compromised human component, but also by road closures.  As the locals say, there are two seasons in Minnesota: winter and road construction.  I was supposed to stay on the Wisconsin side of the St Croix River, but had to cross back into Minnesota to head south towards Stillwater. 

Perhaps as cosmic compensation for the bad luck I had in Cambridge, MN, I now had the incredible good luck to have not one, but two places to stay in the Minneapolis area.  I first stayed in St Louis Park, a nearby suburb, with a friend I had met on the road.  After a day of additional recuperation and a little tourism (mostly by car), I had the further good fortune of being invited to the home of the daughter (and her family) of a good friend of mine back in San Francisco, Nick.

Cycling through Minneapolis to get from one suburb to another meant that the time had arrived to resurrect those dimly remembered urban survival skills. Minneapolis has about a half million people in the city proper, and about two and half million in the greater metropolitan area.  Traffic is heavy and people are in a hurry.

If you know the territory, I understand it is incredibly easy to get around by bicycle.  The city has created an extensive network of dedicated bike paths linking all parts of the Minneapolis.  Some of the paths stay close to the three main lakes; others traverse the numerous city parks.  When bikes must share the road with cars, there are usually well delineated bike lanes.  Sometimes I was successful in using the bike paths for a half mile or so, but basically I had to wing it with the help of my GPS.  Unfortunately, the GPS oesn't know anything about bike trails.  This is obviously an overlooked market that I hope GPS manufacturers will rush to satisfy.

The Mississippi River runs through downtown Minneapolis and accounts for the city's early prosperity.  At this particular location could be found the only falls along the entire Mississippi.  The falls provided water power to drive turbines, and the turbines drove the mills to turn Midwest wheat into flour.  At the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century, Minneapolis was the white flour capital of the world.  Gold Medal Flour and Pillsbury are both headquartered here.  There is a beautiful railway bridge that crosses the Mississippi to downtown called the "Stone Bridge", built on a gentle curve to afford train passengers an impressive view of the city's imposing flour mills that lined the waterfront.  The bridge has now been converted to a pedestrian bridge which cyclists use as well.

The city's glory days as a mill town served to spawn another major industry in Minneapolis, one that continues to the present day: the medical industry.  There were enough workers injured by the milling machinery who required prosthetic devices to found an industry to meet the need.  Minneapolis is now a major center for the development and production of a wide range of medical devices.

Today some of the old mills are being excavated, much like archeological ruins.  The tunnels that channeled the waters of the Mississippi through the turbines have been exposed to view again, and provide an interesting glimpse into the city's past.  Some of the old factories and warehouses are being rehabilitated and converted to 21st century uses --- many of them into condominiums.  It looks like Minneapolis is going through a period of major revitalization.

The Guthrie Theater definitely puts Minneapolis on the culture map of the United States.  Within the last few weeks, they opened up their new venue, built right on the banks of the Mississippi adjacent to downtown.  It's a magnificent piece of architecture both inside and out, with a cantilevered walkway jutting out towards the river.  There are more pictures of the Guthrie Theater in the photo gallery for this page.