Pine Lake Bikepacking

Pete parked in our driveway and we worked on getting ready to bikepack up to Pine Lake.  Pine Lake is a little lake in the Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest maybe 13 miles from our place.  While we were getting ready a cloudburst let loose.  It was a mostly clear day and no rain had been predicted.  We just stayed under the porch and continued getting ready.  After a bit we had everything on our bikes and were ready to take off - thankfully the rain had quit and things were sunny again.

About 5 minutes down the trail it started to rain again.  So we hunkered underneath a pavilion for a few minutes - and then kept riding under blue skies.

Both of us were riding Surly Krampugs.  Both of us also hate wearing too much on your back.  Pete had a small camera bag on his back (he'd taken it off during this picture) and I was wearing this kind of oversized waist pack thing.

Another cloudburst rolls to the south of us.  Thankfully it missed us because 1) from here on out we had no more shelters to hide under and 2) I had gone like a moron and not put any of my gear in dry bags.

The ~400 foot climb in the CNNF starts

Nearing our campsite at Pine Lake

Home for the night.  

Post-sunset light on Pine Lake 

I set up just off of the clearing where Pete had set up his tent

A time lapse of taking down my hammock and putting all of my gear on the bike.

Unfortunately we didn't get to see the maker of the tracks.  This is bear hunting country (which, I gotta say, I have mixed feeling about especially because they use dogs) and that means that the vast majority of bears around here are terrified of humans - the few I've seen I've mostly come upon and surprised them (if they knew I was there they would have made themselves scarce before I could see them) and have all but turned themselves inside out to put distance between us.   I admit that I kinda like bears being scared of me.

The last several miles were on the Tri-County Corridor.

Father's Day Ride - Horseshoe Lake

For my Father's Day ride Jenny and I saddled up for what turned out to be a three-hour ride on the Forest Roads in the Chequmegon-Nicolet National Forest.  Although technically my bike is a 29+ it is close enough that, to me, it is a fat bike.  Jenny has a Surly Wednesday so this was a fat bike ride.

When people talk about fat bikes quite often it is about their amazing float.  You can ride them on terrain where a regular mountain bike would sink into snow/sand/mud - they can truly go where other bikes just can't.  And, yes of course, this is amazing.  But one thing about fat bikes that doesn't get much press is just how comfy they are.  Sure you can ride a regular mountain bike down a gravel road...and it'll bounce you around quite a bit.  Enter the low-pressure, high-volume tires of a fat bike and things smooth out.  The bumps get swallowed by the huge tire.  When it really comes down to it I am a lazy, comfort loving animal.  Fatbikes for me!

Tracks of a mama and fawn (and, of course, bikes)

Mama and fawn ran together down the road in front of us and around the corner.   We couldn't see exactly what happened next but they got separated - and went a little frantic trying to get back to each other.

We came around a corner and there was a bear in front of us.  The wind was at our backs going directly towards it.  It not only didn't run but sauntered first away and then turned back towards us.  It was a ways off and never acted even slightly aggressive and Jenny and I weren't nervous (we've both had enough experience around black bears to know that they're almost always weenies and/or bluffers) but I must say I was happy to see it turn off the road - like I said, it was a ways off (the picture below is as far zoomed in as my camera would go) but if it had kept coming much I would have started to get a bit antsy.  We waited a bit, mainly in case it was a mom with cubs who were trailing behind, and then continued.

I guess if I was a mama deer I'd be frantic too knowing that there are bears around to eat my fawn.   

As I was riding along I glanced down and saw a curvy green stick that was evenly tapered on one end.  As it was about a foot or two off to my right side I didn't run it over but didn't notice it until it was about even with my bottom bracket.  It couldn't see what it was but I knew immediately that it was worthy of a turn around.  They saw to embrace your inner child and it might have been a really good stick.  I'm not totally sure but I think it's a Smooth Green Snake (I'm not being smartass that really is what they're called - Google told me so so it must be right)

In the three hours of riding we covered just shy of 21 miles.  Not all that fast - but since we care more about enjoying the ride that doesn't matter.  We saw so many interesting things that we may have just either blown by or had oxygen-debt induced tunnel-vision and missed.  (I've done both of those things far too often back in my racing days)