Riding to the Start

On my tank of a Krampug (complete with frame bag, handlebar bag, "gas tank", and rear rack [that today was carrying a hammock and pillow]) it takes me about an hour and a half to get from our front door to Long Lake.  Maybe if I was so inclined it'd take me less but today I was just doodling along.  You see, I was riding there to meet up with a group ride, so I wanted to have some fuel left in the tank for that.  It only takes 30 mins to drive this but riding lets me, you guessed it, ride my bike (which I love) and not ride in a car (which I hate, especially when it's a bike able distance and I'm not hauling a cinder blocks or sheets of drywall.  Also: this is my little protest against having our society being virtually totally dependent on fossil fuels).  

Blueberries are ripe!

I wasn't sure, when I left, how long it would take me to get to Long Lake so I took my hammock so I could lay in it and kill time.

The wintergreen are ripe!

The ride to Horseshoe Lake started on some sandy ATV trails

Everybody swam in Horseshoe Lake.

After leaving Horseshoe the group rode back towards Long Lake where they were parked.  I rode with them most of the way and then turned around and headed home.

Shortly after I parted ways with the group it started to sprinkle.  It was light enough that just my wind vest kept me fairly warm and dry.

Mid August and signs of fall are around already here in northern Wisconsin.

Tunnel of green

It's been a wet May here in northern Wisconsin.  Starting with the snain we had on Mayday we had nearly 3 times the normal precipitation in May.  Since we're pretty far north it's reasonable to change the old saying to May showers bring June flowers.  

After fall and winter grey and brown the tunnel of green is back

Yesterday I hatched a plan to load my float tube, flippers, waders, and fishing rod into my bike trailer and head to a small lake in the CNNF.  I'm not one to gripe (too much) but all told the trailer was heavy enough that I built some character on the uphills.

I have never had one of those voices that commands attention.  So when I came around a corner and saw a bear in the road I said "Hey bear," in what I thought was a loud voice, she didn't hear.  And since she didn't hear I had time to fish my camera out.  Just as I was ready for the shot she saw me and ran.  Thankfully the bear ran the other way, but out of sight around the corner - it would have been ideal if I could have seen where it went...but she was obviously terrified of me so as I rode forward I shouted, "Hey bear!" several times and didn't see her again.

My bike isn't light.  It's a steel frame with 50mm rims and 3" wide tires.  I have a frame bag too and carry around an assortment of stuff.  Most of the time that stuff is dead weight.  Occasionally it saves my ass.   I'm not gonna stop carrying a spare tube just because I hardly ever need it.

 The lake I was headed to usually takes me roughly 1:15 to get to when my bike is unladen. This time, with the weight in the trailer and a bit of a headwind it took nearly two hours. 

First I unloaded the trailer and pumped up my float tube. 

No rest for the weary - in addition to powering myself here my legs were called on to propel me when I was in the water. 

I just like water.  Lakes, rivers, springs I'm just drawn to them.  And this picture is why.  Not just because it's a cute baby turtle, the turtle is just a reminder of how life is so intertwined with water - you can see so many cool things around water, including things as simple as the reflection as the surface is rippled by wind.  This turtle's shell is about an inch wide.  I floated right by and then circled around to get a picture. 

When I was done fishing I flipped my float tube over to dry in the sun. 

I had to prepare fuel/food for the haul back home.  Dehydrated barbecue spaghetti was on the menu.  Just for fun I didn't bring any fuel for the stove as it burns wood and though I'm not necessarily averse to hauling around a bit of extra weight, well, why haul wood when you're going to the woods?

We're less than a month from the longest day of the year which, at this latitude, means that's it's pushing nine o'clock when the sun sets.  I got home around eight so I wasn't really risking riding in the dark but the shadows were getting long by the time I was getting close to home.

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