My Adventure Story
I had some trouble getting going this morning, starting with a late
breakfast--there were a lot of boisterous hungover wedding guests
competing for the waffle maker; I had some cereal and a couple of
mini-muffins, and my own coffee.
Underway shortly before nine; it was a bit chilly, and although the
casual look I'd taken at the forecast implied it would be a nice day
everywhere I would be traveling, it was mostly cloudy.
Just south of Fort Dodge, the gps told me to turn north, then a mile
later to make a u-turn and go back. Usually when this happens, it's
because I've placed a waypoint on a road I want to travel, and the gps
thinks another way is shorter. So I kept going, despite repeated
insistences that I reconsider. Turns out that when I set the waypoint on
an 'intersection' it had actually been placed on the overpass, and the
gps really wanted me to cross it. Roads are all pretty much at right
angles here, so it wasn't much of an issue, except that I followed a
somewhat tortuous route through Humboldt, where I turned east again. All
that variety helps keep me focused and awake, though.
Fuel in Garner just before noon, then through Clear Lake, which some may
remember as the ancestral home of Jesse Bags. I remember stopping
overnight here shortly after I got my original pair, and going past
their combination warehouse / living quarters. I hadn't wanted to bother
Al & Julie, but thought I might say hi if I saw them (which I didn't).
I wanted to cross the Mississippi somewhere I hadn't before; I picked
SR9 and Lansing. The bridge was a rusty affair, with steel-grate roadbed, and I was
only slightly reassured by the amount of traffic it was carrying,
apparently without incident.
The roads leading away from the river bluffs were quite entertaining; my
exuberance was kept in check by occasional light rain (so much for the
forecast). Up US14, then SR27 through Sparta and Black River Falls. As I
headed toward Neilsville on SR95, the clouds looked ominous; something
made me pull over to the side of the road and change into rain gloves.
Half a mile later the skies opened, and dumped buckets for about 10
minutes, then slacked off. I went through another squall southwest of
Marshfield, and saw occasional rainbows thereafter, but didn't hit any
more serious stuff.
Occasional glances at the thermometer reading of 57 had me thinking back
four days, when it had been double that. (It all averages out?)
Up SR13 to the west end of SR153, and I'm on the final stretch through
Stratford and a few miles of pink gravel to my brother's house, where
they'd planned the evening meal around my arrival, having monitored the
Spot live track.
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