Start
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S of Brainerd, MN
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46.32485,-94.20749
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NS
miles 79.6
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End
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Bemidji, MN
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47.48771,-94.87906
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Trl
lgth 112 Ride 109 miles
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Ride 10:16 hr
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AVS 10.4
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MXS 18.5 mph
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DST 109
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T 68/46
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Kcal 8087
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After driving to Brainerd the previous
night and crashing at the American Best Value Inn, I got up, ate a hearty
breakfast and then rode three miles north from the motel north to assure I
would have overlapping latitude with the Willard Munger Trail at Willow River.
In the process, I located Micki’s Pizza and Subs where the Jefferson Bus Line
unloaded. Lucky me the Brainerd Public Library was directly across the
street. I locked the Trek to the rack at
the library and used a smaller chain lock to fix my seat and rear luggage rack.
Both of these items have quick release devices that can tempt someone to heist
them. Locking the seat gave me solace that I would have something to sit on
while pumping up the 100+ mile Paul Bunyan Trail.
By 8:30 a.m. I was on the road to
Bemidji to leave my car and take the bus back to Brainerd. I had purchased my
ticket online so all I had to do was locate the John Glass Fieldhouse at
Bemidji State University for an 11:15 a.m. bus pick-up. The bus ride was
straight forward other than a major traffic jam due to road construction. As I looked out the window, I could see
darkening of the western skies. “Hurry up
bus---I don’t want to ride in the rain”, I said to myself.
The bus got into Brainerd forty-five
minutes behind schedule. I went straight to the library and asked a likely
looking bicycle rider how I could find the Paul Bunyan Trailhead,. It is worthy
of note that I purposely avoided asking the grey haired seventy something
librarian that question. After stammering around a bit, the guy I thought would
know was beginning to worry me. “Another
Cush’s Theorem causality in the making “, I thought. He finally said, “Maybe you ought to ask that
lady”.
 |
PBT trailhead that the librarian lady directed me
to find with precisions. It started raining shortly
after departing from Brainerd. Note raingear :-) |
Again I thought, Not the seventy
something lady surely?” The seventy
something lady overheard us and started drawing me a map. She put an “X” on the
map and drew in streets and paths as accurately as a National Geographic
cartographer. She was “spot on”. Now I need to retract my bias toward old
ladies as a source of directions. Cush’s Theorem run amuck.
I got on the trail about three o’clock
and was into the ride about forty-five minutes when the dreariness’ set in.
 |
At Misswa the rain stopped for a few minutes
so I just had to take this picture that reminded
me of Shamus (see previous post) |
It
was drizzling and getting colder. It was sixty eight degrees at noon but that
changed. From my back pack, I dug out my rain suit and wore it the rest of the
way to Pine River. I had reserved a motel in Pine River so I had a warm place
to unload my soggy clothes. The rain wasn’t as big a deal as it was
sweat---non-breathing raingear is not the best option. GoreTex is the material of choice to keep
dry. I turned up the head and laid everything out to dry. By the time I got
back from a steak at nearby restaurant, the wet stuff was dry. I love the way
bike clothes dry.
I was up with the birds and ready to
hit the trail by 7 a.m. It was a bit dark when I took off on the trail and the
same drizzle that prevailed the day before was hanging around. So it rained the
whole day---seventy miles of Yuk. Thank goodness the wind was out of the southeast
and it pushed me northward toward Bemidji. Many areas I passed would have been
absolutely stunning with the sun’s help, but I pretty much passed through the
surroundings with limited gratification. There were some hilly, walked my bike,
terrain around Walker, Minnesota; otherwise it was a flat former railroad right
away trail.
The Paul Bunyan Trail region is
rich in history, having been inhabited for centuries before French explorers
came to the area. The Ojibwe and Dakota were present in the area until
explorers entered the region and the logging and railroad industry took over. The
Paul Bunyan State Trail follows an abandoned railroad corridor built in 1893
and last owned by Burlington Northern. The corridor passes through Boreal
forests, along with more than twenty lakes and ten rivers/streams.
After lunch at the Happy Moose
Bar and Grill in Walker, I headed out toward Bemidji. The wind then changed to
northwest to test my stamina. Because of the rain, I didn’t bring my Ipod so
the last thirty miles were a long thirty miles. The signage in Bemidji could
have been better in that I went right through downtown Bemidji and past Bemidji
State University without realizing it. To add insult to injury, when the paved
trail ended, it joined a primitive trail that did not look bicycle friendly.
And it wasn’t, After fighting a rugged soft trail for two or three miles, I
decided I must be on the wrong trail and it was time to turn around. Luckily I
stopped a car and asked, “which way to Bemidji?”. Although the guy looked like
a Harley Biker, obese, long scraggly hair, tons of tattoos and generally curmudgeon
like fellow, he did give me the correct directions. The second case of Cush’s
Theorem run amuck. I got to the car by six o’clock and headed out of town shortly
thereafter. The goal was to complete one more trail, the Gandy Dancer in St.
Croix Falls Wisconsin, I figured I could
drive another three hours before before
heading back to Iowa. I gave GPS Trixie full control
and followed her savvy directions toward St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin. One hundred sixty miles later, Trixie had me
in Milaca, Minnesota, sixty-five miles from St. Croix Falls.
Since
it was such a jaunt to get to the Tunnel Hill Trail, I decided I would start riding at the
tunnel itself while the weather was clear and it was getting late in the afternoon. In addition, rain was forecast
for the second riding day so pictures on the trail were best taken the first day. There is a little
town named Tunnel Hill, IL with a nice trail head near the tunnel. This is where I first began my Tunnel
Hill Trail travels for 2013. Trail literature and guide books advise bike riders to tote a
flashlight when going through the tunnel. Although I had a headlight, it was
not needed since the tunnel was only 543 feet long. I did however follow the advice
of not peddling through the tunnel. One can become disorientated with the tunnel
walls whizzing past and end-up in a skinned-up heap. At times I have become a
little dizzy riding past trestle fencing on a long bridge but nothing as treacherous as
driving at night through a construction site lined with reflectorized safety barrels.
The strobe-effect
of safety barrels causes me big time wooziness, especially with a huge truck aiming
bright lights at my tail feathers. 
