Segment #29: Blue Ox Trail,
Bemidji-International Falls, MN-Canada 9/17-18/13
Start
|
Bemidji,
MN
|
47.46492,-94.85204
|
NS miles 79.6
|
End
|
Int’Falls
MN-Canada
|
48.60778,-93.40148
|
Trl lgth 107 Ride 120 miles
|
Ride
12:56hr
|
AVS
9.2
|
MXS
19.2 mph
|
DST
28.5
|
Temp
66
|
Kcal
9797
|
It is night and day between these two trails. For the twelve hours I was on the Blue Ox trail, I never saw another vehicle, biker or hiker. I was surprised no All Terrain Vehicles (ATV’s) could be found. Maybe there is more activity on the weekend?
This is the first sign on the Blue Ox Trail after starting the ride north on the Paul Bunyan Trail |
Loose rock over compact trail equals a slow, jolting ride. |
At first the Blue Ox Trail was similar to limestone trails found in many states around the country, but after a while the
packed gravel gave way to patches of soft loose sand and 3-4 inch loose rocks.
I
bet the loose sand was the result of ATV’s on the trail.
This is the only rail trail I have ridden that allows ATV’s, but I
have been on other trails, that like the Blue Ox, allows snowmobiles and horses. If at all possible, I
will avoid ATV accessible trails in the future. I don’t think snowmobiles make for a damaged
trail, in fact they likely pack the snow and thereby help compact the gravel. Thank goodness four
wheelers didn’t abuse the trail as much as I thought they might.
I
was running out of daylight so Chris snatched us a motel room in Northome, MN. The
hunting/fishing motel was six miles from where I stopped. Being too pooped to pop, Chris came back and
hauled my buns up to the motel where I crashed and burned. The next morning Chris slept-in and I rode
back to the spot where he picked me up the night before. We drove back to
Northome and ate at Mandy’s. Some of these small town cafes have the best
breakfast money can buy. Mandy did not disappoint. Before my breakfast had time
to settle (I ate too much!), I was
back on the Blue Ox Trail, jolting along at six to seven miles per hour. It
took me until after lunch to make it to Big Falls and meet Chris for a Philly
Steak sandwich and onion rings. Wow did that taste good. The Big Falls
Municipal Liquor Store likely caused a bar and grill across the street to close
down. A town the size Big Falls can’t be expected to have two similar joints a
hundred feet from each other. This place had all the décor of an “up north” bar
and grill. There were mountings of Elk, Deer and Moose adorning the walls.
Chris rode with me out of Big Falls until the trail stopped
and diverted back to highway 71. He then rode back to the car. Because the bar
maid at the Liquor Store said she had just driven her four wheeler through two
feet of water over the trail in several spots half way between Little Fork and
Big Falls, I chose to not try to get back to the trail. The ride continued to
International Falls on the shoulder of highway 71. Given there was only a car
or truck every 2-3 minutes, and the shoulder was four feet of smooth asphalt, I
could make pretty good time. Despite an improved riding speed averaging ten
miles per hour, I was worried I would not get to the border before it would
turn dark. So again, six miles short of the target, Chris picked me up and we
drove to International Falls, got on our bikes and rode to the border check
point.
The Blue Ox Trail was a challenge but
we knocked down over a hundred mile a section of my border to border riding goal. Glad to have that behind me. Without Chris I would not have made it. We didn’t get thrown in jail, never got cold and wet and the
wind was at our back. I doubt if this trail will ever be rideable for any bicycle
other than a mountain bike.
Chris scopes out the Elk heads while waiting for lunch. The hunters at the bar said these animals would weigh up to 1000 lbs. |
Chris wails over my taking this picture and the harassment he was getting from the Canadian Border cops. Our bikes are out the window.
|
Chris with his permit to go back to the USA. Only to get raked over the coals a second time. |
This is where the trip gets dicey. The bridge between the
USA and Canada is owned by a private company, Boise I think. Truckers and
workers use the bridge. The only person at the booth before passing onto the
bridge is a toll taker. There isn’t a toll for bicycles so when Chris asked
about going forward, the attendant waved him on. I was following him, so I got
the same wave to go on. We rode a few blocks crossing the bridge, seeing a
white painted line and then the “Welcome to Canada” sign. We rode our bikes up
to the gate and out came a border guard. “You guys need to go inside”. All we
wanted to do was take our pictures by the Canada sign and go back to the USA.
No, that wasn’t possible, we were already in Canada and the Canadian border
agents needed us to step inside. Since we had not stopped on the US side and
Chris left his driver’s license in the car, we or more appropriately, HE, was in
big trouble. The agents didn’t harass me maybe because I was too old to be an
effective terrorist and I had my driver’s license.
Chris could not leave to get his license in the car but they contemplated
letting me back to the car for his license. After some more brow beating, the Canadian
agents printed off a document for Chris to take back to the US agents. So we shot a picture and headed back to the
US only to be brow beaten even more intently by US agents.After repeated questioning
about what were we doing? Why were we crossing the border without sufficient
documentation? Why we didn’t have
passports, the US agents told me to go get Chris’s drivers license. I jumped on
my bike shot out of there. As I approached the car that was parked at the
International Falls Welcome Center, the same Welcome Center that the lady said
there was no problem with crossing into Canada, I heard Chris yell behind me. “We
don’t need my license.” “I wasn’t in any of their systems”. They must have deduced
that we were not Al-Qaeda and we could go our merry way back to the US of A.
More than 40 years ago, Connie and I, with Chris and Geoff aboard, went through
the border without a hitch---my how times have changed! In our debriefing
session at the car, we decided similar misunderstood border guidelines are
breached frequently, especially with bicyclists. There were no clear signs as
to what to do. The toll taker waved us on through. There was not stop or any other
signs indicating the need to stop on the American side and we were in Canada
quicker than a fruit fly darting around on my computer screen. As part of the
trip planning, I had called the International Falls Welcome Center to confirm
that a driver’s license was all we needed. Yet at the border they told us we
should have had passports---go figure.
Where are the signs saying stop here? Just a the only sign we saw was one pointing to Canada (black and white sign in center) |
It was after six p.m. and I still had to finish my ride by
biking six miles back to where Chris picked me up. I put on all my lights and
headed south. It took me only a half hour to complete the six miles. By midnight we were in St. Cloud again.
When I looked out in the morning the parking lot was wet and
in the distance there were dense black clouds. We were only on the road twenty
minutes or so and the clouds unloaded. Hail (some stones were 1 ½ inches) with
wind gusts over fifty miles per hour. I could not see beyond the hood of the
car so I pulled into the front of residential area. The hail was being slowed
by a huge tree which prevented dents in the car. But as the water rose around
the car and leaves and limbs were coming off the trees. I had to get out from under the trees for fear
of a major cruncher falling on the car. The streets were flooded but I just
followed the local traffic trough the instant lakes. It was testy for about forty
minutes and then the storm moved on. Chris took over driving and back to Iowa
we went with great weather all the way to Chris’ house. But while we were
unloading the care another black horizon was developing. I took off and drove
80 mph to get and stay ahead of the storm. There was considerable wind damage
west of downtown Des Moines but Chris’ place was spare and my NASCAR driving got me back to
Coralville without damage.
Chris and I shouldering up to Paul Bunyan. Going north to Canada from Bemidji is Babe's Blue Ox Trail. Paul's trail goes over one hundred miles south to Brainerd |
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