Author: Mark

Today was probably the coolest, cloudiest day of my entire journey so far. It was a bit like being at home. I didn’t mind at all and almost reached for a second layer once or twice. But it stayed comfortable and dry all day after early morning rain that I missed. Under normal circumstances this would not be notable; but in the context of this month of cycling it is very much the exception.

I think I found the source of the pandemic

Other elements were less remarkable today. The landscape was mostly flat and the countryside was pleasant but not especially memorable. The standout features were the series of small towns that I passed through every hour or so, linked together by the same railway bike path that I used yesterday. It saw me through half or more of today’s miles without changing very much. Close to each town it would take on a lovely smooth tarmac surface, then it would change abruptly to crushed limestone for the intervening miles. It was all pretty predictable. But it worked and kept me away from the trucks and cars.

Railway restrooms

In each town was the old train depot, usually a small building with a rounded end that stood apart from everything else where the old tracks would have been. Today, they have mostly been repurposed by their community – often as public “restrooms” (toilets) – and are generally in a very good state of repair. There was a sense of civic pride on display. One town offered a comprehensive bicycle maintenance station, which I used to pump up my tyres. Everywhere had a healthy range of bedding plants and hanging baskets on display and it all felt cared for. The towns were mostly founded in the 1850s so there is a sense of history and nostalgia about them, but on a modest scale. The main streets tend to run at 90 degrees to the busy through traffic, so the business districts are pleasantly free from noise and, in most cases, appear to have a good range of services on offer, including a few very stylish old cinemas that are still in business. These may not be holiday destinations; but there are many worse places in the world to take time out from cycling, even if the cafe menus remain stubbornly familiar and not particularly imaginative. There are only so many ways to put meat in between two pieces of bread!

Tomorrow should take me to within sight of Canada, a short ferry ride away, all being well. And then another adventure will begin. One more day of Michigan first. This is a three-day state and I am still near the middle of it.

Well It turns out I did make it onto the telly, for all of about 2 seconds. And no mention of cycling. It’s a first, though. The link is in the comments section from yesterday if you want to see the defaced “Bronze Fonz” close up.

Today – a much cooler, cloudier day – normal service was resumed, with 80 miles of cycling in an eastward direction, moving away from the shores of Lake Michigan towards the centre of Michigan state. I wasn’t sure what to expect. It turned out to be pretty flat, at least until half way when I reached the very pleasant city of Grand Rapids. I made it most of the way there along another old railway turned into a cycle path. Imagine cycling in a very straight, flat line along a traffic-free country lane, for mile after mile, with both sides lined with trees and bushes, and you have it more or less as it was. But it did the job, and before I knew it I was approaching the surprisingly high-rise downtown area of Grand Rapids. It was much bigger and more important feeling than I expected, although it was also pretty quiet. There was a huge convention centre and a very big, old fashioned hotel. They stood alongside several plate glass office buildings, all near the wide river, which a I crossed on the “blue bridge”- an old traffic free box girder railway bridge.

Blue bridge

One of the main streets in town was mostly given over to eating and drinking, with outside tables on both sides and twinkly lights on all the trees. It was a very pleasant place to take lunch. Grand Rapids is not a city that has featured high in my consciousness, even with my many US connections and visits over the years. I feel it may deserve a little more attention.

Grand Rapids

Despite its impressive downtown, it didn’t take all that long to get either in or out of the city, and I made good progress along now much more undulating roads as far as the pretty town of Ada, which features a historic covered bridge. I didn’t know about covered bridges until I first came to Pennsylvania when I was a student conducting a long distance love affair. They are rather splendid. I think the point of the wooden roof has something to do with keeping the bridge snow-free in winter; but don’t quote me on that. Anyway, not long afterwards they released the film The Bridges of Madison County, making covered bridges more of an international phenomenon. I haven’t seen one in years until today. It was in good working order and I was able to cycle across.

After that I once again found myself on cycle paths. I was so pleased by all this that I failed to notice they weren’t taking me where I needed to go. The necessary adjustments were made and I followed a roller coaster of a road through pretty woodland for several miles. I haven’t really had chance to play “it’s a bit like” on this trip because nothing has been much like anywhere else I know; but this section really reminded me of the Charnwood Forest in Leicestershire. But only until I arrived in the very pleasant town of Lowell, “where two rivers meet”. In front of the obligatory crop silos were many old brick facades lining the Main Street, with shops selling retro clothes and other cool stuff. I wasn’t here to shop. I did, however, stop to take a picture of the old paddle steamer that is now permanently moored in the centre of town. Behind it was a wide expanse of water (the Plat River) with a population of swans gliding about. It was tempting to stay, but I was still more than an hour away from my destination, so I pressed on and once again found myself on an old railway trail: the Grand River trail. I had this almost to myself until just before the end of the day, coming in to Ionia, where a I met three friendly local guys with bikes, resting on the old rail bridge over the Grand River. We chatted while they puffed on their joints. Maybe this made a difference; but they were very impressed by my cycling exploits.

I’m staying in the town of Ionia, which seems very pleasant, too. Across the road from my hotel are the extensive Ionia Free Fairgrounds and over the next three days it will host the Hippy Living Fair, which looks like it will be a pretty big deal. If only I had known. But I have another 80 miles to cover tomorrow in my quest to reach Canada. Maybe next year.

Regular followers of this blog will know that I am partial to riding on ferries. Up until today, I have not been able to incorporate a ferry in my coast to coast journey; but that omission has now been put straight. Just a couple of miles along the waterfront from downtown Milwaukee, a fast catamaran departs twice daily for Muskegon, taking two and a half hours to reach the opposite shore of this truly Great Lake (the largest lake entirely within the borders of one country, apparently). You enter a new time zone when you arrive in Muskegon, so it is as if you took three and a half hours to get there. And since I fell into a deep sleep after an hour or so, I wouldn’t honestly know the difference.

I think it was probably a reaction to the motion of the boat, which was wobbly enough to make walking around a tricky business. I stayed up on the sun deck for maybe fifteen minutes; but it was too too windy to remain outside. The weather was fine; but this is a serious body of water, like the sea but without the salt. Once Milwaukee’s skyline had slipped below the horizon, there was nothing to see in any direction except blue water.

After checking out of my downtown apartment, in the sumptuous old Mackie Building, I had a couple of hours free in Milwaukee before I left, during which I managed to grab breakfast in the public market, which was a very cool establishment just on the edge of downtown, full of tempting produce and funky stalls. It reminded me of Granville Island market in Vancouver, if that helps. It helped me, because I was there only a month ago. Anyway, well worth a look, should you be either in Milwaukee or Vancouver. Or both.

I also found time to record a TV interview with the local CBS affiliate station, although I see no evidence that my interview made it to their website. I was visiting the life-size statue of Henry Winkler, on the attractive Riverside Walk, also known as the “Bronze Fonz” (if you are of a certain age, you may recall that Happy Days was set in these parts). There was a camera crew in attendance because overnight his head had been painted black. I chatted to the cameraman and he and his reporter decided that I was a more interesting story, so we did a two minute interview on the spot. They said it would be in the local news at noon on their channel, and then on the internet. But I can’t find it, so maybe something bigger came up!

So now I am in Michigan, my tenth state of this adventure. I liked downtown Muskegon, which had some interesting old buildings, some cool public art, and some good choices for food and drink. I ate in the Unruly Brewery, enjoying their choice in music and an excellent burger and IPA. But at 7pm, the pub quiz started so I took the chance to slip away to my motel, 25 minutes cycle away, through suburbs that started out nice enough and got increasingly more run down and poor looking. These were the worst road surfaces I had seen in the country and the streets had a real sense of being left behind. My motel is a bit the same, although the room is fine and it was certainly very cheap. It seems you get what you pay for, so no complaints. But the Wi-Fi is poor here, so apologies for the lack of decent photos. I will correct that tomorrow when I return to the more upscale level of establishment to which I have become accustomed.

Today was a tale of two cities and a lot of cycle paths. It began in Madison, the state capital, which I had time to explore a little more. What a great city! There can be no denying that it enjoys a superb location, sandwiched between two big, big lakes, just a few blocks apart. The hugely impressive State Capitol building, with its imperious shiny white dome, sits directly in between on the highest ground. It is cruciform in shape, under the dome, but it is orientated at a jaunty 45 degrees to the grid layout of the streets, which somehow adds to the sense of style and importance it pervades. Madison is not a high rise city and it is better for it, allowing the state Capitol to dominate proceedings as it must have done since it was first built.

I left town along the lakeshore cycle loop which took me through delightful neighbourhoods of pretty old American style homes. I felt I could happily live in any one of them. Eventually, after a last look across the blue waters of the lake, I turned my back and rode off into the country along surprisingly quiet roads. I think I chose well. I was soon on my own, breezing through pleasant fields and not much else until a couple of hours later I reached the lovely small town of Lake Mills. Like Madison, it enjoys a natural lakeside setting; but this was a much more provincial place, with a big green park in the central square and well appointed older buildings all around. I found a nice cafe for brunch, just in time. Hunger was starting to take hold, as often happens about this time of day.

Fully refuelled, I pressed on and made my first foray onto a cycle path that looked like it might run all the way to Milwaukee. It was an old railway line, surfaced with crushed limestone and running east straight as a die, far into the distance. Both sides were lined with trees, so except for the odd wooden bridge crossing of a river or stream, there really wasn’t much variety. But the riding was quiet and efficient and I was happy enough for a time.

Needless to say, in these hot conditions, I began to think of my next cold drink, and I wasn’t going to get it on this endless green lane. So I spent the next hour dipping in and out of the nearby road, which was also very quiet, to keep my thirst at bay. Luckily, as the day wore on, the sky clouded over and the heat became much more bearable.

At the pretty little town of Dousman I stopped for ice cream, as is the custom, and from then on the cycle paths were paved and took me the last twenty miles or so right into the heart of downtown Milwaukee. I might not have worked it all out alone; but I was helped by a kind and friendly local cyclist who got me through the junctions painlessly, giving us time to chat as we rode.

These final few miles were my fastest, partly because it was easy going, but mainly because on a couple of occasions I was passed by young, serious cyclists on very expensive bikes, out on training rides. By my own standards, I am pretty fit at the moment, so heavy panniers or not, I can often keep up with them if I try. At least one of them was most surprised to see me still there after he thought he’d left me behind five minutes earlier. I shouldn’t get pleasure from doing this; but I’m afraid I do!

Milwaukee is new to me and my first impressions are very positive. It is big – much, much bigger than Madison – and feels like quite an old city with a lot of tall, grand old buildings. I am staying right in the middle of downtown, a couple of minutes from the fabulous city hall with its iconic clock tower that stands where two streets divide. It would grace any city. Strangely, though, I found it surprisingly hard to find somewhere inviting for dinner. Milwaukee is known for brewing beer and I didn’t want to miss out on that pleasure. Eventually, I found somewhere that provided both food and a very good local IPA from just up the road by the lakefront, so I ended the evening happy.

I have booked onto the 12.30pm ferry across Lake Michigan, which is something a I have always wanted to do. I will lose another hour on the way and enter Eastern time when I get to Muskegon. I’m not going any further tomorrow. This counts as a rest day before I embark on the next section that will take me across Michigan and through Canada to Niagara Falls. I have no details planned for that yet, so I need a little respite from cycling to get all that in order. Most days, I do little else than cycle, eat and blog. It’s not a bad life; but even trans-continental adventure cyclists need a little downtime.

Cycling long distances is always easier when the wind is behind you. It certainly was today and, despite the continuing extreme heat, I enjoyed a smooth ride across half the state of Wisconsin with little fuss. I left behind the Mississippi River and turned due east along the Wisconsin River valley. This is another substantial waterway; broad but much shallower and a great place to kayak, from what I saw around me on the roofs of passing cars and in the water. The river was full of sandbars and lined with many an attractive looking beach to spend a hot afternoon. But I had more than 100 miles to cover, so there was no time for that today.

The morning took me along another “scenic byway” (state route 60) which was delightfully quiet for the first couple of hours. I paused for breakfast in the first town of substance, Boscobel, and stumbled upon a wonderful piece of Americana. From the outside it looked just like any other A&W fast food restaurant and drive-through on the edge of a small town. But inside, when I approached the serving counter, I was told to choose a table and phone in my order. Every table had a menu and an old telephone which connected you directly to the kitchen. I could see the people I was speaking to; but it was fun to go along with a unique experience that has somehow been preserved despite the passage of time. Sure enough, my order arrived in a few minutes. My young waitress was very shy and she said a couple of the phones had broken and there was talk of removing them. I told her that I really hoped that doesn’t happen. There was also an old jukebox in the restaurant. It was churning out country music, which is very popular and has been the choice of many an establishment. It’s not really my cup of tea; but I prefer it to a lot of the modern rubbish you hear elsewhere. It certainly went with my present surroundings.

Direct line

The roads got longer and straighter and eventually, after the sleepy, small town of Muscoda, my route merged with the larger national route 14, and more traffic began to appear. But it was never unpleasant and I had a wide shoulder to use. I expected more hills than I got today. They never came. Wisconsin gives the impression of being a state that produces a lot of fruit, vegetables and cheese, and it is sold by the roadside in large farm markets that also have a lot of children’s play equipment. But none of them seemed to have a cafe, like you feel sure they would at home, or I would have stopped. You just can’t pass up an opportunity to take on fluid.

My late lunch stop was a trip down memory lane, too. I think it was once a drive-in restaurant but the canopy out front now housed picnic tables. I sat inside where there was AC and entered a world from the era of Elvis. The soundtrack was Blues Brothers meets the Commitments and the whole place was full of character and nostalgia. I had a huge salad and an even bigger root beer float, which set me up perfectly for an afternoon of riding straight towards the state capital, Madison. I cycled right in to the heart of the city, which is dominated by the University of Wisconsin. I really liked what I saw; but there is more to explore in the morning. The state Capitol building stands on a strip of land in the centre of town between two large lakes. I got a view this evening across the water. It is definitely worth a return trip.

Madison

Tomorrow’s slightly shorter ride takes me from Madison across to the larger city of Milwaukee, on the shores of Lake Michigan. I’m looking forward to that. I don’t know any of these places. It will be another hot day; but hopefully the weather will break on Wednesday. Either way, reaching the Great Lakes, when I get there, feels like a big deal in the context of this journey.

Today was another scorcher. It’s not been as tough to cycle in 100 degree F heat as I imagined, because you create your own breeze and it’s possible to stay hydrated by stopping at regular intervals and buying cold drinks at gas stations. But I will be glad when things cool back down in a couple of days.

I have had more than my fair share of blue skies and sunshine this summer, which is wonderful. I promise I am not complaining. But it requires the application of copious amounts of sun cream every morning, which further delays my usual slow start. It really isn’t a choice. I don’t want any part of me getting burned. I enjoy the AC at every stop and often drink a bottle of root beer in the shop before I go back outside. There is almost a routine to my stops, which generally include a cafe for lunch and somewhere later on for ice cream, interspersed with gas station stops whenever they arise. Sometimes that includes food as well. It depends how I’m feeling. The gaps between places have reduced, but can still be close to a couple of hours. So you plan ahead.

My journey today took me along the West Bank of the Mississippi River for more than 90 miles, and it was a pleasure. This is rewarding country, a mixture of wide flood plain, open river channel and high, tree covered, sandstone bluffs on either bank, far apart but visible. It never got boring. The roads were quiet and there was usually a boat or two to watch, as well as the now customary freight train action on the riverside railroads, one on either bank.

My lunch stop was in LaCrescent, MN, the self-styled apple capital of Minnesota. In a popular cafe in town, I proved a hit with a group of teenage waitresses. They sat me at a counter by their till and we chatted about my strange accent, my ride and where in England one of their cousins lives. It was great fun. They were quite surprised to learn that they, too, have accents! They served up a very good Eggs Benedict, too, and a passable mug of tea. So I left feeling upbeat about the world, despite the heat.

Two hours downstream, I collected my 48th US a state, Iowa. Just two more to go. I think I only passed through four small towns in Iowa; but I left favourably impressed. Lansing was my favourite. Here I stopped at a very popular ice cream cafe. It was in an old gas station. You ordered at a window and sat under the canopy at picnic tables, which was OK in the shade. They brought you your sundae to the table. I had a view of the river and I was pretty pleased with the whole thing. A welcome sign to the town said “Lansing – where eagles soar”. I looked up to the sky and there they were: half a dozen eagles wheeling high up on a thermal.

The last 20 miles got hilly and I had to overcome some long climbs and enjoy a couple of exciting descents. And then I had one last big bridge to cross and I was back in Wisconsin and my ride’s end at the town of Prairie du Chien. Tomorrow I will leave the Mississippi behind, rather reluctantly because it has been a good friend for more than two days of great riding. One lady today told me of another British cyclist who recently passed through pulling a trailer in which they kept a tuba. They apparently traveled like this right up the Mississippi from New Orleans to its source, playing recitals along the way. Maybe I missed a trick.

The Mississippi River has dominated proceedings today. I have never been far away from it, and I have crossed it twice: first into Wisconsin in the morning and then back over to Minnesota late afternoon. Actually, strictly speaking, I crossed from Hastings this morning without leaving Minnesota, because just across from Hastings, at the town of Prescott, Wisconsin, is the place where the impressively large St Croix River joins the Mississippi. From here to the north, Wisconsin and Minnesota are separated by the St Croix River, and from here to the south, by the Mississippi River. Anyway, it was all lovely and I arrived in Prescott ready for breakfast after watching all kinds of water craft messing about in the sunshine on both broad stretches of water.

Hastings

Little Prescott, with its clock tower and large, lifting bridges for both road and rail, was a busy place this morning. I found a cafe on the Main Street and enjoyed their loaded hash browns and a cup of tea, while I watched large numbers of ageing motorbikers come and go on their Harley Davidsons. Today was the Saturday of Labour Day weekend, and it must have been a special day for the local bikers, because they were everywhere, all day long. Here in Prescott they seemed to gather under a huge American flag just over the road from me. As well as the more traditional bikes, quite a few riders were on 3 wheel versions, some with 2 wheels at the front, others at the back. Route 34, which hugged the Mississippi on the Wisconsin side, appeared to be a draw for them. It is a designated Scenic Byway, as well forming part of the Mississippi River Trail cycle route. I didn’t mind them. More importantly there were absolutely no trucks out today. The bikers often waved to me. Most of them had a pillion rider, generally their female partner, and hardly any wore helmets or leathers. They were all enjoying the warm breeze in their faces, and very warm it was, too. The high was about 97F, although mercifully the sky clouded over later on, which helped.

The Mississippi River was a fine companion today. I couldn’t always see it; but it was never too far away. It is a huge expanse of water, even this far north in its journey. For about twenty two miles today it took the form of an even larger, natural lake, Lake Pepin. This was created behind the natural dam made by glacial deposits from the adjoining Chippewa River. It is up to two and a half miles wide and a haven for boats of many kinds.

Along this stretch I passed through a series of delightful small towns. I especially liked Stockholm, decorated in Swedish yellow and blue, and home to several enticing small cafés and live music. I stopped at the “General Store and Pie”, and enjoyed a slice of blackberry and raspberry pie with ice cream. It was very good. That kept me going until it was time to cross back over the Big river to Wabasha, which was decked out in German flags. As I rode over the high bridge, an enormous procession of conjoined barges passed beneath me. This is very much a working river and each barge is huge on its own. Tied together three abreast and four long, it created a vessel about a quarter of a mile in length. All this was being pushed slowly from the back by a tug-like boat. It seemed quite a feat to me to steer and manoeuvre all of that with any degree of close control. You needed a lot of space!

Back in Minnesota, I thought Wabasha was quite lovely, even though its Main Street was completely dug up. I still managed to find a place to buy myself a delicious Rhubarb crumble ice cream to fuel up for the remaining 30 plus miles down the river to Winona, today’s biggest town. I arrived at my motel just as the sun was setting over the miles of lagoons and lily ponds stretching across the Mississippi River valley, filing the wide space between the rocky bluffs on either side.

I will spend all of tomorrow following the Big River further down stream and then cross it one last time. The heat and the constantly chirping crickets make it feel more like the steamy lower reaches in the American South. A quick look at the map shows I am much closer to Canada. Either way, I am coping with the heat, drinking huge amounts and taking regular breaks. In this part of the country, it seems I’m never too far from the next place to pause and recover. Which, on balance, I am only too happy to do!

Today it was time to move forward with my ride. I did so, initially, in the welcome company of my friend, Chris, who saw me off the premises and a couple of hours into my journey from the farm, along quiet country roads and bike paths. We paused after an hour for coffee and cake at a new place in the attractive small town of Carver, which sits on the Minnesota River at what was its highest navigable point. Here we attracted the attention of a group of friendly Jehovah’s Witnesses, also having a coffee break from their work, and I was asked a lot of questions about my ride, including things like what do I eat, and where do I sleep. Fair questions; but easily answered. One I often get is what do I do as a job that makes it possible for me to make a trip like this. That takes a little more explaining and I have to simplify my answer; but it also reinforces my sense of good luck and privilege.

After passing through the town of Chaska, Chris turned back for home and I carried on alone towards downtown Minneapolis. It was a bit fiddly; but an hour or so later I had navigated my way along bike paths and quieter roads into the middle of the big city. I stopped for lunch on a street that offered seemingly endless food options, and enjoyed a coal-fired pizza. I chose a lemon-flavoured goats cheese version with spinach leaves that kept blowing off in the breeze. The waiter insisted on bringing me replacement leaves, weighed down with a tea spoon. It was good. What a different world!

After riding just a couple of streets from the tallest buildings, I reached the banks of the Mississippi River at a historic bridging point, just above the place where today there is a large weir and a big lock. The banks are lined with old flour mills, some of which are now repurposed as fancy urban dwellings, with modern glass juxtaposing with deliberately half-ruined shells of old industrial buildings. The overall effect, looking back over the water from the historic Stone Arch Bridge (1883) – now a pedestrian and cycle bridge- was pleasing, and worth the detour I was making from my straight line.

On the eastern side of the river is the University of Minnesota, a large complex of grand buildings, old and new, on the bluff above the broad Mississippi. Several other impressive bridges spanned the blue waters, carrying different type of transport. This was easily the biggest place I had seen since Portland, perhaps at all, on this ride. But as large as it was, it didn’t feel overwhelming and I enjoyed cycling along its bike-friendly streets and paths. I followed one south along the river bank until it emerged up on the bluff near the start of Summit Avenue.

I was now in Saint Paul, Minneapolis’ twin, and a place I had once spent a few weeks with the same friends in a different house back in the summer of 1992. I had fond memories and I was keen to revisit the same streets and see how it looked today. Summit Avenue is a very grand, leafy boulevard that runs east from the Mississippi several miles into downtown Saint Paul. It is lined with improbably large mansions and houses and must have been the address to have a century ago, just as it surely is today. It now has a bike lane all along its considerable length, so it was a good choice of route. Parallel to Summit (which is strictly residential) is Grand Avenue, where all the upmarket shops, bars and restaurants can be found. I nipped over and found an ice cream shop, since I still had a good few miles ahead of me. I sat outside in the shade and enjoyed the surroundings. It was all just as nice as I remembered.

A mile further down Summit Avenue things open out and you find yourself on a hill overlooking downtown Saint Paul, with another – slightly less impressive – collection of tall office buildings. But what it lacks in modern skyscrapers, it makes up for with the classical architecture of the pink stone cathedral of St Paul, a large, well-proportioned domed church with twin towers on a lofty site. On another eminence less than a mile away, this is reflected, but not copied, by the gleaming white dome of the imposingly grand Minnesota State Capitol building. Both grace the city from above and make it a better place.

Minnesota State Capitol

Saint Paul is also right on the Mississippi River and has bridges that leap out over the gorge directly from downtown. It is more than 2,300 miles and 16 days on a ship from its delta in New Orleans; but already this is a big river, requiring impressively long and high bridges. The one I crossed had an American flag on every lamppost, making it very jazzy indeed.

My last two hours today used up most of the remaining daylight and got me as far downstream as the quaint old town of Hastings, which demands further exploration in the morning. It is the sort of place I might just get a decent cup of tea with my breakfast, if I’m lucky. Then I have another new state to explore, over on the eastern side of the river valley. Wisconsin awaits, on what is expected to be a very hot day, the first of three to come. It can’t be helped.

I will start cycling again tomorrow, so there was plenty to do today in preparation for the next three weeks. My bike has been given its health check and is back and ready for action. I feel fully rested. My clothes are all clean and dry. And I have passed a peaceful day on the farm working out my next moves.

I know some of you like to know where I will be going, so here is the rough plan. It breaks into three parts, each about a week long. First, tomorrow, I will head into the middle of the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St Paul to see the sights and pick up the Mississippi River. Then I plan to follow the banks of the Mississippi southeast for a couple of days, briefly entering the state of Iowa, before heading east along the Wisconsin River valley to the larger cities of Madison and Milwaukee. This is a change of plan brought about by unforeseen transport challenges. But from Milwaukee I will be able to take a ferry across Lake Michigan.

Part two then takes me across the centre of Michigan and above Detroit to enter Ontario, Canada via a small ferry. I should point out that neither of the ferries I am taking to enter and leave Michigan are the ones I was originally planning to use. However, these are both out of commission for the foreseeable future due to mechanical damage, one of which occurred quiet recently. It has meant a rethink to my route; but it’s not a showstopper. In fact, despite a few more miles, it could make it better.

I will then continue east across Ontario until I reach Niagara Falls, where I may allow myself a day off. Then, the final 8 days will be from Niagara Falls to New York City, in the company of a friend from home, which will be very welcome. That section promises to be largely traffic-free.

All in all I expect that what lies ahead will be quite different to what lies behind me, and should contain plenty of variety along the way. I’m looking forward to seeing it all.

Of course that is not the end of the journey; but we will deal with the final sections in the fullness of time. There is plenty to think about in the next few days. I have accommodation booked for the next three nights, and after that we will see what possibilities emerge. It doesn’t do to over plan an adventure like this, because, as we have seen, things change!

Believe it or not this is my first proper rest day since I left the shores of the Pacific Ocean in Oregon more than 3 weeks ago. Since then I have cycled about 1,900 miles across this enormous country to reach approximately half way. More than half way, in fact, if Google maps is to be believed. I probably have less than 1,500 miles of the USA and Canada left to go. Symbolically, though, I will feel like I have left the western half of the country behind only when I cross the Mississippi River, which lies in between the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St Paul, still 50 miles or so ahead of me.

We went in to the affluent southern suburbs of Minneapolis today to drop off my bike at a local bike shop, where it will be getting a new chain and replacement bearings. I found myself back in a different America that I hadn’t seen at all since Helena and Missoula, and not in any major way since Portland, Oregon. This was a world of trendy coffee shops, leafy streets with bike lanes, sophisticated-looking restaurants and cool, arty, people, all of which have been conspicuous by their absence for many days. It underlines the two very different sides to this country that coexist but view the world very differently.

As I head east into Wisconsin, Michigan and beyond, I will be interested to see which way things lean. But for now there are practicalities to deal with. I need to get all my clothes clean. I have a lot of route and accommodation planning to do. The weather is supposed to get really hot again over the coming Labour Day holiday weekend. So there is plenty to consider. I’m about a day ahead of my original schedule so there is no desperate hurry; but I will have to get moving again by the end of the week I think, whether I feel like it or not.

In the meantime, I am sharing this lovely old farm with my friends, their dog, two cats, 8 hens and a rooster. The blue super moon was spectacular this evening and I am about as relaxed as can be, listening to the crickets chirping away. A rest was overdue and it feels good!