Day 24 – The Twin Cities

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.