Day 29 Long Prairie to Milaca

Day 29 (01 Sep 09) Long Prairie to Milaca 81 Miles

Coldest morning start yet - 42 degrees (feels like 40). As we left Long Prairie, we were greeted by islands of ground fog hovering over the fields and sometimes the road. As we glide downhill into a low areas with fog the temperature drops noticeably. Despite the intermittent fog, the sky is clear - not a cloud in sight. We pass a small flock of wild turkeys and see our first Osprey since the mountains of Montana.

Speaking of turkeys, this is turkey and chicken farming country. Yesterday we saw a big truck load of turkeys driving through Long Prairie on their way to the butcher. That explains all the white feathers we’ve been seeing along the roadway. Again, there’s lots of corn growing in the fields and we speculate that much of the corn may be used for turkey/chicken feed in addition to going for ethanol production?

We looked forward to crossing the “mighty” Mississippi River mid-morning. It was so mighty that no one even bothered to name it at the overpass and we rode by not realizing what we’d just crossed. We came to Royalton “City on the Platte” two miles later and realized that we’d missed the Mississippi. On the east edge of Royalton lies the Platte River, once again, not identified by the city that claims it! Strange people these Minnesotans. We stopped for lunch at the Ramey Store (tiny grocery store, gas station and bar) and chatted briefly with the proprietress about our day’s ride, where we originally started, etc.

The wind the last three days has followed a predictable pattern that hopefully will not persist. Not much wind in the early morning, picking up mid-morning and reaching full intensity by about 11:00 AM. All three days it’s come from the south or southeast. Since our path has been almost as much south as east, it’s meant a lot of headwind and little relief even in crosswind. It’s made for long days on the bike.

Upon arrival at the west edge of Milaca, today’s destination, we discovered that the bridge crossing the Rum river was closed and that there was detour. We start on the detour and see no immediate turn to head east. Again we’re headed south into the wind, this time with a lot of truck traffic. We turn around to investigate the possibility of crossing the river, thinking that maybe the bridge may be passable on bicycle. No such luck. Jim spies a lady down the street taking groceries out of her car and asks if there’s another way to cross the river without taking the detour. She says the detour takes you 6 miles to another town and that you then have to go back the other way to get to Milaca. However, if you go down the dead end street across from her street you can go through the cemetery and cross the river on an old train bridge that’s been converted to a foot bridge. Len wants to know if one of us has to die to get through the cemetery - she doesn’t get the joke, but we laugh and head to the grave yard. Along the way, we are accompanied by a young father and his seven year old daughter who are out for a bike ride and are also fishing. They show us the way to the bridge, we cross and after consulting the GPS on Jim’s Blackberry, find our way to the night’s lodging place.