Day 14 Wabasha, MN - Frontenac State Park, MN

June 17, 2012

There were no overnight rains and my tent was fairly dry when I woke. I ate a little breakfast, looked over today’s route (looks like a good climb to start the day,) and packed my bags and bicycle. On the road by 9:40 with a ride by the Eagle Center and Wabasha’s quiet downtown on a Sunday. I found a vending machine (I rarely used these before this trip) and purchased two Powerades for the road (I figured I could drink one after my climb and one later in the day.)

Wabash Marina

My ascent up and out of Wabasha was a good one as I was both physically and mentally prepared for it (I’m getting better at map reading and anticipating climbs and downhills.) The 10 miles after my initial bluff climb consisted of a few more elevation changes but was mostly riding in a little river valley with quiet traffic of leisurely Sunday drivers. I eventually turned back north on County 4 and the road became rolling hills. I must have finally gotten used to the hills for I rode them at a great pace, accelerating on the downside and maintaining my momentum back through the next one. It was a fun ride and I was able to keep this rolling pace pretty much to the junction of 61. At 61, I hopped back on the shoulder until I reached Lake City.

Airstream

Barn and silos in valley

Barns and trees

Cows on the horizon

I veered off onto a quieter street, riding at a gingerly pace. I went by a school and some parks, but eventually crossed back over 61 as most of the downtown was on the marina side of 61. I was getting hungry so I ventured into Hopes Harvest, and man, I’m glad I did. This place had a great deal of organic and gluten free foods. I browsed around awhile and eventually ordered a gf roast beef wrap, some broccoli salad, and a blueberry and banana smoothie. Deliciousness in a good coffehouse-ish atmosphere. I finished up my meal and two ladies near the window inquired about my venture. They were fellow travelers, driving from Florida to Lake City for a nearby reunion. It was a nice little chat and then I was back out the door.

I noticed some clouds brewing to the west (I had actually noticed them far off while riding in the country earlier but the weather report was originally calling for storms overnight, not midday.) I rechecked my radar and a good sized system was about to be over Lake City. I figured it was early enough to wait out a few hours of rain so I hopped on the Surly and rode to the park I saw earlier. The only shelter there was a high gazebo with little protection from the rain. I thought about the school I passed earlier and so I rode to it. There was a long covered walkway to the school’s entrance, so I wheeled under it, pulled out my little stool, and leaned up my bike. The rains eventually came and I took a little nap.

Waiting out some rain in Lake City

After a few hours the rain slowed pace and I was ready to get a move on. I threw my rain gear on and pedaled out into the drizzle. It was very refreshing. I debated whether or not to camp in town or get a hotel and stay another day in Lake City (I really liked the town) but I eventually decided to keep riding. The rain stopped for a while but once I was a few miles outside of town, it picked up to a moderate fall again. So, I stopped at the rest area on 61 and waited for it to slow. I checked my weather again, and the doppler showed that it was about over and it looked like nothing else was on the way. So, I said adieu to the maintenance man I was chatting with and rode to Frontenac State Park. It was a steep climb up to the campsites but once I was there, I quickly got supper going and set up camp. It seemed a little weird to me, but the sites were all of pea gravel instead of grass (this ought to be fun to sleep on.) I ate my meal and called some loved ones. 

Gate near Frontenac

Frontenac State Park

Frontenac State Park after afternoon storms

Just before going to bed and well in the dark, I decided to check the weather. What I thought was going to be a clear night instead looked like a severe line of storms coming through in less than two hours that could contain heavy rains, high wind, and possible hail. It looked like the southern line of the storm (and the most severe part of it) might, just might, miss me. So, here I am; in the dark, in a tent, with a bicycle for transportation, on a bluff, with no one camped nearby, and the only “shelter” is a little bathhouse down the road. I quickly repacked my bags so that they would be consolidated. I put my head light on and walked down to the bathhouse to see if I could sleep under it somehow (I don’t remember it being this far in the daylight.) The overhang was too short so the outside of the building didn’t offer much protection. I considered the inside but decided to head back. 

I walked back to my tent and considered packing up my bike and riding in the dark to Lake City for a hotel as it was only 6 or 7 miles. I deeply considered this option but at last concluded that I would just have to hunker down and wait out the storm. So, I waited. I tried to get some sleep before it came but couldn’t as I was deeply anticipating what was about to come. I was constantly wanting to check the doppler to see if it would miss me but my phone battery was getting low (why did I have to spend so much time on it earlier tonight and then to not charge it) and so my doppler checks were few, but each time confirmed that the severe southern part of the storm would flow right over me tonight.

And so I laid there and shortly the rains began their sound. Just before midnight the winds picked up and the lightning flashes began to illuminate the previously dark sky. The intensity soon followed as I lay there, scared but actually quite calm, taking in the continuous illumination of lighting, the echoing thunder, the high winds, the rain coming under my tent and cooling the pea gravel underneath, and the periods of occasional hail or acorns that graced my tent’s outer shell. I laid there, thinking everything over, still calm and accepting that there is nothing I could do but wait. And this seemingly constant strobe finally calmed just before 2:00 AM, when the rains slowed and eventually moved on and away from Frontenac. The storm passed but I still calmly laid there taking in what just happened. Eventually, I drifted in and out sleep as I tossed and turned on the cold rocks underneath my tent, waiting for the next day’s rays.