| Author | Message | ||
     Bomber |
Autumn has the Juiciest Bugs And I can prove it – just come on over and look at the front of the MaDeuce! YUCK, but in a good way! But I digress. On to the ride report. I’m an idiot. This will not come as news to those that have either met me, read my posts on this board, or spoken to my friends. Still, let this serve as reinforcement for some, and a data point of others. I am an idiot. I’ve lived in the Chicago area most of my life, and never ridden in the Wildcat Mountain/Mindoro Cut areas – until this weekend. Southwest Wisconsin was very nicely carved up by the last period of glaciation that took place in this area . . . .lots of hills, which accounts for the valleys, I’m guessing, and the state, county and township road surveyors were always on the lookout for the easiest place to put the roads . . . . . which, or course, is why they are so much fun. Basically, anything west of Madison in the southern part of the state is great bike country, and, from the amount of riders I saw (maybe 6 all weekend), it is greatly underappreciated. (It’s not for nothing that Pete Egan is from this neck of the woods.) The weather was perfect, the atmosphere crystal clear, with that preternatural clarity of light that only Fall provides (a new shield on the Schuberth lid didn’t hurt either) – the colors of the trees, sky, asphalt, all seemingly greater than life, like a slide shot on Fuji film. Alternating bands of sunlight/shade made clipping apexes tough at anything greater than 7/10s, so I slowed down a touch (which ain’t a bad thing, considering I’d never been on these roads before). The trees are just beginning to change – crowns of red and orange just becoming visible in the heavily wooded areas. In another week or three, it’ll be a riot of color – it will also mean that the area will be chock full of leaf peepers, so I’m figuring I picked the right weekend to play hookey. Ran through Sauk City and Prairie du Sac– home of August Derleath – all fans of Science Fiction and other literary oddities throw a salute in that direction. The amount of tax dollars, and traffic, round this neck of the woods mean the roads are either really old, with pink bands showing in the tire tracks of the asphalt, or brand newly repaved – newly paved is good, of course, but it also means a great deal of gravel on the shoulders – with all the farm equipment in the area, which is often looooong, there are a great many tire tracks into the inside shoulders of corners, with a corresponding amount of gravel thrown into the apex of the corner . . . . .. nothing a self-respecting lettered road rider can’t deal with, but a heads up nonetheless. Given the somewhat spirited pace, I really paid attention to looking through the corner (tough, when they’re blind due to rock formations, trees, or crops), weighting the pegs, and remembering to late apex (almost always {!} except for those 200 degree turns – I’ve not found a good way to apex late {or at all}, when the corner keeps cornering long after you expect it to straighten. If this is a problem, though, I’ll take it!) A question for long time Wisconsin residents – is there a bounty on raccoons? I don’t think I went more than a mile without seeing one that had gone into a berserker rage and attempted to attach the nearest rolling tire – they were everywhere! I also saw a good crop of deer – although it’s a shame to think of them dead, and the damage done to the folks and vehicles that put em down, it’s better than the starvation the misguided folks in cities wish to sentence them to . . . . I can feel the steering head bearings going south – ditto on the rear isolators – it’ will be big fun in the entropy lab this winter – perhaps a write up called “This Old Buell?” All in all, the Y2K MaDeuece is a little tired (at 30k miles, understandable), but remains very capable, predictable, and easy to ride in this environment ….. the state numbered roads and county lettered roads are tight, some very technical (as much so as the Gap, in some areas), and will throw a surprise your way from time to time (did I mention that I neglected to do a google search for “Amsih” in the area? Those buggies show up at the oddest times!). In one corner, the surprise came in the form of a Pontiac Sunfire drifting across both lanes, throttle steering like he’s going to war, with an elbow on the window frame, casual as can be – thank goodness that he’d left me about 5 feet of lane to work with, and thank Erik and company for making a bike that changes lines well – phew! About 4 in the afternoon, the sky clouded over and the temp dropped to the high 40s, and I decided to grab some chow and a roof -- 7 hours to cover ground that the slab would do in 3 – big grins all around for a great first day. The country around there has been carved by glaciers, and caused the roads, as I said to be big fun. Huge terrain features, not at all what you’d expect in the boring, flat midwest. Impressive, ear-popping elevation changes, and ridge-top roads with great views, if you slow down enough to see. Day two, and the great weather had drawn the Amish buggies out – I’ll admit to being confused as to why I’d see one clip-clopping out of a gas station, though. A whole group of them at a scenic overlook parked among the Winnebagos seems humorsous, somehow. Wildcat Mountain is a State Park, with a really technical road leading into it – the roads in the surrounding area are very entertaining as well, leading you to the a town that calls itself “The Gateway to the Kickapoo River.” Country P takes you to this river over and over again, as it snakes back and forth under the road,a dn as the road snakes back and forth over the river . .. SUVs with high dollar canoes are everywhere, but seemingly abandonded, and posing no threat to a rapid pace. The road through Mindoro Cut, on the other hand, is just as fun, but was not entirely a natural occurence. The following is taken from a University of Wisconsin webstie. http://www.uwsp.edu/geo/projects/geoweb/participants/dutch/geolwisc/geostops/Min doroCut.HTM In 1907, the townsfolk of the village of Mindoro decided to create a short cut to LaCrosse. The idea was simple: create a short access to the LaCrosse valley by cutting through the soft sandstone on the ridge. Nobody seems to have asked "If the sandstone is so soft, why is there a ridge?" As the Air Force likes to say, what you don't know won't hurt you - it will kill you. In this case the ridge exists because it's capped with resistant Prairie du Chien dolomite. It took the townsfolk two years to finish the job. The townsfolks dug the cut through which the road runs by hand. Suffice it to say, the road they made possible is great! You owe it to yourself to ride it, and say thanks to those stubborn folks. Ya gotta wonder about a name like Bad Axe River – at least I do. I gassed up the bike in the town of Mindoro, and from a one-hose pump at that! Living dangerously, I know, but I say if you ain’t on the edge, you’re taking up too much room! Rural Wisconsin is where old AMC vehicles go to die. Rural life is tough on cars, certainly, and they get kept on the road way past their prime, being used a farm workhorses, passed down to third cousins who just got their licenses, and not junked unitl they will no longer move under their own power. Farm people, out of necessity, learn how to repair things with bailing wire, ball pein hammers, and good intentions. These skills keep some amazing cars and trucks on the road LONG past the point of no return. Next to Kenosha, SWWisconson’s gotta be the Gremlin Capital of the world! Of course, in a state where Cheese Curds are for sale at every fuel stop, I spose I shouldn’t be surprised. When I came up behind a rusted out, no muffler Eagle Summit, I have to say I was wondering, “Summit of what, exactly?” After a while, even on a road you’ve not ridden before, you get to the point where you can guess what the engineer was thinking while laying out the road, in the same way you can predict how to sing a new hymn without ever having heard it before. You do have to pay attention, but there’s a rythym that develops afterwhile – of course, if you guess wrong, it hurts a little more than missing that note in church, so you do have to stay on your toes. Got to La Crosse, saw the local HD/Buell dealer, and made a pitstop there – 3 or 4 Buells, the usual (almost non-existent) array of Buell-related goodies, and I came away thinking that this SHOULD be one of the top Buell dealerships in the country, given the roads. Luckily, that’s not my ruck to carry, and, after attempting to replce my lost tire patching kit (do all HD riders just call a tow truck when they get a flat?), I continued south, toward Prairie du Chien (French for Lawn of the Dogs, or something like that). Great River Road. What to say about this? Most of it is not, in fact, within view of the Father of Waters (which, according to some, is just the major tributary of the Missouri anyways, but I’ll leave that up to souls more knowledgeable than I). So, it’s the Great Riverish Road. Except, not all of it is so great! Although it’s got some gentle sweepers that might be challenging at 120 plus, it rates an “OK” as far as entertainment is concerned. So, I’m thinking it should realistically be called the “OK Riverish Road. Not as drawing as the original handle, I know, but more accurate. It was a hoot to see so many eagles in the area though – when I was first in this county as a Boy Scout (lo, those many years ago), there were none to be seen, ever. This year, after riding 10 or 15 miles, you’d seen 5 or 6 all circling the same part of the river, which looked just like any other part of the river, to me at least. Clearly, there was some eagle-sensible thing that caused them to congregate there, and not elsewhere. Fish, dizzy from passing through a lock and dam, perhaps? One of the problems with the OK Riverish Road is that is draws groups of bikes – I passed two – one HOG chapter riding as if they were a Panzer unit on parade, and one group of Goldwings/Pac Coasts out for a Saturday afternoon wobble. Now, the biggest difference between the two groups, both of which we traveling at 10 miles an hour below the limit, is the spacing between the individual bikes. The HOGgers were riding close together, staggered formation, close enough to reach out and tap each other on the shoulder, sorta like a Blue Angel formation. Their speed was constant, up and down hill, just low. I waited for an opportunity to pass, and did so. They, of course, being regal and individualistic (although all in uniform, jeans, vests, and bad-a55ed scowls, pay no never mind at all – one bug-encrusted Buell rider was not enough for THEM to notice, nossirreebob!). The Hondas, on the other hand, while also in a staggered formation of sorts, were strung out over about a half mile of road, distances between them varying from 20 feet to two blocks, weaving and bobbing like Ali against Forman all over their lane, oblivious to their surroundings . . . . they steadfastly stayed kinda staggered, however, making passing them a real challenge – I took it in three passes, which really got em angry – how dare I insert myself into their formation? Ah well, I’m hoping they enjoyed their ride. When on the road, I am often struck by what towns choose to put on the signs telling you that you’ve arrived in their municipality. “Czech Capital of Wisconsin” seems, o, I dunno, a little strange. “Second Oldest Community in Wisconsin” seems a bit damning with faint praise somehow. One thing that’s missing in all the navigational aids available on the internet is a list of “Days.” “Settler Days,” Founders Days,” “Potato Days,” every town’s got it’s Days, it seems. These Days result in road closings, delays while waiting for the parade to stage, watching the cheerleaders surround the local congresspersons Buick convertible – it can add hours to your trip. The limit, for me at least, was reached with “Dust Ball Days.” Really reaching for something to celebrate, it would seem. I got home in the evening of day two, tuckered right out, but grinning ear to ear – two days of running some great roads, not thinking about anything except the next corner, and ready for more. Anyways, I hope you got the impressions that SW Wisconsin has some great roads that are definitely worth the trip – if anyone’s out this way, give me a shout, and I’ll email a route sheet to ya. | ||
| Road_thing |
Bomber--for such a self-proclaimed idiot, you are truly a gifted man of letters! But "preternatural?" Wow. I hadda go look it up... Thanks--great read! rt | ||
| Mikej |
Yep, a very nice read indeed. Sounds like your battery is fully recharged and refreshed. | ||
| Bomber |
any time I can send someone to the dictionary, it's a great day! it had been way too long since I went walkabout on my own -- next, the enjoyment will be sharing the routes with my buds | ||
| Outrider |
I warned you about the River Road. LOL Will have to find those old maps and show you the alternate routes to the East. Have a feeling when we compare maps, we can start our own "Ride Wisconsin" tour service like Edelweiss.  | ||
| Jerry_haughton |
Bomber, you're the, well, bomb! thanks for the entertaining read.  FB | ||
| Bomber |
JH -- high praise indeed from the master of the ride report -- can I talk you into sharing your secret of riding and photo-ing at the same time? Outie -- right you are -- we'll have a session in the entropy lab with scotch this winter! mebbe rent ourseloves out at next years Coming Home bash! | ||
| Jerry_haughton |
...can I talk you into sharing your secret of riding and photo-ing at the same time? sure: close your eyes! | ||
| Newfie_buell |
I just keep the camera around my neck. OR use the camera mount I created and it works on both the DR650 and the S1. | ||
| Bomber |
JH - chuckle, I'll try that! thanks | ||
| Mark_from_newfoundland |
Some of the roads in Wis. sound like the roads in western Newfoundland. The last ice age was very productive there as well. We even have fjords (yes, like Norway). Just ask Newfie about it. Thanks for the read. Cheers. | ||
| Bomber |
We tend not to ask Newfie much, and history has taught us better <just yanking your chain, newfie> thanks for the kind words, all -- be careful of the positive reinforcment, however -- it would only tend to feed the Midwestern Peter Egan thing that is forming in my brain |
