Day 11 map
Okay, my fatigue must have been mounting because this was another low mileage day, though there was a bit more faffing around than the map shows. Forecast for the day was scattered showers. I never got more than a few drops, but it threatened throughout the day.
I was still trying to stick to two-lane, and I wanted to go south, and that meant vectoring myself to the west side of the Twin Cities. One thing I've noticed is that major population areas have a huge gravitational pull. The roads are designed to ease transport into, around, and through population areas, and once you get caught up in the freeway system, you will be drawn towards more and more dense traffic. My goal was to avoid that. That meant whenever I got to a freeway, that I wanted to get off of it as soon as possible to avoid being sucked in.
My first stop of the day was for a fill-up and a cup of coffee at a little gas station / convenience store at a crossroads. Sitting on the bench savoring the warmth and bitterness of a fresh cup, I saw an older guy walking in (note: "old" or "older" means anyone who looks to me like they might have been born at least a year before me, and "young" or "younger" means anyone who looks like they might be younger than me - it's my story, so those are my definitions.
). A few minutes he came back out with an enormous ice cream cone. He turned towards me and said, "I can eat ice cream going down the road, and you can't! He cackled at his own insult.
I responded, "Hey, where's that Minnesota nice I keep hearing about?"
"It's a myth!", he cackled again, climbed in his SUV and took off.
I looked at Google Maps on my phone before mounting up, and my next destination became obvious. I had to go find my crew!
With no crew in sight, the next milestone was my first of several crossings of the Mississippi in Charles Lindbergh's hometown.
Not quite as wide as further south, but still pretty wide by western standards. The park by the river was experiencing the effect of a
mayfly hatch. I hadn't seen any in years.
A brief sidebar here on the topic of rivers. One of the defining characteristics of inland British Columbia, particularly as you go north are the rivers. Holy smokes, BC has some HUGE rivers. I forgot to post about that earlier.
I guess that I was very much in a meandering frame of mind today, and just didn't make a ton of progress. In mid-afternoon I wandered into another pretty town called Hutchinson, MN. Those Minnesotans are so nice that they named a whole town after Ian!
I spied another local restaurant, and stopped for lunch. I don't remember what I had for (late) lunch other than it was on their specials menu. Obviously, I had to ask about pie for dessert. Sadly, no rhubarb.
Blueberry would have to do! The waitress committed a great pie faux pas! Without asking, she topped my pie with whipped cream. No, just no. Sure, whipped cream is great on pumpkin pie, but don't put it on my pie without asking first. I very pointedly scraped it off.
Just south of Hutchinson I spied a county park to the side of the highway with a sign showing camping, and figured I could stop early that day. After getting checked in, I wandered over to the tenting section. This was a Tuesday (I think), and the tent section was empty except for me. There were a bunch of RV's on the other side of the park, but I couldn't really hear them from where I was.
I had forgotten that camping in the Midwest could feel like camping in a city park. Neatly mown grass. Lots of trees. Picnic tables. Fire rings. And almost no gravel anywhere. I imagine it's not wild enough for some folks, but I like it. I set up camp, made myself some dinner, sat in my camp chair, and began to read on my tablet.
As the evening closed in, the feeling was dreamlike. Quiet, very beautiful, everything moving slowly. The day users had left the lake, and the RV'ers were more than 100 yards off on the other side of the bathrooms. I was sitting in my chair admiring the Maxfield Parrish clouds, and feeling gratitude for everything that had brought me to that place at that moment.
And then.... An ominous breeze began to pick up, and I thought, "Why does this not feel good?" As the wind picked up more, I could hear a roar coming from the other side of the park, and when I stood up I could see a wall of rain advancing towards me. I swept everything on the table into my arms and dove into the tent just as the first fat drops began to splatter all around me. Zipping the rain-fly, then the tent shut, the staccato sound of rain drops became a steady roar on the tent. Unbelievably loud! I could hardly hear myself think. And then there was the thunder. A few distant rumbles, then nearer cracks, then the thunder became a constant roar with no ability to hear distinct claps. For at least fifteen minutes there was no break in the noise, just this overwhelming roar of heavy rain and constant thunder. The wind was beating the tent, with the leading edge of the tent straining against the stakes to pull up and take flight!
I considered my options. There were trees all around me, any of which was likely to attract lightning before my tent would. I wasn't too close the base of any of the trees, but was briefly concerned with whether the wind might bring a limb down on top of me. I thought about heading for the bathroom, but a hundred yards in this kind of downpour seemed like a bad idea, so I just decided to ride it out. It was so loud, and there was so much sensory overload that I couldn't really concentrate enough to read. Oddly, my reaction was simply to fall asleep, and I slept surprisingly well, waking up only once during the night.
To be continued.
. Moving the body frees the soul. Enjoy the ride, adventure, and the destination wherever that brings you. 
I found an old-school, locally owned cafe in Glasgow, but they were fresh out of haggis. 
May you and yours steer this passage clear...good days ahead.
