Coop's Corner: Trailways 200 On The Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail 2009

Sunday, December 18, 2016

Trailways 200 On The Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail 2009 - Part 1

(7:00 AM as I write this, -24 F Fahrenheit degrees outside and lucky for us, very little wind)

After a couple of years of thinking about riding Chad's Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail, things came together for me properly in 2009 and I finally made it happen, or at least mostly made it happen. Since the 'Trail starts down in the southwestern-most reaches of Wisconsin, combining the ride with the Wisconsin Moto Guzzi Rally seemed prudent and practical. My plan was to enjoy time with the rally folks that weekend, ride the Cheese Country Trail of the Tri County Trail System on that Saturday and then Sunday morning as the Rally was closing down, do the few miles to the WI/IL border where the 'Trail route begins.

Leaving the Lake Joy Campground, headed to Mineral Point, WI where the Cheese Country begins on the north end.

This trail like so many in our region originally was a railroad line that was abandoned and evolved into a pathway through rural areas. Local ATV Clubs through membership do the maintenance and oversee the trail and in this case, require a Trail Pass to use the trail.

There are many bridges!!

So that was Saturday, Sunday began with everyone packing up and leaving the Lake Joy rally site. This tent was in the process of drying, my Backcountry 1 in the distance was still planted.

John and Dave were no doubt making plans for their next rally......

while Eugene was patiently waiting for Dave to get mounted up.

I wasn't last (John was still present as is his custom) but I was close.....there was no reason to be in a hurry; I wasn't headed home to the barn.

Finally I was away......

"Late in 1831 while Wisconsin was still part of Michigan Territory......" Wisconsin's defined beginnings started here and this was the beginning of my Trans Wisconsin Adventure Trail ride.

My left foot is in Illinois, my right foot is in Wisconsin and up ahead, I'll be in the Land of Lincoln ....for a few short yards at least.

In the distance, the Sinsinawa Mound Center of the Dominican Sisters.

There was no way I wasn't going to stop for this photo.....

The famous Grotto of Dickeyville......

Along Banfield Road; the Platte River headed to the Mississippi in the distance.

Potosi Point Road. I'd been past numerous times but didn't realize this road existed until fellow traveler Jim Klas highlighted this on HIS 'Trail ride.

The road protrudes far into the wide river here, was initially built to load the area's lead product onto barges for shipping downriver.

Irish Ridge Road, the Balltown, Iowa knobs in the distance.

Good-nuff Hollow Road......

It was here in the Cool Off My Sidestand place that things went awry. My GPS unit locked up and I lacked the knowledge of doing a Master Reset. Luckily I had made paper maps but without a map style tank bag, the ride became a real challenge from this point. So many twists and turns....I had to look and remember. "One right, skip the next two lefts, then left and straight from there....." It meant stopping when and where I didn't want to. Luckily I was in territory that I knew and that helped but to stay true to the ride, I wanted to follow THE route.

Dougway Road out of Glenhaven.....spelled very deliberately.

See??

One of my all time favorites, Sandy Hollow Road. This one oft visited.

Scott and I had been here before, he on his V-Strom and I had the CX500. I remember wondering then what we were going to find at the top.

Stopping AGAIN for another map check (something I very seldom need to do) I was studying and trying to commit to memory when a bike that I'd seen at the Guzzi Rally went by. I waved and was shocked, shocked I tell you to discover that it was Glen. I had met him for the first time with the Guzzi folks and only here learned that his farm was just around the corner.

"The 'Trail goes that way" he informed me with a smile.

I took this detour, not on the official path.

Coming down to Wisconsin Hwy 33, a spot I knew well. Just east of Wildcat Mountain.

And this IS Wildcat Mountain State Park, where I stopped for the night.

It had lightly rained overnight and my ride over the crest of our region's famous Wildcat Mountain section of #33 would be done with care.

I made it as far as Sparta and decided to call it quits and head for home. The plan was to only go half way in the first place and without my GPS, it was all becoming too much work. The next sections would all be on roads that I didn't know and since I'd planned a 2nd weekend to finish the 'Trail, it seemed best to cut my losses here and start fresh.

Sparta, known for among other things, the start of the Sparta-Elroy Bicycle Trail (I've taken you to one of the tunnels along the trail more than once).

I had been saving Rustic Route 64 and 91 for a better time and that Monday was it.

And home to Old Frontenac....the plaque, Lake Pepin and Wisconsin bluffs.

6 comments:

TrobairitzDecember 18, 2016 at 10:57 AM
Fun! You have such beautiful scenery to ride through and to do it on two wheels......

That TW is a fine looking ride for that trail too, not that i am biased.

Your temperatures this morning sound entirely too darn cold. I am glad you are thinking of warmer weather and earlier rides.
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VStar LadyDecember 18, 2016 at 6:33 PM
Oh, let the memories keep us warm. My weather app remembers everywhere I've been and keeps me posted with alerts. I smile each time I see a Red Wing alert - not because of the current weather, but because of the memories.
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redlegsridesDecember 18, 2016 at 7:54 PM
Quite the tour, I've ridden some of Wisconsin's Rustic Roads and getting lost can be quite easy....
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)