Coop's Corner: July 2020

Saturday, July 25, 2020

The Tri Trek on Thirty

I get better and better at my Titles...huh??

Here's the 'Thirty' part....Minnesota State Hwy 30.

I've ridden the eastern section from its start in Rushford, MN and gone as far west as Hayfield, this back in 2009.

Discovering more of Hwy 30 wasn't the main goal however, only a means to that end as they say. Considering all of the construction along the way, I did the best that I could. The red line is Friday's trip west, most of it on or very near '30. All day Friday, I only had to work so hard to limit my speed, the highest recorded on the Zumo was 57mph. A few County roads but mostly State 30 and I never really was in anyone's way. Today on the Interstates, speed went up, highest recorded for the trip 78.

Gas mileage went way down.

Here was my real goal with hopefully some other discoveries along the way. The Tri-State Iron Post intrigued me and came as a bit of a surprise since it was something I'd never really thought of before. You might not think that odd but it's out of character for me....the kind of thing I'd have wondered about or at the very least looked into.

I've been to the famous Four Corners out west and stood in all 4 States at once. Too many of our crazy States come together in some sort of waterway making it really difficult for a guy on a motorcycle to get there. Our very own Tri-Corner was something that I could get to....so I went.

Not even 30 minutes from home.....

I stopped and walked around a short while at Rice Lake State Park, one of my failed destinations the other weekend when I had the flat tire.

The VStar's previous home was just outside of Ellendale!

Not everything in small Minnesota rural towns is tranquil.....

I've seen detours on graveled roads, I've seen gravelly detours but I've never in all my born days seen a State Highway detoured onto a gravel road. There was a sign warning everyone...in so many words, if you need pavement, you should follow the Truck Route.

I took the graveled path least traveled by and have been forever grateful.

I've got a few friends that live in the vacinity of Ontario's Thousand Islands. Farmsteads/woodlands in SW Minnesota resemble those islands in seas of soybeans and corn. South Central Minnesota is 1000 islands, as I went further west, size of the islands went down, their frequency as well while they grew further and further apart. By the time I got in far SW Minnesota, we must have been down to 100 islands.

Found some gravel....on the grid.

I knew the Visitor Center was closed but I really wanted to stop anyway....I've never been here. My only time in Pipestone was for a sheep shearing class back in the late nineties when our flock was growing.

Another State Park visit....

Kids....and summertime...

After Split Rock Creek State Park it was further south, right down into the Minnesota/Iowa/South Dakota corner to my destination, the Tri-State Iron Post Historical Marker. I had big plans with the drone but it was way, way too windy. All day long, a strong south wind made the windmills spin hard. My poor little drone would have ended up in Fargo, possibly Winnipeg.

I had some fun with it, check this out....

It took me 323 miles to get there, a very warm, lovely prairie type of day. I love traveling in this country!

Back up through Luverne and my last State Park visit, Blue Mounds State Park.

I checked into my Worthington, MN motel, tired, hot and very thirsty. Boots off, shorts on, A/C on and it was time for dinner in my microwave. I brought dinner, dessert, coffee and breakfast along, all made with hot water. Things are different....

This morning I woke to lightning and hard rain. I had really planned to use my preferred 'shortcut' home, Hwy 60 back up through Mankato and Faribault. I always refer to it as the hypotenuse rather than I-90/I-35 as the legs of the triangle. But today, the best way was determined to be the busy Interstate to hopefully not follow through the storm as it moved NE but to get out ahead far enough to sneak north before it got that far east.

The first 50 miles were very wet though I was moving faster than it was.

Rain....

A coffee stop in Blue Earth....just ahead, just barely ahead of the rain that was chasing me on my way east.

Last year's Guzzi Rally provided these neck gaiters....very timely!

Some other events at home, a couple of big exciting ones but I'll fill you in on those very soon. I'm back in Iowa for at least part of the coming week and then soon, some more time off, hopefully for some more Exploring.

Monday, July 20, 2020

Another Warm Week But Improvement

I spiffed up the Bullet sidecar rig...there was a lot of rust that needed to be dealt with from last winter's one single ride.

Saturday morning, another Coffee at Diamonds. Masks inside, Social Consideration outside.

Paul's "Ready for Anything" Ural rig...I could have used a Jet Ski that one time.

A shout out here to Callie and Craig at Wild Ass. Last winter at the IMS gathering in Minneapolis, I stopped by the booth and mentioned to them that my cover was showing real signs of wear. Craig advised me to send an email and a photo...."...shouldn't do that.....". I actually forgot about it and it just wasn't that big of deal.

Lately the bladder has slowly been losing pressure so I tried to seal the leak which made it better but didn't stop the slow deflation. Last week while I was Many Days around Richland Center'ing Callie left a voicemail, wondering how I was doing with my Wild Ass Pillion Seat Pad. A couple of photos, a few texts and a phone call resulted in a package arriving in this week's Post. A new bladder and cover now installed. More stickers to proudly stick in more places!

Thank you!!

More birds and wildlife....

Time for some more motorcycle content. Due to vacations, the pandemic, conflicting schedules, etc. I consented to work a Friday in return for having Monday off. Talk about conflicting, my destination choices for a quick overnight seemed to change with the wind; everywhere I planned to go presented everything from irritating challenges to downright impossibilities. Finally I settled on a Vernon County, Wisconsin campground, a destination that would tie in nicely with a group of friends' plan to stop for pie Sunday morning in Stockholm.

Rustic Road #51....the Guzzi hadn't been there yet. Plus, Eric said water levels were up and there were 4 creek crossings to confirm that fact. :)

Everyone made it to Stockholm....except for Jeff. A nice surprise, Terry, Gary and Bill were there at another table, all fellow rally-goers, normally seen in various locales and at our usual rallies, but not in rally-less 2020. I saw them leave on Gold Wings and Gary's brand new Africa Twin.

My Blueberry/Peach....almost hidden by lumps of Special Goodness!

Down to the Trempealeau National Wildlife Refuge...

Minnesota bluffs in the distance.

Sidie Hollow, Vernon County...my home for the night.

Eric freshly back from the Black Hills Sunday morning texted me, I shared my overnight location with him and he responded, "I'll be there before dark" and he was.

He took this photo of me after telling me not to move....."looks like you're thinking...." So noteworthy and rare, I wanted to share it with everyone because that was in fact what I was doing .... this time. I can make it look that way sometimes, just so you know.

Coffee this morning....

Almost packed up....

A beautiful night last night, great riding weather, a bug-free campfire and I slept with only my bug netting between me and the stars. We enjoyed breakfast in Westby at Borgen's, found some lovely early morning valleys and crests to ride through and then we split up at Coon Valley. Home to mow our 2/3 of an acre lawn with the 21".

A 3 day workweek ahead.

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)