Coop's Corner: Hiawatha BMW Rally

Sunday, June 3, 2018

Hiawatha BMW Rally - 2018

Once again, the forecast proved to be more ominous than conditions actual. I heard that a few of the attendees had a drop or two; none fell on me. Attendance 235 if I remember what I was told.

I made a new friend, more willing than most to listen to my stories....well a few new friends but only got this single snap.

Did manage to connect to some old friends that were at the last rally (SCR too) but whom we never got a chance to actually talk. Fun to see Mary and Bob, riders normally seen at our Labor Day Wildcat Mountain Rally. It's fun when the groups intersect.

Last Friday was National Doughnut Day and as a card carrying member of our region's Best Kwikie Mart, I took advantage. This early Friday morning, even before breakfast and I was up way before breakfast.

Breakfast at Ma's in Plainview.....

I arrived at Money Creek Haven Campground, the site of the MN Hiawatha BMW Rally about 10:00. My tent set-up, it was out for a loop.

Pleasant Valley Road just west of Freeburg.

Up Pleasant Valley and back down Crazy Corners into downtown Freeburg.

MN County 5, the road that famously transitions from Paved to "Pavement Ends".

Making hay the low labor way....

Eric arrived in the afternoon....

John and the brothers as well.

Lloyd has the rallying thing figured out....missing in this photo is the front end of his Gold Wing trike.

Not your dad's BMW.....

Saturday sunrise....

Leo's brought demo bikes, once again as they have now for years.

Farmer's Market, but not the real reason that we made the trip.

The annual Lanesboro Rhubarb Fest. Always the first weekend in June, it doesn't always happen on the same weekend as our rally.

The Rhubarb Girls....very melodious.

The Storyteller....

There was work to be done...

I felt obligated to lend a hand...

Not all of us went....but many did.

Those lambs in the Petting Zoo put me in the mood....it was very good!

Again using the back way, I left Lanesboro returning to Money Creek. Of course I stopped at Aroma Pie Shop in Whalan.

Rhubarb Custard.....I did go light on the ice cream. Still, a record-breaking couple of days. Double doughnuts on National Doughnut Day, double rhubarb slices on Saturday.

Good.

Ludwig rode his CTX this time....

This is the same van from Wisconsin that I saw last August at the Chamberlain Rest Stop on my way out to Wyoming ... there's only one Bob. Looks like the "texting" sticker has been added in the interim.

Around 11PM when I pulled in....by 4:30 Bob was gone but he's that way.

Saturday evening after the rain....

Our Saturday evening meal and awards ceremony.

395 miles on the rig for the weekend, a very tough ride home Sunday morning into the howling westerlies. Here's the whole trip....

The Better part of the whole trip...

Loaded for everything but the bears....tomorrow I'll be on the far distant shore of Wisconsin for the week, Road America early Friday.

4 comments:

motormikeJune 3, 2018 at 9:39 PM
… years ago Hwy 5.... I discovered not only does " pavement ends "..it becomes farm dog fast.... with the gravel I couldn't pull away from that four legged snarey bark'n cur...

and the first photo….took me a moment to figure who was who.... (insert wink'n smiley face here)
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RogerJune 3, 2018 at 10:28 PM
I also discovered what happens on No. 5 years ago, on a "77 RS, that was not a great gravel road bike. Also dodged a dog or two, and just kept riding, assuming that I had to hit pavement at some point...I think I was almost in Iowa before I cam to my senses.
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Speed BumpJune 4, 2018 at 6:35 AM
I think that I need to meet your new friend..Mike say's that I talk too much but I could count on that troll to listen! Enjoyed your sunrise & Farmer's Market pictures...I would have wanted some of the rhubarb soap...love your blog..keep the adventures coming!
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UnknownJune 4, 2018 at 6:55 AM
Nice blog, Doug. We found the wind to be tough sledding on the way home. I imagine it's tougher with a sidecar.

-Bill Jones.
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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)