Day 45: Mad Town, General Lee, Penny Farthing

Day 45:  Sunday July 20th, 2014.
Blue Mound State Park near Blue Mounds, WI to Waukesha, WI.  100.4 miles.

Waking up early, I started out on the trail just after 8:00 am.

My cousin Fay, through a texting-arrangement made last night, decided to ride his motorcycle 1.5 to 2 hours from the Freeport Illinois area Northward to intersect my path in-time for breakfast.  Excited to meet up with him, I pedaled with a purpose, and made great time to the nearby town of Mt. Horeb.  When I arrived in Mt. Horeb, a cute town full of woodcarvings, artists shops, and trolls, I grabbed a cup of coffee.

Fay was on his way, but he had at least 30 more minutes to go before reaching my path.  So, I decided to ride on to the next town of Verona, a suburb of Madison.  In Verona, a local recommended the Pancake Cafe.  We met up there, had a great breakfast, talked bikes, and convinced another Pancake patron to take a photo of us next to our "rigs".

Energized, I followed the bike path into the capitol city, Madison.  Situated between Lake Mendota and Lake Monona, and home to the University of Wisconsin, the city was very bike friendly. 

The dramatic architecture of the capitol building stood out in the skyline from most vantage points throughout "Mad." town.

The Military Ridge State Trail that I had been on met up with the Capitol City Trail as I passed between the two lakes.  Lots of people were out and about, biking, walking, jogging, and soaking up the sun.

On the outskirts of town, I connected with the Glacial Drumlin State Trail, another rail-to-trail path that would take me all the way to Waukesha.

About 20 miles East of Madison, the trail sliced through the town of Deerfield, and a trail-side bar/eatery called The Rail House.  Hungry, and impressed with the convenience of this place, I decided to stop for a quick bite to eat.

Inside, several regulars sat at the bar of this otherwise empty place.  I sat at a round table against the wall right next to the bar and took the waitresses' recommendation for the chicken alfredo pizza.  "It's the best frozen pizza you can get.", she said with confidence.  She told me that only one restaurant in each town can sell this type of frozen pizza, and The Rail House was that lucky place in the small town of Deerfield.  

As I worked my way through the cardboard crust of the best frozen pizza in town, two other frequent patrons walked in, their arrival welcomed by the others.  Both were in their 50's, thirsty for a buzz, with a lot to talk about.  They looked over at me and said with an inquisitive voice, "You must be the guy riding that bike outside?"  We talked about my bike for a short while, the focus on the clean welds, components, metal, and other physical aspects of the bike, until their usual topics of conversation resumed.

They started an intense discussion about the physics behind landing the Dukes of Hazzard vehicle, also known as the General Lee, on the other side of the massive jumps that Bo and Luke would use to break away from the police that were chasing them.  "What they didn't show you was how the Gen Lee broke apart when that car landed on the other side.", one of the men said.  He followed up with, "They had to rebuild that car over and over."  

"Fascinating knowledge", I thought to myself.  Their conversation evolved back into bicycles, but this time the focus was on their disgust of corporate America, specifically relative to their past careers with Trek Bicycle, headquartered in nearby Waterloo, Wisconsin.  I learned that one of the gentlemen was a former painter for Trek.  "I worked my ass off for that company, and nearing my retirement they canned me as they moved more and more of the jobs overseas.", he said with disgust.  He told me that his job was to apply the paint on the bikes, and he was good at it.  "They had me custom paint the Trek bike that Robin Williams ordered.", he said proudly.

While Waterloo is still the site of some Trek manufacturing, most of the many jobs there are "white collar" type jobs held by people who think they are way too important, and are way overpaid, according to these former employees who were hiding their sadness behind a gruff and disgruntled exterior.

I paid for the check quickly after finishing my lunch, and broke away from this bar, eagar to get back onto the trail, hoping to make it all the way to Waukesha.

After about 10 miles of pedaling, the trail crossed over Rock Lake near the town of Lake Mills.  The lake was beautiful, and full of fishermen water skiiers, and boaters.  The trail turned into an expanded dock as it crossed over the lake, and several fishermen had used their bikes to reach the great fishing spot their lines were connected to.

I stopped for a few minutes to take it all in.  Then, as I started to resume, a peculiar fellow heading towards me on a..  ..bicycle?... called out to me as we were passing and we both stopped.

His name was Geoff.  He was very excited, as I was the first touring bicyclist he had encountered since he left on his own adventure.  He started in Toronto, Ontario Canada, and rode his Penny Farthing all the way to Lake Mills, WI.  But, he was just getting warmed up.  "I'm riding around the World!", he said with excitement.  Headed to Vancouver in British Colombia, he will then turn South and continue South until he reaches the Southern tip of South America.  He then plans to take a ship to the next continent, and continue riding.

My usual excitement that I experience when meeting another touring cyclist was a bit subdued by confusion.  I couldn't quite wrap my head around what I was seeing, let alone the story he was sharing.  After chatting a bit, we rode off in our own separate directions.  It took me several miles to sort out what had happened with this unusual encounter.

Getting close to Waukesha, I rode through a section of trail that was lined with "walls" of wild current, the branches laden with the bright red berries.  Then, the trail opened up into fields of soybean.  A few deer were in the field, helping themselves to a high-protien snack, looking up at me with a guilty expression as if they knew they were eating something that didn't belong to them.

Arriving in the old-town section of Waukesha, I went straight to a cafe for dinner.  The sparkling lemonade was a great refreshing end to a long day, and my sidewalk table with a view of the old architecture provided a perfect place to relax while searching on my phone for accommodations for the evening.

While there, the couple at the table behind me, seeing my bicycle leaning against the building, informed their waiter to put $10 toward my bill.  Before I became aware of the kind gesture, the couple had left their table.

Learning that Waukesha, a suburb of Milwaukee, was devoid of campgrounds, I grabbed a motel a couple of miles away for the night.  I felt good about the day's progress, as I was now only about 100 miles from Chicago where I would be meeting Victoria in 2 days.