"What about the train tracks?"

Josh and I are in an old, abandoned looking campground for cyclists, which I've never even heard of before tonight. It doesn't look like anyone's been back here for millenia, which probably describes why I've never seen one before; it doesn't appear to get much business. The campground is nestled around fifty feet from the highway and just beyond the railway. At the moment, I can hear two trains stampeding their way down the steel tracks. Just underneath the rumbling, a tractor trailer rustles beneath the cacophony of industry.

And suddenly, it's quiet and the only noise I hear is the dying embers of our campfire and a few crickets playing their instruments.

Beginning with yesterday's lack of pictures, I figured I'd throw them in here today. First, one of the hiking trail views from Effigy National Monument. 

A few miles down from the beautiful town of Lansing was this gigantic power plant. No more than a mile down the road from this, a large amount of houses along the Mississippi. I dunno about you but I don't know how comfortable I'd feel in the water next to this factory.

Josh was the first one out of the campground this morning as I struggled and failed to dry my clothes from the evening's downpour. I finally left and down the road from the campground, I witnessed a peculiar happening. A type of work truck, one of the giant guys that carries huge loads of dirt, was rolling down main street. However, the bed was open; rocks and dirt sprayed all over the asphalt, leaving a trail of shit a mile long back to his work place. Cars zig-zagged around the hazards, avoiding the materials. At first, I wondered if it was on purpose but the giant rocks couldn't have been meant to be strewn all over the road. It was strange.

So, I forgot to mention yesterday but this area of Iowa/Minnesota is known as the "Driftless Area". This area of the midwest was untouched by the glaciation of the last Ice Age. From above, the geography is deeply carved by the Mississippi River and its tributaries. And from here, Josh and I have biked up and down with sometimes thousand foot bluffs of sandstone rising above us. 

I met up with Josh shortly before the border of Minnesota in the town of New Albin, Iowa. This town had over twenty state championships for baseball! However, I was surprised to find none of that ever translated over to any Major League talent. Anyway, we entered Minnesota, our second state in two days.

On the sign along the border was some interesting information on the United States. All of the land we own, we got in the 19th century. But, the best deal we made, albeit one of the only deals we really made for any of the land, was the Louisiana Purchase in 1803. Napoleon Bonaparte owned New Orleans (sort of, he vocally claimed it from Spain) and they shut out international trade. An upset Thomas Jefferson sent delegates to acquire the important port along the Mississippi River for no more than $10 million. However, Napoleon, in a war with Britain and a revolt in Haiti, needed cash. He offered up almost a quarter of the present-day United States for $15 million. The delegates, without Jefferson's permission, quickly accepted and arguably made the greatest real estate deal in world history.

Hours later, I rendezvoused with Josh at a Subway in the town of La Crescent, MI. Across the river in La Crosse, WI, was a cool museum but we were tired and the camping site was a short ten miles away. Good thing we left ourselves some extra time.

By the time we left Subway around 4:30, traffic was getting a bit more intense on the highway we had to take. As soon as we got on the highway, my bike started bouncing with every pedal push. The back tire was going flat, my first one. 

Josh was pleased; he's had four and I've given him shit for it. I finally got mine. After almost half an hour, I finally finished the tire and gave Josh a call. Instead, I saw him approaching me, backtracking from where he'd come a good amount of time ago.

"Uh oh," I said giving him a look, "What's the trouble?"

"There's a ton of construction up ahead. I made it pretty far but one of the workers finally stopped me and said I couldn't go any further. There was no more road to go," Josh told me.

Now, being stubborn, this didn't sit well with me. There had to be a way. The alternate route took us way up the bluffs in a wavy formation and that wasn't even guranteed to take us past the construction. Our map route was another option but that added twenty miles.

After a long time, I said, "Ahh, let's just check it out or ask."

The first construction worker wore a weathered face with long wavy blonde hair. Probably in his early forties, he looked much older but he was a kind man.

"It's possible. I saw a rider going through yesterday but I thought it was... kinda stupid. It's dangerous up there with the funnel of traffic," he reported, looking concerned. 

A pause of silence.

"What about the railroad tracks?"

There were "No Entry" signs blocking access but just before a half-complete bridge, next to a man in a bulldozer, we slipped onto the tracks next to an idle train. 

None of the workers along the tracks said anything, no doubt ready to go home for the night. We walked our bicycles along the tracks, bouncing all along. It seemed to go on forever. We kept our ears and eyes aware for an oncoming train.

Finally, after close to an hour bumping along, I noticed the shrubbery running up the sides of the railroad had a brief blank spot. Where the plants should have continued, there was a bare spot. I hoped it was a road but I wasn't sure if running through all the thorns and plants was worth being wrong. I trucked my bike up the embankment anyway. 

"There's a road here!" I yelled to Josh.

"Really?"

"Yeah! A secret road!" I was ecstatic.

Josh ran through the brush as well and we both got some pretty nice bleeders. A few miles down the road, a barricade of construction materials blocked our path. The road blocks were strung together with chicken wire.

"To hell with this!" Josh yelled. "We've come too far! I'm cuttin through the chicken wire!" And just like in a movie, Josh got his pliers, clipped the wire and shoved the barricade down. We rolled onward.

Down the road in the town of Dakota, a car pulled alongside me.

It was the construction worker from earlier.

"So you guys made it alright?" He asked.

"We took the train tracks. A bit of a rocky path but we made it."

He chuckled. "Hey, that's good to hear. You boys be careful now. Good luck on your trip."

"Thanks man!"

Josh waved as he drove on and I pointed at the vehicle trying to tell Josh with my body language that the inhabitant of the car was important. He got the message.

We finally made it to the Cyclist's Only Campground, and quickly made a fire.

After a dinner of beans and peaches, it's time for rest.