My Adventure: by Rolf Thompson
“Where you headed?”
The question was frequent – from complete strangers passing in the campground, entering the coffee shop, or from a rolled down window of a passing pick-up on a remote gravel road.
“Do you mean today, or ultimately?” I always kind of liked the existential nuance of my response.
I never tired of these encounters that riding a bicycle loaded with camping gear – enough for a self-sufficient trip for a month of late summer Minnesota weather – enabled. I was on a route I had made up – it wasn’t one of those curated by the many cycling organizations that specialize in mapping long-distance routes that then are ridden by dozens, if not hundreds of people a year, making the sight of a biker coming through town not a novelty anymore.
My route was a circumnavigation of Minnesota, my beloved home state, in 2021. Somehow, I had decided it would be fun and interesting to bicycle around the perimeter of the state. But wait, isn’t the border either water or a fence row through a corn field? How do I define the perimeter that is bike-able? Maybe I drew on my ninth-grade civics knowledge that every county has a courthouse in a town called the county seat. Why not ride to each perimeter county seat and take a photo of my bike in front of the courthouse? I could call that the “perimeter” – at least for my purpose.
The outline of my route was born. In the end the trip was 1,700 miles in 28 days, mostly solo, and mostly self-supported. Sixty percent of the riding was on pavement, thirty-five percent on gravel roads, five percent on bike trails. I camped most nights with some overnights in hotels, or with friends, or warm-shower hosts.
Why bicycle travel? I love the independence, the physical challenge, and the mental stimulation of navigating, of daily monitoring my nutrition and hydration needs, and of learning about the landscapes and communities I encounter.
Over the month of seeing my home state at the speed of a bicycle (and, believe me, at times that speed can be quite slow) I experienced familiar landscapes in entirely new ways and perspectives. For example, from my undergraduate study of glacial geology I knew that most of northwestern Minnesota had been covered by a huge lake – Glacial Lake Agassiz – whose years of sediment resulted in the flat terrain of the Red River Valley and surrounding counties. I had driven across this area dozens of times, usually in a matter of hours. I had watched migrating waterfowl on numerous prairie potholes.
But, at the speed of a bike, riding west from International Falls and then making a left turn at the North Dakota border, I rode for ten days with hardly a change in elevation much less an actual hill. I had to phone my friend, the retired earth science teacher, to have him remind me of the extent of Glacial Lake Agassiz. I was never so glad to encounter an actual hill as the day I crossed the Laurentian Divide between Lake Traverse and Big Stone Lake on the South Dakota border – leaving the flatness of the glacial lake bottom behind.
On a bicycle people see you as approachable and not threatening. Many are curious, and I love the interactions this enables. I met innumerable folks I would never meet as an automobile tourist:
- The mayor of a small town who had been re-elected numerous times and could name all four people who voted against her in the last election.
- The cop in a small town who introduced himself as the “Police Chief” – who, I later learned, was the town’s only policeman.
- The retired farmer who introduced me to everyone in the coffee shop and whose life story was shared over a few cups in the two hours I lingered.
- The guy in line behind me at Subway who asked if he could eat his sandwich with me and told me the travails and joys of raising a family and trying to improve the small community he and his wife grew up in.
Advice to Others:
- Get off the curated routes. I started with an “idea” (cycle the perimeter of Minnesota), then used Google maps to create a rough outline. Then I used Ride With GPS to refine a more detailed route. In addition, many states (usually the Departments of Transportation) produce biking maps showing the relative traffic volumes and even the width of road shoulders.
- Pack light – each item should earn its place on your bike. But don’t be afraid to bring a luxury item or two (I bring a small camping chair) if it will add to your quality of life.
- Start close to home and small. When I was discovering bike touring I used the “Break-In” system – short trips close to home to test my systems – and whether or not I really enjoyed it.
- Don’t get paralyzed by all the information out there in a quest to find the perfect system. Just start with what you have and try things out. There are a multitude of ways to bike tour/pack – just start and do what works – and is enjoyable – for you.
