This day was supposed to be the shortest day of the trip, at just under 300 miles. As a result, I didn't feel the need to get up early and hit the road at the crack of dawn. I set a goal of being on the bike by 9 AM.
My alarm went off around 7:30. After the daily shower/shave/dress ritual I wandered down to the continental breakfast area to scope out what they had. It was similar to the previous morning's situation where they changed from their usual breakfast menu to individually wrapped to-go items. Surprisingly enough, their selection of to-go items was pretty good. I loaded up a plate full of food and headed back to my room to eat.
After packing up the last of my things I loaded up the bike and checked out of the hotel. 9:10 AM. Once again, a bit later than I had intended but not too bad.
The goal for today was to pretty much follow the river(s) down the Minnesota/Wisconsin border all the way to La Crosse. The first half of the day I would be riding near the St. Croix river, and the second half of the day along the Mississippi.
When planning the route, I looked at the highways available on the Minnesota side of the border. Staying on this side would have meant a bunch of intersections and turns. However, if I rode on the Wisconsin side, I could pretty much stay on highway 35 the whole way to La Crosse. That seemed simpler, so that's what I opted to do. I did deviate off of highway 35 in a few places where it made sense, either for scenery or just to take a more direct route.
The morning was cool, but nice. Once again it was in the low 60s, so I didn't have to bundle up too bad but I did wear a jacket. I made another trip over the Bong Bridge to Superior, WI, and then headed south on highway 35.
As I rode down highway 35 I passed Pattison State Park, which a sign said had the highest waterfall in Wisconsin. I pulled in to see if perhaps the waterfall was visible without paying a park entrance fee. It wasn't and I wasn't in the mood to pay $11 to see it, so I settled for a picture of the sign.
The road was nice. Not as nice as the previous day's ride, but nice. The map made it look like it followed the river, so I was surprised that I didn't see the St. Croix river at all.
I thought about stopping for a rest break, but didn't really see anywhere that looked like a good place to pull over. So I just kept riding and riding. Finally, after almost two and a half hours and 140 miles I came across the town of Osceola, WI. It looked like there was a lot happening in this town, so I pulled over for my stretch break.
They had a bridge where you could view the Cascade Falls. You also could take a hiking trail down to get a closer view, but I was feeling lazy so I just took a picture from the bridge.
This looked like kind of a cool little town, with a lot of shops on main street and a fair amount of activity.
There was a sign talking about the history of Osceola.
They also had a cigar store complete with a wooden Indian. No worries about being politically correct, I guess.
After about five minutes I decided to get back on the bike and continue on. I had originally scheduled a gas stop in Somerset, WI. In looking at my fuel gauge I was doing great on gas, so I figured I would press on further. I was planning on finding some lunch in Hudson, WI, but I wasn't super hungry. I thought maybe if I see a Kwik Trip between here and there I could stop and kill two birds with one stone.
Somewhere between Osceola and Somerset I was riding along and minding my own business when... WHAM! Something stung me on the inside of my upper right thigh. I felt the pain, but never saw what got me. It had to have been something big to be able to nail me through my jeans. It hurt. Not bad enough to make me pull over (like that would have helped) but certainly enough to make me think about it for the next hour or so. That night in the hotel when I took off my pants I found a nickel-sized welt. Thankfully outside of a bit of pain I didn't have any real reaction.
My dad was extremely allergic to bee stings, to the point where if he got stung we had to immediately take him to the emergency room. I am grateful that I haven't inherited that allergy. Back in high school I once had a sting that made me feel like I had a fever for a couple hours, but overall outside of the pain and some itching as it heals I fare pretty well from bee stings.
At the town of Somerset, I took a three mile shortcut through town on highway 64. Originally this was so I could stop for gas, but I still took the shortcut because highway 35 started to meander in the opposite direction for a few miles.
Speaking of Somerset (and I was) the whole time I had been working on my route, this town sounded familiar. As I rode through Somerset I learned that it is where Apple River is located. When I was in high school, I had a lot of friends who would go tubing at Apple River. I never went myself, and wasn't 100% sure where it was located outside of knowing it was somewhere in Wisconsin. Well, now I know.
Highway 64 rejoined with highway 35, which I stayed on for a mile and then took another shortcut down county road V. This road was only about 4 miles long, but cut out about 4 additional miles on what looked like busier roads. Google Maps kept sending me down this road, so I decided there must be a reason. As it turns out, it was a nice little ride.
One thing I'll say about riding in Wisconsin is their county road system is great. The roads are generally in good repair, and they don't seem too concerned with making them straight as an arrow like they do back in South Dakota.
Back on highway 35, I reached Hudson, WI right about noon and started looking for a Kwik Trip. Sure enough, I found one almost immediately when I entered town. I pulled in and filled my tank. Then I went inside and used the bathroom facilities.
The store didn't let me down. It was nice. Real nice. Tile floors, music, tons of staff, very clean. I used the restroom and then wandered over to the food area to see what my lunch options might be. A woman came up with a tray of cranberry muffin samples and asked if I would like to try one. I wanted to be polite, so I said, "Yes!" Yeah, that's it. I just wanted to be polite. That's the ticket...
I wasn't super hungry, so I grabbed a box of chicken tenders, a chocolate doughnut and an iced tea. Then I went out and stood by the gas pump as I ate.
Two things I noticed about the chicken tenders. First, they were flaming hot making me think they had just come out of the fryer. Very fresh. The other thing was that they were huge. The box said it contained 4 tenders, but they were so big it would have been 8 tenders worth anywhere else. It was a lot more chicken than I expected to be eating. But I didn't want to waste food so I ate them all. Yeah, that's it. I didn't want to waste food. That's the ticket...
My stop wound up being 35 minutes long, which I didn't feel too bad about seeing as I had hardly stopped all morning, and this included both gas and food. I wasn't on time schedule, but at the same time having plenty of time to relax in my hotel room also seemed appealing so unless I saw something unusually scenic or stop-worthy, I didn't feel the need to dawdle.
The next stretch of the journey would take me from Hudson to Prescott, WI. Prescott is where the St. Croix and Mississippi rivers meet.
I rode through Hudson, which was a neat little town. It looks like somewhere I could come back to some day with my wife and explore.
Google Maps routed me through a bunch of back streets in Hudson, eventually dumping me out on County Road F which would rejoin highway 35 just north of Prescott. Highway 35 would jog east for a ways during this stretch, and F stayed closer to the river so I opted to follow Google's suggestion.
I rode through Prescott, which looked familiar as Jon and I came through Prescott from the opposite direction back in 2015. As I came through the main intersection in town, I saw another guy on a motorcycle. After I went by he turned and followed me down highway 35.
Then it happened. I'm not sure exactly where, but somewhere 5-10 miles south of Prescott I decided to look at my map just to see how much farther it was to my next landmark. Often times I'll do this while riding, but to road was a bit curvy so this time I decided I would be "safe" and pull over to look at the map. Plus that would give me a chance to snap a photo.
I slowed and pulled to the side of the road. As my front wheel hit the shoulder, it also hit a deep layer of loose gravel. I had a split second of "oh crap!" thoughts, but before my brain could process that my front wheel had locked up, I found myself going down.
I probably would have been thrown from the bike, had my right foot not gotten trapped under the exhaust pipe. This transferred my momentum from being horizontal, to slamming me straight into the ground. I laid there for a few seconds, my mind trying to put together the puzzle pieces of what had just happened in the matter of seconds.
Once the initial daze passed, the first thing I noticed was that my right leg was trapped. I was laying on my stomach, but my toes were pointing upward toward the sky. I wondered what I could do to free myself, then I remembered the other biker I had passed in Prescott. He couldn't be far behind, could he?
Sure enough, a few seconds later I heard him approach. Good! Surely he will pull over and help me. I turned my head to see him slow down, look at me laying there on the ground with my motorcycle lying on top of me, and then speed back up and head on down the road.
"Really? You have got to be kidding me!" is what ran through my mind. I hope the guy had a really good reason for not stopping, like he was in the Witness Protection Program or something like that.
So I had to figure out how to get my foot free on my own. I mustered all the strength that I could and managed to wriggle it out. Then I slowly stood up and assessed the situation.
The first thing I did was a physical inventory. My right ankle hurt, and the back of my right knee hurt. Nothing seemed to be severely injured, but I knew from experience that often times the severity of the injury doesn't show up for a while. I could walk, but it hurt. I noticed my shoelaces had melted from the exhaust, but thankfully my boots had protected my foot from any burns.
The next thing I did was survey the damage to the bike. In looking around on the ground I could see shards of amber plastic, which I assumed to be my turn signals, and chunks of plexiglass which I assumed came from my windshield or lowers. The motor had stopped running when I went down, so I turned off the ignition just to save the battery and because it seemed like the next logical thing to do.
I thought, "I should take a picture" and reached in my pocket for my camera. It was gone. I had a brief moment of panic that I'd lost all my trip pictures, so I scanned the ditch. I located it fairly quickly in the grass about 15 feet from where I had been laying. It still worked, so I took a picture.
Now I had to figure out how to get the bike back on its wheels. I've lifted my bike on my own before, but that was with two good legs and it wasn't easy. I've found that if I face away from the bike and lift that way I can get a lot more leverage. The bike with the luggage was probably over 900 lbs. Before I attempted to lift the bike I did have the presence of mind to put down the kickstand, so if I got it up I wouldn't proceed to just dump it on the opposite side.
As I was standing there trying to psych myself up for the feats of strength, a car pulled up and a woman got out. I noticed immediately that she was wearing a Harley Davidson t-shirt. She saw the bike laying there and asked if I was OK. I stated that I was, for the most part. I explained that I hit loose gravel and went down. She gave me a knowing nod, lifted her pant leg to reveal a huge scar and said, "loose gravel."
The two of us managed to get the bike up on the kickstand. In all honesty, I don't feel like was able to contribute a whole lot to the effort, so it was probably mostly her. I thanked her, and told her I'd probably be OK on my own from here on out. She wished me well and went on her way.
With the bike upright, I could better assess the damage. I looked at the tail lights. Not broken. Then I looked at my windshield and lowers. Not broken. Then I looked down at the ground and confirmed I had indeed seen shards of plastic and plexiglass. The only thing I can speculate is that another motorcycle had hit the same loose gravel at some point, and didn't fare as well as mine.
The crash bar had lived up to its name, and did its job. There was some new scratches on the bar chrome, but other than that the bike looked like it survived the wreck fairly well. The next thing I wondered was if it would start, and sure enough it fired right up.
As I had no better ideas, I decided I was going to continue my journey. I went to swing my leg over the passenger seat and... wow that hurt! I wound up having to get on the bike from the right side which felt about as awkward as trying to write with my left hand. I took off and headed south.
My right leg was pretty sore, and I fully expected it to get more and more sore as the day progressed. That's usually how it happens. I hoped that it didn't get so sore I couldn't make it to my hotel in La Crosse.
One downside to having a mechanical heart valve is due to the blood thinners I have to take, (so I don't wind up with a stroke,) the only pain killer I'm allowed to have is Tylenol. Unfortunately, I am a non-responder to Tylenol and it pretty much does nothing for me. So when I have a headache or injury, I have to resort to the "grin and bear it" approach. I would have really loved three or four ibuprofen pills to knock the pain level down a click or two. Oh well, I was still alive and I was celebrating that fact so a bit of pain is small potatoes compared to what could have happened.
A few miles down the road I noticed that my right highway peg had gotten bent out of position in the crash. I made a plan to stop at the next convenient location (not on the shoulder this time!) and try to fix it.
I got caught behind a tractor moving at 10 mph for about four miles in a no-passing zone. Four miles at 10 mph takes a little more than twenty minutes. It was pretty frustrating, especially now that I had extra incentive to get to my hotel room as fast as I could. Traffic stacked up behind us as far as my mirror would show. Finally the tractor turned off and I was able to resume normal cruising speed.
One nice thing about highway 35 along the Mississippi in Wisconsin is every five miles or so there are roadside rest areas to allow you to stretch and/or see a scenic view. I noticed the same thing when I've ridden 35 south of La Crosse as well. Because of this, it didn't take long until I came across a rest stop where I was able to (safely) pull over and fix my bent highway pegs.
It was tough getting off the bike with my sore leg, and even tougher getting back on. I decided to snap one more picture of the bike, and from this point on my intention was to stay on the bike until I arrived at the hotel in La Crosse.
Continuing south on 35, I would occasionally pull over to snap a photo. I would stand up while straddling the bike, but I wouldn't get off as it was too painful.
The day was a bit overcast, but not completely cloudy. The temp had risen to the low 70s. I still had my jacket on, and with the wind it was about right when I was moving. I could tell when I stopped that I probably wouldn't want to keep the jacket on for long if I wasn't riding.
There are lots of tree covered bluffs along this part of Wisconsin.
Trees are definitely more plentiful here than back in South Dakota.
At many of the scenic overlook areas there were historical markers talking about interesting things. I probably would have been more inclined to read them had my leg not been motivating me to get to the hotel.
I was riding along when I came to a bridge that looked like it went over the Mississippi. I thought to myself, "Hmmm... that bridge looks familiar." Then it occurred to me that it was the bridge at Wabasha. I had missed a turn and now was on highway 25. I remember that bridge from my trip way back in 2010.
I remembered an intersection about three miles back in the town of Nelson. Perhaps that was where highway 35 branched off? I took a gamble and rode back to the town, and sure enough found where there was a junction I had missed. So there was an extra six miles I got to ride as a bonus on this day.
It was now after 2:30, and I was starting to wear out. I'm sure my accident had a lot to do with taking some of the starch out of my sails. I stopped pulling over to take photos, and just focused on riding.
Highway 35 would have taken me all the way in to La Crosse. I had ridden 35 from La Crosse to Winona with Jon back in 2015. I had never ridden highway 14 on the west side of the river from Winona to La Crosse, and had heard it was a scenic stretch of highway. So I opted to cross the bridge into Winona and take this new route.
The town of Winona is home to Winona State University, one of the rival schools to my alma mater the University Of Sioux Falls. I have yet to attend a sports event on the Winona campus. On this day I rode right by their football field, so I pulled over and took a photo.
The next week the Northern Sun Conference would cancel all fall sports, so I wouldn't be able to watch my beloved USF Cougars play the Winona Warriors in football. Hopefully next year.
From Winona, it was only 30 more miles to La Crosse.
As I was leaving town, I happened to look up and see an interesting rock formation. Google would later tell me it's called the "Sugar Loaf." It reminded me of a mini Devil's Tower, or maybe the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Highway 14 was indeed scenic. It also was a four lane highway, and traffic moved along at a pretty good clip. For the last 6 miles or so it merged with Interstate 90.
I managed to take the wrong exit in La Crosse, so I had to turn around and get back on the interstate. My correct exit was the next one.
I pulled into the hotel at 3:55 PM and gingerly got off the bike. I limped into the hotel lobby and checked in. They gave me my room number and told me a different place to park that would be closer to bring in my luggage. I went into my room and dumped all the things I had in my hands, then hobbled back out the bike and winced as I got back on.
I didn't bother putting my helmet on, I just putted around the back side of the building and found a parking spot. From there, it was indeed closer to my room.
My room smelled funny. Not necessarily bad, just an unusual chemical type smell. I finally decided it must have been new carpet. After a few minutes in the room I didn't notice it any longer.
Once in my room I laid down and relaxed. I texted my wife to tell her I had made it safely to my destination. I didn't bother trying to tell her about the accident via text, as I probably couldn't properly convey what had happened without making it sound worse than it was. Those details could wait until I made a phone call later that evening.
She texted back to tell me the Twins game was in the 7th inning. I hadn't realized they had a day game; I thought they played that evening. I turned on the TV and thankfully this hotel carried the channel that showed the game. I watched the final few innings of the game, which was pretty good despite what the 7-3 final score would have you believe.
After the game was over I considered taking a nap, but really wasn't that tired (at least the sleepy kind of tired.) Overall on this trip I slept a lot longer at night than most years.
So instead I flipped the TV over to the White Sox game and read my book. I had a hard time finding a place to sit where I could both relax while reading and keep my leg comfortable. I finally figured out if I wheeled the desk chair over and sat with my leg propped up on the bed it wasn't too bad.
The chicken tenders at lunch really stayed with me for a long time. Around 6:30 I started thinking about finding somewhere to go eat. Not necessarily because I was super hungry, but because I don't like to eat too close to bed time. I've noticed that I'm getting old like that. I now know why retired people eat supper at 4 PM. I'm not to that level yet, but I can certainly see the path there.
I Googled "best restaurants in La Crosse" and saw a few options that looked interesting. I then hobbled down to the lobby and asked the clerk at the desk what her favorite restaurant in town was. Usually the local people know the good places.
She asked, "are you looking for dine in or carry out?"
I responded by saying that I'm on a motorcycle, so probably dine in. She said the Crow was a popular place, but they just serve appetizers and most people go there for for the drinks. I said that being on a motorcycle I should probably avoid drinks (I don't drink, anyway.) She then recommended Rudy's, which is an old style drive-in where you eat in your car. Again, not motorcycle friendly. I thanked her for her time and returned to my room to resume my Google search.
A few other places I found looked like they had good food, but appeared to be fancier than what I wanted. I didn't bring any nice clothes with me, and after a few days on the road you tend to look a bit grubby.
I finally decided on a place not too far from the hotel called "North Country Steak Buffet." All the steak you can eat for $13.50. Sounded like my kind of place.
I went in and was seated, and told how the buffet now works with all the COVID-19 restrictions. I had to wear a mask when not sitting at my table. I had to use hand sanitizer, then put on gloves while I went through the buffet line. At the end of the line there was a place to dispose my gloves. Nothing too cumbersome, but definitely different from what restaurants were like just six months ago.
I went through the buffet line and filled two plates full of food.
The verdict? Well, the steak tasted like a steak you would expect to get at a place that sells all-you-can-eat for $13.50. The rest of the food, however, was excellent. The salad was the best I'd had in a while. The sides were great. The desserts were good. I would definitely return.
They also had burgers and chicken available at the grill in addition to steak. I didn't try them as my second time through the buffet I got another steak, mainly to see if the flavorless piece of meat I got the first time was an anomaly. It wasn't. I should have grabbed a burger instead of a second steak.
Once I was good and full, I left a big tip and departed. Across the street from the restaurant was a Kwik Trip, so I went and gassed up. Then I rode back to the hotel.
When I arrived I found another motorcycle sitting in the parking space next to mine. That one was nicer, so I figured if thieves came along they would probably steal that bike instead.
Back in the hotel room I called home, but got no answer. I kept trying until about 9:15 when my wife finally picked up. She had a friend visiting and they had been out grocery shopping. I told her about my day and the wreck while she unloaded the groceries from the car. In the midst of her trying to put the groceries away, the Tundra Boy came home from work again, so she cut the conversation short. I was OK with that though as I wanted to hit the hot tub before they closed the pool area for the night.
I limped down to the pool, which was on the opposite side of the hotel. I was the only person in the area, which was OK by me. I just wanted to sit in the tub and soak my leg. I set the timer to turn on the jets, but they didn't seem to work no matter which way I twisted the knob. Finally I gave up and just sat in non-bubbly water. After about 15 minutes I got out, and my leg actually did feel a bit better.
Back in the hotel room I continued to read my book until about 10:30 when I forced myself to put it down and turn out the lights. Bed time.
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This page last updated on 05/17/2023