To the River's End: Chapter 6 On to Wisconsin and a leaky tent's last night

Next stop is La Cresent the Apple Capitol of Minnesota. I bought 4 at a stand (one of each variety they had) to sample them. By far, the Sweet Tango was the best; crisp, sweet and juicy. Murphy expects and always gets the core but this time it was chewed pretty clean. I crossed the river to Wisconsin entering Lacrosse the home of Heileman's brewery. As town of 50,000 it has a system of really nice bike trails I follow out of town and am now on State Highway 35. The shoulder is narrower and Wisconsin I learn has not put up any MRT signs to follow but the roads winds through a continuous vista of limestone bluffs on one side and a spectacular view of the river below. Right now the river is filled to the brim from recent rains. The current is swift and seems to be a scary prospect if I were doing this by canoe. The bluff side of the highway is protected from falling rocks by a concrete wall that does it's job. Every few hundred yards a section is blasted apart by a sizable boulder resting behind the exposed steel rebar. I would not want to be driving by in a Prius when one of those bad boys came tumbling onto the highway. You would be nothing more than a smear of battery juice. That night I treated myself to a real campground and stayed at the Black hawk Campground run by the Corps of Engineers. Only about 1/3 of the sites are available as the rest are under water due to flooding. I slip between two huge RV rigs already there each with a circle of chairs and people looking for something interesting to show up. A guy on a bike pulling a golden retriever qualifies. I am soon invited to join a group from Viroqua, WI for a meal of grilled brats, beans, salad and fruit and great company. Better than the can of spagettios I had in store for me that night. One guy is a retired Iron worker who shared his stories of dealing with moronic structural engineers when he learns I am an Architect. I am glad he wasn't a Contractor. That night it rains, not hard but enough to test out my newly re-waterproofed tent for the first time. It failed miserably. It seemed to only slow down the rain and doomed it's existence. I had sentimental attachment as it was the tent Sue and I used when we traveled around the world 28 years ago. It has been on many backpack trips since. But it was it time. It ended its days in the Cabela's dumpster down the road in Prairie du Chien. A new shiny high tech model has replaced it. In Prairie Du Chien, I make my first attempt at securing a safe place to camp by simply knocking on someone's door and asking. I rode along in the gathering darkness, picked out a house with it's lights on and knocked on the door. I pulled the poor guy away from his game on TV. After listening to my spiel, he simply says "I don't care go ahead"and closed the door. I had my spot for the night in the front yard. The next morning as I packed up he did come out and talked with me. He told me his neighbors were calling him about the strange tent in the front yard and wanted to know the story. He told them I don't know but he seemed "like a nice guy" So he had to get some answers.

If you pass through Prairie Du Chein be sure to visit the Villa Louise. It's history is an american version of Downton Abbey. Restored by the State of Wisconsin in all historical detail. Real interesting.

Farewell to the faithful but leaky tent