Chapter 3 To Frontenac and an Oasis of Civility

On my way to Red Wing I pass over the Cannon River Bike Trail . While there is no actual connection as I am on a highway bridge passing above, I bushwhacked down a weedy slope to the trail. This is short cut-a flat trail along the river right into the back door of Red Wing. Unfortunately, a half mile down the trail I am accosted by a trail worker who gets pretty upset when he sees a dog in a trailer as it is apparently against the rules (I knew this already but decided to play dumb). He is forced to let me proceed as there is no alternative direction to the nearest exit point other than a helicopter.  I asked him what the purpose of the rule was.  "Well the dog would endanger wildlife and other bikers."  In a trailer? "Well he could jump out and attack a deer."  At this point I realized leading him with logical reasoning was going nowhere and proceeded on.  In Red Wing I spot 3 boys enjoying the summer's day. They have climbed to the top of a steel pile harbor wall and leaping off about 25' into the murky water below.
I had to grin at the recklessness of youth.  I later encounter one of the boys at the local Dairy Queen and asked him how they knew the water was deep enough to safely jump. He answered "we didn't" and raced off on his bike doing wheelies. I had driven through Red Wing over a hundred times over my  life and have never really seen it until now. I ride through well groomed parks, leafy neighborhoods of great old houses and interesting shops that I never see as I am usually blowing through on the highway. That afternoon I arrive at my destination of Frontenac at the home of my friend Jean Pontzer and her husband Ross.  They have what they call a cottage right on Lake Pepin.  Cottage may be a bit modest as it is a beautiful gem of glass and gables thoughtfully designed inside and out surrounded by gardens .  They are forewarned of my arrival and host a gathering of neighbors and friends to a BBQ complete with entertainment that evening.  The next day is spent relaxing and playing yard games to allow me to recover from my first couple days of travel. That night I dodge a furious thunderstorm that dumps rains all night while I am safely esconced inside.  I wonder how bad it would have been in a tent. The next morning I am stuffed full of breakfast and loaded with baked goodies and sent on my  way. From now on there is no place of refuge for me down river.