A mighty storm blew in last night, rattling our tent poles like animal bones. Felines and canines pelted the rooftop of our little pavilion at Laura Ingalls Wilder Park, but somehow Mateo stayed dry while sleeping outside. He credits the mobility of domicile-free sleeping, though he may actually be a meteorological shaman of sorts…
Our goal today was La Crosse, WI
, a town named for the oldest organized sport in North America whose stick resembled a bishop’s crozier, or ‘la crosse’ en Francais.
La jeu de la crosse can be traced back at least as far as the 12th century, when it was played with teams of 100 to 1000 over fields miles long.
From Wikipedia: “These games lasted from sunup to sundown for two to three days straight and were played as part of ceremonial ritual… Early lacrosse was characterized by deep spiritual involvement, befitting the spirit of combat in which it was undertaken. Those who took part did so in the role of warriors, with the goal of bringing glory and honour to themselves and their tribes. The game was said to be played “for the Creator” or was referred to as “The Creator’s Game.”
Anyways, we didn’t end up in La Crosse.
Our ride took us just north to Onalaska, and despite heat that could melt a Denny’s sous chef’s slip resistant soles, we had a grand slam of a ride, managing to stay close together as a party of 8, which made the miles go down like eggs and bacon with a steaming mug of arabica.
Like ducklings over a charred marshmallow roadway we waddled past lily lined lakes and fields bursting with corn
destined for the tummies of gluttonous Yankees.
Our sweat sizzled like syrup stuck to a griddle until we cooled off with ice cream and air conditioned retail flooring, to the delight of the workers, who deemed it ‘bleeping awesome’. The group vetoed mint chocolate chip, which had served three consecutive terms ala FDR, so we had “Truman” Vanilla and “Eisenhower” Cookie Dough. In terms of group preferences, Doughy Defeats Truman.
Our last 23 mile split went by in a blinding flash, and we doubled down on DQ before a Philadelphia Experiment-ish protein pancake dinner at the park.
One more atomic day tomorrow, but the mileage will be lesser and we have already penciled in a swim after our early, cooler start. We hope this new deal will usher in an era of bikepacking prosperity which will see the Across American Dream made real for all who wish to attain it.
