On To The Headwaters–Lake Itasca
By the time we were ready to head out from the cabin on the lake Dave had made his decision as to what he was going to do–sort of. He dismissed the idea of trading the bike and also was not inclined to push his luck by riding it back to Denver and counting on keeping the battery charged. Which meant he would not be going on with us.
He decided he would take the bike to a dealer in the Twin Cities and fly home. Whether to fly back and ride home or drive out and trailer it home was still up in the air, dependent on his wife’s inclination to make a trip out to visit the family. But the rest of us were pushing on. And first we had to get up that driveway.
As with going down, we let one rider go at a time, making sure he was clear before the next hit it. And you know what? Nobody had even the slightest problem. A lot of fretting for nothing. And the Great River Road ride was on once again.
Bob was in the lead now. We picked up the river again at St. Cloud and continued north. We rode well over 100 miles this first leg so by the time we stopped I really needed a restroom. When I came out Bob told me the proprietor of the station had asked that we move the bikes to clear the drive–which was about 40 feet wide. Bob was annoyed so I figured I’d not do the station the honor of buying their gas. I looked at my gauge and figured I could make it all the way to Detroit Lakes–our stop for the night–without more gas.
I heard Bob talking about our route taking us through Bemidji, and a quick look at the map confirmed that that would take us right through Cass Lake (the town), where I have history, so I told him I wanted to stop there to get a picture by the city limit sign. Bob said you lead. I did.
We got to Cass Lake, I stopped and got my picture, then we went looking for lunch. There’s not much in Cass Lake any more but we did find an Indian casino that was new since I had last been here, and they had a restaurant. After lunch Bob checked the route and said we actually hadn’t needed to go to Bemidji (and thus not to Cass Lake, either) so we backtracked about 10 miles and took a different road. No matter, we got to Itasca State Park, home of Lake Itasca and the headwaters of the Mississippi River.
How is it that this lake is the headwaters, you might ask. Aren’t there streams running into the lake, and couldn’t you follow one of them (which one?) to its own origin and call that the headwaters? Well, apparently, there are not streams running into the lake, it is spring-fed. And the 15-foot-wide, 1-foot-deep stream that flows out is the very beginning of the Mississippi. Cool. I find it hard to believe that my family didn’t come here at one point but none of it looked familiar. Bad memory; more than 50 years ago.
This was what we had come for, so now was the beginning of the ride home. Detroit Lakes was still some ways away and my fuel was running uncomfortably low. I mentioned to Bob that if we came on a gas station we should stop. Nobody else was needing gas and this is someone who doesn’t like to stop so there was discussion and it was suggested that I go ahead and top off now from one of the cans that several people carry with them. I wasn’t keen on that so I said no, let’s just go–I’m pretty sure I can make it all the way.
Good thing because we didn’t pass any gas stations. I did make it to Detroit Lakes, though I probably didn’t have more than another 15 or 20 miles in the tank when we got there. But I got there.
Biker Quote for Today
Whenever I tell motorcycle jokes, people laugh out loud. It feels like a Triumph every time.
