The day began with a dirty bike, 45 degree temps, and no rain.  I rectified the first, ignored the second (wearing five layers of clothing) and prayed that the third would continue.  Then I took off on what was intended to be a quick ride to get through Minneapolis and as far west as I could before any rain fell.  The Mississippi and her history put an immediate crimp on those plans.  The road alongside had historical markers every few miles.  And “Locks and Dams”.  And nature signs.  I just couldn’t not stop.  It took two hours to go 60 miles.  All the while the Sirius weather map was showing rain in the east, creeping towards me.  I was getting hungry but couldn’t afford the delay.  Raindrops began to fall once in a while, but I was always able to get ahead of any serious rain.  But even with the constant threat, I still couldn’t not stop to look.  Indian wars.  Dipper ducks and Diving ducks.  Dozens of Locks and Dams making the river navigable, with historical commentary.  Lake City is the birthplace of waterskiing.  Winona has a wonderful war memorial.

Just a few dozen miles south of Minneapolis I gave into hunger and the reality that I couldn’t avoid the rain, which was now closing in on three sides.  There was no way I was driving through the city in the rain.  True caution is the art of not getting into bad situations so one need not exhibit amazing skills to get out of them.  I stopped to eat, predicting to the waitress that it would start raining in less than ten minutes (it did).  Wonderfully good meat loaf sandwich, though it failed to have bacon on top, meaning my mom’s still takes first place.

In heavy rain I found a hotel 11 miles away.  The desk manager sounded like the characters in Fargo.  Cool.  (I’ll be in Fargo tomorrow.  “No, wait! There’s another historical marker!”)

(By the way, I have been diligent about keeping the bike clean.  This morning a person thought I’d just bought it. Locally.)