Guy Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages

Adventures in Sport Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT

Exploring North America...One Road at a Time

Day 3
June 4, 2001
Near Albert Lee, Minnesota

The morning light stirred me out of a deep sleep.  I had a great nights sleep.  The night time temps dipped to a cool 52, and made for very good sleeping weather.  My therm a rest and sleeping bag felt as good as any 5 star hotel.  The campground was quiet and dark, and my sleep came quickly and stayed long.

It was overcast but not rainy as I broke camp, and strapped my gear down.  I started the engine at 5:30am and rode out.  The campground host was still as sleep in his RV as I rode past.

I picked up I-90 west for a short ride, and exited at Alden for SR 109.  It was cool, so I took this time to change gloves and put my liner under my Roadcrafter.  I am once again chagrinned to learn how poorly I am judging morning temps.  I should be better at this after all my years of riding.  I comfort myself by thinking, I am not use to a 50 degree June morning in Alabama.

American flags canopy Main Street in Alden.  It is a impressive sight.  The village is just beginning to wake up, and I see commuters making their way out to their cars for the commute to wherever it is they need to go.

In Alden I switch over to SR 22, and take a more northwesterly tack.  The road is good and traffic is light. The morning sun is casts my silhouette forward and to the left.  Early morning sunlight has a soft tint here.  The cool, clear air is not like the hazy humid air that hangs low in Alabama this time of year.  

I rode by Minnesota Lake and waved at two elderly fisherman launching a boat.  One guy stood in the rear while his partner backed the boat down the ramp.  It looked like the driver was a rookie at backing a trailer.

The sun quickly burned off the morning overcast, and it was shaping up to be great day.

I arrived in Mankato at rush hour and was bottlenecked in a construction zone.  I fall in a long line of stalled cars and waited my turn.  It was then I saw a crotch rocket zip up the right shoulder and on impulse I fell in behind him.  We rode up the shoulder for about a mile, and find a break when a 18 wheeler lets us back in.  I safely guess, we passed over 200 cars, and saved ourselves one hour.

I briefly got lost as I guessed wrong at  poorly marked detour.  I find myself in a neighborhood looking at my intended route behind a row of trees.

When I got straightened out, I was on US 14 west.

I traveled US 14 to New Ulm.  Here, I veered north on SR 15.  This was my first visit to Minnesota, and I am riding along soaking in the scenery.  New Ulm was busy on this morning, and I noticed a gray mini van tearing along in a shopping center parking lot.  My radar identified it as bogey, because it seemed to be a hurry.  I quickly took a look at where it was heading, a red light controlled intersection, leading out of the parking lot.  My brain quickly ran the numbers telling me at present speed and direction we would arrive at the intersection the same time.  I backed off and covered the brakes.  The van rolls in and makes a quick right turn on red, dead in the path of a hapless commuter.  He tags the soccer mom at the left rear wheel, and they go to the side to start the paperwork.

I took my first break of the day in the tiny town of Winthrop, located at SR 15 and SR 19.  I wheel the ST into a Minnesota version of a 7-11 and top off the gas tank.  Chilled, I stepped inside for a snack and to warm up.  I was feeling good at already having knocked off 125 miles.

I spend a few moments in idle chat with the clerk.  A retired teacher from the local high school.  He said it was a little chilly "even for Minnesota" today.

I continued north on SR 15, the sun slowly warming up the countryside.  The highway was quiet and I was able to get in some "quality" time in the saddle.  I spent time thinking about mundane things like the summer job I had in school, and how working it taught me to appreciate a good job.

In Dassel, I skipprd the chance to visit The Old Depot Railroad Museum in favor of putting in some more miles.  I still wonder what that museum was all about, oh well its a big country and I can't see everything on one trip.

I turned west on US 12 and stopped in Darwin at a local store for Mountain Dew.  Two teen age boys in a pick up loaded with lawn mowers were filling gas cans for their landscaping business.  I heard one of them sarcastically say " I never thought I would see the day it would cost 5 bucks to fill a lawn mower".

Just east of Willmar US 12 takes a more northerly path.  It is still cool and I continued riding with liner and gloves the rest of the day.  I guess the temp to be in the 60s, a typical winter day in Alabama.  I have not felt temps like this since last February.

Benson, Minnesota.  Sounded like a good place for lunch.  A billboard proclaims the Otay to have the best food in town and who am I to argue.  I make my way past the video stores and tanning bed salons in the business district to find the Otay on quiet street just a few blocks from US 12.

Beating the lunch crowd I quickly found a booth.  The daily special is prominently marked on a white board above the kitchen.  One of those wipe board things we use in the fire department back home for critiques, that someone always manages to mangle by using a permanent marker.  Broasted chicken and 2 vegetables.  It sounded good so I ordered it.

I left a 3 dollar tip for a delightful young waitress that was very efficient, and had to be enlightened to what true iced tea really is.  A commodity that has been in short supply since I left Kentucky.

Ten days later, while watching the national news in Phoenix, I was saddened to learn Benson was heavily damaged by a tornado, with many injuries.  My mind instantly flashed back to my waitress of that day, hoping she came out unscathed.

SR 9 took me west out of Benson.  The landscape was giving way from green ground cover and trees to the prairie of West Minnesota and the Dakotas.  The farming communities were lined up all in a row on SR 9.  I passed through hamlet after hamlet.  Places such as Clontarf, Hancock, Donnelly and Norcross.  Their city limit signs all the same-

Norcross City Limits  population 300

In the beginning, I would slow down to the posted 30mph speed limit as I approached these towns.  I grew tired of that, and got braver and braver, the farther west I rode. None of the towns on SR 9 looked liked they could afford a full time patrolman, so I began cruising through at 50.  The lower the population on the sign, the faster I went.

I overtook a bareheaded Harley rider east of Campbell, his legs splayed out on highway pegs.  How anyone could ride with all that noise and wind for any length was not for me to understand.

At the border town of Breckenridge I stopped for a break at a gas/food mart store.  Tired of Mountain Dew I drank lemonade and ate beef jerky.  I also took this time to call my son and confirm he got the summer job I lined up for him before I left.  It pays to have old friends.

As I was leaving town, I spotted the local library and breezed in to check my e mail on a PC.  I walked in with riding gear and helmet in hand and asked a typical library lady-

"look here m'am,  reckon I can borrow a computer for a few minutes?"

"yeah, but you gotta fill this out first"

"what is this? A waiver I won't look at naked sites while on the web?"

"never heard it put like that, but yes it is"

"so why make a guy read 3 pages if that's what ya wanna say? Just write- DON'T be looking at naked pics on our computers"

I logged on to find 15 or so emails.  Most of it junk but a few noteworthy.  Mostly from friends on the ST site wanting to know my whereabouts.  I fired off a quick note to Dennis to post something on the BBS I was well and in North Dakota.

I got back on the road and crossed into North Dakota.  As I crossed the state line I thought about how I was now able to say I have rode or driven in all 48 lower states.  Not a big deal in this day and age but still a nice accomplishment.

In North Dakota I got on unlucky SR 13.  Not unlucky for me, as I had a nice tailwind pushing me along.  SR 13 cut its way past green prairie and farmland.  I was surprised at how green things were.  I could see standing water in the fields, and mud on the berm.  I found myself straddling 2 overflowed farm ponds that were all but touching the highway on both sides.  I surmised North Dakota must be in the middle of wet spring.

I was not far from my goal of Fort Ransom State Park.

I turned north onto SR 32 and the friendly tailwind became an annoying crosswind, blowing and gusting me all over. 

The day was drawing to a close.  I still had plenty of daylight left, but I felt like there was no need to knock myself out by trying to tack on more miles.  When I arrived in Lisbon, I ducked into a well stocked supermarket for supper items.  I picked up some ground beef, and baked beans, desert would be a can of peaches.

The wind is no better when I leave Lisbon.  It still rocked me the remaining few miles to Fort Ransom.

I followed the signs down a few secondary roads to find Fort Ransom Park.  Stopping to read a sign posted at the site of the original fort. 

The park office is unattended and I all have is 20 dollar bill for the 10 dollar camping fee.  I leave a note to come find me and I would gladly pay.

Fort Ransom is located alongside the Sheyenne River.  I picked a nice spot near the river and pitched my tent.  I inflated my pad and rolled out my sleeping bag, and quickly fell asleep listening to the breeze rustling through the trees.

After a nice nap I took a walk to the canoe rental areas. The park is empty and as far as I can see I am the only camper in the area.

The sun was going down as I broke out my Coleman stove to fix supper.  I only have a one burner, but it's all I need. I cooked up my hamburger without the bread and warmed up my baked beans.  A jackrabbit picked up the scent and hopped near me.  He stood up on his hind legs and twitched his nose, he was a old hand at this I surmised, by the size of his now exposed tummy.  I tossed him a few stale Pringles and  Ike and Mikes.  I looked across to the meadow, and 3 does were grazing while a 4th appeared to be on sentry duty.

As I was cooking a young park ranger rode in and gathered my 10 dollar camping fee.  She was a student working her 5th summer at the park.  

I cursed my 4 dollar Wal Mart mess kit.  It was bending and clumsy and hard to work with, promising myself I need to stop and get a better kit soon.

After supper I took a short ride up the hill to the showers, and on the way back I saw the young attendant shoveling horse manure from the park drive.  I was impressed by her work habits.  I presumed she had been raised on a farm at the way she handled the shovel.   It was then I noticed the culprits-4 horseback riders on their way back to the stables at the end of the road.

I got out my cell phone on the outside chance I would have a signal, I didn't.

It would be another cool night, but not as cool as Minnesota.  My 30 degree rated sleeping bag would be just fine.

I zipped up my tent and read till I got sleepy, dropping off to sleep about 11pm.  It was another great day.