Not Hasty at All

I'm getting in the habit of explaining how or why I'm so slow to refresh this blog. I'm behind 7 at this very moment. This is January 3rd's post and I'll post every time I can because I'm getting tired of trying to remember what happened and others asking what's going on followed by a Fecesbook intervention that helped me see how I'm just hurting everyone around me by not posting to it. Blame my buddy, BreakTime.

Time to tell a tail of how 5 bloke's bush bashed their way a few dozen miles over ice and reed to have lunch and then ride home. The first photo is ice so thin I had to scout if it would even hold our weight and then return for my bike as my buddies use the trail. It held but not without an ear full of cracking. The second photo is the last of a dry foot crossing.

This is the trail we came fore. Ripping double track in deep woods and miles of it. An absolutely ripping good time. The Mayor and Best In Shoe take to blazing the trail. Deathrider, Corky and I form the remaining peloton.

This is a photo op and nature break. There was a split in the trail and we needed to regroup after finding the primary line of weakness through the woods.

We drop out of the woods and grab a bit of river trail. Snowmachines already tested the ice so it's ok for us but all things revealed I'd rather not be on river ice. If I have too, I need to see the ice and be able to assess the quality directly. With snow cover, it's Norwegian Roulette and you're going to die of exposure. (We have a plan if it happens to one of us)

 Corp of Engineers dam I suspect but it makes a proper trail crossing to the better ice just south of us. We are moving more by land and hunting for any discovery of future camps or adventure jump offs.

At times we are forced to cast. That's a tracking term whereby members spread out and report trail or track quality. This leaves some member the job of anchoring the end of the last trail. In scuba, it's called "the point of lostness". Sounds silly but knowing where the last place you 'know' marked is very helpful to getting back into the map that's in your head. "I came from there"

Back out on the lake we roll with reserved speed. We have no place to go and we are just taking in the day. This is a warm day for January and we are already sick of winter and looking for any way to enjoy a moderately warm day.

ATV's have bashed this trail otherwise we wouldn't do something like this. I'm not against ATV's but this isn't responsible and its going to get the attention of the fun police.

 Drag race to lunch.

 Roadside attraction. You have to be impressed by a huge tree root ball that's only 2 feet thick. What's in the ground below us? A slab of granite?

Ok, lunch and the turn around time for the group [Corky already turned when the day went long]. Big, cold fighting fire, lunch of meat on a stick and a few hot bevs. We are all very happy to eat all the food we have because the best way to carry food is in our tummy's.

 I'm really starting to like this Esbit (solid fuel) kit. It's too small for a multi-day but it's great for wind and a few water boils. I'm making hot cider to wash down some meats.

Below: Gnome! (its a face) I have developed an interest in finding these creatures of nature. I'm convinced that if you spend enough time in the woods you start to see the face of nature looking back at you. If you think that's a bit of fun you're short a few hundred hours of hiking because it's true.

Always looking for shelters and a way to get away from man-made and into more skill based, 'live in the land' camping this could make an awesome shelter with a tarp or maybe a lot of downed wood and sticks. Add a tiny fire and you would be almost comfortable.

 The return route is shortened for time but puts us on some bad ice that probably takes more time.

This is an uncross-able log jam. It's best we couldn't cross it because we would have been trapped on the wrong side of open water. I try and cross the ice in front and behind and I got onto ice that was maybe an inch thick. Enough that I called to Deathrider to watch and help me retrace my steps and my foot went though and my heart rate went up. Normally, I'm in a dry suit and it's fun, this was near panic.

This ice is rotten but it's also shallow, maybe knee deep. Cold and unpleasant but by no means dangerous. We all make great effort to keep dry feet. Little do we know the river we crossed at the start is now flowing with melt.

Below: This is the river and it's knee or more deep. We have to ride though it and get soaking wet feet. I slide on the ice and splash around trying not to fall ass first into the river. I narrowly avoid going for a full swim but we are less than a mile so I don't have long in my now, very, wet clothes. 

We didn't ride far and we didn't ride fast and I didn't post it for 4 month. It was fun, that's what really matters.

High Marks

All the creeks and rivers in town are approaching the highest marks in decades. We haven't been in the packrafts together for a long time so we mapped a plan to finish a route we started back in "I love a good disaster". It's sunny, nice, and the bugs are expected to be huge.

 We air up and launch into the main of the Mississippi, under the bridge and into the Vermillion.

 We turn in to the Vermillion or what becomes the Vermillion. We don't see shore for the next 3 hours.

 For the new readers we have our 'shuttle' bikes on the bow of our Alpacka Rafts. The way we tie them on is a personal preference and what bike you have. 

We are completely spoiled with the river all to ourselves. Around this time we lose the proper river waterway because of a huge log jam packed with branches picked up from the flooding making a massive nest. Maybe 200 feet across. We paddle around it but in the flooding we actually traverse into Lake Isabelle (not connected to the river) .

When we discover we are in Isabelle we laugh a little and then start working on a way back to the river. If we could float in, we can float out. I look at the map and see a short pointed bay that must be the exit we need. We were correct and the views through the woods were awesome. The water is maybe 5 feet deep in the photo below.

We need to weave around a few very tight trees and some fences but a short time after we float into Isabelle we float out. This day is working out better then we could have planned. The water is moving us fast enough that we don't need to paddle and the sun is out and the bugs are not so we drift.

 Time for taffy and a long slow raft. We lean back into the boats and 'slow the roll'

 If pictures are really worth a thousand words please don't read out loud, we're relaxing.

 Shhhhh

 Out of the trees and having a good long siesta it's time time to paddle out. That means we need to dig in deep and paddle hard at the best time to pull out of the current that's been pulling us along.

Popping out of the main current, we make landfall. Within minutes of landing we break out snacks and load up on water because we're about to get on the bikes and this is the best opportunity to lard the fuel you need to ride back and still have fun and not crater and hate the day.

 Eat, pack up and ride out.

We add some miles on the bike because we took out a little early on the rafts. The plan was to go another 3 miles but with the flooded banks the current was too slow and we aren't sure the exit is even above water so we pull out and ride. It's really great to roll out some miles and collect some intel for the next trip.

Back at the starting point and the high marks on the river are matched by the high marks on the rafting adventure. On that, I give high marks to the day.

All-Temperacheer

I am fortunate enough to have MLK day off so after I considered world peace and abandon the idea, I grabbed the studded bike and went out on the river where I would find some peace or at least no people which is the same as far as I can tell. The weather guessers told me it was suppose to be cold and get colder so I was happy to test some gear configurations but they got it wrong and it warmed up to about -1. I was hoping for the reported -14. Anyway, I overheated some and had to walk and cool down at times.

When its really cold out the rivers are almost safe to ride but you need to use every bit of spider sense to assess the ice. With it so warm I had to turn and run twice. Well maybe not run but I wasn't wasting any time getting the hell away for the scary stuff. I'm a real tough guy in my fancy drysuit but put me in civilian cloths and I could pinch a hole in my pants running away from it. I retreat twice withing 15 minute of getting on the ice but get my sea legs and start cutting in and out of the weakest of ice.

The temps are low but I can't tell in all my gear. I'm dressing in thin windproof layers that I roast in if I  really start railing on it for speed. I unzip to cool down or stop and lay down on the ice. That works well but scares the hell out of people on shore. I have no idea how long these rides go but 4 hours is the low end. I just ride and plan things to do in summer. If you want to find places to kayak, winter is the ticket.

Below: The thin ice is maybe 3 inches so it's fine but can't be trusted at anything but slow speeds. I figure I can hug shore and if I do break through it will be so shallow I can carry it to shore or better ice and only get a wet foot.

Not true. Shore is getting ground water flow. I think these are springs or breaks in the ground water that release into the river. It makes sense and when I did some cave diving in Florida the ground water would find all kinds of cracks and Minnesota has the same sandstone/limestone (aka Karst)

This is wild. It made me skid to a stop. It's the foot print of an oak tree. 

I had to climb a hill of dirt and sticks and ride about a mile of road to get past a lot of scary ice. The cliff or palisade of the lower river means shore is also deep water with the springs. I have to head out to mid channel and that's faster moving water and thinner ice. When I return it's awesome.

I find a Tiki!
Compared to the graffiti I've found in drains this sucks but it will do.

In summer this strainer would be a portage but now I thread the needle and pass with only a few sticks in the face.

I have to get off the backwater and find this road. It's a dead end on both ends.

The road leads me to a large fence with a strong odor and signs telling me I'm being watched so I go to the otherway and get dumped out on this sandbar.

I leave the bike and walk out to get a better photo of the 34 degree steam.

To get off the sandbar and back to mainland and the security of the shelf ice of shore I have to cross a channel and it's popping and cracking. Part of it is from the cold. When I scuba on very cold days the ice cracks and pops all day, some very loudly so I know not to worry about the powerful cracking I hear. The minor cracks make me watch every move. I take this photo mid crossing. You can see the ice is over 4 inches so I know that's plenty (when I'm in my drysuit)

This is the distance I need to close. I'm mid channel and the ice gets thinner. I walk the bike so I can feel the cracking if I need to retreat.

The crossing complete I find the hobo camp from last springs, Songlines but this time I get up close. Back then I think it was occupied. The trash is ugly. I see too much trash these days. Every place I go is covered in trash. Scuba... trash, Hike... trash... Ride...trash....trash,trash,trash.

I wanted to find a date to tell me how active this camp is.

I'll probably go back and pick this crap up so I don't find it when I packraft this summer. The spring floods will move it and I'll find it later on. I'll leave a sign about how their mom doesn't work here and they need to pick up after themselves but if their mother cared, they would not be hobo's.

Leaving hobo camp the shore gets steep and the ice follows. 

Is there water under that shelf or more ice? 

The shore usually continues under water so we could be in deep water if I get it wrong.

I just cut my way out to better ice and find some speed. 

I've been on a lot of ice but this is the best surface hoar frost. 

Hoar frost is radiation frost when ice forms spicules. When air get very cold and molecular water is forced out of the air and it grows on other ice forming these ferns.

Getting close to the end my ride the ice is getting reliable and the trash on shore is every few feet.

The water in the background is the end of my shore without a dry land portage but this tree was interesting. It's entombed in hoar frost.

I didn't make it to the source of the warm water but I did inch out onto the ice until it cracked and started to sink before taking this photo. The wind is blowing hard to the south making the scalloped rim of ice you see. I look over the edge and guess it's maybe 3 feet deep.

This is the end of the line for me. I turn it and return home via ice but jump off to road to avoid the crossing at hobo camp and the bad shore line a few miles south.

In total I'm out about 4 hours, cover about 20 miles and my digital thermometer reports -6.

The weatherman got it wrong but I still cheered for the colder temps. Winter is only as bad as your gear and a little bit about believing you can be comfortable in the cold. Like chores, once you start it's not so bad and you can get lots of stuff done.The bark of cold is worse then the bite or should I say bike.