Bicycle Capital of the World

Day 4 is always an exhausting day (written on 10/6/11).

10/15/11
That is all I was able to write on the 6th prior to passing out. I hate to leave a post unpublished. Thus, I will revisit this day if for nothing else but to recount the one and only severe mechanical hiccup we had.

We had just stopped in West Salem, WI for breakfast. The "Immediate Seating" sign indicated we would get in and out, but the only thing immediate about the restaurant was the seating.

This could perhaps be due to the very important meeting happening right next to us. The only thing I could name it would be the Southwestern Wisconsin Retirement club. Sally was home sick that day with strept. Al came late and ordered an egg sandwich. Joan was clearly the ringmaster. We learned they had a healthy budget and they would be funding members to go to an exciting conference in Wausau, WI. The meeting started and finished with perfect adherence to Robert's Rules of Order before we got our two omelets and Belgian waffle to split. We were biking.

As we biked away on the LaCrosse River trail, I pondered Robert's Rules of Order. Robert was one powerful guy. How many small town retirement organizations and big corporate boards are successfully meeting in an orderly fashion due to his rules? We do not thank him nearly enough. Though, I was pleading with my dad that we ought to be able to incorporate icebreakers into his rules. They are a bit dry as is.

And on we biked... thump... thump

"Hey Jess, why don't you get off and see what is stuck in my wheel," said my dad more as a statement than a question.

I obediently followed his direction only to find the thing to be the wheel itself. It appeared that our front tire had grown a tumor between West Salem and the two miles we had managed to bike. My dad immediately got on the phone to our on-call bike mechanic in Cincinnati. As he was explaining the problem, a leaking, whistling surrounded us. Before we could really make sense of it...

BAM!

The tire exploded, leaving a sad flap and a useless tire. Our Cincinnati adviser could not save us from this one. But Rose could.

Rose and her husband own Speedy's bike shop in Sparta, WI. My dad called them after our explosion and 30 minutes later Rose and her pickup truck met us at the picnic shelter in West Salem. Rose was tight-lipped, but plenty accomodating. My dad interviewed her about her childhood on a dairy farm, her three sons, the bike shop business and Sparta as we drove. Perhaps the most interesting nugget learned is that Sparta, WI is known to the locals as the Bicycle Capital of the World.

As we biked into Madison the next day through their extensive trail network, it was hard not to chuckle. Sparta did not have a single bike lane. They had one bike shop. Most people in town were not avid cyclists or commuters. They were deemed such a title due to their central location between the 100 miles of four connected bike trails going from Reedsburg, WI to Trumpelo, WI. These trails include the famous tunnels of the Sparta-Elroy trail pictured below.

I do not discount the beauty of those trails nor do I discount Sparta's central location. I just might scale back their claim to perhaps the Bicycle Capital of Southwest Wisconsin.