Sunday on the Great River Road was a windswept success, made possible by the kindness of strangers. We shared a safe harbor with a half dozen bikers during a gale-force storm.
This day’s 63-plus miles were pedaled with greater ease and heightened precariousness as we rode the wave of a storm front. The morning was marked by speeding along at 25-mph on a tailwind-fueled roll through Wisconsin riverside. Black clouds pressed from behind as clear skies beckoned ahead. We were more than halfway through the day’s allotted mileage when we stopped for lunch in Ferryville and figured to be in fine shape.
Severe weather menaced us between Hobbs Hollow Road and Kettle Hollow Road — we could see it coming across the wide swatch of open river to our right, flying fast in the wake of a shelf cloud. We raced into Lynxville as sheets of sideways rain fast approached. But Mike and Kim offered shelter in the storm and we took them up on the offer adjacent to the Dawg House emporium.
They were possibly actual lifesavers. Apres moi, le deluge. We waited out the storm and pedaled on its aftermath of cool temps to maximum tandem proficiency, using our old friend Mo Mentum to get us through significant cumulative elevation gains that, individually, were rolled over with ease.
Get a taste in this installment of Tracer Bullitt.