November 16, 2014 by Bruce Wynkoop
In 2009, Steve and I decided to ride Wisconsin again, this time picking GRABAAWR (Great Annual Bicycle Adventure Along the Wisconsin River). We chose it because Wisconsin is a beautiful state through which to ride, it had been four years since we had ridden a long ride in it, and the start of the ride was relatively close–just a 5-hour drive from the Twin Cities. It is put on by the same people who do SAGBRAW and the Bike Northwoods Tour, so they know what they’re doing. It was well-organized, the riders were taken care of well, and the maps, direction sheets, and road markings were good.
It seemed, however, to have been somewhat taken over by the people I call the “cyclemanics” who want to ride farther and farther. The daily rides were in the 80-mile range, there was one day of 90 miles (in torrid heat!), one day with an optional century ride, and one day with an optional climb of the ski mountain outside of Wausau. The century and climb were optional but all the riders had to do the 90-mile ride and the other 80-mile days. Of course, some riders love the distances and climbs and can’t get enough of them, but some of us want to be a bit more reasonable about the routes so we don’t get in so late or so tired. The ride started in northern Wisconsin in Hurley, a town that boasts the most bars per capita in the nation (and that’s really saying something, especially since it’s in Wisconsin, a state that truly loves its bars!) and ended in the southern town of Muscoda. Hurley put on a pretty good celebration the night before the start of the ride, including a street dance featuring a great local band (sorry, the name escapes me) with a great brass section. The band had a loyal following and we were told they are well-known in the region and considered the best band in the upper midwest (by whom was somewhat unclear). Steve and I concurred with that assessment—they were a great band.
There was a group of Canadians on this ride that was a pretty “wild and crazy” group. I won’t name the city from where they hailed but it rhymes with Sunder Day. They brought a small bus with them to use as their own sag wagon and they didn’t, as far as Steve and I could tell, pass a bar without stopping for a few. They often got into the overnight campground well after dark and well lubricated. They were a fun group (or so Steve, who spent some time with them, tells me—Steve’s more of a party-guy then I), but that much partying makes for some unsafe riding and can cause problems for the ride organizers. I’ve heard rumors that the group has been refused participation in future rides.
The first morning, after leaving Hurley, we rode past at least twelve miles of roadside ditches filled with beautiful, purple lupines, which added to the beauty of the northern Wisconsin woodland countryside.
We spent the rest of that day riding through woodlands and farmland, and spent the night in the small town of Lac du Flambeau.
On the third day, as we left Wausau, we hit the hills of central Wisconsin and the riding got somewhat harder and the scenery even more beautiful. We rode into the even hillier Dells Area the next day, crossed the Wisconsin River on a small ferry, and visited the Wollersheim Winery in Prairie du Sac, where I bought my obligatory case of wine (and had it shipped home).
I can’t resist small wineries and almost always buy a case of wine to be enjoyed during the following winter months.
On the last day, as we were heading for the finish at Muscoda, we had an incident that irked me a bit. As Steve and I had a long drive home from the finish, about ten miles from the finish line I called the number for the sag wagon and asked the ride director if we could catch a ride with one of the sags so we could get on our way a bit earlier. The director told me, “The sags aren’t a taxi service, we aren’t going to just pick you up!” And she wasn’t nice about it, she was pretty cranky. I sort of felt bad for even asking until, in the next five miles of riding we were passed three times by sag wagons towing empty bike trailers. Then, at the five-mile mark we passed a parking lot with the three sag wagons parked side-by-side and the drivers told us they had been told by the director to just stay there until she called them for something. When I mentioned how the director had handled my request for a ride they said, “Yeah, she can be like that.” I’ve never understood why one of those empty sags couldn’t have given us a lift so we could start for home a bit sooner, but as it happened it really didn’t matter—we got home just fine.
That minor incident aside, the ride was a good one, although somewhat tough, and showed us once again what a gorgeous state Wisconsin is.