 Vessel position on the upper MR, here 579.5m north from the confluence of the Ohio river  A fish fly, mortally impacted by its fatal fetish for light.  #12 lock Bellevue, 1 is the most northern lock. |
 Earlier times, a semi semi  Bellevue, river to the right, looking upstream  Bellevue looking downstream |
Dubuque to Bellevue, IA 58km, 4hrs, Av 14.19km/hr, Total 2691
Bloody hot, high humidity and hills as long as a day without bread. ( Av. speed tells all)
Arising early to the barking of a thousand greyhounds, there was a compound where owners had dozens in big cages, all were muzzled. On the way to the ablution block I peered through the fence, an owner came past and said they are happy campers, I made no comment and moved on to sit and peruse a map for five.
Back at camp I packed up and headed into Dubuque to take in the city sights. A farmers market was in progress. Great stuff, I bought a big juicy tomato and ate it then and there. Haven’t had one like this for a while, the seeds were suspended in jiuce encapsulated by a thin skin and sweet, the milk of the mother.
I enquired as to a good cafe and ate the usual while tapping away. The waitress was obliging when during conversation I asked her what her favorite songs were. She was maybe 28, attractive with several piercings, her taste did not bely her age, she was a Bob Marley fan and also enjoyed The Grateful Dead, good stuff.
Moving on I came across a truck weigh bridge, an opportunity had arisen to get a gross weight of my entourage. The woman said it was $9.50, adding that it probably wont register, have a go!. 300lbs she called from the counter across the intercom. Back in the shop she said its cool, it’s on us.My next move was to find out what yours truly contributed to this mass. Finding scales for myself was a different matter, eventually I found a pharmacy that had some bathroom scales in a box out the back. Maybe people work on the theory, that what you dont know doesn’t hurt you.
160lbs, trusting the reading I figured I had lost 7lbs. So in reality muscles associated with my legs were moving 300lbs about. My core strength needed sorting big time, all that strength culminating at my lower back, to that accord I am now doing 50 sit ups in the nest prior to leaving the tent on arising. Most mornings anyway!
Footpaths in Dubuque immediately below street lights were thick with dead and dying damsel like flies, thousands of them. Enquiry revealed them to be fish flies ,they live for 24hrs and also settle on the river not perforating the meniscous, fish love them and it becomes hard to catch them during a hatch as they rise to feed on these insects.
The National Mississippi Museum and Aquarium is located here so a visit was planned. It was well worth it, with many unanswered events and sights now better understood.
Importantly all vessel position on the river is miles north of the Ohio river confluence or south of that from a point north in New Orleans. The Museum is 579.5 miles north of the Ohio River.
The aquarium put in perspective, the variety and number of fish, turtles, snakes and molluscs that call the river home. I spent a couple of hours here.
The weather forecast was for severe heat till Friday by severe, I mean 35+ with over night lows of 27. These temps combined with cycling and hills produced an undesirable sum.
I left Dubuque via the freeway, it was hot, this coupled with the radiated heat, vehicle noise and fumes made the word hot a gross understatement, it was painful. Incidently the most common object seen roadside has been broken tie down straps and occy straps, I retrieved one in good nick on this freeway. Anything for a stop.
Leaving the freeway I got back on the great river road, only to be confronted by a seemingly endless climb, stopping I podded up, chose some appropriate music and headed on. My handle bar towel was by now getting quite damp. A couple of similar climbs later I stopped at a servo. Upon entering the girl gave me a big cup of iced water. I reckon I must have really looked like a retiree with bugger all to do .She was great, a farmer walked in. They were friends anyway it took him sometime to warm to me. Peak hat on, bib denim overalls and a classic accent he finally started yakking instead of listening. We talked about the local scene, a $2 note that was taken out of circulation after the war, the girl had one in her wallet (still occassionally seen in circulation). The farmer said I was brave riding this trip. I said not as brave as you having done time in Veitnam. He left saying safe travels and that he enjoyed talking.
Back on the road I was getting into a state experienced in the latter stages of long distance events ,I was becoming mechanical and oblivious of my surroundings.
Arriving in Bellevue I needed food and pulled into a diner and ate half a chook, my choice and the chicken was good, the locals travel miles to eat here.
At about 2030hrs I headed to the Pleasant Creek camp area, a state park. The area was unreal ,very rustic right on the river with a swimming beach.
Arriving there I reflected on the day. I had been in the US 1 month and ridden nearly 3000km. I was feeling flat, buggered and slightly indifferent. I knew these were signs to back off, slow down and regroup. Then and there I decided to stay here. More importantly to stay off the bike for a couple of days. Thinking back at Lansing even on a day off I rode 70km to visit the Amish.
I pitched the tent, spent an hour on the beach with some young locals fishing, knowing a sleep in was on the cards. It was calm, relatively insect free as the river rolled on in her silent way again after her rowdy passage through lock #12, 3 miles upstream at Bellevue. Barges with tows were passing by. The people here knew and loved this river, one of the guys who was at least 17 said he had not seen the sea. He knew his river though, and he knew her well. It was another magic upper Mississippi evening, shared with interesting and happy people.
Bloody hot, high humidity and hills as long as a day without bread. ( Av. speed tells all)
Arising early to the barking of a thousand greyhounds, there was a compound where owners had dozens in big cages, all were muzzled. On the way to the ablution block I peered through the fence, an owner came past and said they are happy campers, I made no comment and moved on to sit and peruse a map for five.
Back at camp I packed up and headed into Dubuque to take in the city sights. A farmers market was in progress. Great stuff, I bought a big juicy tomato and ate it then and there. Haven’t had one like this for a while, the seeds were suspended in jiuce encapsulated by a thin skin and sweet, the milk of the mother.
I enquired as to a good cafe and ate the usual while tapping away. The waitress was obliging when during conversation I asked her what her favorite songs were. She was maybe 28, attractive with several piercings, her taste did not bely her age, she was a Bob Marley fan and also enjoyed The Grateful Dead, good stuff.
Moving on I came across a truck weigh bridge, an opportunity had arisen to get a gross weight of my entourage. The woman said it was $9.50, adding that it probably wont register, have a go!. 300lbs she called from the counter across the intercom. Back in the shop she said its cool, it’s on us.My next move was to find out what yours truly contributed to this mass. Finding scales for myself was a different matter, eventually I found a pharmacy that had some bathroom scales in a box out the back. Maybe people work on the theory, that what you dont know doesn’t hurt you.
160lbs, trusting the reading I figured I had lost 7lbs. So in reality muscles associated with my legs were moving 300lbs about. My core strength needed sorting big time, all that strength culminating at my lower back, to that accord I am now doing 50 sit ups in the nest prior to leaving the tent on arising. Most mornings anyway!
Footpaths in Dubuque immediately below street lights were thick with dead and dying damsel like flies, thousands of them. Enquiry revealed them to be fish flies ,they live for 24hrs and also settle on the river not perforating the meniscous, fish love them and it becomes hard to catch them during a hatch as they rise to feed on these insects.
The National Mississippi Museum and Aquarium is located here so a visit was planned. It was well worth it, with many unanswered events and sights now better understood.
Importantly all vessel position on the river is miles north of the Ohio river confluence or south of that from a point north in New Orleans. The Museum is 579.5 miles north of the Ohio River.
The aquarium put in perspective, the variety and number of fish, turtles, snakes and molluscs that call the river home. I spent a couple of hours here.
The weather forecast was for severe heat till Friday by severe, I mean 35+ with over night lows of 27. These temps combined with cycling and hills produced an undesirable sum.
I left Dubuque via the freeway, it was hot, this coupled with the radiated heat, vehicle noise and fumes made the word hot a gross understatement, it was painful. Incidently the most common object seen roadside has been broken tie down straps and occy straps, I retrieved one in good nick on this freeway. Anything for a stop.
Leaving the freeway I got back on the great river road, only to be confronted by a seemingly endless climb, stopping I podded up, chose some appropriate music and headed on. My handle bar towel was by now getting quite damp. A couple of similar climbs later I stopped at a servo. Upon entering the girl gave me a big cup of iced water. I reckon I must have really looked like a retiree with bugger all to do .She was great, a farmer walked in. They were friends anyway it took him sometime to warm to me. Peak hat on, bib denim overalls and a classic accent he finally started yakking instead of listening. We talked about the local scene, a $2 note that was taken out of circulation after the war, the girl had one in her wallet (still occassionally seen in circulation). The farmer said I was brave riding this trip. I said not as brave as you having done time in Veitnam. He left saying safe travels and that he enjoyed talking.
Back on the road I was getting into a state experienced in the latter stages of long distance events ,I was becoming mechanical and oblivious of my surroundings.
Arriving in Bellevue I needed food and pulled into a diner and ate half a chook, my choice and the chicken was good, the locals travel miles to eat here.
At about 2030hrs I headed to the Pleasant Creek camp area, a state park. The area was unreal ,very rustic right on the river with a swimming beach.
Arriving there I reflected on the day. I had been in the US 1 month and ridden nearly 3000km. I was feeling flat, buggered and slightly indifferent. I knew these were signs to back off, slow down and regroup. Then and there I decided to stay here. More importantly to stay off the bike for a couple of days. Thinking back at Lansing even on a day off I rode 70km to visit the Amish.
I pitched the tent, spent an hour on the beach with some young locals fishing, knowing a sleep in was on the cards. It was calm, relatively insect free as the river rolled on in her silent way again after her rowdy passage through lock #12, 3 miles upstream at Bellevue. Barges with tows were passing by. The people here knew and loved this river, one of the guys who was at least 17 said he had not seen the sea. He knew his river though, and he knew her well. It was another magic upper Mississippi evening, shared with interesting and happy people.
