In the small hours of the morning we woke to the sound of our dreams shattering on the sharp point of reality.
No wait, that was thunder. Thunder? Crap, that means rain and lightning. A quick check of the neenernet revealed the plan: Meet for breakfast at Smokey Row and decide what to do.
Once at Smokey Row we looking at weather patterns and decided to delay our departure several hours, letting the ominous red weather patterns move northeast. Our planned escape from the banality of daily life was to ride down Hwy 61, hit Hwy 33 to Mauston, then aim straight for Fon Du Lac. This route, with a little delay, would put us behind the storm until Mauston, where we would enter its trailing edge then hopefully pierce the front and enter glorious sunshine. Or at least somewhat dry weather.
This would also give Neal a chance to re-start his leg from Minneapolis ... he too saw the precipitation of the universal solvent and adjusted his plans. Considering that he is piloting a fairing-less Ducati 749, we deemed that a wise decision.
After finishing our excellent breakfast paninis, burritos, bottomless cups of coffee and stashing a chocolate oatmeal bar (corner piece - Thanks Eliza!) for later, we resolved to meet at Bill's house in an hour and resume the Walt Ride.
Which we did. The sun was out, Neal arrived, it was 80F and stiflingly humid. So we rode down hwy 61, took an ice cream and restroom break in Winona, went through La Crescent to highway 33. We had decided to most slab it to Fon Du Lac to make good time, but with a little fun along the way. Hwy 33 was that 'fun'. Rather than bore ourselves on I-90, Hwy 33 is a good alternative. With mostly mellow curves int he driftless region of Wisconsin, it added 30 minutes to our trip but much more interesting scenery and riding.
Dark clouds threatened; Amish buggies loomed; lunch was served at Badger Crossing in Cashton.
Wildcat Mountain State Park provided some of the twistiest roads of the day but the surface was moist so we didn't push it. This road was paved a couple years ago, but it is now showing signs of wear. The worst part was they ha resealed it - so the tar snakes were the same color as the asphalt. The rear tire of my FJR slid several times.
And then the skies opened up. We were piercing the storm front, and it was wet. Very wet. Neal stopped to don rain gear and we rode on, with limited visibility and reduced speeds. At least the temperature stayed in the upper 70's, so those who got wet weren't chilled. Thanks to my Aerostich Roadcrafter, I stayed entirely dry. My boots kept my feet dry, but I did not wear waterproof gloves and thus my hands and digits were soaked. That's ok ... it was warm, and deerskin dries quickly. The FJR's significant weather protection helped too.
The rest of the crew didn't stay as dry. Jenn's upper body was dry, but hands, feet and legs were soaked as she was not wearing anything waterproof on those parts. At the next gas stop she drained the water out of her combat boots and threw her slimey insoles at me .. blech .. Neal's rainsuit kept him somewhat dry except where the jacket and pants joined; Bills Roadcrafter leaked at his crotch. Tim's Darien and pants served him well with minimum leakage (and no fairing on his BMW at all); Rob's 2-pc Roadcrafter let some moisture in too, but he was also on a minimally-faired Kawasaki.
Through the rain with spirits undamaged we got to enjoy Olden Road before arriving at Mark. There to greet us were two cases of New Glarus beer along with Mark, his wife and son. They had returned from Machu Pichu mere hours before - rest assured they had better photos from their trip to Peru than we did from our trip across 'sconny ... ;-)
Tomorrow we go to the races .. and that's for another post!
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