By two wheels and ferry
BICYCLING
BY KIERSTIN KLOECKNER
If at first the idea is not absurd, then there is no hope for it.
– Albert Einstein
Kierstin Kloeckner: “Let’s bike to Grand Rapids, Michigan, to explore the breweries.”
My friend: “Okay. How far is it if we take the ferry?”
KK: “It’s 145 miles each way. Maybe we bike to Milwaukee the first day and do the rest the second?”
My
friend: “Or, how about leaving really early and doing it all in one day?”
KK: “Umm (a 10-second pause) … okay!”
Back in February, this seemed like a grand plan. After all, the trip was seven months away – plenty of time to train.
Besides, I’d be coming off of a spring and summer of long gravel rides. 145 miles would feel like a cakewalk by then. The idea of heading out for four days of adventures sans car appealed to us – along with the 30-plus breweries in the Grand Rapids area.
Within a day, our ferry tickets and Airbnb were booked. We could forget about the long days in the saddle for months.
Thursday, Aug. 22nd, it’s 3 a.m. and I hear my alarm clock going off. I turn off the alarm and try to rouse myself for the day ahead.
I must consume coffee, find the chamois cream and apply lots of it.
We had packed our bikes the night before and had all intensive purposes of getting to bed early. It was a great idea which fell terribly short.
On about three hours of sleep, we rode from Madison to Milwaukee to catch the Lake Express High-Speed Ferry to take us over Lake Michigan to Muskegon, Michigan.
With all big rides that have time requirements, there’s always a little concern.
When my friend finally put the brakes on ripping my legs off for the first 30 miles, knowing we were ahead of schedule, I let out a large sigh of relief.
We had planned it quite well: Keep a steady 16-mph pace on our loaded steeds, take three, 10-minute stops for the first 100 miles and then kick back on the ferry before our final push.
Thankfully, despite a headwind, we managed to roll into Milwaukee early enough to grab our first beer and a little lunch, even though it was only 11 a.m.
This was both of our first times on the ferry.
As we rolled our bikes onto the boat and tied them down prior to anyone else boarding, we felt a bit like royalty.
The staff on the ferry most certainly knows how to work this, and I am quite aware they see swarms of cyclists traveling to avoid biking through Chicago or around the entire lake.
Since the company is bike-friendly (they have collected used bikes in exchange for a free ferry ticket the past eight years and have donated over 7,000 bikes to the 16th Street Community Health Center and the Milwaukee Bicycle Collective), it was a no-brainer to support them.
Our 2.5-hour crossing was easy despite the high winds and rough water.
Although we would have loved to spend more time on the deck, the strong wind forcing us to white-knuckle grip the railings, told us it was best to hang out inside.
The following 60 hours in Michigan would fly by at a rate I haven’t experienced in ages.
One minute we were disembarking the ferry, and it felt like in a blink of an eye we were reboarding.
Sure, our legs were tired, and the Musketawa Trail guiding us from Muskegon to Grand Rapids was a brutal, slight incline almost the entire way, but we had beer and good food to look forward to, as well as a great place to stay in the South Hills neighborhood.
In
fact, despite our very sore undercarriages and sleep-deprived bodies, our first
stop once in town was Founders Brewing for beer and a snack – not a bad way to
cap off a very long ride.
Day two had us doing a short ride due to saddle sore – a bit over 20 miles, but
those 20 miles were quite fantastic.
We explored the expansive Fred Meijer Millenium Park Trail system and hit Two Guys Brewing.
We were so impressed by their dedication to supporting the community, we followed it up with a stop at Mitten Brewing for a vegan pizza along with more delicious liquid carbs.
Not only do they have amazing pizza but almost every one of them can be made plant-based since the owner, Chris, is vegan himself.
A slow roll home, laughing at our food babies, brought us over the famed, blue bridge and back to the south side.
Slow travel now rivals the fly-to-Barcelona-for-lunch culture. Advocates savor the journey, traveling by train or boat or bicycle, or even on foot, rather than crammed into an airplane. They take time to plug into the local culture instead of racing through a list of tourist traps.
– Carl Honore
Day three was by foot, hoping to work different muscles prior to our long haul back early the next morning.
Miles of exploring brought us through the historic district chocked full of Frank Lloyd Wright homes, East Hills and Eastown.
We got to talk with people who have lived there for ages and have watched Grand Rapids change.
This is one of my favorite reasons I travel by bike or foot – there is no way I would get to know the people in a community by driving through it.
We wandered somewhat aimlessly, making stops at Outside Coffee, Brewery Vivant, Elk Brewing and Brick Road Pizza for some of the best vegan sandwiches I’ve ever had.
We lingered at each place, knowing once we went back to our rental, we would have to pack up for the next morning – a thought which was utterly painful for us.
The next morning, 5 a.m. came far too early.
We were quiet and methodical preparing for our ride back to Madison.
The miles flew by on the Musketawa Trail since we had a slight decline and our legs were fresh.
While waiting for the ferry, we joined a large group of cyclists who had ridden north from Milwaukee to catch the Badger Ferry in Manitowoc to cross to Ludington, Michigan, then rode down to Muskegon and were now heading back to Milwaukee.
Future trips started dancing through my head.
The final push back home went by without a hitch.
Like at the end of most adventures, I felt quite sad pulling into Madison.
Thankfully, one final beer stop greeted us.
As we pulled out of Working Draft Brewing, a light rain began to fall – our first during the whole trip.
I laughed thinking, “Damn, were we lucky!”
As we rolled into the driveway, this quote from Winnie the Pooh came to mind: “Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there someday.”