So there I was- in “downtown” Greenbush, Minnesota, population 717, out of the saddle, walking around with my cell phone doodlebugging for a free WiFi signal. “Ridesperate” is what I call this particular state of being in which I often find myself these days; ridiculous and desperate- like those times when I’m racing the setting sun while bobbing in and out of the bushes looking for a concealed patch of dirt to set up camp for the night or catching a glimpse of that metallic blue wrapper on the side of the road and wondering if maybe it actually does contain a yummy, unblemished Rice Crispy treat- now that’s truly ridesperate.
It’s about 7:30 pm, the streets of Greenbush are deserted, and I’m moving deliberately in a serpentine search pattern with my gaze locked on my stupid smartphone like Mr. Spock divining dilithium deposits with a tricorder. You ever just get that feeling that you’re not alone? Sure enough, when I get my head out of my phone long enough, I realize there is a friendly looking guy with a bike standing nearby, patiently waiting to greet me.
A word about patience when bike touring, what the Universe has in store for you, and meeting people in general:
You meet a lot of people on the road. And, yes, you do have the same conversation a lot- basically, “where ya headed, where d’ya come from, etc?” Sometimes after a long day in the saddle you may find your patience running thin and it is all too easy to be a little dismissive when it comes to meeting people and making polite conversation. You must, I repeat “must,” not give in to that sort of laziness. The simple truth is that by choosing this mode of travel you are doing something kind of cool and folks are naturally going to be interested. The other thing is… you never know whom you are going to meet.
…back to Minnesota
So this was one of those long days, it was getting dark, I was tired and I had just spent hours earlier getting my chops busted by customs officers. It is times like these when one is thankful for taking their own advice and putting things in perspective enough to notice, “here’s a cool dude named Hans who wants to help you find the campsite a mile out of town and hook you up with a spare inner tube.” “Follow me,” says he, and off we go.
The first thing you notice about Hans is that he’s a big guy. The second thing you notice is that the man can ride a bike. As we’re heading to the campground I have to tap into my reserves just to stay on his rear wheel even though he’s riding a single-speed cruiser bike. I checked out the camp but in the end decided just to accept the hospitality of a couch at Hans’ place. I think the overriding factor was that I just needed to hang out with this guy and figure out why he’s such a badass in the saddle.
It all becomes clear…
Upon entering Hans’ home I immediately notice several bikes, some rideable, others in various stages of buildout / repair. Now I get it. Not only is he a bike guy- he’s pretty much the bike guy of this neck of Minnesota. Had some dinner, talked a bit, and it was only then that I learned that Hans is a former international road racer (ok, now I understand how he rides so darn fast). I guess it was only after I proved myself worthy that he showed me his most prized bicycle, an all wooden frame, custom built Renovo, one of only two of its kind on the planet.
The Renovo
I ended up staying another day in Greenbush and also had the honor of meeting Hans’ son on the second evening. He and I have stayed in contact over my ride and it was through his cycling world connections that angels came to my rescue in Idaho. I look foward to our lasting association and wish him all the best on his upcoming cycle tour from the southern tip of South America to Colombia.
Parting comment:
When I arrived in Greenbush I hadn’t shaved since Thunder Bay and my last haircut had been in the month of May. At this point had already arranged to stay in North Dakota with my next host, Stephanie. Having a weird bicycle guy sleeping on your couch can be scary enough at times so out of respect for my future host I thought it better that I look more human than mini-sasquatch. Hans consented to breaking out the clippers and doing his best to shear the mop off my head and make me look somewhat presentable. It wasn’t until later that I would realize what hidden talent he possessed as a hair stylist.
All aboard… Next stop… Bottineau, North Dakota … and the beauty of the prairies I had never known.
Heading west in North Dakota
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“Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”
You are so fortunate to be meeting such kindred spirits. Give your new friend who is doing the bicycle tour from tip of South America to Columbia my son Cody’s email. Cody is in Columbia now, I am not sure how long he will be there but I am sure he would be a great host to your friend if he is there. steven.cody.reynolds@gmail.com
love, Gay