Now You Can Do What Trump Won't In The Badger State

Right now, Wisconsin is in the news for mainly for the violence in Kenosha, and the possibilty of the President inflaming tensions with his scheduled visit. 

I have never been to Wisconsin, so I know nothing about the state, or Kenosha, but what I've seen and heard in the meidia. (It's a Rust Belt city with widening gaps between rich and poor, black and white, etc.)  If I were to visit the Badger State, I imagine that I would want to go to Kenosha because the events there will be an important part of this country's history.  But, I'm sure there is more that I'd want to see.

One thing I'd want to do is cycle from Lake Michigan to the Mississippi River.  Now it's possible to do just that on a cross-state bicycle route just approved by the American Association of State Highway and Transportation Officials. 

Like other long bicycle routes (like the East Coast Greenway), the US Bicycle Route 30 was created by linking existing state and county bike trails, local roads and bike paths and state and county highways.  In the middle of the state, there is a spur--US Bicycle Route 230--for use when the Merrimac Ferry, which crosses the Wisconsin River, is not available.

Creating good bicycle routes is a laborious feat.  Is it any more difficult than getting the Cheeto In Chief to ride on them?  

The Hole At The End Of The Day

Late today, I took Negrosa, my black Mercian Olympic, on a no-planned-destination ride.

After zigzagging through some industrial areas and blocks of brick rowhouses, I descended the long hill from Ridgewood, Queens to Cypress Hills, Brooklyn.  After some more zigging and zagging along and around the Brooklyn-Queens border, I found myself in a place I hadn't visited in a while.

"The Hole," which I've mentioned in earlier posts, is an alternative universe between Brooklyn and Queens, near the South Shore of both boroughs.  The land--and incongruously-named  streets (Ruby, Sapphire, Amber)--drop suddenly behind a shopping center and a row of doctors office-type buildings on Linden Boulevard.  Not much seems to have changed since the last time I visited:

My guess is that those who live and work--legitimately or not--in the area want to keep it that way. Why else would they stay in a place that practically forces them to live and work like Okies or folks in rural Appalachia before World War II?  I mean, it's still not hooked up to the city's sewer systems and some aren't even on the electrical grid.  Oh, and I can't think of any place else in this city where a yard can fill with junked cars or school buses without attracting the attention of the Health Department.

A couple of guys, who were working on a truck, noticed me and nodded.  As obvious an outsider as I am, I guess they didn't see me as a threat.

I am a cyclist, after all.

What's Slowing You Down?

Other languages have wonderful expressions that don't quite translate into English, but are vivid nonetheless.

One, from French, is pedaler dans la choucroute.  

Pedaling through sauerkraut?  Avec ou sans la moutarde?