Bucket List Entry: Biking the Hennepin Canal Day 3

I was debating on whether to finish the canal by going up along the feeder canal, but technically, it is part of the canal and boats could have gone up and down it. There just aren't any locks along the route, but it turns out, there doesn't need to be one. The engineering is this, the canal summits by lock 22. There needs to be a source of water to make sure the canal stays at a usable level. So, they dammed the Rock River and channeled the water down to the canal, 30 miles to the south. During operation, they would get a good water flow and the water would run clearly. Since they are letting the canal go back to nature, they don't channel much water down the feeder at all. Flow is barely perceptible. Still, it is 30 miles of canal. Might as well complete the task.

The day started out again at Lock 22, my favorite spot on the canal. It wasn't all that cold, but it was early. Tracy dropped me off and I started towards the feeder basin as the mist rolled off the water. I was on my way, hopefully along the easiest part of the canal. Tracy went off for coffee and supplies and would meet me later up the path. I started the five miles to the Green River Aqueduct, my first anticipated stop. Many years ago, I biked up that aqueduct with Hayden. There was a closer one to Lock 22 but the Green River promised a nicer view so we went north from the lock. Now I was doing this myself. 

One of the artifacts along the route are these occasional cement poles that were used for signalling or maybe just because there was a right of way. One of the things I found interesting, because I find strange things interesting, were that there was a fence line, more visible on the right photo, made of the same cement poles. I assumed that the same time the poles went up, the fenceline did also. It really was a beautiful morning and my new phone has a much better camera than my older one.

I reached the Green River without any problem. I wasn't even breathing hard, unlike the first time I took that trip. I now had 25 miles of harder trail to traverse, if what I had read was correct. There weren't any wash outs, but the trail wasn't paved for most of it, and it was even more sparsely populated than the rest of the canal. We had traveled here in our VW and it wasn't sounding all that great. I hoped it would last for the trip and the way home.

If you have been paying attention at all to me, you know how some things fascinate me, mostly infrastructure like bridges, power lines and canals. This high power line crossed the canal just a ways from the aqueduct. At another point of the canal there were signs on either side of the canal telling boaters to not anchor there as there was a gas line below the canal. I didn't take a picture of that because I did have a rhythm on my biking and I didn't want to break it. Just north of IL92 Tracy caught up with me and I pumped in some liquid and calories. I had eaten a few protein bars along the way and I was amazed at how my body reacted to them. I was energized for a time but I could tell when the quick calories were finished. My body quickly let me know that my blood sugar was diminished again. Still, it wasn't a hard ride, and I made good time.

I wanted to capture a stretch of the canal that was indicative of the path as a whole, perhaps to be a Facebook Cover Photo of mine. This was what I came up with. It was a very nice stretch right here. Tracy caught up with me north of IL 172 and I was off again for Rock River. She did stop to say "Hi" just south of town. There was a small turn out along a road there (as with every other road that crosses the canal) with two other cars with bike racks. Considering I had only met a guy illegally fishing and an older gent walking along a particularly isolated part, I hadn't met anyone else. Shortly after I said goodbye to her, I met two women biking south. I waited until they went around a dead log blocking the path. I'm always self-conscious about meeting women on these isolated parts, and I had met some. I don't want to be maced just for being a male, if you understand what I mean. I always think women will suspect the worst from me because of my gender.

I finally reached the end. This is the lock and intake for the feeder canal, along with a few of the building for maintenance of the entrance.

Some descriptive info from the end, or beginning, of the trail. I talked to some guy there at the end as I seemed to be always crossing his path while taking these shots. He told me that the city was trying to take ownership of their part of the canal because the state isn't taking care of the place. I am considering giving some $ to the Friends of the Canal.

OOne short bike across the river, and DONE!

Priestess

I've made no secret that I use this blog sometimes to give utterance to some of my more trying times of my life. This post is no different. It is something that I've held inside for some time. I've been ashamed of it really. I was ashamed of it the day after it happened but the shame has deepened as time has gone on. Best to get this out of the way right here and now.

On my mission, in one of my areas, Brattleboro, VT, one of the worst places I can remember in my life, quite honestly, we had a somewhat unique situation. The branch met Sunday afternoons in the children's rooms of one of the Baptist Churches in town. I don't particularly find any shame in that as I grew up in a branch that, I believe, borrowed rooms from other faiths at one time. Anyway, there was some talk that the rent we were paying was probably their biggest source of income, and it may have been. I don't know. I did know we had more attending members. In any case, I wanted to go to the Baptist's service at least once. The pastor there was a woman and I never had heard a woman preach before. I mean, a woman having any kind of authority in a congregation. I've heard plenty of talks given by women but not from one that led a congregation. That just doesn't happen in Mormonism.

We went to the service and stayed to the back. We didn't want to be disrespectful and we wanted to keep a low profile. Some of what they did there was quite different than the LDS services I grew up with and was familiar with and it made me somewhat uncomfortable. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't afraid nor too judgemental of most of it at the time, as mormons do some freaky things themselves. It was just the unfamiliarity, the difference that was so pronounced to me.

The preacher, as I don't recall her title, came out in a white robe with a red sash, or whatever. Vestments. Let's just call them vestments. Again, aside from the temple, this was far outside my experience. I can't say that I liked it all that much, and I never had seen a woman wear them. That just hightened my distaste for the tradition. Tradition is a key word here, I think. She gave a nice talk. It wasn't all that polished but didn't have any of the hesitation that I'm used to in LDS services. Most LDS services just have members give talks so anyone doing this professionally was different. Actually, I think the word Preistcraft, that horrible sin, is what entered my mind. I did know that she preached in several churches during the day. Her talk was on a book called "The Color Purple". Yeah, Oprah made a movie of it. That floored me. She preached from "The Color Purple?" That was the height of ridiculousness. I just couldn't wrap my head around it.

After the service, she met us at the door and asked us if we enjoyed the service. We politely answered yes and made other small talk. We then had to turn around in the parking lot, enter the back door and go to our branch's service held with in the kids' room. That did kind of hurt our pride a bit, but we were right, dang it. We belonged to the true church, not that imitation one that we just witnessed.

During that evening my companion and I spoke about what we experienced. I probably wasn't too kind.

Then the next day hit. I had thought about it all during the night. She was a very nice woman and I had no doubt that some found some guildance in her sermon. I shouldn't have thought so little of her, after all, we believed in the same God. I never uttered another thing about her and the service. I was ashamed of how I felt during their service, as I had in a few other church meetings I attended with friends.

It wasn't until later that I studied my own religious life that I came to understand the experience more. I didn't feel "The Spirit" while attending that service. "The Spirit" has a proper name, called "Elevation". It is quite common. Every religion has some demonstration of it. I didn't feel it because all this was new and out of my comfort zone. Others there did. Evidently, she did when she read "The Color Purple" just as I did when I read my scriptures, or read Dune, or read a David Weber book, or when I listened to "For Those About To Rock" by ACDC (Every single freaking time). You see, much later in my life I made note of when I felt it. I learned to realize that it wasn't "The Spirit" necessarily but particular things that brought me special insight or joy.  She felt it reading her book, and she found insight. It was insensitive, and if nothing else, immature and disrespectful, of me to think anything other than happiness that she found it enjoyable. It was enjoyable enough that she wanted to share it.

That's it. That's all I wanted to say. I'm glad, so glad, that I now see life differently than I did back then, and while I don't know if I will ever say this to her face, I can say here and now that I'm sorry for my poor attitude back then. I've learned from it. I learned a great deal from it. And now "The Color Purple" has meaning for me too.

Bucket List Entry: Biking the Hennepin Canal Day 2

Day 2 started pretty much like Day 1. Hayden was in a bad mood, everyone was sleepy and grouchy. Consider that day 2 is several weeks after day 1. We had taken a trip up north to visit my parents. Now the path is a little easier in that they mowed the grass. On day 1, the path had become difficult to traverse because the weeds were higher than the bike and were obscuring the path. At least, it didn't appear that it would be a problem on this day. The day started where we completed the first day, at milepost 31. Hayden quickly shot down the path, the newly mowed path, that is.

Aqueduct over King's Creek

So, as is our habit, we once again met at the next road. I switched and took the lead, and we shortly passed over King's Creek. So, we once again met up at the next Lock.

Lock 22

Lock 22 holds a special place in my interaction with the entire canal. This was the first place I biked with Hayden several years ago. We went from here up to the aqueduct that went over the Green River. I contemplated camping here more than once, until the mosquito population convinced me otherwise. Here Hayden passed me up again and shot by lock. He didn't want to wait for me to take these pictures. Unfortunately, he also didn't know that we needed to cross the road and traverse the canal to the East.

Shortly after going by lock 22, the path splits with one branch going up to the north along the feeder canal (because it feeds the main lock with water from the Rock River) and the other continuing east to Bureau Junction. Hayden stayed on the north path and I wanted to go along the east. He was so ticked off, it seems, to be transported to central Illinois at an early hour that he didn't wait to see if there was a plan. So I waited at the confluence. If we stayed to pattern, he'd stop at the crossroads and eventually come back. Well, I waited long enough. I eventually called Tracy as I really wasn't sure where he went, and I knew the next road to the north was a ways up there. Tracy was upset, to say the least.

The Feeder Basin

Eventually, he did come back. Since I'm not one to yell at my kids, I chose a disapproving glance, knowing that Tracy would probably put more fear of god in him than I could. And she did, and I took some of that anger too. It's just the way it is sometimes.

Hennepin Canal State Park (I-80 bridge in background)

The path to the State Park was quiet and uneventful. I think it was the first time I saw fishermen actually in boats. The I-80 bridge was under construction and we had to get off our bikes to make it past the rough stone path. Hayden had to be dramatic and lift his bike over the mess. Then we crossed the bridge (one of the standard bridges over the canal that didn't make it to modern traffic) into the park. Hayden was always fading behind me as we went passed the visitors center and past the park boundaries again. I waited for him at the next road, and he let me see his bike. His front time is flat and even calling Tracy wouldn't help as I didn't bring a spare tube. Dang it.

Unknown Park. Hayden's day is done.

So, I'm left to my own devices. Tracy picked up Hayden and I continue on.

Lock 21

The locks happen pretty fast and furious now, on the way to the Illinois River.

Lock 20
There's a picnic table in the lock. I think it shows up in the satellite pic too. I must restate that the trail isn't maintained very well. Lots of things that, say, a people like the Swiss would be aghast at.

Lock 19 wasn't easy for me to get to on this side, and I was going for speed. I had to climb an embankment to get this shot. There is a park on the other side of the canal and as you can see from the satellite pic, there is a trail bridge just a bit further east. I had to check google to see if I needed to cross the bridge further on. The trail got a bit sandy after this and it was harder to ride.

Lock 18

Some points along the way. First the Aqueduct across West Bureau Creek, the Path, an old building, probably a lock master's house, and the mile marker for Lock 17.

Lock 17. The last shot looks down towards lock 16. The locks in this section are all within sight of the others.

Lock 16. This also marks mile 14 or a bit more than halfway. This lock still had gates.

Lock 15 and Lock 14. At Lock 15, you can see a little bit of the spillway output. Last time I was here the water was coming out like a jet, making a racket.

Lock 13. I was starting to run down at this point. I was getting hungry.

Lock 12 was butted up against a washed out aqueduct, as many of the river crossings were. I think maintaining the aqueduct was too expensive so they just tore it down. They piped enough water over from the canal so there would be some waterflow downstream, but not much.

Lock 11 was nice. The area was well maintained and it looked fairly new. I remember texting Tracy that I was passing under a nicer, bigger road and it was by lock 11. That didn't help her much. Shortly, she intercepted me and I wolfed down some poptarts and water. I was pretty beat by that time, as the trail was softer gravel and hard to bike. Where there was pavement, the weeds were thick and only a narrow path existed.

Lock 10.

Lock 9.

At some points along the route there were these cement poles. Many of them were damaged but I thought this was a good portrayal of what the majority of the path was like.

Lock 8.

I had to take this shot at max zoom. There were a lot of turtles along the way, but most of the time, all I heard was a splash. This time, I got one before he slipped under the water.

Lock 7.

Lock 6 and Lock 5.If you look at the satellite shots, the canal is fairly piecemeal in this area. I'm not sure why and I think there isn't much point in keeping water flowing, but they do. Somewhere along here they also shut down the trail again with a small "Trail Closed" marker. There was some construction on a berm and a washout but it wasn't very severe. They really need to close the trail at some other point than in the middle of nowhere. Plus, they'll just be ignored anyway.

Lock 4. In the background you can see I-180 overpass the canal. It was an important landmark as Tracy knew it was just a few miles from the end. I texted her "180". It was when I was musing about that afterwards that being an engineer, that might have meant that I turned around. Lock 4 was another point where the aqueduct was destroyed and a bridge with a water pipe underneath kept the lock filled.

Lock 3. I know this lock well. It also is the end of the "closed" portion of the canal, hence the "danger" sign. It also sits on a road that I usually travel on when I go downstate. (I put my bike in the ditch my last time through). 2 miles left.

Lock 2. End of the main canal, or the beginning, however you want to look at it. It is swamp beyond this point and Lock 1 can be reached by foot if you want, but there isn't a trail. I was tired. The last mile was overgrown with weeds. I put the bike on the rack (You can see our van in the shade of the tree at the extreme right) and announced that I was done. I didn't need to do the feeder canal. I did though, and that will be Part 3. This is situated in a little town called Bureau Junction. It is an odd little place. I don't have anything to say other than that.

This took a bit longer than usual to put this together. Much was done without the benefit of a mouse, and Google was changing the way their photos were posted. I wish this blog had a quick way of putting a table in the html other than brute force.