Two years ago, Roger and I wound up at Manitowoc on the western shore of Lake Michigan and took the SS Badger across to the Wolverine State and the Eastern time zone. This time, Rachael and I would reach our northeast terminus here before rolling down the lakeshore back toward Milwaukee. But the ride from Appleton to Manitowoc would be our longest and most “hilly” to date so our late departure out of the Paper Valley on a cool, drizzly afternoon necessitated some focused riding. Happily, with the occasional good wind and some rerouting onto empty roads, we had another splendid day.

Once past Appleton, one of our first sightings was a cruel architectural abomination that rivaled the anticlerical destruction of the French Revolution:

Though this picture doesn’t do it justice, for aficionados of Wisconsin supper clubs, here is one of the icons – Van Abel’s of Hollandtown, evidently around since 1848 (in some guise):

We never found out what this is but it was impressive from a bike perspective:

While I stopped to take some more farm pictures:


Rachael crushed the hills (see if you can spot her in the distance):

Hilltop Road was a fun ride with as much in the way of “rollies” as we would encounter. By late afternoon, we reached downtown Manitowoc and some familiar sights.



Manitowoc used to be an important port town, and with the onset of WWII, it had a bit of a heyday building submarines and other watercraft for the war. The loss of the Mirro Aluminum Company a decade ago or so (I took a bunch of pictures of the old plant two years ago) knocked the town back a bit but there are some signs of recovery. The old theater has been recently restored:


and has become a focal point for the town’s cultural life. Local Hmong farmers bring their produce to market a couple of times a week, and the Courthouse Pub remains Manitowoc’s see and be seen watering hole. But it was The Fat Seagull where we ran into “poor mad Tom,” who deserves a post of his own.

The threat of rain is a strong motivator – so much so that Rachael agreed to setting an alarm for 6:15 so we could get from Ripon to Appleton before the forecasted storm. Braving once again the smothered comfort smell of the motel waffler, we broke our fast in silence on the biker’s delight – toasted English muffin with peanut butter and a cold, dense, boiled egg. And then we were away in the early dawn; ha ha, just kidding we didn’t actually get all organized and leave until about 7:30 but with the rain not projected until 1 pm and about a five-hour ride ahead of us we were in good shape.

Just outside of Ripon, we passed the Wisconsin winery that had been recommended to us by a guy who doesn’t drink, which makes a kind of sense given the likely quality of the stuff.

Once again out in the countryside, we encountered odd reminders of a less-settled time. Evidently bureaucracies are not the only organizations that outlive their original purpose.

This sign reminded me of some of the towns Roger and I rode through in Montana:

Even (or especially) on a cloudy day, the lakes have an appealing calmness:

The road not taken; bike trails outside urban areas are not suitable for road bikes, to Rachael’s relief!

And so after another day’s delightful ride alongside corn fields and dairy farms, we came to the outskirts of Appleton where we found out where the milk trucks had been heading.

At some 72,000 people, Appleton is the biggest city we would travel through (aside from Milwaukee of course). By the time we got there, the promise of rain had receded into the evening so we thought we would have a good bit of time to wander about. The local museum has an exhibit on Harry Houdini, who lived in Appleton for a few years. Sitting astride the Fox River (north of Lake Winnebago), the city’s early development was propelled by the paper-making industry and the use of hydroelectric power. Evidently, there are some impressive mansions and house museums, but owing to bad luck and poor timing, we saw very little of Appleton.

First off, the hotel’s computer system was down and the clerks declined to check us in manually – even though several hours later that is what they were forced to do. So we spent the afternoon in our colorful bike attire, which mightn’t have been so bad if there was somewhere to go – we were in Appleton on a Monday and the museum was closed. To make matters worse, the town’s annual music festival – the Mile of Music with dozens of venues and scores of bands – had just ended and there wasn’t to be much nightlife that evening.

But one of the mottos of biking is that “you can’t do everything.” We ended up with some good Mexican food, finally got into our room and got cleaned up and ended the evening at a local brew pub where the manager gave us a ride home as the bar closed and the rains finally came. The next day, as it was still rainy and cool, we did manage to get to the museum before we left town around noon. While there is some interesting material on Appleton and the paper-making process, the Houdini exhibit is not worth one’s time unfortunately. Though not exactly airbrushed out of history, a once-prominently displayed bust of a certain infamous Wisconsin senator now resides in the museum basement: