Day 33. Star Lake, WI to Crandon, WI

Ignoring the varmints and critters in the attic and walls, I still think the old lodge last night in Star Lake was a cool place to stay.  Admittedly, as I creaked my way to the washroom in the middle of the night, illuminated by a dim yellow light, the word "haunted" did come to mind.  Not in the creepy, scary, sort of way.  More in the "friendly" ghost category, as it were.  The common area downstairs was full of old chairs, tables and couches.  Most positioned around a center fireplace that appeared to be accessed from both side.  One side was an old stove and the other was a pure fireplace that was covered up and out of commission, at least for the time being. You can still picture hunters and ice fisherman gathered around, telling tall tales and keeping warm and dry in the lodge.  I would imagine that is still its primary use in the winter.  It should be.  I would certainly stay there for that, except I don't hunt and ice fishing just seems, well, too cold.  

I prepared a hearty peanut butter and jelly tortilla out of my camp supplies, and ate it silently on a small porch as I watched hummingbirds dart in and out of the feeders and flowers.  In the silence, and when they fly so close, their wing flutter can be surprisingly thunderous.  

About 6:30, I had turned on my flashing tail light and set off for Crandon.  It had rained overnight and the roads were wet, the air was fresh and strong of pine.  I rest my left knee early and it seems fine.  At least a dozen each of  deer and wild turkeys were spotted feeding near the road.  The wet dark trees made spotting the deer in their light brown/reddish summer coats a somewhat easier.  Around one bend, a young buck and I simul-startled each other.  He was eating in a swamping marsh, and when I made the turn, I spooked him and he exploded with three loud splashes into the woods, white-tail raised high in the air.  I heard the first splashdown before I saw him and he surprised me so bad I veered slightly into the roadway before I caught myself.  (Simul-startled --  if it is a word, I want credit for using it.  If it is not, I want credit for creating it.  A self descriptive word).  

The air was cool and damp in 50s and low 60s for the day.  Like the recent days before, the route meanders quite a bit. It is incredibly enjoyable early on as I am in two different small roads through thick woods and forest.  The roads are narrow and un-lined, as it appears they are the width of 1 1/2 cars.  They are rougher and their upkeep lags the main road, but they are my favorite of the ride.  The curves and small rolling hills seem perfectly fit for my slower speed and it is like a comfortable sightseeing ride.  There is little easement by the road and the nearness of the trees often make a canopy that shields the wind and muffles sound; creating a calm, quiet ride.  

One of these roads is a national forest road of the Nicolet National Forest. The flowers here have receded and made way for the ferns that protect the ground under many of the oak, birch, aspen and mountain maple trees, along the with pre-dominance of evergreens.  These pine and fir trees create the sweet fresh smell of sap.  Along the way, I spend a few minutes as part of the road crew, removing a recently felled small maple tree from the road. Just doing my duty, although I was briefly tempted to pedal around it.  

The trails inevitably turn back onto more heavily travelled roads. They are still byways, for the most part, but are main routes through the area. The weather turns poor late morning and the predicted rain falls. I don my rainsuit, lower my head and pedal. It is all you can do. At this point, I am thankful that touring bikes have fenders.  It is a short ride of 63 miles today. I am grateful it is not the nearly 80 miles of the previous two days. 

The temp is at 59 and the rain has set in when I stop for the day, so I decide to cancel the camping option and get a roadside motel which is on Main Street in Crandon. The owner is not here and there is a note to call the cell phone. She is out of town, but directs me to take a key for room 20 from the black mail box.  She indicates she will just come knock on my door later this evening when she gets back to town to collect the $39. Things operate differently "up north", as I have been told.  It is nice to get inside where it is dry and warmer. 

I love the tent camping, but I love it a lot less when things are wet.  With the predicted all night rain, thirty-nine dollars is worth keeping me and my gear dry for the night.  

Skunk streak: back up to two
Moose search: holding at zero.  

South to Shawano tomorrow.