Munger Consulting Services

Hayward to somewhere east of Park Falls, Wisconsin – the ruffed grouse capital of the world. Some of you may have skipped over that last word, paid it no heed, or just ignored it. So let me put some emphasis on it. Park Falls is not the ruffed grouse capital of Northern Wisconsin. It is not the ruffed grouse capital of the State, or even the country. Or even North America. No. Park Falls is the ruffed grouse capital of the WORLD!

Which is a good thing. Because other than the Kwik Trip and a Subway Shop, there is not a lot more to Park Falls. I guess there is a paper mill. And the Flambeau River. But without ruffed grouse what would a kid in Park Falls say about their town? I come from Park Falls – we had a Dairy Queen once . . .

But enough on Park Falls. After all, we haven’t seen a single ruffed grouse – or, for that matter, any other type of grouse. If we had, dinner might have been much different. Not that I’m complaining. It turns out Kwik Trip has a pretty good selection. Brats, buns, a can of beans, and a salad that even satisfied Diana. And don’t forget the sauer kraut. Not that they had any for sale . . . But, as it turns out, my wife is not easily daunted by details like that. There was sauer kraut available in the condiment section that was set up for the rotating hot dogs you could buy on the spot . . . Diana just filled a soup bowl with the kraut, and – voila – we had kraut.

I guess you wanna hear about the riding. There were a lot of trees. It was kinda cold – temps in the 50s and on and off rain/mist all day long. We must have stopped to take our jackets off or put them back on 10 times. But it wasn’t super hilly – which can be kind of a drag with bikes that weigh 60+ pounds fully loaded . . . And the wind wasn’t against us most of the time.

It turns out that there are about 47 people who live in Northern Wisconsin. They all have pickups and many of them have signs in their yard saying things like God * Guns * Trump. And there is only one eating establishment – and it’s called, get this: The Outhouse! Needless to say, we didn’t partake. Thus, the Kwik Trip dinner over a camp fire . . .

Diana decided that the town campground was not worth the $35 because there was no shower anyway. So we biked out of town until we arrived at another section of the Chequamegon National Forest and then we turned down the first dirt path that we saw and found a nice little glade and camped there.

And as it turned out we didn’t need no stinking shower anyway. The map showed a small stream a few hundred feet from our campsite. It turned out to be a drainage from a swamp – but it was all I needed to rinse off . . . Diana refused. (She’s so picky sometimes . . . . What’s a little duck weed between friends?

So that was day one. Pretty darn good really. 54 or so miles down – something like 800 to go . . . Toronto – here we come!